#the icons and the chat name and everything
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this is somehow so funny to me @milflewis @lewishamil10n 😹
#the brainstorm gc <3#shenanigans tm#naila 💜#one! braincell bestie#effervescentdragonrants#the icons and the chat name and everything
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I slept in and just woke up, so here's what I've been able to figure out while sipping coffee:
Twitter has officially rebranded to X just a day or two after the move was announced.
The official branding is that a tweet is now called "an X", for which there are too many jokes to make.
The official account is still @twitter because someone else owns @X and they didn't reclaim the username first.
The logo is 𝕏 which is the Unicode character Unicode U+1D54F so the logo cannot be copyrighted and it is highly likely that it cannot be protected as a trademark.
Outside the visual logo, the trademark for the use of the name "X" in social media is held by Meta/Facebook, while the trademark for "X" in finance/commerce is owned by Microsoft.
The rebranding has been stopped in Japan as the term "X Japan" is trademarked by the band X JAPAN.
Elon had workers taking down the "Twitter" name from the side of the building. He did not have any permits to do this. The building owner called the cops who stopped the crew midway through so the sign just says "er".
He still plans to call his streaming and media hosting branch of the company as "Xvideo". Nobody tell him.
This man wants you to give him control over all of your financial information.
Edit to add further developments:
Yes, this is all real. Check the notes and people have pictures. I understand the skepticism because it feels like a joke, but to the best of my knowledge, everything in the above is accurate.
Microsoft also owns the trademark on X for chatting and gaming because, y'know, X-box.
The logo came from a random podcaster who tweeted it at Musk.
The act of sending a tweet is now known as "Xeet". They even added a guide for how to Xeet.
The branding change is inconsistent. Some icons have changed, some have not, and the words "tweet" and "Twitter" are still all over the place on the site.
TweetDeck is currently unaffected and I hope it's because they forgot that it exists again. The complete negligence toward that tool and just leaving it the hell alone is the only thing that makes the site usable (and some of us are stuck on there for work).
This is likely because Musk was forced out of PayPal due to a failed credit line project and because he wanted to rename the site to "X-Paypal" and eventually just to "X".
This became a big deal behind the scenes as Musk paid over $1 million for the domain X.com and wanted to rebrand the company that already had the brand awareness people were using it as a verb to "pay online" (as in "I'll paypal you the money")
X.com is not currently owned by Musk. It is held by a domain registrar (I believe GoDaddy but I'm not entirely sure). Meaning as long as he's hung onto this idea of making X Corp a thing, he couldn't be arsed to pay the $15/year domain renewal.
Bloomberg estimates the rebranding wiped between $4 to $20 billion from the valuation of Twitter due to the loss of brand awareness.
The company was already worth less than half of the $44 billion Musk paid for it in the first place, meaning this may end up a worse deal than when Yahoo bought Tumblr.
One estimation (though this is with a grain of salt) said that Twitter is three months from defaulting on its loans taken out to buy the site. Those loans were secured with Tesla stock. Meaning the bank will seize that stock and, since it won't be enough to pay the debt (since it's worth around 50-75% of what it was at the time of the loan), they can start seizing personal assets of Elon Musk including the Twitter company itself and his interest in SpaceX.
Sesame Street's official accounts mocked the rebranding.
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gameboy :: p.js — one
genre: gamer! jisung x gamer! reader, college au
cw: female reader, fwb to lovers, explicit smut, pervy jisung, male masturbation, oral (m and f receiving), unprotected sex, inexperienced jisung, cum play/breeding kink, pet names, slight humiliation kink, size kink, creampie, probably more
wc: 18.257k
join the taglist for part two
18+ minors do not interact!
The red letters that flash across your screen read ‘Defeat’, illuminating your dimly lit room with a shy, red hue. The instant the word appears on your monitor, a voice blasts through your headset, erupting in emphatic complaints and protests. You can hear the clatter of a keyboard and mouse being shoved around on the other end of the receiver, and it takes everything in you to stifle your laugh.
“We definitely could’ve won that!” the boy scoffs, “I swear, sometimes it feels like you and I are the only people with any fucking game sense.”
“Wow, thanks for the validation,” you joke, instinctively queuing up for another match. Your eyes trail up to the little icon in the corner of the screen that glows green every time he speaks.
“You know what I mean,” he grumbles, and you imagine he must not look all that different from the little crying cat picture he set as his discord icon. The thought makes you snort, but he ignores you, stating, “I think this is my last game,”
You nod even though you know he can’t see you, “same, I have class tomorrow,”
“First day of the semester for you, too?”
You nod again. “Unfortunately. My days of gaming until four and sleeping until noon have come to an end.”
He laughs, leaning forward in his chair as he realizes something, “You know, I never asked what you’re studying,”
“Oh,” you blink, “Well, the first class I have tomorrow is just a random credit I needed, but I’m actually majoring in-”
It takes less than a few seconds for your words to drown out into a muffled buzz, and the only thing Jisung can focus on now is the silky, smooth sound of your voice.
He would never admit it, at least not out loud, but your voice makes his heart beat just a little faster. The way each and every word rolls off your tongue makes his breath hitch, imagination running wild at the thought of what your lips look like when they mold to form each syllable and sound.
Every night like clockwork, Jisung finds himself rocking side to side in his desk chair, eyes hanging low and round lips curved up into a smile as he listens to you speak.
It’s so easy to talk to him, too. By now, you’ve lost count of how many nights the two of you rambled off in voice chats, watching shows or playing video games or simply oversharing the details of your lives. It’s only been a few months since you met in a game chat, on that night where he practically harassed you for your discord after you carried him up a rank in-game. You’re secretly grateful he did, though you wouldn’t let him know that; the two of you effortlessly became part of each other’s daily routine, and now, calls with you are his favorite way to end the night. Tonight is no exception.
Jisung begins to mindlessly swing in his chair as usual. He’s humming passively between your small pauses to encourage you to keep going as his hands automatically start caressing his torso. It’s a somewhat innocent gesture, or at least it starts out that way: his palms sliding across the ridges of his abdomen as he listens to your voice. It’s better than music to his ears, and it urges his long fingers to dance closer and closer to his waistband.
“–and I thought about changing it, but I think with an degree in Lit, I could probably get a career in–”
Lost in your voice, Jisung slips his hands into his shorts, holding his balls as he fully zones out of the conversation. He knows you’re saying words and forming actual sentences, but his social awareness has dwindled completely and he absolutely can’t seem to get past how sweet you sound, and how much sweeter you would sound under… different circumstances. He moves up to hold his dick gently and furrows his brows. Almost accidentally, his thumb brushes along the underside of his tip, teeth clamping the inside of his cheek and gnawing on it to ground himself. Just as eager as its owner, Jisung’s dick jolts in his palm, progressively swelling up until it’s flushing bright pink.
“You’re into English?” He manages to stop daydreaming and hone into the conversation for a fleeting moment, just long enough to ask you that simple question and keep your attention off of his rapidly shifting breath.
He’s blatantly playing with himself now, ever so distractedly. It’s an autonomous act: the way the pad of his middle finger trails over his slit to collect a bit of the pre-cum that has begun to dribble out in pearly beads. He hisses, then quickly snaps his mouth shut in hopes that you hadn’t heard him.
“Yeah,” he can hear your smile in your words, “I think I always have been. I used to read all the time and—I swear, if you say I’m boring, I’ll personally come over and choke you–”
As he acknowledges reality for a quick moment, his pace falters. His brows pinch, and he feels confused as he realizes he can’t stop or even moderate his actions, despite the shame slowly beginning to wash over him. The more you talk, the harder he grows. His grip is getting tighter, his strokes needier… he must be losing his mind. With a gulp, he thinks to himself, what would you do if you could see him touching himself like this to you? Would you think it’s sick and twisted or would you offer to help him out?
His head begins to throb as the room spins around him, but he really can’t seem to slow his motions. By now, he’s bucking his hips up and into his hand while the other covers his mouth, silencing the whines that threaten to leave his throat. He’s breathing heavily, praying to god you don’t somehow notice his perverted actions. Despite knowing that he isn’t thinking straight, Jisung can’t help the thoughts that continue to fog his mind, rampant and obscene.
Could you hear the squelching of his hand pumping his cock, covered in his pre-release? Or the way he’s practically panting, reduced to nothing at the mere sound of your voice? He’s not sure whether or not his mic would even pick that up, but even so, the corner of his lips curl into a lazy smile as his mind continues down his twisted rabbit hole.
In spite of not knowing what you look like, there’s no denying that he wants to give you all of him. He wants to feel himself buried deep inside your throat, your pretty voice vibrating around him as you choke on his length. He feels himself twitch in his palm and he subconsciously nods, picturing it's your walls around him instead of his own inadequate hand. Jisung huffs out once, fucking his fist wildly, picturing how much he’d like to feel himself bust inside of your warm, tight pus-
“Sung? Sung!”
“Huh? W-what?” As he yanks his hand from his shorts, the waistband snaps against his skin and he yelps out at the impact, “Sorry! I promise I was listening, it-its just, I got a little caught up with–” words are tumbling out of his mouth, before he can catch up to them.
“It’s fine, it’s fine! Hurry, just pick your agent before the match gets–” but the timer runs out, and the lobby screen appears once more as you sigh, “–canceled...”
Jisung glances down at his hand, separating his fingers and watching how the sticky pre-cum leaves webbed strings between each of his parted digits. His stomach is also wet, and the tent in his pants is growing increasingly painful with each passing second.
“What were you fantasizing about, huh?” Oh, fuck. The teasing edge in your words makes his nerves tingle, and he throws his head back as you hum into your mic, “Hmm. Well, I guess it was more interesting than what I was saying. Can’t blame you though, the topic of school is boring me too, and the semester hasn’t even started yet. Also, that can’t count as your last game. I literally won’t allow it.”
You queue up for another game and Jisung sighs, watching the timer on the screen tick away. The picture changes, and the two of you are prompted to start a game. A few kleenex wipes collect the mess on his hand and torso, and he settles back in his chair after tossing them, deciding his neediness will have to wait for now.
Bidding you good night is harder than usual tonight, but he knows you need to get to sleep—you mentioned you had an early class and he had his own, so his selfish urge to keep you talking until he came in his hand would, unfortunately, need to take a raincheck.
After logging off of his computer, Jisung drops his head into his hands with a sigh.
What the fuck even was that?
A mix of shame and arousal take over him as his cheeks begin glowing a deep shade of red. He lets out a small scoff, shaking his head to himself as he gets up from his chair. His dick is still as hard as a rock, and he can’t help but feel flustered at the fact that he has, quite literally, blue-balled himself.
With a towel swung over his shoulder and a clean pair of sleeping shorts clutched in his fist, Jisung walks up to the dorm’s nearest communal bathroom. He turns on the faucet, freeing himself of his clothes. The moment his boxers come down past his thighs, his length slaps against the skin below his navel, making him hiss out as he steps into the shower. The cold water, running down against his heated body, seems to be doing the trick of clearing his mind, that is, until his hands find their way to his stomach, rubbing the soap over it.
It’s so hard to expel the thoughts of you when they’re so intrusive and tempting, and Jisung lets his mind drift off once more, imagining how it would feel to be touched by you, sucked by you. All the soft noises you would make are weirdly familiar; he can practically hear them. His head falls back, lips caught between his teeth as he twitches and gives himself an experimental stroke, shuddering as his thumb glides across the slit of his sensitive tip. He clenches his eyes shut tighter, letting out a shaky sigh and letting the water continue to trickle down his body. He doesn’t know what you look like, other than your hair color which you mentioned the other day. Despite that, he still tries desperately to piece an image of you together behind his eyelids, picturing what your lips are like. And just like that, thoughts of you flood him, and he shudders at the vision of you on your knees, looking up at him with big, innocent eyes, begging to taste him and take all of him. He longs to feel you swallow around him—to grab either side of your face and thrust into your needy mouth until the tears slip from your eyes and your pussy is dripping from the need to be fucked.
Getting lost in the moment, he doesn’t even realize how loud he’s becoming and how fast his fist is working his dick. Jisung's highly anticipated release is only seconds away when a loud knock startles him, lunging him right back into his body.
“Yo, man! How long are you gonna take in there?” His friend and next door neighbor, Mark, shouts from the other side of the door, knocking again and ruining Jisung’s fantasy once and for all.
The boy takes a moment to clear his throat and swallow, not trusting his voice to not crack otherwise, “Uh.. Sorry. I’ll just be a minute.”
It takes everything in him to slow his hand to a stop and pry it off of his shaft, deciding that perhaps, he shouldn’t entertain his filthy thoughts any longer. He quickly finishes showering with another unnecessary interruption from Mark, then drags himself back to his room and gets into his bed, forcing his eyes shut in an attempt to sleep. The longer he lies there, however, the more restless he grows.
His dick feels sore to the touch and it’s driving him absolutely crazy. Every time he adjusts his shorts or moves his legs, his balls throb from how full they are. Knowing he has class to get to the following day, he tries to convince himself that maybe he needs a release to get to sleep. It’ll tire him out, and then finally, he’ll be able to get some rest…There’s at least a bit of logic to that theory, or that’s what he tells himself, anyway.
Against his better judgment that pleads with him to just shut his eyes and count sheep, Jisung huffs out and slips his hands into his shorts to begin touching himself for the nth time tonight. This whole time, he had been unknowingly edging himself and now he’s so, so undeniably and incredibly desperate to cum that it literally hurts.
His free hand brings his phone up and unlocks it, thumb swiping quickly in search of the discord app where your contact resides, the little green bubble next to it signifying that you’re still online. He hovers over the call button, taunting himself with the idea of making a call to you at this time. One little click, and he’d hear your voice again. Just one click and he-
sung ᨐฅ started a call. Today at 11:54 AM
Shit, shit, shit.
He rushes to hang up, but you’ve answered no more than a ring later.
“Hello?”
Jisung holds his rather unsteady breath, staring wide-eyed at his phone. His dick pulses in his palm that now rests still.
“Sung?”
As gently as possible, he lays the phone down on his puffed up chest, letting out his breath slowly so that you don’t hear him.
“I’m gonna assume you called me by accident… ” you sigh out in disappointment, growing quiet in uncertainty. For a second, Jisung is convinced you’re gonna hang up, but when you stay on the line, he peers down at the screen curiously.
Your icon lights up green and there’s some shuffling on your end, presumably from you getting comfortable in bed.
He hears you yawn and smiles fondly.
“I’m tired,” you mumble, “are you asleep? I was actually excited that you called. Maybe it’s my fucked up schedule… or, maybe I’m just dreading tomorrow, but I couldn’t sleep. I don’t know…”
You’re speaking slower and quieter than usual, but you’re speaking, completely oblivious of the fact that he’s thinking of the dirtiest things that involve you, getting off while you think he’s sound asleep.
“It’s always easier to sleep once we’ve talked so,” you pause, then sigh out jokingly, “I guess I'll just talk your unconscious ear off until I fall asleep…You don’t mind, right?”
God, no, he thinks.
Jisung silently celebrates your decision with a pump of his hand, shuffling a bit to get comfortable as you go on about genshin and cats and other things he can barely pay mind to. It takes no more than a few strokes, shallow ones where he caresses the angry head of his dick to the velvety sound of your slurred and drowsy mumbling, for him to bring himself to come so fucking hard.
His knees lock as his cock springs up in his clutched palm, spewing streams of white cum all over his stomach, chest, and thighs. The muscles on his abdomen ache from the way they contract, eyes and jaw shutting tightly as he challenges himself to remain quiet. The sheets aren’t spared from his thick load either, his nut dripping down the sides of his tummy to make dark, round puddles on his bed. His toes curl as he tries his hardest to not gasp out when the pleasure dissolves into sensitivity, digging his head back into the pillow with a hand clasped over his lips.
A few minutes later, the blurriness in his vision is relieved, along with the ringing in his ears. You’ve stopped talking; instead, the receiver picks up your short and shallow breaths, as if you’ve fallen asleep with your mouth open. Cute.
As he assesses the aftermath of his much needed release, he wishes he could snap a picture and send it to you, so that you’d wake up knowing this pathetic mess he made was all for you, because of you.
Alas, he can’t, and he hangs up once he’s completely sure you’re resting. With his eyelids feeling much heavier than before, he manages to toss his phone onto the nightstand before he, too, drifts off to sleep.
•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ
The following morning, Jisung wakes up in a bit of a panic. The first thing that throws him for a loop is the fact that his alarm didn’t go off at all. He quickly realizes he forgot to set it amidst the activities of the night before. The second thing that strikes him is his own hand that rests on his stomach, stuck in some kind of damp, sticky liquid. In his half-conscious state, he lifts his fingers and his puffy eyes widen as he identifies the clear fluid that decorates his tummy as his drying release from the night before.
“Ugh…” He grimaces, sitting up in his bed. His phone, which is less than half full of battery since he forgot to plug it in, blinks back the numbers 8:38 at him. Jisung’s eyes widen as he remembers that his first class of the day, of the semester, is at 9.
“Fuck!” In a flash, his blanket is flung off of him and his legs are swinging over the edge of the bed. He moves to grab some tissues from his nightstand, making aggressively desperate attempts at wiping away his cum. When the Kleenex sticks to him instead, he digs around his drawers for a pack of wet wipes, snatching a pair of pants off of the floor at the same time and practically yanking them up his legs.
Despite almost falling over, he manages to get them on and clean off his torso… for the most part. A random sweatshirt is tugged on over his head and he runs his hand through his hair a few times to tidy it before passively telling his reflection, this will do.
Moments later, he’s rushing downstairs and outside of the dormitory with his unzipped backpack hung over his shoulder. He rushes to unlock his bike, cursing as he fumbles with the keys. Once he’s on, he starts pedaling to the Science building on the other side of campus, heavily dreading checking the time in fear it’ll read some absurd number and he’ll wind up being much later than he anticipates.
The breath that’s been caught in his throat all morning is only released when he steps through the door of the lecture room to see that the professor hasn’t walked in yet, and that the clock reads that he’s 6 minutes early.
Finally slowing his rushed pace, Jisung does a quick once over the room to scan the faces of his fellow students before taking his seat somewhere near the back. Thanking the heavens that his notebook and textbook didn’t go tumbling out of his bag in the midst of his previous hurry, he tugs them out, flipping them open and writing the date on the first page. His laptop, which is where he had planned to take notes on, sits in his dorm room where he left it on his desk. Everyone else has theirs out, but he’ll just have to bring his own next time.
There’s a distant click, and the door on the lowest level of the lecture hall opens. Through it walks a relatively tall and slender lady, heels echoing rhythmically as she strides over to set her dark bag down by the podium. Her hair is tied back high and tight, so much so, that all of her features look like they're blending into her hairline. She looks like she’s somewhere in her mid-to-late fifties, and from the instant she walked in, the entire class went silent.
She clearly has a presence that commands attention and undoubtedly, she fits the visual profile of a strict college professor quite well, especially when she picks up the chalk and scribbles her surname onto the green chalkboard beside the larger projector screen.
“I’m Professor Hwang. Welcome to AST1002, also known as Descriptive Astronomy. If you’re here, that means you took AST1001 with Mr. Kwon last year. He has since transferred to a different department.”
There’s no audible response, although some disappointment does flash across the faces of the students in the room, all of whom did have (and seemingly would miss) Mr. Kwon. Professor Hwang doesn’t seem to notice the lack of responses, and continues speaking as she pulls some papers out.
“Firstly, I’ll take attendance. Then, I’ll pass the syllabus around. I would like for you to note,” she pauses to place a pair of red glasses high on the bridge of her nose, “that attendance is mandatory for my class, and worth 20% of your grade. I’ll go over pop quizzes and weekly quizzes, as well as the initial class project, when each of you have a copy of the syllabus. That being said, I look forward to seeing you all here every class. Please call out when you hear your name.”
As she starts to take attendance, Jisung takes the time to sigh into his hands, both exhausted and dreading the fact that he’d have to spend three days out of the week rotting in a lecture hall to attend a class he expected to be fun, or at the very least a break from his much more difficult core classes. By the looks of it, that’s no longer the plan.
It’s easy to zone out quickly while his mind is still foggy, no doubt from the lack of sleep and the subsequent abrupt awakening that followed. He had just begun an attempt to read the syllabus when something made his ears perk.
Immediately, his head snaps up in pursuit of a soft and airy voice that just responded to Professor Hwang. It’s so quick and in passing that he almost thinks he might have imagined it in his delirious state, but the way the hair on his limbs stands on end is unmistakable. His eyes dart around the room, hitting his classmate’s heads like targets, but there’s absolutely no way to identify the individual who just spoke.
Could it be… No. No way.
Jisung is no stranger to daydreaming about you, but he isn’t completely delusional. He knows the chances of being not only in the same city, but the same university and class as you are absolutely slim to none, so he stops that train of thought dead in its tracks.
It does segway him into thinking of you, though. You’re obviously not here, so he wonders instead what class you are in at the moment. He tries to picture what you’re wearing on your first day of class, trusting you look more put together than him in his old hoodie that is slightly sticking to the dry cum on his stomach. Do you like your classmates? Your professor? He sincerely hopes you have a more tolerable one than he does.
“Park Jisung?”
With a slight cough, he spits out a weak “h-here.” and instantly grimaces, raising his shoulders autonomously as if he would get scolded for stammering so pathetically. The professor, to his relief, doesn’t even glance up from the roster. Then, he feels quite silly for even thinking he would get reproached for that to begin with. In his defense, she’s a rather intimidating woman, and his inner monologue is so loud and flooded with thoughts of you that he fears she may have heard it.
She finishes calling for attendance, resorting to striding up and down the aisles as she begins to dissect the syllabus. In an effort to pretend he’s paying attention, Jisung glances down at the size twelve font on the page, skimming over the words without really taking anything in. During one of the professor’s paces, a pen she had resting on her ear slips and falls towards the ground with a slight clatter, and it seems a student picked it up for her, because there’s a slight mumbling, followed by a sharp “thank you,” and a very, very recognizable,
“You’re welcome, Professor.”
His eyes widen at once. Alright, call him crazy, but now he thinks that it really might have been your voice. The familiar timbre, warm and delicate; a sound he’s heard for months on end and knows embarrassingly well… The thought of being in the same room as you out of sheer luck and coincidence makes his abdomen twist and his palms sweat so bad, he has to wipe them on his pants.
He hates that he can’t fully tell, in fact, he’s almost ashamed that he can’t; before today, Jisung would have sworn up and down that he knew your voice better than even his own, but you sound so far and so quiet that he can’t completely bet all of his marbles. Then, he quickly realizes calling it ‘your voice’ definitely makes him sound delusional, even in the safety of his own forgiving conscience. He decides to call it ‘the voice’ for now, at least until he’s a hundred-percent sure.
An irritatingly long hour and half later, the only sound that continues to ring around the lecture hall is Professor Hwang’s monotone one, reciting each and every itemized assignment and rule on the never-ending syllabus. There’s less than fifteen minutes until class is over, and she shows no signs of stopping her dissertation.
“As for the class project: In pairs of two, you will research a constellation extensively to create a presentation on its formation, who cataloged it, and the Greek myth that may accompany it. Please note that this is the first and last time we will talk about constellations in this class, since they are not cosmic phenomenons but instead, a mere roadmap to the objects and themes we will be focusing on. Consider this strictly as an opportunity to familiarize yourselves with another classmate and show me your interest and effort in the subject. That concludes our syllabus,” Thank God, Jisung thinks.
“Any questions?” She glances around at a hand that floats in the air, near the front of the room, “yes?”
“Will we be able to select our partners?”
“No. Partners will be assigned at the end of the week. Yes?” She calls on another hand.
“As for the constellations,” Wait, that’s it! That’s the voice—that’s your voice, he’s completely sure of it! “Will you assign those as well?”
Jisung elongates his neck to try and peek over the heads in his way. It is you, he’s positive now, but you’re turned away from him, and he can’t fully make out which ‘back of the head’ is your ‘back of the head.’ The echo in the hall makes it nearly impossible to pinpoint who just spoke which means he can’t pinpoint you. For some reason, he finds himself slightly panicking, desperate to finally see you in person.
He follows Professor Hwang's line of sight as she answers that she’ll assign the constellations on Friday too, and finally finds you, seated between a few other students. A few more questions are thrown around, but his eyes never leave you, anticipating the moment he catches a glimpse of your face.
Naturally, his first instinct is to approach you as soon as class is out, but when he sees you spin around to pick up your bag that hangs off your chair, he finds himself glued to his own flimsy seat. Feet stuck to the ground, legs not budging, and air hitched in his throat at the sight of you.
You’re so, so much prettier than he could have imagined with whatever unoriginal features he tried to piece together in his lacking mind, and that fact makes him both exhilarated and completely nauseous.
He’s barely been looking at you for a few seconds when he feels his insatiable cock growing fast in the confines of his pants, with no regard for its owner and the fact that he has to stand up within the next minute or so to exit the hall. Jisung curses under his breath, awkwardly rising to his feet when most of his classmates leave, his bag clutched tightly in front of his groin. He prays you don’t glance over, not even because he has a semi-hard on he’s failing to hide with dissimulation, but because he’s staring at you like some sort of freak and can’t seem to look away.
There’s nothing he wants more than to come up to you and say hi and confess he’s the person you’ve been gaming with for months. He’s pictured it countless times before, you’d think he’d have it down by now, but your beauty is intimidating, and he simply cannot and will not make a fool of himself in front of you by greeting you with a raging boner.
You walk out of the classroom and Jisung’s heart settles in his chest as he sits with his decision to stay anonymous for now.
•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ
“She was obnoxious, you have no idea!”
“My teacher wasn’t much different,” he admits, a small, knowing smile toying at his lips, “she seemed like a real bitch,”
It’s later that same evening, and talking to you doesn’t really feel the same anymore. It’s much harder, because now, Jisung can vividly picture you, sitting in your chair with your hands on your keyboard and mouse. Every word you say, his imagination is right thereafter, picturing your pretty face clear as day in the forefront of his mind.
The moment he got home, he fucked his fist until he came in his hand. It took about five minutes, and then he pumped another one out in the shower, (a much needed shower, at that) where he finally washed away the remains of the night before.
After he had lunch with Mark and the other boys from his floor, they had invited him to play basketball. At the same time, however, he received a direct message from you, explaining you didn’t have any other classes for the day and asking if he could get on earlier.
It’s a little ridiculous, but now that he’s seen you, now that he knows you’re so much closer than he initially thought, he can’t wait to talk to you again. And so he quickly came up with an empty excuse related to his studies, took the berating from his friends like a champ, and rushed upstairs to log into his PC and open up your chat.
“Not only do we already have a project, but we don’t even get to pick our partners.”
I know! He thinks.
“Like,” you start, and he pictures the way your cheeks fill up with air as you let out a huff, “what if I get stuck with some weirdo?”
Instantly, Jisung stops palming himself, letting his hand climb back up to the mouse slowly.
He probably shouldn’t let that innocent statement affect him as much as it does, but he can’t help it. He has the advantage, right? Or, at least it seems that way.
When everything is laid out, he has the upperhand of knowing who you are—you haven’t seen him, yet… but what if you did see him, and he wasn’t at all what you were expecting? Or even worse, what if you got paired together for the project and you thought he was weird or the two of you didn’t get along? That option is far less likely, since there are well over fifty students in AST1002.
“I don’t know,” you start, “I’m considering switching out of the class-”
“No!” Wow. Good going, Jisung.
He catches his slip-up and quickly blurts out, “I-I mean, it might not be that bad! You should… at least give it a shot before you try to switch out, right?”
“I guess you’re right… The add and drop period at my school is until next Friday, so I'll try it out until then.”
Great! Perfect! Good save. The only problem now is: Jisung has a little over a week and a half to somehow convince you to stay in his class and at the same time, not completely butcher his introduction to you. Approaching you now seems practically impossible, but he needs you to stay in the class, even if it means he has to come up to you first. He can’t be bothered to care that his insistence is for his own selfish intentions, if it means getting to see you three times a week.
“But anyway,” he clears his throat, changing the topic as quickly as possible, “how did your other class go?”
“Much better than the first, the teacher let us out early once he covered the books we’d be analyzing this semester and attendance isn’t mandatory since most of the material is online or in the library. I think I’ll swing by there one of these days to see if I can get ahead on some of the assignments.”
“Oh, so you’re a nerd?” You gasp and smack his character in-game a few times. He laughs, calling out, “okay, okay, truce! You’re not a nerd then, just an overachiever.”
“How so?”
“We’re barely a day into the semester and you’re already trying your homework that I’m sure isn’t due for at least a few weeks,”
You roll your eyes, knowing he’s right. With a bit of playful flirtation twisted into your tone, you hum out, “What can I say? I like to please.”
One of his eyebrows perks up, “is that right?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know.” He can hear your smirk through the screen, and now, he can vividly picture it, too.
Jisung scoffs, backing away from your character so that he’s out of your sight. He cowers into a corner in game; this way, you don’t notice how he stops moving when his left hand leaves the w,a,s,d keys to cup and rub his needy bulge.
•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ
Wednesday’s class is somehow packed and entirely uneventful at the same time. The first of Professor Hwang’s dragging lectures is so loaded that Jisung actually thanks the heavens that he remembered to bring his laptop. Otherwise, his notebook would have been about halfway full already, and his hand? It would have fallen off.
On another relevant note, he’s struggling to stay focused because today, he is sitting much closer to you. Intentionally, of course. There’s still a few rows between him and you, but in this new seat, he can glance at you as often as he’d like without straining his eyes or stretching out his neck to make his gawking painfully obvious. He can clearly make out your smooth skin, along with other details he wasn’t able to notice before like your beauty marks and your dainty earrings. You’re paying unfaltering attention to the class for the first hour, but after the sixty-minute mark, you appear to have become bored. He catches the way your pencil starts doodling along the corners of your notebook and it takes everything in him not to snort when you scribble down a wonky looking cat.
He’s so distracted by you, that every couple of slides, he glances back to the projector to see that the class is now on an entirely different topic than the one he last managed to jot down. He doesn’t mind, though. You’re a much more enthralling sight than quasars and supernovas.
Halfway through the lesson, you decide to peel off your little black cardigan and hang it on the back of your chair, exposing your arms and neck and shoulders to him. Your hair is tied up neatly right after, giving him all the more to gawk at and envision. Jisung has to remind himself that he’s in a classroom just so that he doesn’t start fantasizing about how it would feel to grip your hair up in a similar fashion and fill your throat up with his dick.
With great difficulty, he directs his focus to the board instead, typing quickly into his laptop all the notes he manages to catch before the slide changes again and Professor Hwang’s narrow eyes can scan the room to see who’s paying attention.
When the class is over, you start talking with the girl next to you, aimlessly reaching back for your bag. The gesture makes your cardigan fall, and Jisung has to fully bite his tongue to keep himself from calling out your name and giving himself away. He waits to see if you’ll notice, or if someone nearby will alert you, but neither one happens. Instead, you stand up, still engrossed in your conversation, and make your way towards the door. Instantly, he jogs down the aisle and between the seats to grab it and wordlessly hand it to you, but by the time he makes a move to head in your direction, you’ve already left.
He feels disappointed at first, but the feeling quickly shifts into relief. Wordlessly hand it to you? Does he want your first impression of him to be awkward and borderline rude? No and definitely no. This problem has a simple solution—it’s a blessing in disguise; he’ll take your cardigan home and bring it to you on Friday and maybe, if his courage allows, he can introduce himself then.
“Hey! I noticed you left your sweater here last class. I brought it for you. Oh, and by the way, it’s me! I’m @sung.ie. How did I know it was you? I can recognize your voice across a huge lecture hall.”
Yeah… he’ll think more on that later.
With your cardigan clutched in his fist, Jisung sighs, making his way outside and towards his bicycle. He tucks the clothing item into his backpack and pedals back home, wondering how he’s going to manage to give it back to you since you always get to and leave class before him.
He knows some of his friends and dorm-mates have their own class today, they had exchanged schedules during lunch a few days ago, which leaves him to hope and pray you’ve decided to skip your class and get online. As he parks his bicycle downstairs and locks it, he slips his phone from his pocket and opens discord, but your bubble remains gray and cold. You’re offline.
Maybe you haven’t gotten home yet. He checks his phone again when he gets upstairs, and again when he goes inside his dorm, tossing his bag aside and crashing on his bed. He checks after losing a round of candy crush, and again after replying to a text from his mom.
By the looks of it, you were in class, or at the very least, not available for the moment. Jisung sighs, pretending he’s not actually as disappointed as he feels. It seems a bit dramatic to feel the need to kill time until he gets to talk to you again so he resorts to doing physics homework—a short baseline his teacher assigned that wouldn’t be graded—and tricking his brain into thinking the former is not what he’s actually doing.
When he pulls his bag off his desk chair to grab his laptop, your cardigan comes into view, and he pauses to look at it. He sits like this for a moment, wondering if he should fold it nicely on his dresser so he can remember to take it to you, but his hands act before his mind can catch up, reaching in and basically shoving the material toward his face.
With his nose buried in your scent, Jisung inhales deeply, sinking into his chair as his legs grow weaker. The trace of your floral softener is the first aroma he gets, and then, the smell of your perfume peeks through, soft and sweet and very fitting for you. Once more, his treacherous hands are acting for themselves and he’s suddenly undoing his belt single-handedly.
Once his dick, growing by the minute, is out and clutched in his palm, he finally retracts your sweater. With little hesitation, he wraps it around his erection and pumps once, throwing his head back in immediate relief.
It’s a fucking miracle that his room is the last one at the end of the hall, and that his next door neighbors, Renjun and Jaemin, are both in their afternoon lectures, because nothing would have been able to muffle the wanton moan that rips from his chest as he strokes himself with your scent. His hips are bucking up into the air, and in only a few minutes, he’s broken a slight sweat. His balls tighten from sheer sensitivity at the act of fucking something directly related to you.
A cry of your name, followed by a few more pumps and he’s coming inside your mangled cardigan, his white release breaching the thin material. It seeps through it like light through a veil, gathering thickly on top before spreading into a dark, wet patch. There’s a shudder that passes through his bones as he sits back, burying his cock into the fabric and keeping it there until he’s given up every last drop.
The only thing that snaps him from his post-nut bliss, is the distinct discord ring-tone that blasts through his headset. His computer monitor turns on as your icon appears and simultaneously, his heart and dick both twitch.
“Hello?” With his output device swung over his head, he presses the green ‘answer’ button and speaks into the mic, hiding his slight shortness of breath with a yawn.
“I’m so glad you answered,” you beam, and he does too, “I was worried I had called while you were in class or something,”
As he speaks, he wipes the remnants of his cum off with your cardigan and puts it aside on his desk, tucking his softening (and still very sensitive) dick away into his boxers, “No, you’re good. I had a class earlier today but now I’m free.”
“What a relief,” you sigh, “Would you want to have a little homework ‘sesh’ with me? I just found out the library doesn’t have any available labs. I doubt I’ll be able to concentrate much with you but at least I'll be in good company.”
“Like an e-date?”
“We can call it that,” you grin, then he pictures your expression becoming a gloom one to match your slightly sadder tone as you admit, “Sometimes I wish we went to the same school so we could meet up and study at a coffee shop.”
He snorts, unable to help but crack a joke, “Like a real date?”
Your laugh makes his heart swell slightly. When you reply, “Maybe,” it starts flipping wildly in his chest.
God, you can’t even begin to imagine how badly he wants that.
“That would be nice,” he agrees humbly, a blush creeping on his cheeks. “What class are you gonna study for?”
There’s a pause before you speak again where you hum in thought, flipping through a few pages and shuffling through your bag. Jisung joins you, grabbing his laptop and school supplies, “I have a project for my astronomy class. It’s related to constellations and I wanna start researching them so that I can make an outline for the assignment,”
He looks through his math notes with his brows furrowed down, “I thought she was gonna assign them on Friday?”
Your icon flickers as you reply, “She is, but I want to—wait. How did you know that?” At your words and the realization of his untimely slip up, Jisung’s body goes rigid. He can only imagine the confusion on your features, and he’s quite relieved you can’t see the look on his. If his eyes were to open any wider, he’s sure they might just slip out of his head.
“Oh, um,” he clears his throat mechanically, then gulps in an effort to lubricate it and keep his voice steady, assertive, certain. “You mentioned it on Monday, remember?”
“Did I?” You didn’t, but he really hopes you think you did. “Probably,” At that, he lets out the air he’s holding, shaking his head slightly at himself for being so careless.
“But um, yeah,” he starts before you can give it any further thought, “If she’s assigning them Friday why are you working on it today?”
“Cause she’s also assigning partners on Friday, and I don’t really know anyone besides the girl who sits next to me and I doubt I’ll get paired with her. I want to make sure my grade is secured, you know? I’ve never liked group projects. I feel like all the work gets dumped on me.”
He’s still not entirely sure what you mean to do, or how you intend to create a blueprint of sorts without knowing what it was for, and so he stops flicking through his page of notes to look up at his monitor and ask, “But if you don’t know which constellation you’re gonna work on, how are you gonna make an outline?”
You ponder his question for a moment, then mumble out, “She didn’t mention a rubric or anything, so I figured that as long as I plan out the different sections and give the project a structure, half of the work is cut out, right? I can just assign parts at that point.”
“You’re that kinda person in a group project? I’m sorry to whoever gets partnered with you,” He’s not sorry, not at all. He’s rather envious, actually, despite his attempts to sound indifferent or amusing. Being granted time to spend with you at your place or his, or at the library or the local campus cafe, would be a no less than perfect ice breaker. Jisung would make sure you never felt like all the research and assembling depended solely on you—in fact, he could see himself now, spending countless hours perfecting the details of his assigned part and inquiring about other suggestions to improve the project, just to impress you or at the very least, satisfy you. The reality that someone else would get to do all of that in his place is disheartening.
You guys had rarely ever talked about school before now, since neither of you actually were enrolled in any classes when you started chatting, but now that it’s relevant, he feels like he understands a whole different side of you. You’re organized, and obviously very studious. Hell, you’ve been itching to get started on assignments that haven’t even been assigned yet. You’re responsible, dependable, funny, beautiful, and every time he thinks of you lately, he realizes that his innocent crush is slowly becoming an insatiable one.
“Hey! I’d be very nice if it was you, you know. Show you some favoritism,” the corners of his lips twitch upwards—“But I’m also glad it’s not you,”—and fall down again.
“What? Why?” He tries to not sound too offended.
“I’d end up talking your ear off, Sung.”
“I’m already used to that, don’t mind it. Kinda like it, actually.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He nods curtly, even though there’s a monitor and an entire school campus between you and him and he knows you have no way of seeing his gesture. There's a moment of silence that you spend taking a brief breath as a glow tinges your cheeks.
With a stifled laugh, you open your mouth again, “I think it’s just because you like me that you tolerate my rambling,”
“No.” He’s quick to clarify, “I really do like it.” He loves it.
“And me?” your voice is much quieter, almost giving the impression that you’re shy in asking something so decisive and direct. Jisung, emboldened by your vulnerability, and the distance the screen puts between you two, answers with certainty.
“I like you, too.”
•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ
“The constellation project, as I mentioned during your first class, is a tool for you to acquaint yourself with your classmates. It will be due in 3 weeks, and you can check the syllabus for specifications regarding that. After today, there will be no changing partners or constellations so should you need any changes to be made, you have until class is dismissed. Listen closely as I read out the pairs for the project. I will not repeat myself.”
The sharp tone he’s growing more and more distaste for by the day drowns out as Jisung glances over at you. Today, you’re sporting a bone-colored long sleeve and corduroy pants with half of your hair held back in a shiny clip. You look ravishing. Truthfully, he can’t really tell if you’re wearing makeup or not—although he concludes it doesn’t matter. Your features are soft and pretty nonetheless, and your cheeks have turned rosy from the dropping autumn temperatures.
“Yu Karina will be partnered with Lee Heesung. Your constellation is Cassiopeia.”
When you walked into the lecture hall this morning, there was a hot coffee cup with the campus cafe’s logo on it clutched in your hands, which you sipped on while shivering. Taking your usual seat, you greeted the girl next to you, who Jisung now knew was called Yu Karina.
The dark haired girl perked up when Professor Hwang called her name and waved down the aisle at who he can only assume is Lee Heesung, her partner, then whispered something to you. You looked over at the boy and back at Karina, nodding and giggling with her.
“Jennifer Huh, partnered with Ning Yizhuo,” Professor Hwang referenced her other list, “Constellation: Cancer.”
The two girls greet each other with a look and a smile, but Jisung pays little mind. He’s listening intently—for the first time—in anticipation of hearing one of your names be called. He doesn’t exactly know your full name, only a nickname he refers to you as, the one attached to your discord handle. Otherwise, pinpointing you that first day of class would’ve been much easier.
“Park Jay and Lee Sohee, your constellation is Orion.”
Sitting there, he realizes that in all the months you’ve talked, he’s never once asked for your full first name. Is that strange? What kind of friend is he if he doesn’t even know your name? In all fairness, you never asked for his, either, so he supposes it’s okay. Would have been useful to know, though, at times like this.
After his small confession of ‘like’ on Wednesday, the two of you went on studying your respective subjects, with the occasional (and inevitable) distraction here and there. Admittedly, he thought his comment would be forgotten rather quickly. It wasn’t like he outwardly poured his heart out to you, so he figured you’d move on and just crack a joke or two about it later. There was a change, though; a strikingly obvious one to Jisung, who hangs on your every word like it’s a tether that keeps him from floating. And, even if he didn’t pay such close attention to you, there’s no way he could have missed the new flirtatious ambiance that flourished afterwards. Flirting with you is not uncommon by any means—the two of you playfully tease each other with frequency, but it’s nothing he’d allow himself to look into too much, for his own sake.
That changed in the hours following his comments. All of Wednesday evening, the two of you went back and forth, feeding each other compliments in the form of banter. Again, he thought it would end there, but on Thursday afternoon when you logged on, he asked how your progress was going with the outline, to which you texted back, “I was thinking of you all day. Didn’t get around to doing much else.”
It wasn’t the only message from you that nurtured his feelings, either. There were enough substantially flirty messages from your conversation that night, that he was able to scroll through them and reread them a few times before bed.
ynn ᓚᘏᗢ: yesterday at 6:49PM
hi
did you smile when you saw my name pop up on your phone just now
ynn ᓚᘏᗢ: yesterday at 8:22 PM
you’re so cute
i can barely think
ynn ᓚᘏᗢ: yesterday at 9:14 PM
i feel like my day doesn’t make sense if we don’t talk
ynn ᓚᘏᗢ: yesterday at 10:58 PM
i should get to sleep
but i don’t wanna stop texting you
ynn ᓚᘏᗢ: yesterday at 12:02 AM
goodnight, sung <3 miss you til’ you’re back
Now, as he eyes you with a boyish, lovesick gaze, watching you doodle your stupid little drawings as you await your assignment, he finds himself praying for the courage to come up to you after class.
Professor Hwang calls your name next, something he only realizes at the fitting similarity of your nickname and the way your pen meets the table in alert to being called on, head lifting up and eyes blinking expectantly.
“Your partner will be,”
Jisung holds his breath, chanting in his head ‘please, oh, please let it be me,’
“Lee Chan.”
Wishful thinking never got anyone anywhere, then. He ignores the way his heart sinks into the pits of his stomach, unable to help but observe your curious gaze as it looks around the filled seats. For a fleeting moment, you meet his eyes, but he doesn’t react or claim to be Lee Chan who you so evidently are in search of, and so you pass him and keep studying the aisles. After a few seconds, you find no one gazing back, even after you slightly stand to peer above the nearby heads that obscure your view.
“Your constellation is-”
With a cautious raise of your hand, you interrupt Professor Hwang gently, “Excuse me, Professor, but I don’t think my partner is here.”
For a moment, her lazer-like gaze looks like it could light you on fire, a consequence of daring to interrupt her, but it softens only slightly as she realizes the truth in your statement, scanning the room herself and calling out for the missing boy. Upon receiving no call back, she thinks for a moment, then looks back down at her clipboard and crosses something out.
“I did mention attendance was mandatory, didn’t I?” This she mutters to herself, “No matter. Instead, you’ll work with,” she gives the paper another once over, then clicks her pen and speaks, “Park Jisung.”
In an awkward burst of both excitement and confusion, Jisung darts out of his chair. His knee hits his desk with a clang, and his laptop would have gone flying if it wasn’t for his quick hands that catch it before it can fall. The loud ruckus turns several heads in his direction, including Professor Hwang’s and more importantly, yours.
Feeling an awful lot like a deer caught in headlights, Jisung blinks as the two of you make eye-contact, then he takes his seat again, very quickly by the way. “Uh, that’s me,” he announces, heat spreading across his face and eyes darting around, “Sorry.”
Does he feel more sorry to his teacher and classmates for disrupting the classroom, or to himself and you for the absolute fool he has just made of himself? As much as he’d like to tear his gaze away from yours and cast it to the ground in embarrassment, it remains stuck on you, awaiting your impending reaction.
You’re rather unsure how to feel, though given, a little surprised at the commotion. You offer him a small smile through pursed lips, and Jisung nods, willing with all his might for a hole to open in the ground beneath him and swallow him.
“Thank you, Mr. Park, for your remarkably clear confirmation. Your constellation is Gemini.”
You turn in your chair to face the front again, scribbling down his name in the corner of your notebook, as well as the constellation you’d been assigned.
“He’s cute,” Karina comments to you as you look over at her, and you finally let out a small laugh you had been holding in.
“He is. Clumsy,” you snort, “but cute.”
“We both got cute partners. We should meet up at the library later and all get started on the project together,”
You nod enthusiastically, going back to your outline that sits at the ready on your laptop screen and making quick work of labeling the different sections evenly. If it wasn’t so obvious for you to spin around and steal a glance, you might have done so again. You’re certainly tempted to, thinking back to seconds ago and realizing you hadn’t really noticed him the last two classes.
Jisung watches your exchange with his dignity at serious risk. He’s entirely unable to hear or make out what you’re saying to each other, and it makes his pulse pick up and his mind race. He considers many things as he watches the two of you talk: firstly, asking to change his partner, but then realizing that would be an awful idea. Once you knew who he was, how would you ever forgive him for immediately ditching you? Absolutely not. Cowering had gotten him nowhere so far.
Then, he considers switching out of the class himself, and disappearing, never to reveal himself to you—but that wasn’t the right thing to do either. Incapable of checking out of your life so quickly and denying himself the treat that is seeing you three times a week (and now, possibly more), he cans that idea, too.
As Professor Hwang finishes reading off the list of names, he begins planning what he’ll actually say to you, as that conversation is just minutes away. There’s less than a half-hour left of class, which means he has to think hard and fast.
As he busies himself with the grueling task of picking an appropriate and redeeming introduction, he doesn’t hear the new instructions from Professor Hwang, which are to find your partner and begin brainstorming, as well as exchanging schedules to set aside time outside of class to work on the presentation. A shadow falls over his desk and consumes his work space in darkness. When his curiously squinted eyes trail up to find the source, only to land on you, hovering above him with your things clutched in your arms, he grips his seat to keep from jumping out of it for the second time today.
“Is this seat taken?”
So much for having time to figure out how to approach you. His heart does a leap of surprise in his chest in place of his physical body, and he resists the urge to clutch it.
“No.” He replies shortly.
With your unfaltering, kind smile still present on your face, you laugh softly and place your things down, introducing yourself.
“You’re Ji-sun, right?”
“—Sung.” he politely corrects you. When you don’t immediately react, he wonders if you had even heard him. He doesn’t put it past himself to have imagined that he replied to you, between his sweating palms and nervous jittering, and your pretty self sitting just a foot away, he’s barely keeping it together. After a moment that feels infinitely longer than it actually is, you raise your eyebrows slightly, round lips parted to ask your question with a palpable hesitance.
“W-what?”
“Jisung,” he quickly replies, pronouncing the ‘g’ clearly and masking the way his eyes widen with a heavy blink that honestly, may not serve as any better of a guise. He pleads with himself to get his shit together but luckily, you don’t seem to notice.
“Oh, sorry… Sorry, It’s just—nevermind. Hi, Jisung.”
“Hi, Y/N.” He savors the way your name feels on his tongue but keeps his enjoyment brief.
“I hope you don’t mind,” you start, lifting the screen of your laptop to reveal the very same outline you had started working on during your last call with him, “but I already made an outline. If you wanna scrap it and start all over, we can—”
“No, It’s fine, we can use this,” when you give him an unsure look, he smiles reassuringly, “It looks brilliant.”
“Thank you.” There’s a pause that is filled only by you clearing your throat, “Ok, I have a literature class right after this one on Mondays and Wednesdays. The rest of my classes are online, so I’m free at any time, really. I usually like to study at the computer labs in the library, it’s nice and private there and I find it much easier to focus. But if you don’t want to go there, we could always go to the cafe or the square for some fresh air. Oh, and either one of our dorm rooms works fine if you’re okay-”
To experience your presence on a phone call is one thing, but to experience it in real life, with your clear voice so arresting and your silky, smooth lips within reach, is absolutely mesmerizing. He’s fighting the urge to glance down at your mouth, but it’s becoming increasingly harder to sustain eye contact, as lovely as he decides your eyes are. Another thing that is becoming exponentially harder, and more sensitive all the same, is his cock, springing to life with an eagerness to greet you.
There’s a bit of panic that flashes across his features as he senses the strain it’s causing in his pants, and only when you look down at your outline does he dare to sneak a glance down at his own groin where as expected, a noticeable imprint was beginning to develop. In a desperate gesture, he slides his notebook over his lap, suppressing a hiss, and leans forward to pretend to use his own laptop.
“Any of those work for me,”
“Okay, great,” You notice the time and turn back to him. “You can just message me when you’re free.”
“Sure.”
“And here’s my number—” you reach over, sliding the protective notebook from his lap and placing it on your desk, scribbling your number in the corner. Jisung immediately readjusts his hoodie, throwing the hem of it over his boner. Professor Hwang dismisses the class as you pass it back.
“Call me whenever you’re free.” With a spin of your heel, you wave goodbye to him and rejoin Karina, who waits for you at the door with her partner.
Jisung lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding, and looks down at the number you wrote. Beside the digits, written in very neat handwriting, might he add, sat perched on a wobbly branch a little black cat that he recognized from his hours of staring as one of your doodles.
•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ
The time is 4:33PM, and Jisung has drafted over a dozen messages on the iMessage app addressed to your number. None of them have exactly made it to you yet, courtesy of his thumb that keeps pressing backspace and wiping out any trace of a remotely embarrassing text. It’s the next day and no introduction or invitation to meet up seems like it’s good enough to send, though he knows that inevitably, he has to text you first. You left your number behind with the doodle that he has since stuck to the corner of his PC monitor, but you never took down his; so now, the ball is in Jisung’s court, and he knows that if he waits too long, you’d think he was avoiding you or the project altogether.
Realistically, he knows a simple “Hi, it’s Jisung,” will suffice, but he can’t bring himself to send you such an unoriginal and boring message. After pondering for a moment, he then decides the best solution would be to do some research, and then call you with his findings—this way, his interest in the project would be clear, and he knows how important that is to you.
At once, he peels your cum-stained cardigan off of his lap, though not before stealing a glance at the day’s new additions, and places it aside. He tucks his spent dick into his short and turns on his monitor, typing the name of the constellation into Google and investigating nearly every website he could find with any useful information.
In the nicest handwriting he can manage, Jisung bullets a list of all the facts and history he could find on ‘Gemini’ within the hour, including the stars that make up the constellation, the myth behind it, and other relevant statistics. It isn’t until he has filled up an entire page front and back—partially—that he picks up his phone again and makes another attempt at contacting you.
Feeling slightly more confident, he types up his message.
To: 555-111-0205
hi, it’s jisung from astronomy. i did some research and i wanted to show you what i found. let me
know if you’re free to exchange notes.
Sent at 5:52 PM.
Jisung rereads over his message for any flaws, though there’s nothing he can do about it now that it’s sent, anyway. After he deems it an okay first message, he takes a breath and moves to put his phone down, but it buzzes in his hand instead.
Incoming call at 5:54 PM From: 555-111-0205
“Hi-”
“Hi! Sorry to just call unannounced but I’m walking to the library with all my stuff and I can’t really text. I was able to book us a computer lab for the next two hours so If you want, we—can you hear me?”
He sits up straighter, “Yeah! Yes, I can hear you,”
“Oh, good, so—wait, hello?” Your voice shifts in volume and proximity, as if you pulled your phone from your ear to check the call screen, then brought it back, “Oh, sorry. I-I thought I had accidentally called someone else… nevermind.” Instantly, Jisung realizes instantly that you must have recognized his voice. It makes sense, seeing as you’re used to hearing it specifically on calls. You seem to show no further suspicion as you continue speaking, though, but perhaps, he should keep talking on the phone with you to a minimum.
“Do you think you can make it? Otherwise I can go work on my own. I saw your text and instantly booked the room. Sorry for not checking in with you first,”
“I’ll meet you there,” He replies quickly, grimacing at the instinctual effort it takes to try and make his voice deeper.
“Okay! Great. I’ll see you there, then.” You hang up, and then your text message comes through with the lab room information just minutes later.
Jisung all but lunges out of his chair and rushes to face himself in the mirror, taking in his reflection. Besides his hair that looks slightly disheveled, he looks alright. He doesn’t want to make you wait long for him, so he quickly grabs his laptop and his notes, shoves them all into his bag, and flies out of his dorm room with the laces of his sneakers left untied.
In the brightly, yellow-lit hallway, Mark and Chenle are popping out of their respective rooms, a basketball clutched under the younger boy’s arm.
“We were just about to come grab you,” Chenle starts, “Let’s play some ball. Jeno’s meeting us at the court,”
“Can’t,” Jisung shakes his head, “I’m going to the library,” he tries to not get offended at the way the two boys snort loudly in disbelief, looking at each other as if they’ve both had the same thought.
“Yeah, right.” Chenle scoffs.
With a blink, Jisung replies meekly, “I’m serious.”
“Since when do you go to the library?” Mark brows pinch and he adds, “It’s the start of term. You’re already studying?”
“Since now, I guess. I have a project for a class so I’m gonna go meet up with my partner at the library, but I’ll catch you guys later.”
“Alright, alright. Oh—remember there’s a party next week at Jaehyun’s frat for syllabus week.”
“Yeah, I’ll be there.” His answer doesn’t seem to fully convince Mark, Chenle, or even himself, but they seem satisfied enough, because they let Jisung go without any more pestering. He flies down the flight of stairs and out the front door of the dormitory.
The cold September air is biting at this time in the evening, feeling particularly cool on the apples of his cheek, which glow from the light layer of sweat that develops during his jog over to the library. It’s a considerable distance away, which is part of the reason why he, in his two years of being a student at the university, has never seriously stepped foot inside of it. Studying in his room is much more convenient, but you seem to like the library, so the twenty-minute-walk there, or in this case, fifteen-minute-jog, will simply have to be adopted as a new way to get in some brief exercise a few times a week.
More than likely, you have already arrived, and Jisung doesn’t want to make you wait too long for him, especially since there’s a two-hour time limit on the room and he intends to spend as much time with you there as he can. He wipes his cheeks with his gray sleeves and climbs up the stairs of the building quickly, swiping his student card at the door and stepping inside.
The ceiling is massively tall, seemingly taller than when he once saw it during freshman orientation, and the endless rows of shelves are filled with books, ranging from thin, colorful novels to thick, leather-bound classics. It’s quieter than he expects it to be, even for a library, and he clearly can hear the pitter patter of his feet as he follows the sign labeled ‘Study Rooms and Computer Labs.’
The guy at the reception desk in this section seems to be a volunteer, his student ID and name tag shining on his shirt. He glances up from his book when Jisung approaches, nodding once. There’s an awkward silence that feels rather loud as Jisung fumbles with his phone, flipping it between his clammy hands as he searches for your message.
“Computer Lab 4C?”
Wordlessly, the boy nods again, then slides over a clip-board with a sign-in sheet clamped to it.
It’s surprising to see how many lab spots are filled up so early into the term, names scribbled along the lines and time-slots. Your name stands out, partly because of your familiar handwriting, but particularly because of the empty line beside it, where he signs in before handing the clip-board back.
“Down the hall, second door on your right.”
It’s Jisung’s turn to bob his head once and the boy looks back down at his book. He makes his way down the hall until he reaches the correctly labeled door. His hand reaches for the handle, but he withdraws it. Should he knock? Or maybe send you a text? Or both?
To: 555-111-0205
hey again. i’m outside :)
Sent at 6:18 PM.
The door creaks open from the taps of his knuckles bumping against it, and he peeks his head in timidly, finding you sitting in one of the desk chairs, nearly hidden behind your laptop and a stack of books. You look up over the screen, eyes squinting in a smile.
“Oh, I had left the door open for you,” you stand up, holding out a cup for him, “and I got you coffee… didn’t know how you liked it so I just got you the same thing I order,”
There’s a fluttering in his stomach as he sets his bag down. There’s no chance he can manage to meet your eyes after such a gesture so he casts them to the ground instead, graciously reaching out to receive with both hands the drink you offer him, “You didn’t have to,” he mumbles, “but thank you. I’m sure your order is great,”
“I wanted to! It’s just—I mean, I did drag you out of your room in the cold and on really short notice—A hot coffee was the least I could do,” you shrug, “One of my friends works at the cafe and I was there doing some work for my literature class before I got your message and I figured I’d grab us both something before I headed over here… Sorry, I’m talking too much. Here, sit down.”
He’s not exactly sure what to say, so he takes his seat beside you in silence, but not without a small smile decorating his face. The notes he had taken down to show you are retrieved from his bag, as well as his laptop. There’s a low screech of your chair dragging across the floor, and he turns to find you’ve scooted closer and you're leaning forward with your cheek resting on your palm, eyes intently looking at his research.
“It isn’t much. I’m sure whatever you found is much more substantial, but I couldn’t show up empty handed.” Jisung explains, sliding the paper over to you. As your eyes scan the page, you make a few comments along the lines of ‘Oh, this is a good point,’ or ‘We should mention this.’
You seem to be very carefully reading his work. Meanwhile, he takes advantage of your preoccupation to let his eyes rake over your person.
The first thing he notices is that you’re wearing a different cardigan, and he suddenly remembers your black one is still on his desk, unwashed and covered in his cum. Your hair looks soft, and when you mindlessly swing it over your shoulder, he catches a whiff of your lavender scented hair wash, and it makes him gnaw the inside of his cheek. You’re not quite close enough for him to catch the perfume you’ve decided to wear tonight, though he can vividly picture the gentle florals that linger still on your cardigan. His eyes trail down, and it’s only then that he notices your skirt—or blatantly, the length of your skirt. Your smooth thighs are exposed, full and fleshy and pressed together, and he suddenly wishes they were wrapped around his head.
“Jisung? You okay?”
“I–Yeah, sorry.” It’s clear that you’ve noticed his staring, and he all but rips his eyes away in embarrassment, “I was just wondering if you were cold,” He gestures down at your legs shyly, pretending the content he’d written on the paper was more interesting the sight of your plush thighs.
For a moment he expects some harsh comment or outburst, but you laugh instead, smoothing the material down a bit, “No, not in here, at least. And the walk over was short, so,” His lips are pursed and his cheeks are burning, but you spare him from any further humiliation when you reach across him to turn the page over and quietly gasp, muttering some surprise under your breath at how extensive his work is. “This is really good. We can use pretty much all of it.”
Failing to hide his beaming at your praise, he snaps his head over to you, “You think so?”
“Yeah, I mean—,” The screen of your laptop changes over to a page of notes, “I pretty much wrote down all the same things. I’m actually so relieved, I was worried I might get paired up with someone who wasn’t gonna contribute.”
“Bet you’re glad you didn’t switch out of the class now, huh?”
Distracted in the notes and in the taste of his coffee, he misses your quick, confused glance his way. Smoothly recovering before he notices, you slowly nod and present to him the layout where you had already taken the liberty to assign him his designated parts. Not that he expected anything else; it’s endearing to see his name labeled over specific sections, color-coded in a blue, bolded font. He wastes no time in pulling up the screen of his computer, exchanging emails with you so the two of you can get to work on the shared document.
The time passes quicker than he hopes, and he realizes just how much he likes spending time with you. Talking with you online is one thing, but sitting beside you as you sip your drink and hum mindlessly, fingers typing away or flipping pages in a book? Completely different game. He’s sure that if it wasn’t because he relieved himself earlier today, he might have popped a boner from the simple act of being in your presence.
Every once in a while, you make an occasional comment regarding a point or two you thought was worth mentioning or adding, and he’d oblige, making a note of it and sharing his thoughts here and there. Occasionally, he manages to steal a look at your thighs, which he swears you’re bouncing and squeezing together on purpose, but for the most part he keeps his focus on the task at hand.
Towards the end of the night, there’s a moment where your hands brush his as you point something out on his screen, and Jisung swears he’s never felt more like a teenage boy in his life. He practically flinches at the contact, failing to mask his awkward reaction and pretending he really meant to fix his hair.
Bidding you farewell is possibly the most difficult of the tasks this evening, even more so than pretending he isn’t completely infatuated with and aroused by you for a whole two hours. When you stand from your seat and walk with him out of the study room, and subsequently, out of the library and into the cold, Jisung faces another of his many dilemmas related to you. He’s not sure if he should offer to walk you back to your dorm, or at the very least halfway there. Perhaps, offering you his jacket would be appropriate, since your skirt wasn’t doing much of a job at keeping you warm.
“You live close by?”
“Yeah! Just a 5 minute walk,” you point your index finger, “In that dorm right over there.”
Jisung nods once, then decides to indulge his impulses. “Here,” he slides his hoodie off with a little less coordination than he would’ve liked, holding it out for you to take, “so you aren’t cold.”
He can’t tell if your cheeks are red from the temperature again or from his gesture, but he hopes it’s the latter. The moment you take his sweater, pretty eyes wide in thanks, he sucks in a breath. It’s much chillier now that the sun is gone, and he fights the urge to chatter his teeth when he offers you a lopsided smile.
“T-thank you,” you tie the sleeves around your waist, covering your lap.
“I’ll see you in class?” he asks.
“Yeah,” you nod, flashing him a final grin before you spin on your heel to head home.
The twenty-minute-walk-fifteen-minute-jog back to his room feels eternal. All of his hair is standing on end, but picking up his pace too much means that the icy wind, which has so graciously decided to blow in his direction, would just become harsher. His palms soak up the little warmth on his stomach, tucked under his t-shirt, as he alternates between speed-walking and jogging. The minutes drag on and on until finally, his building comes into view and he breaks into a run.
•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ
The following morning when he walks into his astronomy class, he follows his usual routine of checking for you in your seat and is almost distraught when he finds it to be empty. It’s not like you to miss a class, and he contemplates reaching for his phone to check-in on you. It isn't until he pans his vision over to his own chair that he spots you. You’re accompanied by Karina and her partner, Heesung, taking up the empty seats beside his own.
On your desk sit two coffee cups like the ones from last night, and he pulls his lip between his teeth to hide the grin that fights to break out.
You look up when you spot him, and Karina and Heesung look up, too.
“Hi…”
“Hi! Jisung, right?” Karina extends her hand out and he takes it, nodding to confirm, “I’m Karina and this is Heesung.” He mumbles another small hello to the boy, who acknowledges him before looking back at his computer.
“Good morning,” you greet as he sits, placing his cup on his desk. “You never told me whether you liked it or not, but I figured you’d grow to like it eventually.”
“I-thanks but,”
“I know: Didn’t have to, but I wanted to. So just say thanks, yeah?”
There’s a familiar burning on his cheeks that always seems to make an appearance when you’re around, but he doesn’t bother masking it this time.
“I wanted to ask you if you would be free to study tonight?”
Instantly, he bobs his head up and down, and you book the study room on your computer just moments before Professor Hwang strides inside the classroom, her glasses on the tip of her sharp, pointed nose.
•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ
The frat house where the seniors stay is practically next door to Jisung’s dormitory, which is why when Mark, Chenle, and Jeno come banging on his door on Saturday night, he realizes he can’t use walking so far in the cold as an excuse to stay home. He also can’t use studying as an excuse anymore, since Mark had already caught him leaving the dorm a few times throughout the week to go study with you. That, and he ran into Jeno as he was entering the library just the night before.
“You’ve been studying plenty,” they’d say, or “We told you about the party last week, no way you’re not going.”
Anyway—the point is, he’ll have to endure tonight, despite his wishes to stay close to his PC for the chance that you’d want to hop into a game. He’d prefer to spend the night talking with you, but that’ll just have to wait until tomorrow. With a somber look on his face, he shrugs on a jacket and opens the door for his friends, who practically drag him outside.
Jeno slings his arm over the taller boy’s shoulders as if to prevent him from fleeing, and the four of them climb down the stairs and onto the path toward the frat. If Jisung strains his ears, he can already pick up on the sounds of the party, even from here.
“You think Chaewon will be there?” Mark asks no one in particular, but the boys all respond simultaneously with groans of distaste.
“You dated her three semesters ago, why do you care?” Chenle starts, “isn’t she seeing Jungwoo now, anyway?”
“That’s exactly why I care,” Mark grumbles, foot kicking a rock along the pavement. “He’s one of the RAs. If he’s there—”
“He’s always there,” Chenle interjects, earning a glare.
“—then she’ll be there, too.”
“So, what happened with… what’s her name, Minjeong? Why don’t you hang out with her?”
“Nah,” He turns to Jeno, “She’s sweet and all, but I found out from Giselle that her and Chaewon are friends, so,”
There’s a chorus of understanding, albeit a bit pitiful, “aah’s” and “oh’s” as the building comes into view. A few people are gathered at and around the entrance while others litter the parking lot with phones and solo cups in their hands as they wait for friends. Among them, and Jisung has to do a double take to make sure, he spots Karina, who waves someone down from the direction of the main courtyard. For a moment, he thinks it might be you who appears from between the treeline, but it’s Heesung who jogs over to meet her and he realizes how silly his thought was in the first place.
In the months he’s known you, you’ve never once brought up a party. In retrospect, you don’t seem like the type to like partying at all. He can picture you clearly now, tearing through textbooks or novels for your literature class, or maybe even typing away to him on Discord and asking if he was online.
He isn’t and can’t be tonight, and he’s very sorry about that, for the record.
Maneuvering through the crowd of tipsy college students isn’t too difficult,and neither is their entry. The door is propped open, and Jaehyun, with his signature snapback that he wears backwards on his dark hair, calls them over from the drink bar.
“First problem I see here,” he starts, “is that none of you have a cup in your hand.”
“We’ve barely made it through the door, man,” Mark laughs, clapping up Jaehyun and moving aside so he can greet the rest of the guys.
“That’s no excuse, you should be sipping on something by now.” He waves his arm, “Take a look around, boys! This is what life is gonna look like for you guys next year—and the year after for you, Jisung.”
Jisung gives a curt, disinterested nod amidst being handed some fruity, fizzy, white claw resemblant that probably wouldn’t taste much different from an Alka-Seltzer. He cracks it open upon being prompted to by Jaehyun, who initiates a “cheers” between the friend group. The moment the alcohol touches his tongue, Jisung grimaces, taking a few long chugs in hopes that the effect will kick in quicker and make the long night that awaits him a little less long.
“Do you know if Chaewon is here?”
Wordlessly, Jaehyun fixes his cap and points a single finger toward the couch, where Chaewon sits besides Jungwoo, leaning in to hear him over the music and giggling at whatever he says in her ear. The boys look over at the couple, then quickly glance back at Mark, whose face falls despite the fact that he knew to expect this.
“Tough,” Jeno gives him a pat on the shoulder, “Hope you have better luck the rest of the night. I’ve gotta bounce,”
“Yo, what do you mean bounce?”
He gestures toward a girl standing near the beer pong table, who looks slightly familiar to Jisung, though he can’t quite put his finger on it, and smirks, “She smiled at me the moment we walked in. I’ll see you later, but I honestly hope I don’t.”
The realization that his friends, in search of their hook-ups for the night, would eventually be abandoning him one-by-one kicks in just then, inviting Jisung to down the rest of his bubbly drink in one go.
Mark rolls his eyes, “You ever notice Jeno is always the first one to get a girl?” His comment earns a few hums of agreement.
“I’m gonna go find Jaemin,” with his phone clutched in his hand, Chenle turns towards the door, “he just texted me he’s outside with Sullyoon and her friend.”
“Wait, Jaemin is—he’s setting you up and not me?” Chenle only shrugs at Mark’s question, replying with a blunt and concise “yeah.”
“I’m not a dog like Jeno though, so I’ll definitely see you guys later.”
As if noticing he was facing the same unfortunate fate as Jisung, Mark turns to the youngest boy with a fearful look in his eyes. Jisung only shakes his head and takes a quick look around, “I’m not planning on hooking up with anyone here, so…” At this, the boy sighs in relief, handing Jisung another drink in solidarity. The two lean against the counter as Jaehyun looks between them, snorting.
“Mark, there’s so many girls here.”
“I know, but—”
“But Chaewon.”
Mark nods, echoing Jaehyun in a quiet, maybe even embarrassed voice, “But Chaewon…”
“Don’t worry, I get it,” he adds sympathetically, “I’m caught up on my ex, too.”
“Uh…” there’s a pause. “Which one?” This comment lands Mark a shove, playful, for the most part. He rubs his shoulder and hisses while Jaehyun, on the other hand, sloshes around the little liquid left in his cup and grabs the closest bottle of alcohol to him, along with whichever random mixer he finds first.
“The only one that really mattered.” He tilts his newly filled red cup back to drink from it, but his eyes peek over the rim and he pulls it from his lips to sigh out, “Speak of the devil and she doth come,” he raises his brows and announces, “there she is now.”
Following his line of sight, Jisung trails his vision toward the front entrance and at once, the sight makes each and every one of his limbs seize up. There’s a twisting and turning in his stomach that almost invites the seltzer he chugged to make a reappearance, and he’s pretty sure the color has drained from his face as he watches you walk inside the frat house behind Karina and Heesung.
So many things go through his mind in such a short amount of time that he fears he may have had some sort of out-of-body experience or hallucination episode; it wasn't really you he was seeing, it couldn’t be. The way your skirt clings to your hips makes him grip his cup tighter within his sweating palm, and the lacy, corset top you’ve decided to wear, which shows off a tasteful bit of cleavage, causes him to swallow down the saliva that had pooled on his tongue.
It was a more provocative outfit than he’d even seen you wear, and if it wasn’t for the fact that Jaehyun opened his mouth to speak, he’s sure he would’ve instantly become bricked up.
“And of course she’s wearing that shirt…” Jaehyun fixes his cap for the second time tonight and straightens out his shirt, “Alright, wish me luck.”
It’s not like Jisung would have interjected anyway, he didn’t really have the grounds to, but he couldn’t even entertain the thought before Jaehyun headed in your direction with decisive confidence. Part of him hopes he was referring to someone else as his ex, perhaps even Karina, since there isn’t another girl in your immediate vicinity besides her, but his bit of hope is crushed as he spots Heesung’s hand intertwined in hers. Surely, Jaehyun wouldn’t be coming up to her if she showed up with someone to his party. It leaves him to reach his regretful conclusion just as his friend and you make eye contact, recognition flashing across your features, along with something else.
Unable to torture himself further by watching your exchange, Jisung tears his eyes away and grabs another drink to make this very, very long night ahead of him somewhat bearable. He turns to Mark, who he didn’t even realize had been talking this whole time, but the loud music and the cloudiness in his mind muffle out his speech.
“—I mean this just sucks! I guess we still have each other, maybe we can find some girls who—”
When did you even date Jaehyun? You hadn’t mentioned him once in the months he had known you. And also, why did you date Jaehyun? Not that there was anything wrong with him, other than his habit of cycling through girls every semester. Mark’s “Which one?” comment had some truth to it, but he would have never expected you to have been on Jaehyun’s roster. It takes him a second to remember that Jaehyun is still his friend, but even then, he can’t fight the bitterness that settles in his bones. What did he mean when he said that you were the only one that mattered? How significant was your relationship with him? There’s too many questions circling his mind, and it isn’t until he downs the fifth drink that they start to blur.
Currently, he’s passing the time conversing with Mark and following him around the party, but more importantly, avoiding you in fear he’ll steal a glance and you’ll be locking lips with your ex. He spots Jaehyun by the bathroom a bit into the night, but thankfully, you aren’t near him. It’s in the middle of a beer pong game with Mark when he dares to glance around in search of you.
First, he spots Karina and Heesung, making out on the couch where Chaewon and Jungwoo once sat. You aren’t near them. Then he spots Jaemin and Chenle dancing with the girls they had met up with, but you aren’t dancing, either.
He’s relieved to find you aren’t with Jaehyun when he spots him, finding instead that his friend is flirting it up with a different girl who is certainly not you. The sight completely pisses him off, and somehow makes him feel immense relief simultaneously. Right around this time, he decides he’s had more than enough of the party. You aren’t here anymore, and Jaehyun’s face is making him fucking sick. Mark is slurring his speech enough that he wouldn’t notice if Jisung just slipped, so he does just that, though he does make sure to mention to Chenle that he’s leaving on his way out so he can keep an eye on Mark.
Outside, the cold is unbearable. The previously crowded lot is empty for the most part, except for a few people puffing clouds of smoke into the air by a bench. Not even the alcohol in his system is enough to warm him up, so he can’t even imagine how a joint could be worth sitting outside for.
The only other person sitting outside is squatted down by the curb with their knees curled up to their chest. As the autumn leaves crack under Jisung’s feet, they turn their head around.
“I told you I don’t wanna—Jisung?”
Your big eyes widen in his direction, and you shoot up from the ground. Jisung’s brow lowers in concern and he notices the only thing you have to cover up is a flimsy cardigan. You and your damn, flimsy cardigans.
“What are you doing out here?”
“Sorry for snapping I—sorry,” you shiver involuntarily as a gust of wind blows through, wrapping your arms around yourself, “I thought you were someone else.”
There isn't a sliver of hesitation before Jisung shrugs off his leather jacket and begins to wrap it around you, grumbling, “Are you crazy? You must be freezing,”
“I’m fine—“
“This should help,”
“But- Jisung, how many of your jackets am I gonna take—”
“As many as you need to.” Your lack of a response makes him look back up to meet your eyes, round and much warmer than the rest of you was right now. He clears his throat, guiding your sleeves into the arms of the jacket as he jokes, “or until you bring your own.”
You smile, muttering a small ‘thank you’ as the warmth engulfs you, along with the smell of him and some cheap cologne only a college student would buy. He’s tugging the collar closer to cover up your exposed neck and chest, eyes flickering down at your bare skin despite being well aware that you’re looking. Where this newfound boldness came from tonight, he doesn’t know. What he does know is that his boldness is always rather short-lived when it comes to you, and tends to appear and disappear like random spurts of energy—he’ll take advantage of it this once. Especially now that he knows you’re Jaehyun’s ex and the most he might even get to do is gawk at you, he intends to make it worth it.
“You must be freezing now, though,” you start, “should we go somewhere warm?”
“How about the library?”
You laugh, looking at him in disbelief, “The library isn’t open at this time, much less on the weekend,”
“Right…”
“Wanna go to mine?” Your suggestion makes his breath hitch for a second, but he manages to respond with decent clarity.
“You live by the library, though. That’s like a half-hour walk. I don’t think you’ll make it that far without turning into an icicle,”
“Well, I don’t really wanna go back inside…” he knows why, so he offers something else.
“My dorm is five minutes away. We could go there if you want, b-but if you’d rather go somewhere else—”
“Okay,” you nod eagerly, “let’s go.”
As Jisung leads the way, speed-walking to beat the chill that spreads through his newly uncovered limbs, he turns his face to you, watching as you tuck the lower half of your face into his coat.
“I don’t know if you want to work on the project or—”
“God no,” you huff, rolling your eyes, “I’m not that much of a buzzkill, dude.” You jog a little to catch up to his longer strides, “Besides, I have like three shots of Pink Whitney in me,”
“Foul.”
“I know. Can’t think about a project right now,”
“I’ve had a bit to drink, too.” he admits.
“I can tell. You’re stumbling.”
He snaps his head around, down to his feet, then back to you. “What? Am I?”
There’s a small, stupid smile on your face as you shake your head. “No.”
He can’t pinpoint why this banter with you is so easy, why it feels so right. Or perhaps, he can, but regardless, his heart leaps in his chest as he scoffs, not fighting the shit-eating grin that spreads on his frosted cheeks.
"It’s that building right over there,” he points.
“You weren’t kidding when you said it was close,”
The two of you climb the stairs and he opens the main door for you, watching you sigh out in bliss as you step into the warmth of the hall. You bounce around in a cute way that once more tugs at his heart-strings, still looking all puffed up and adorable in his jacket that entirely engulfs your frame. He leads you up another flight of stairs and onto the floor his room is at, and once the two of you stop in front of his door, he pats his jean pockets.
“Oh my uh- my keys are in the pocket of the jacket.”
You mimic his recent action, patting around until you find his keys, holding them out for him to take.
Somewhat awkwardly, he fumbles with them until he manages to fit it into the lock, opening the door with one hand. He gestures for you to enter his room with a small shrug, “Make yourself at home.”
As you step inside, Jisung makes it a point to quietly thank whatever higher power compelled him to make his bed this afternoon. The rest of his room wasn’t perfectly organized by any means, but at the very least, his bed, which you now sat at the foot of with your legs bouncing, was neatly made.
“You have your own room?” You mutter in surprise as you look around the small space and notice the lack of a second bed. The tall boy beside you just shrugs again, toeing off his shoes in the corner as he pulls the door closed.
“Yeah, uh… I’m one of the RAs for the sophomore class.”
“Wow,” you sigh, “I wish! I mean, I love sharing a room with Karina, but it’s nice to have space for myself sometimes.”
“That’s why you’re always at the library?”
You nod, sliding your palms across his duvet, “It’s nice and quiet,” your fingers move to grip and release the material, and he blinks harshly to erase the sight of that from his mind before it causes him to spiral. It didn’t prove to be very useful, though, because your still-exposed thighs move and press together, just as they did at the library, and his dick gives a little twitch in response.
“I’ll get you some clothes to change into, that way you’re more comfortable.” he decides, more for his sake than yours. You don’t answer, continuing to look around, taking in the details of his computer that flashes in a bunch of different colors.
“You know I gave up extra storage in my bedside table to be able to keep my PC? I let Karina take it to her side of the room so I’d have space for my setup.”
Rummaging through his drawers, he pipes up, “you game?” as if it wasn’t something he already knew about you.
“I love it. I stayed here for most of the summer just because I had my computer here.”
Jisung picks out a pair of sweats for you and one for himself, along with a t-shirt he knows he recently washed, then he turns, handing it over to you. “I’ll change in the bathroom down the hall and then wait outside. You can crack the door open when you’re done,”
“Thank you, Jisung.”
There’s a gentle sincerity in your tone that makes him wanna say “anything for you,” but he settles for pursing his lips instead, leaving to let you change before he can embarrass himself with any baseless comment you wouldn’t really get. The effect of the drinks still hadn’t completely faded, and he fears he’s capable of saying just about any of his stupid thoughts out loud right about now.
You weren’t completely sober either, not by any means. The trashy vodka your ex offered you in an attempt to reconcile was as bitter as the end of your relationship with him, and it was flowing through your veins and giving you that light-headed buzz. You stand up and slip off your boots and Jisung’s jacket, along with your skirt. Your top requires a bit more precision, the lace getting twisted and tangled in your uncoordinated fingers. There’s little huffs and puffs of frustration that leave your lips during your struggle, and you’d almost consider asking for help if it wasn’t completely inappropriate.
Finally, though, you manage to get it off and slip on the change of clothes Jisung has so graciously provided. They’re warm and they smell good, and they’re much more comfortable than your outfit which is now folded on Jisung’s gaming chair, alongside your purse.
When you look up in admiration of his impressive keyboard, which looks to be custom made, and your eyes trail up to his monitor, you notice something on the corner of the screen. The mindless doodle you had drawn beside your phone number that day in class had been very carefully cut out and stuck onto his screen with tape.
“You okay?”
His voice calls from outside, quietly as if not to disturb you even though it’s you who is occupying his room.
“Yeah, I’m almost done!”
“I thought that she was gonna assign them on Friday?”
Sung had asked you that on call, in regards to the constellation project you mentioned you wanted to start working on. Not Jisung, Sung. Sung, who is not in your astronomy class and would have had no way of knowing when or even what your professor would be assigning.
“You’re Ji-sun, right?”
“—Sung.”
The nickname sounded very right coming from his lips, from his voice. You never gave his nickname too much thought, because truly, Sung could just be a display name. And if it is his real name, it could stand for anything: Sungmin, Sungwoo, Daesung, Ilsung, Jaesung… Jisung.
And then, you recall the time you spoke on the phone—specifically, the time you had to do a double take at your screen to make sure you hadn’t actually called Sung. It was the first time you had spoken to Jisung on the phone, and it’s the only way you had even spoken to Sung… something about it seemed so, so strangely familiar.
Could it be…
“Alright, I’m done!” Your announcement comes after the realization that he’s been waiting outside for a few minutes already.
“Coming in…” He warns, eyes still cast to the ground in case you weren’t decent. They slowly make their way up, and something flashes across his features at the sight of you. You try to ignore it, still preoccupied by your growing suspicions. His computer is on… meaning…
“Let me let Karina know I left… I kinda just walked out on her.”
Jisung nods and takes a cautious seat on his bed a few feet away from you.
As you open the discord app on your phone, you scroll to the top to find his contact and type out a simple Hi, clicking send with your heart beating faster than usual. It’s an impulsive act, but you can’t help yourself. If there’s even a chance…
Instantly, his screen lights up and through his headphones you hear the familiar chime of the notification coming in.
“I knew it! I fucking knew it!”
If it’s possible, Jisung’s face grows even paler than it already was naturally, and even more gloom than it appeared earlier in the night when he identified you as Jaehyun’s ex. All of his features are alert and in shock, watching as you spin around to face him.
“Sung? Right? That’s you?”
He’s struggling to read your expression, and it’s beyond obvious. The only change in his demeanor is the now tensed up shoulders and the redness that takes over the white on his cheeks.
“I—” Are you mad? Should he apologize?
“Did you know all this time? That it was me, I mean?”
He nods slowly, unable to find the appropriate words to say.
Two things happen just then. First, your hand smacks his arm, hard. “You fucking idiot!” and Second, you topple into his arms, hugging him. Initially, his hands hesitate to wrap around you, hovering above your waist as you squeeze his neck.
“You’re not mad?” He asks shyly. You shake your head against him, then lift off with your hands on his shoulders to take a real good look at his face.
“No! I’m so glad, I thought I was going crazy. Why didn’t you tell me?”
He shrugs again, a gesture he seems to do a lot around you.
“Since when did you know it was me?”
“Since I heard you speak on the very first day in class. I recognized your voice.”
Your eyes soften at this small confession, and you look back towards his desk, “So, this is where you were this whole time while we played? This close? A twenty-minute walk away?” You shoot up from the bed and cross the small distance to the desk, swiping an index finger along the surface, then his mouse, then his keyboard, and all of his other equipment. Your eyes are beaming, looking around and familiarizing yourself with his things. All the things you wondered about him are now laid out in front of you, and it’s exhilarating.
“I was so excited when I found out,”
“You should’ve told me,” you repeat, still taking in his pictures and personal items, your profound curiosity surfacing within you.
“I was worried about making a good first impression, you’re…”
“I’m…?” you press, turning to him for a moment.
“You’re really pretty in person.”
In that moment when you turn away to hide your blush, with the words “you’re really cute in person, too” ready to spill from your tongue in a sweet and shy whisper, a small black pile on the corner of his dresser catches your eye.
“What’s that—”
“Oh nothing! It’s just—”
“Is that my cardigan?”
Forget distraught, forget embarrassed, forget every possible synonym for the word humiliation. Not a single one would do what he’s feeling in this moment even a sliver of justice. Jisung is convinced his soul has left his body, that he’s passed on or that the ground has swallowed him whole. In fact, he’d prefer it that way. He has never felt more panic in his life as you quickly approach the cum-stained cardigan that he took from you, that he pleasured himself with countless times, that he still hasn’t washed…
“You dropped it in class, and I-I meant to give it back to you, you know, a-after I washed it, but then—”
As you turn the material over in your hands, taking note of and examining the stains, Jisungs breath completely cuts off. You spin slowly on your heel, facing him. There’s an unreadable expression on your face, and it takes every bit of the little pride he has left to not squeeze his eyes shut.
“Are these—”
His voice is no more than a sputtering squeak, “I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry. Fuck, you must think—”
“Jisung.”
“I didn’t mean to keep it for so long, or-or at all, really, it’s just—”
“Jisung.” He’s pretty sure you can hear him gulp. “Were you using my cardigan to get off?”
“I-”
“Were you?” You ask sternly.
He sucks in a breath, unable to look at you any longer as the faintest of yeses leaves his pouty lips.
There’s a moment of silence. A terribly long, excruciating moment of silence where Jisung can think of no way to make this up to you. He’s beyond ashamed, palms clasped together and sweating, face red with horror, inside of his cheek clamped tightly between his teeth, the whole nine miles. So much for mulling over how he’d reveal who he was to you, and so much for all the overthinking he did, all the times he planned out exactly what to say to you and how. Now, it’s all coming to an end because of this damned cardigan. He should’ve just washed it and given it back to you after the first time—no, he shouldn’t have used it at all. His mind is filled with thoughts of everything and nothing at the same time, and he’s already beginning to mourn the loss of your friendship when you say the unthinkable:
“Show me.”
*. * ·
taglist: @heartlvrrss @albedoloser @zp00ks @simpforarmihn @toroufriteh @quokkatss @jising-jisang-jisung @camstqr @tangerinehyuck @ma-riiii @minlvrpage @hancafe
there are some users that couldn't be tagged, as tumblr did not recognize their accounts. sorry :((
#nct imagines#nct fluff#nct x reader#nct fanfic#nct#nct reactions#nct moodboard#nct dream#nct 127#nct smut#park jisung fluff#park jisung#jisung x reader#park jisung scenarios#nct dream reactions#nct dream fluff#nct dream x reader#jisung imagines#jisung smut#nct jisung#nct icons#park jisung smut#nct jisung smut#catboyieejeno#catboyieejeno gameboy#jisung nct#nct dream imagines#jisung scenarios#nct dream scenarios
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𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐄𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌 | 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐖𝐎𝐍𝐁𝐈𝐍
what started with matching with your best friend’s older brother on tinder lead to countless weekend nights of sneaking into his bedroom.
warnings(17+). mentions of anton and sex.
it wasn’t supposed to happen. you had tried to convince yourself that a million times til’ it started sounding like a broken record. matching with your best friend’s older brother on tinder wasn’t supposed to happen, and it was not coincidental.
you had created a tinder account just to see what type of men you’d realistically be able to pull and after a few swipes, left and right, you and wonbin have liked each other.
you and him were a match. your stomach churned when realization hit, staring at his profile in shock.
well.. it was him. his name printed brightly on your screen with his age next to it. that same fine, blonde-haired man in the pictures who had a few of his interests listed down below. shopping, guitar, dancing.
you had wondered if his thumb hovered over the send a message icon like yours had that night. you’ve always found wonbin attractive, physically and his personality.
but a part of you felt guilty every time anton came into mind when you’d think about your feelings for wonbin. how would you even be able to explain that you matched with his brother on tinder.. or that you were on tinder in the first place.
but that lingering thought didn’t seem to go far because you both ended up clicking the button and began chatting, bonding over the mere coincidence of you both finding each other on a dating app.
and ever since that night, you’ve been hooking up with him. it was hard going to the brothers’ shared apartment just for wonbin, so you had made a routine.
weekly hangouts. meaning you and anton would watch movies or play games every weekend until he fell asleep, and you’d sneak into wonbin’s bedroom.
you felt the couch dip next to you, “don’t eat up all the popcorn.” anton told you, sitting criss-crossed as he playfully snatched the bowl of popcorn from your arms.
“then pee faster next time.” you told him, clicking play on the horror movie you both had started earlier.
it was getting late and as time continued to pass, you could sense anton’s tiredness. he would doze off next to you, head falling back occasionally.
you’d wait for the right opportunity to help him lie down and pull the blanket you shared with him onto his body entirely. you wouldn’t need it anyway because you were already heading down the hallway to wonbin’s door.
you could hear faint music playing, probably playing from his late night playlist. you twist the doorknob slowly, walking into his room.
wonbin’s on his bed, putting stickers on his guitar when he met your eyes, a small smile immediately creeping onto his lips.
without saying anything, you watched as he peeled back a sticker, sticking it onto his electric guitar. something about the image of him with the guitar had turned you on even more.
you remembered all the times where he would sit you down and play his guitar for you, showing you different songs he learned how to play.
“you need something?” wonbin asked, applying pressure to the sticker once more before giving you his full attention. he had that stupid smile on his face and it took everything in you not to kiss it off of him.
“nope. just wanted to say goodnight.” you shrugged your shoulders and turned on your heels to leave but he cleared his throat.
“i was just playing,” wonbin chuckled again, pushing his guitar from his lap, “c’mere.” your stomach churned at his words and you immediately hauled at him, taking a seat on his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck.
“i missed you.” you admitted. and it was almost instant how he pulled you into a kiss. your lips were soft against his, pillowy as his fingers lingered on your waist.
you missed him; his smell, his touch, his scent, his voice, everything.
warmth blossomed in your chest again, and again. and when he pulled away to look at you, the warmth consumed your entire body. “show me how much you missed me.” he told you.
and you did. because in an instant, you were on top of him, gripping onto his shoulders as you rode his cock as if it would be the last time you’d ever see him.
he was soooo deep in you, hitting spots you’d never imagine. you could feel him in your stomach and each movement of your hips had wonbin whimpering underneath you, fingers digging into your waist with hitched breaths.
your mind is so fuzzy that all you can think about is how much he’s stretching your dripping cunt and getting filled to the brim with his cum. wonbin’s mouth is agape, silent moans falling past his lips that’s glistening with his drool.
“bounce.. make me cum.” he mewled, biting back his bottom lip, eyes never leaving your squinted ones. planting your feet into the mattress, you comply with his request, clenching around him hard, bouncing on his cock and earning more whimpers from him.
he looked so pretty— collarbones more prominent from his heavy breathing, cheeks red with some of his blonde bangs sticking onto his forehead. it was so hard to stay quiet knowing that your best friend was sleeping just down the hallways but how could you stay quiet when he’s filling you so deliciously?
“feels so good.. sososo good.” you groaned quietly, and wonbin nuzzled his face into your sweaty neck, that familiar knot in his stomach struggling not to snap. “k-keep using me. fuck, keep fucking me.” he moaned, sucking pretty little marks onto your neck.
the desperation in his voice was enough to push you over the edge. “wonbin.. m’ cumming..” you moaned, you’re hips stuttered as your walls spasmed around him, body shaking as you cream all over his cock.
it felt as if the earth shattered on its axis from how hard your orgasm hit you, and your body goes numb while you catch your breath. wonbin pulled your body into his arms, thrusting into your limp body to chase his own orgasm.
drinking in your trembling form, body shaking with small whines, wonbin couldn’t hold back anymore. “s’good, f-fuck, i’m close..” he whined, body stilling. and he spills his load into your aching cunt.
both of you stayed like that for a while. and you couldn’t help but thank tinder for getting you the best dick in your life.
a/n. very short very simple.. yeah
#hottestvirginwrites#smut#kpop smut#riize hard thoughts#riize hard hours#riize smut#wonbin#wonbin x reader#wonbin x you#wonbin smut#park wonbin smut#wonbin drabbles#riize x reader
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Idia drabble, fluff, lots of couple banter
Your wishlist containing released games is empty.
In the next several minutes after saving a title to one, you can expect a notification that the game is getting downloaded, and a mere seconds after that—several messages from your boyfriend.
“thought u would never play it lol”
“weren't you supposed to be studying??”
He sends a meme degrading your hierarchy of values as if he were any better. It is followed by a request.
“stream it to me when you play it”
And you do, after thanking him yet chiding him for wasting too much money on you without a second thought. His reply was a string of emojis and guarantee that he is doing it all for himself, because “educating you on the topic of latest games is his duty” and he cares about “the boyfriend points”.
“I hope my love’o’meter for u was broken by all that pampering lmao”
“waiting for my cg to load up…”
[NAME]: “not enough affection points”
“damn”
“i need a walkthroughyt to this route”
Idia has you join a voice channel, with you sharing your screen. Playing a game in a separate dorm is a whole different experience than having him beside you, with his hands almost trembling to grab your controller if you couldn’t get past a certain level.
He would always wait for you to ask him for help, though. Then he could let the feeling of self-satisfaction sink in as he easily guided your character to another enemy to slash.
If he only has you on the voice chat, you might be able to finish the game almost fully by yourself.
You can hear the soft sound of his keyboard as he plays something as well. He divides his attention between you and his entertainment, and he throws in commentary to your playthrough, teasing you when you can’t find a secret key to the special gate, bullying you when you find the puzzles too hard, or when you pick the wrong dialogue option.
At some point, you might try to (playfully) mute his microphone, but you can only have eight seconds of silence before he hacks into the options.
“No need to be jealous of my gaming knowledge,” he exclaims, and you know he has that big stupid grin on his face. You huff, and he hums. “But if you want me to help, all you need to do is just ask.”
“I want to go through this game myself!”
“Okay, sure. But you know you have already missed the opportunity for the best ending, no?” He laughs. “That’s what you get for muting me, kitten.”
No need to spoil the ending just to get back at me, you’d love to say, but you learned that the shy boy who couldn’t hold your gaze several months ago is actually a big tease. You must’ve grown too much on him, as he would have continued the bickering even if you showed up in his room. No social anxiety towards you—that’s a bit of a shame, he was cute when you first started dating.
…Well, Idia you know now is a cutie as well, even if he can be very annoying sometimes.
“Enough. I’m going to play my otome games, bye.”
You log out, and shut the stream, chuckling all the time. A funny feeling tingled your heart, like always when you won (or have you?) in banter in Idia: your heart is warm enough to probably melt through the ribcage, but a subtle alarm rings in your head. Idia will probably take revenge for this.
He must already be in distress. He doesn’t like you playing otome games alone, as if you could have ever preferred a 2D boy over Idia. The thought makes you laugh.
You plop on your bed, unlocking your phone and tapping an icon of the name game you’ve installed. Although playing it with Idia would have been funnier, you are going to play him just out of spite.
…And after that, you will send him a wall of text about those handsome characters, because he needs to be updated on your current obsessions.
The title screen appears before everything crashes and the screen goes black. Several messages in neon-blue futuristic font colour appear one by one.
An error has occurred.
Caught exception:
Traceback (most recent call last):
File “characters”, line 46, in script
File “stats”, line 153, in script
File “story”, line 665, in script
File “achievements”, line 411, in log.1
File “backup_data”, line 139, in log
To continue:
“[Name]-san. Please come to our dorm. My brother is moping (so he won’t be finishing his project anytime soon, which is, really bad) and I would appreciate you having mercy on him.
Once you come, I will restore your data! It’s a promise :>
— ORTHO”
…Damn those Shrouds.
#idia strikes me as a man who can play a games with you but if it's not a cozy game he will criticize you a lot#he would probably love playing with you but his inner desire for winning a game is bigger than anything#watching him play a game is a show though#bring the popcorn#he could be a popular gaming streamer if he didn't fear people irl would comment on it#idia shroud#idia shroud x reader#idia x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#twisted wonderland#twst x reader#twst#twisted wonderland imagines#twst imagines#twst idia#twst idia x reader#as a computer science student i have no idea if an error like that could occur (burning in shame)
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Ellie is away... // e.w
chapter 1 – 2002, Senior year High school
a/n: helooo:)) okay so this is my first series and first time actually writing something, i'm aware its not the best but its just for fun so idrc. im new to tumblr and i'm still trying to figure everything out so, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated. this is based off the game emily's away. also i know youtube wasn't really a thing back in 2002 but for my own sake, please, lets pretend it was.
wc/cw: 1.6k. swearing, mention of drugs (just ellie saying she wants to get high) loser!ellie(??) don't know but anyways they're both simps but too scared to make a move on each other. no smut but still MDNI.
summary: a time before skype and facebook, windows xp just came out and Windows Messenger was the thing of the moment. you just got a new computer to chat with your friends
➥ part two
since windows xp came out everyone's been talking about this new instant message thing that lets you chat with your friends, everyone had it, your friends, your whole school had made an account on it, hell even your teachers used it, everyone except you and that was because you didn't even own a computer in the first place. you've begged and begged your parents until they got you one, you didn't care what kind of computer it was, even the cheapest and the shittiest worked for you as long as you could chat with your friends it was safe to say that they bullied you into getting one
you made an account and signed in, typing in the search bar their weird usernames to add them to your 'friends list'. you made sure to write all their usernames down on a piece of paper before you rushed home, Ellie even had to explain to you how to do it. you picked a random icon for your profile and tried your best to pick a not so stupid and childish username
who thought that picking a username for your account would be so hard? shit, you swore you probably spent more time picking a user than on your math problems and you weren't even that good in math.
you made sure to include your name in it so that your friends would recognize you and not freak out when they saw a friend request from a certain somebody
dinathedrummer ⇨ friend request sent.
jessescool ⇨ friend request sent.
brickmaster ⇨ friend request sent.
now you just had to wait until they accepted your request. meanwhile you just navigated on the internet, trying to learn a thing or two about your new computer, it was so odd but addictive.
you nearly jump when you hear a sound coming from your computer and something popping up in the right corner of your screen
brickmaster has accepted your friend request!
you eagerly click on it and it immediately leads you to the chat, your fingers aggressively hitting the keycaps almost too enthusiastic to chat with your friend Ellie (as if you don't see her daily)
brickmaster has signed in.
ynshere: Ellll!!! hiii
brickmaster: aboutt freaking time
ynshere: right
ynshere: but hey
ynshere: better later than never, right?
brickmaster: yeah yeah
brickmaster: nice icon by the way
brickmaster: so, whats up??
ynshere: nothing really, just talking to you
ynshere: what are you up to?
brickmaster: nothin, just listening to music :)
ynshere: ew what's that
brickmaster: rude
brickmaster: it's called smiley face
brickmaster: i really gotta teach you everything don't i?
ynshere: shut up
ynshere: i know what it's called, i'm not stupid
brickmaster: you sure about that?
ynshere: positive :P
brickmaster: ooooh
brickmaster: look at yn go
ynshere: shut it
ynshere: so what are you listening to?
ynshere: your depressing music again?
brickmaster: you're one to talk
brickmaster: my grandma got the same music taste as you
brickmaster: even Joel got better taste than you
ynshere: okay and
brickmaster: and you'd be nothing without me
brickmaster: let me educate you
brickmaster: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vabnZ9-ex7o
ynshere: not bad
brickmaster: told you
brickmaster: it's one of my favorite
ynshere: not that good either
brickmaster: now you're just being delusional
brickmaster: remind me why we're friends again
ynshere: because i'm great and you love me
brickmaster: don't know about that
ynshere: and because i let you copy my homework every single day
brickmaster: yep, that's the one
ynshere: i hate you Williams
brickmaster: sorry can't hear you over my depressing music
ynshere: i hope Joel takes your computer away again
brickmaster: oh hell no
brickmaster: it took me 2 weeks to get it back
brickmaster: you have no idea of what i had to do to get it back
ynshere: lmao now i really wanna know
brickmaster: had to spend time with him hiking and watching action movies with him
brickmaster: i even had to help out the neighbor, take care of his garden and all that shit, even take care of his goddamn dog (nothing against the pup he was such a good boy) but still
brickmaster: he's so against technology he really expects us to live like dinosaurs and those primitive dudes
ynshere: lol yeah my mum's the same way
ynshere: are you going to Jesse's party tonight?
brickmaster: of course i'm going
brickmaster: his parties are always fun
brickmaster: and i really wanna get high tonight
brickmaster: are you?
ynshere: well if you’re going i am too
ynshere: it’s crazy we’re already having end of school parties
brickmaster: dude
brickmaster: can't wait for highschool to be over
ynshere: ahh same here
ynshere: i'm so over this school
brickmaster: yeah same
brickmaster: you know Cat from our math class?
brickmaster: she won’t stop messaging me
brickmaster: we've been messaging for days
ynshere: what does she want?
brickmaster: nothin she just wants to talk
brickmaster: she said she thinks i'm cool
brickmaster: like i don't know that already
ynshere: you're so damn cocky
ynshere: you ain't even cool
brickmaster: what?
brickmaster: jealous?
ynshere: of what?
ynshere: there's nothing to be jealous of
brickmaster: cause i'm the coolest and you're just a loser
ynshere: yeah yeah keep talking
ynshere: so you like like her?
brickmaster: she's pretty and all but i don't know
brickmaster: too clingy
ynshere: wait
ynshere: is it THAT Cat
ynshere: the girl with the tattoo?
brickmaster: yep
brickmaster: the one Dina hates
ynshere: oh yeah
ynshere: don't like her either
brickmaster: now you're just being mean
ynshere: bitch you're the first who called her clingy
brickmaster: i was describing her
ynshere: and i was just telling you how i feel about her
brickmaster: uh oh someone’s mad
ynshere: you're making me regret getting a computer in the first place
brickmaster: i'm kidding i'm kidding
brickmaster: you're just so easy to mess with
ynshere: uh huh
ynshere: fuckk just one more month to graduation
brickmaster: man don't remind me
brickmaster: we're getting old
brickmaster: did you pick a school yet?
ynshere: didn’t get accepted into my reach school :(
ynshere: so i'm just going to one of the others
ynshere: i don't mind though, anything’s better than high school. where are you gonna go?
brickmaster: aw man i'm sorry, i remember you telling me how bad you wanted to get into that school
brickmaster: going to art school :)
ynshere: yeah makes sense
ynshere: you always liked drawing after all
ynshere: and you're also very talented
brickmaster: thank you
brickmaster: took me some time to convince Joel but eventually he gave in
ynshere: i'm glad he did
ynshere: would've been a waste of talent
ynshere: i still have the drawing you made for me two years ago :)
brickmaster: lol really??
brickmaster: i wasn't even that good back then but i got better
ynshere: dude you joking right
ynshere: it's literally so accurate and you even managed to make me look pretty
brickmaster: lol i'm serious
brickmaster: i can do so much better now
brickmaster: maybe i should draw you again sometime
ynshere: i mean i am an excellent muse so why not
brickmaster: totally
brickmaster: can't believe you kept it
ynshere: of course i did, it's so pretty
ynshere: no one has ever made me a drawing before lol
brickmaster: glad to be your first ;)
ynshere: god that thing is horrendous
brickmaster: you literally used it a few minutes ago
ynshere: maybe Joel was right
ynshere: technology really is bad for you
ynshere: are you starting to see things, Williams?
brickmaster: oh please
brickmaster: this is why no one likes you
ynshere: seriously though
ynshere: you promise to be there for me even if we won't see each other everyday?
ynshere: you're my best friend i don't wanna lose you :(
brickmaster: shut up you're literally one of my best friends
brickmaster: nothing could ever keep me from talking to you
brickmaster: who’s gonna annoy you when i leavee
ynshere: right
ynshere: i’d be miserable without you
ynshere: asshole
brickmaster: here we go with the pet names again
brickmaster: stop flirting its working on me
ynshere: see what i mean
ynshere: i could never go without all this
ynshere: you're like one of the few people who made high school tolerable
brickmaster: same goes for you stupid
brickmaster: you made it fun
ynshere: i know
ynshere: who's miserable without me now?
brickmaster: shut up you dork
brickmaster: Dina’s coming over in a few so we can head to the party together
ynshere: alright so i'll see you two there?
brickmaster: yep i'll see you there
brickmaster: think Cat is gonna be there too?
brickmaster: what if she wants to hang out with us
ynshere: don't know El
ynshere: she’ll definitely be there
ynshere: you don't want her around?
brickmaster: i mean, i don't know
brickmaster: i don't wanna be a prick
ynshere: you are a prick
ynshere: just tell her you're not interested
brickmaster: yeah i think i will
brickmaster: or i could just avoid her, she’ll get the hint, right?
ynshere: or you could just tell her
ynshere: why so scared?
brickmaster: i just don't wanna be mean and hurt her i guess
brickmaster: but it's whatever. i'll tell her i don't like her that way
brickmaster: it's better than leading her on
ynshere: mhm
ynshere: look at you being mature
brickmaster: shut up
brickmaster: shit, Dina’s here
brickmaster: see you soon?
ynshere: see you soon ;)
brickmaster: oh look you just did it again
ynshere is away.
brickmaster: of course you'd do that.
brickmaster is away.
¡! daily click・palestine masterpost・do not buy any game from naughty dog, neil druckmann is a zionist・more daily clicks. ¡!
#ellie williams#ellie tlou#ellie x fem reader#ellie x reader#the last of us 2#tlou2#ellie the last of us#naughty dog#wlw#sapphic#lesbianism#angst#slow burn#ellie x you#ellie x y/n#tlou ellie#the last of us#tlou#tlou x reader#tlou x you#tlou x y/n#loser ellie#loser!ellie#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams x you#ellie williams tlou#ellie williams x female reader#ellie is away...
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Hello, I've been trying to reach you about your cars extended warranty:)
(Requesting Reverse Isekai AU thingy please^^)
I don't even have a car 😭 (thank you for requesting muah 😘)
Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader
Word count: 1.1k
Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, lovestruck reader, reverse isekai AU, fluff.
ʕ·ᴥ·ʔ
One minute you're mindlessly scrolling through your phone with your headphones blaring loud music, a minute later you're screaming bloody murder when a geometric glowing portal pops up in your room. It made everything in the room glow orange and yellow as confusion and surprise took over your form.
Are you getting abducted by aliens? Are you in an episode of Rick and Morty? If so, then multiverses are real, it's either that or the mold from your numerous stock water bottles has finally gotten to your brain.
A half second into your contemplation, out comes a man that you're oh so familiar with and oh so smitten with. His boots thump loudly on your floors, spikes glimmering under the red LED lights. The whites of his mask widen when he spots you cowering in the corner, darkness overtakes you when his oh so familiar voice echoes above the whir of the portal.
“This ain't 1346.” You fall off the bed like a damsel in distress.
—
You wake up to water gently splashing your face, flicking more like. And your head aching, eyes adjusting to the sudden light.
“Fuckin' finally, I thought you were dead.” A garbled voice utters as your ears try to waken up from your deep nap. “You alright there?” His voice clears and you still think you're dreaming when Hobie Brown's mask pops up in your vision, droopy eyeliner, spikes and all that jazz that you've practically memorized in your mind.
You thought your poster has once again fallen off the walls and onto your bed. But no, when you touched his bicep abruptly, eyes as wide as saucers, lips stuttering out his name. Your favourite character is real and right in your bedroom, flicking water from one of your numerous discarded water bottles on your bedside.
Even your wildest imagination couldn't make this up.
“You're Hobie Brown.” You say in disbelief, voice just above a whisper.
“Yeah, I figured you know me based on all of these…” he roams his eyes on your walls and table. “...posters and stickers. What am I over here? A rockstar or somethin’? Since you know my name.”
“You're Hobie motherfucking Brown!” You screech, suddenly jumping off the bed, looking like someone just told you Santa isn't real.
“That I am.” Said man has the audacity to smirk at you. And you swear you would have fainted again. “You a big fan?”
“I love you.” Your voice merely a murmur but he for sure heard it as the eyes of his mask widened for a brief second.
“I think it's time for us to chat, yeah, love?”
“L-love? Fucking…” voice wavering, you drop once again, but this time he catches you perfectly without the motion sickness from traveling to one dimension after another.
Hobie chuckles, eyes staring at your sleeping face, mouth still agape from the surprise and skin hot under his gloves. “Never thought someone could faint twice in one day.”
—
There's a glass of cold water in your hands, legs nervously bouncing under the blanket. He sits at the foot of your bed, giving you enough space so as to not make you uncomfortable in your own home, and to also not make you pass out (again) from the close proximity. His iconic boots are discarded, vest folded next to him, and mask in his pocket. You almost fainted again when he took it off.
“So, this Miles from earth–1610 is gonna get chased by Miguel and the entire society because he doesn't want his canon event to happen?” You nod as he recalls your story. Not a story anymore as this Hobie hasn't experienced it yet. Of course you didn't tell him the entire plot, just in case it rips a hole in the space time continuum. “And a few people are gonna need a watch?”
You sniffle, skin so warm that you think you're boiling the water in your hands.
“Hmm, that checks out. Good thing I started making these watches then eh, love?” His mischievous smile makes your stomach do flips, you're sure he's doing it intentionally.
Pinching yourself under the covers, chugging down the cool water, you muster up enough courage to actually speak coherent words.
“H-how’d you get here?”
“Fucked up my coordinates, I think. I'm pretty sure I'm not in Kansas anymore.” Hobie chuckles at his own joke before switching his attention to your wide eyed self. “Wizard of oz, you do have that here, right?”
“Y-yes,” you say meekly, drowning in his blue? Grey? Or brown eyes? You have no idea as his borders and colors change every minute or so. Nevertheless, you're absolutely done for. You guess this is what it feels like to meet your favourite celebrity, or in this case, favourite character. “Reverse isekai.” You whisper, nerding out at the possibilities.
“A what?” He says in his accent and you tamp down the feeling of wanting to say it back jokingly.
You clear your throat, “nothing.”
Nodding, he inhales, eyes darting around your fangirl room full of fandom merch and of course spiderverse merch. He zeroes in on the body pillow peeking under the blanket. You immediately lift the covers up to hide it, accidentally spilling water all over yourself and the bed. *Great, very smooth, you thought.
His eyes are soft and full of endearment whilst he watches you frantically and desperately dry yourself off.
You hope that he doesn't tease, but you know him, know his character, so you anticipate what happens next.
“What was that then?” He pats your foot, head tilting to look at you. You feel your head swirl again, and you swear the water spilled all over you evaporates from the sheer heat from your skin.
“N-nothing, Hobie.” You sink into the mattress.
“Right,” He unfolds his vest, putting it back on. “It's been great, but I gotta go.”
“Oh,” you blink, “do you want me to take out the posters? I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable.”
He shakes his head with a smile. “Nah, not uncomfortable, I've been in worse dimensions. This ain't that bad really.”
“They're bootlegs if that makes it more okay.”
Hobie laughs and you practically melt from the sound.
“Bootleg, huh? That's a great name, project bootleg it is.” His smile blinds you for a second. You feel like you've ascended to heaven. “I have a tight schedule, being Spider-Man and all, but maybe I can visit again to get some insider knowledge of the future. Eh, Oracle?”
“S-sure,” you choke on the singular word. “It's a date— wait– no, I meant—”
Hobie chuckles, hands on his hips, bouncing on the balls of his boot clad feet, and border turning bright pink. For some reason, in all your clumsy and goofy self, you just made *the Spider-Man sheepish. Not just any Spider-Man, Hobie Brown, your absolute favourite out of all the thousands of Spider-people in the entire multiverse.
“It's a date then, no fainting next time yeah? I'll still catch you anyway, but it wouldn't be that fun if you're sleeping through it.”
“Okay.” You manage to say, heart loudly beating in your chest when his art style changes into love poems etched into his design.
He jumps inside the portal to hide the poems, winking at you before his body disappears into the void.
As the portal closes, you pass out once again, with a lopsided smile this time.
#request done#hobie brown x reader#spider punk x reader#the kr8tor's creations#hobie brown#atsv fanfiction#spider punk#atsv fanfic#atsv x reader#atsv hobie#fanfic#hobie brown x fem!reader#spider punk x fem!reader#hobie brown x you#spider punk x you#hobie x reader#hobie fluff#reverse isekai au
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miles away
— 1610!miles morales x gn!reader
summary: Long distance is hard — even more so when your boyfriend's mom is Rio Morales.
warnings: fluff, spanish that is hopefully right??? (pls feel free to correct if not)
word count: 2k
a/n: worst eboy known to man. another miles one-shot i thought of way too late at night lmao my boy miles is STRUGGLING somewhat edited
convention boy is online.
Miles was active: the cute boy you'd met at a Brooklyn science con last year and had been talking to for the past few months — your boyfriend? He might as well be, if it weren't for the absurd distance between you two. You almost missed the call icon with how fast you tapped it, buzzing with anticipation at the thought of speaking to him again; you hadn't talked properly in so long you almost thought he changed numbers.
Riiiiiing... Riiiiiing...
You stared at your own reflection, which was frowning back at you as the call rang for longer than usual. "Convention boy" (you'd definitely have to change that soon) was probably just busy, but your day had been infinitely boring, and you really wanted to talk to him. The both of you had chatted pretty much every day after you left Brooklyn, and despite the time difference, your calls went on for hours, making conversation about school, art, the science convention you were both forced to go to, how you almost got run over for the hundredth time — nothing and everything.
Miles probably knew more about you than your actual friends. You had jokes that nobody would be able to understand even if you tried explaining them, thousands pictures saved of each other, lots of random games you played together (that you always seemed to win somehow) and so many messages where you were flirting like you were in a middle school relationship; embarrassment was a foreign concept in your chat logs. The only thing you didn't have was... Miles himself.
He was in Brooklyn, probably the most exciting place right now. Maybe it was for the fact that Brooklyn had Spider-Man, or you were getting sick of living with your parents. Either way, you were glad you were getting out of here soon; your parents hadn't told you much, but you knew you were going to New York for school. That meant you'd be closer to Miles. Maybe you could even meet up — if Miles picked up, that is.
Beep, beep, beep!
The line went dead, and you were left staring at your own string of messages. They were read, but there was no response; he was ignoring you. Did he just... give up on you, or something? Was he no longer interested? Surely not... Should you try calling again?
He was offline now, and you flopped on your bed with a groan. It had been a whole week since you'd even texted — surely he'd let you know if something was up? It was late in New York right now, but that hadn't stopped him before. Maybe you'd try again tomorrow; he couldn't be available for you all the time.
That didn't stop you from being petty, though.
Missed voice call at 10:29PM
k
Read 10:31PM
You gritted your teeth when you saw that it had been read, stopping yourself from typing another text as you rolled on your side, throwing your phone out of sight. Maybe you should ghost him — okay, you were definitely just being petty. He could still have a reason for being radio silent for so long that you just didn't know about.
The lack of his voice or even just a "hey" made you miss him, though, and the pillow you held just made your arms feel more empty than usual. You were being a little unreasonable, but you hadn't exactly had the best week. Maybe you should leave his contact name as it was, because right now it seemed like he didn't want to be anything more than some kid you met at a convention. And you thought he was supposed to be your boyfriend—
Bzzzzzt! Bzzzzzt! You reached for your phone, a preview of your own face coming up on screen. "convention boy" — he was video calling you? That was weird; as much as you did video call, he was always reluctant to turn his camera on, and he never started them. He was always "on a run" or on low battery or something; maybe he wasn't today? You realised you'd been staring at your own face for too long, scrambling to fix yourself up a little and accept the call before you missed it.
Miles' face appeared on screen; he had his headphones on, brows drawn together and eyes fixed somewhere else for a moment, before he looked back at his phone. He gave you the tiniest wave and that wonky smile that always made your stomach flip.
"Hey," you muttered, hating the fact that you probably didn't sound as mad as you wanted to be. "What's up with you? You okay?"
Miles just nodded silently, giving you another smile that looked more like a grimace before glancing off to the side again. Weird.
"...Are you sure?" you asked again, raising an eyebrow at him. Whatever Miles was trying to convince you of was completely thrown out the window, his lips pressing together in debate before he mouthed something. You couldn't make it out.
"Uh, what?" You squinted at the screen, your brows drew together even more in confusion.
"I'm GROUNDED," he mouthed again, his own brows raising to emphasise what he was trying to say. You had to bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing.
"You're GROUNDED?" you mouthed back, trying to keep the teasing smile from spreading across your face.
It didn't help, Miles' eye twitching a little in embarrassment as he mouthed back "YES!"
"So you're like, grounded grounded?" you continued to mouth, making Miles narrow his eyes at you. "Like, actually grounded?"
He didn't seem to entertain your mockery, just crossing his arms at you and moving away on his chair. His phone appeared to be propped up on his desk, and you caught a glimpse of his textbooks in the corner.
You gave up, rolling your eyes. "Fine, fine, but you can't like, speak at all?"
He shook his head, before you heard his door creaking open. The camera immediately went black as he shoved his phone underneath the textbooks before you had a chance to say anything.
"Mijo, what are you still doing up?" You could recognise the voice as his mom's. Oh boy.
"Uh, just studyin', ma." You could tell he was lying by the way he was speaking, but you stayed silent despite his headphones, hoping his mother didn't catch on.
"You better be studying Español, then." Miles laughed awkwardly in response, but you couldn't tell if it was a joke or a threat. He'd only ever referred to you as a "friend" to his mom, so you turned off your camera just in case, hoping Miles had some God to pray to in the mean time.
"Yeah, uh, estoy estudiado—"
"Estudiando", she corrected, with rapid execution. You decided she was scarier in Spanish, and Miles seemed to as well, murmuring something in apology you couldn't catch.
You decided to look through your notifications while Miles was keeping his mom at bay to see that he actually had texted you back after you sent that very creative message.
sry im grounded
i dint mean 2 ingore u
dnt be mad pls :(
He must've resorted to calling you. At least your pettiness had worked.
"Estoy estudiando..." (I'm studying...) you heard Miles continue carefully. "And tired, so I'll go to bed soon."
"That light better be off, niño," (boy) she replied, and you heard the door faintly creak again. A few moments passed before you heard Miles' chair move and the door very quietly shutting all the way before he retrieved his phone and looked down at it from his lap. You had no idea what on Earth Miles had done to get grounded, but the way his mom spoke to him and the worried expression he was wearing right now didn't tell you anything good.
Miles looked back at his door for a second longer before picking up his phone, hesitantly preparing to say something. If it weren't for your own tension, you would've probably laughed at the way his face looked from that angle.
"Why's your camera off?" you heard him whisper, his worried expression still stuck in place.
"Do you really need to see my face?" You decided to tease anyway, despite his predicament, getting a sigh out of him.
"Ba—" He winced as he caught himself, eyes automatically trailing to his door again. Miles was lucky he couldn't see your amused grin. Baby? Babe? Hopefully not basta—
"Please?" he mouthed, almost looking hurt.
You turned your camera on so quickly it was almost embarrassing. You also prayed it was dark enough for him not to see the blush burning away at your cheeks; you just couldn't say no when he looked at you like that.
"Thank you," he nearly whispered. He let out another breath, shaking his head and smiling before mouthing something you couldn't make out.
"Huh?" you asked way too many times as he tried to mumble it a little louder. Both of you were too stubborn to end the call, so it was like playing charades, but with someone who really sucked at charades. He was pointing to his face, and then at you, and then trying to draw it out in the air.
"Just text me," you sighed, letting out a slight chuckle at his defeated expression.
you look cute
Your stomach flipped, cheeks tingling with warmth again as you stared at the text message for far too long, almost forgetting Miles was in the corner of your screen.
"...Thanks, you too," you mumbled out, hoping you didn't sound too weird over the call. "You sure you don't wanna just text...?"
na
wnt2 see ur face
n hear u speak
A part of you wanted to decline right now out of sheer self respect; you were so hot in the face by his... simple words that the darkness of your room definitely couldn't hide how flustered you were.
"Fine," you murmured, trying to keep your eyes on the screen as he watched you. "Can't you at least try to text properly, though?"
Miles frowned, and you could hear the gentle tap of his fingers on the screen as another text followed.
tryin 2 keep up w u gimme a break
The two of you shared a smile before you talked for a bit through this awkward system. It was good enough for now; at least Miles didn't have to watch his back so often.
ur cute
"You already said that..."
cutie
"Dude." Miles seemed to forget you could see him, sporting the biggest, stupidest smile on his face as he scrambled to keep texting you.
dont call me dude
my pride
thought we were passed that
past*
convention boy is typing...
hol on gank is txting me
"Gank...?"
romm mmate
You decided to let it be, watching Miles' cheeks puff with air as he switched over to text his "romm mmate". It was taking a little long and you didn't want to start missing him when he was right in front of you (albeit just on your screen) so you decided to talk anyway.
"Uh, there's something I wanted to tell you," you started, and Miles' eyes flicked upwards for a second, kind of like if you were actually sat opposite him.
"I'm moving states soon — for school." He raised an eyebrow, the tapping of his fingers slowing down a little. "New York. I don't know where exactly, but I should be getting an email soon? I was thinking maybe we could like... meet."
Miles stopped texting entirely, eyes wide as a grin spread across his face.
"After you get uh, un-grounded."
The smile faded just as fast. His eyes fell in defeat, lips twisting awkwardly as he got back to texting "Gank".
"I haven't checked my emails in a while actually, let me see..."
You scrolled through your email— well, it was a shared email (an email you often deleted a lot of school-related stuff from.) An email you'd missed ages ago caught your eye; you assumed it was from the school you were supposed to go to, the sender titled "Ms. Weber."
"We would like you welcome you with open arms to our academy..." The email bored you with its formalities and packing list and many many flourished attachments. You didn't read through it properly — most likely because you didn't want to face the fact that you might actually miss your home here.
What caught your attention, though, was the school name; it was in Brooklyn. Miles was in Brooklyn.
"Miles — the school's in Brooklyn, that's even better!" You couldn't hide your giddy smile, Miles' eyebrows raising in interest as so many thoughts swirled through your head. You could actually meet up again. Maybe you could even go on dates that weren't to do with science conventions. Maybe you could actually be a couple.
Bzzt! Miles' text appeared at the top of your screen.
what school is it?
"Uh..." You paused, unintentionally dramatically as you checked the name again. "Brooklyn Visions Academy."
"WHAT?!"
Miles' mouth went agape as you saw him roll back on his chair, bringing his face towards the camera to look at you almost hysterically. You were about to ask why he was so taken aback before—
"¡MILES! ¡¿CON QUIÉN ESTÁS HABLANDO TAN TARDE?!" (WHO ARE YOU TALKING TO THIS LATE?!)
Maybe your meet-up would have to wait a little longer.
🕸️🔭🎧
omg this was ... longer than expected anyways i could not get this idea out of my head haha i wrote it partly for myself and my friend chewy (who helped me w the summary ily i suck at em) and now its for u! hope u enjoyed (also if the spanish is weird pls correct i literally take spanish as a subject but i suck)
reblogs appreciated as always i get so happy when ppl reblog lol <3 catch the rest of my atsv stuff here!
#miles morales x you#miles morales x y/n#miles morales x reader#miles morales x gn reader#miles morales 1610#miles morales#1610 miles morales#1610 miles x reader#miles morales fluff#atsv x you#atsv fanfiction#across the spiderverse#vhstown#self indulgent fanfic#it is . approaching midnight right now!
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SCREENSAVER
❝I guess you're not feelin' me..
..Not feelin' the energy ❞
Ryomen Sukuna x Reader
🎮SUMMARY
Ryomen Sukuna, better recognized as ‘King of Curses’ is a growing name in the gaming industry. All though his most iconic aspect is his temper, it also tends to be his downfall outside entertainment purposes. After his last editor quit due to his ‘disrespectful ways’, he tries to handle everything by himself, soon learning that’s too much work he’s not willing to do. When he happens to stumble across your twitter, he decides to try his luck at hiring you. Let’s just hope you have the patience and durability to deal with him.
⍟ JJK influencers au ⍟ no curse au
⍟ updates every other day
🎮TWITTER PROFILES
ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩ group chats ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ ﮩ٨ـﮩ
👥 masterminds 😈
👥 👩❤️💋👩 + y/n
👥 work 🖕
chapters below cut
༶•┈┈┈┈┈┈┈⛧✩┈┈♛
▸ chapter 1:
▸ chapter 2:
▸ chapter 3:
…
#jjk#jjk x reader#sukuna x you#sukuna ryomen#ryomen sukuna#sukuna x reader#sukuna#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jujustu kaisen#jjk influencer au#jjk au#jjk x y/n#jjk smau#smau#jjk sukuna
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Hiii can I request Owen ( windbreaker) childhood friends to lovers fic please??? 🥹
Little Things [Owen Knight, Fluff]
Synopsis: What if he actually fell for the person that has been there, all along?
a/n 𖦹 finally! I never write for the childhood best friend to lovers prompt, but I'm trying my best. I hope you liked it. Not beta-ed (too long lmfao). Hope anon like it! :3
tw & cw ✰ cursing.
It's so Owen, calling late at night. Like he didn't give a fuck whether you are sleeping or not. A habit of his, exists since you and him were a teenager.
"What the fuck do you want in the fucking middle of the night, Mr. Knight?" You snapped right when you hit the accept button.
"Whoa, chill. I just arrived today and the first thing you did is to curse me? Poor me,"
"Ugh, fine. Tell me what happened," You sigh exasperatedly. Just, please.
"Shelly and Jay kissed in front of me. Like- I don't even know what to say. I'm shocked. Did Shelly really love that guy? I don't know what she sees in him, for real."
"And I don't know what's worth in you for Shelly to see. Oi, get over her. Why bother winning her heart back when you already know who has her heart? You just love hurting your own feelings, just say it at this point, you know that?"
"Your words burns like hell. I always tell you I have a promise with Shelly when I was a kid-"
"This promise, that promise," You cut his words. "That thing happened when you were a kid. It's nothing serious. Get over it. I'm tired of you venting about a girl who doesn't even think about you. I had class in 6. You're free to vent after that."
Just like that, you hang up your call.
—
He, started to wait for your reply. Normally, he checks his phone ever so slightly when he's bored or Shelly isn't around to bug. He often forgots where he puts the phone. Without him realizing things, he checks his phone more often. Waits for that messaging app icon to appear on his phone. Waiting for your name to pop up on his screen. He pulls his phone under his desk when he's in class, turned them on to check whether you replied or not. Will 100% turn them off again when there is no reply or chat from you, or will 100% reply at the same second you sent the text. An Exhibit.
A lot of things reminds him of you. In a lot of occasion, but he always tries to brush it off. He saw an ice cream that you said you wanna try, but never had the time. He tried the ice cream, just to taste whether it tastes good or not. So he can tell you later. (Or maybe ask you for an ice cream date, but best friends didn't do that.) Hey. At least if back in England they didn't have this exact flavor so you (and him) can try it out too, he had a reason to text you later. Two exhibits.
A lot of things reminds him of you. When both of you were kids, you eat ice creams a lot. Cold and flu were no stranger to you and Owen. But among all ice creams that you ever tried, Chocomint. It's a weird flavor, however. Tastes cool and minty but also sweet at the same time. He genuinely thought you're weird and your tastebuds is broken. Who the hell thought this was a delicious flavor? An atrocity made of different shit put together. All that thought end once he walked around stores in Seoul.
There's varieties of chocomint flavored food. Hey, it's not gonna hurt to try few, right? (Cue: He tried all of them. He didn't like it. He had the reason to annoy you by saying chocomint tastes like shit.)
He hates reading. It bore him a whole lot when teachers tell students to read. He hates reading in english, so do Korean. (He barely understands everything). One day, he walked past a bookstore, with a book on sale that day. He feels oddly familiar with the cover, even if he hates reading. He remembers that it's the book that you literally worshipped and said that it's so good he should consider read it too. Without any second thoughts, the book is on the counter and ready to be taken home. He finished the book in a week (pretty fast for a person who hates reading, lol), and silently weeping for the main character. He admits, it's a good book. Three exhibits.
He bikes a lot by himself. It's usually in the afternoon, around the time sun is starting to set. He likes that time a lot, the wind is warm but not too hot, and still feels breezy. After going around for an hour, he sat by the nearest river. Doing nothing, just watching until the sun fully set and it's time for him to go home.
When Owen and you were a kid, you liked to play outside. Doing lots of things. Biking, hide and seek, things. When the sun starts to set, you will sit wherever, as long as you can watch the sunset. A familiar feeling and habit, with him. Four exhibits.
Without him realizing, he's falling in love. All of the things you did together. All the time you were together as kids. All the time you grew up together, going to the same school. He fell in love with the you that has been there all along while he chase for Shelly.
—
Knock knock.
Someone knocked on the door. What kinds of people come so fuckin late at night? You opened the door.
Owen is standing. His eyes bore to the hallways, as if he avoids your gaze. He clears his throat awkwardly.
"Promise you're not gonna be awkward with me?" is the first sentence out of his mouth. He avoids your gaze, looking somewhere else. He took a deep breath before starting the next sentence. "It's you. It has always been you," He stares deeply into your eyes. He felt nervous, but he, for sure, is sure about his feelings. Right now. Is he scared? Maybe yes. He is. But he never felt so certain in life.
"Huh?" You hum confusedly. Who the hell isn't when your best friend come to your doorway and saying weird shit at late nights.
"I.. like you. Like, a lot,"
Your gaze softens after you're realizing he's trying to confess. Fuck. So all these years were not in vain? All of these years you watched him falling for Shelly, but it turned out he fell for you? Really? God must be joking.
"Me too," You break the silence between the two of you. "I like you, too. Since a long time ago," your breath hitched.
Owen loves you. He always do.
You're the reason he kept a random rock in his bedroom because it looks like a heart (and you're the one who gave it). The reason he wears a particular color because you told him it emphasizes his eye color. The reason he listens to a particular indie band, because you told him their lyrics is poetic as hell. (He hates bands, but who cares).
You're the reason for so many little things in his life, that he didn't think about much, but makes his life worth living. You.
"C-can we.. kiss?" For the first time in your life, you see Owen stuttered. His cheeks and ears heat up, painting the pale skin with faint tint of pink.
You chuckled softly, "Sure."
His long, pale hands cradled your head softly. As if it was the most frail thing. Without any rush, without any urge, he pulls himself closer to you. He tilts his head to the side slightly, adjusting his position before putting his lips on yours.
He settles his lips on yours, slowly and softly sucking on your lower lips. Owen tastes like the americano he drank before biking. Bitter and slightly sweet from the candy he finished before knocking on your door. You, on the other hand, tastes like mint. Tastes like the toothpaste you used before opening the door. The cool and minty scent lingers in your mouth.
The kiss is not good. It isn't like how people potrayed them in movies or novels—but it's perfect and special. Because you shared them with Owen.
Both of you pulled back after few seconds, looking at each other in love and adoration while the moon shines through. You smiled softly, patting his shoulder. "It's late. Go home, okay?"
Owen nods. "Sure do," He gives a light peck in your right cheek. "I'll text you when I got home. Good night." Owen ruffles your hair softly, as he puts on his helmet.
Owen smiles to himself all the way home. He is sure and certain about his own feelings this time, and he's right.
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## buy one, take me. — l. heeseung
synposis: with his best friend asking him for help because said best friend was scared he wasn't "boyfriend material" enough, heeseung looks for flower shops for his best friend's girlfriend. thankfully, jake knows someone from the university who has an aunt that owns a flower shop, you. now, heeseung messages you and shyly, but shamelessly asks if he can get any promos or discounts to which you shamelessly answered him, "buy one, take me". heeseung doesn't pass on this, of course. after all, you are pretty damn cute.
pairing: heeseung x fem!reader
content/genre: college au, slowburn, fluff, angst and crack, smau.
warning(s): swearing, of course. and as always, i'll put it in every chap if there's something you need to look out for.
note: yes, blod-talicized for slowburn because this is already planned out three years ago (but for another idol) anyway !! i'm excited to share this, my ass had been wanting to post this,,,,,, i already have the ending i just really need to do from part eleven up to,,,, that. so here you go. T_T okay, if i suddenly ghost again FLOOD ME MESSAGES/ASKS/IDC WHAT TO FINISH IT. TAGLIST CLOSE.
tags: r.asks: botm, botm updates, botm thoughts
sample texts. / playlist.
profiles. / profiles two. / profiles three.
ep 1. — the pilot.
ep 2. — the bf problem.
ep 3. — the help from jake.
ep 4. — the promo.
ep 5. — the benefit of jeongin.
ep 6. — the availing of the promo.
ep 7. — the two introverts.
ep 8. — the era of reporter sunoo.
ep 8.2. — the dog cafe.
ep 9. — the look. what look?
ep 10. — the panicking of heeseung.
ep. 11 — the time heeseung decides to trust y/n.
ep 12. — the real heey/n friendship era.
ep 13. — the star stamp.
ep 14. — the late night in the flower shop.
ep 15. — the biggest cliché.
ep 16. — the text-snapping of y/n.
ep 17. — the weekend of heeseung without y/n.
ep 18. — the two am ride.
ep 19. — the stupidity.
ep 20. — the time y/n blocked heeseung.
ep 21. — the whipped y/n.
ep 22. — the painful sight (according to riki).
ep 23. — the library.
ep 24. — the dog café pt 2.
ep 25. — the frustration of jungwon and sunoo.
ep 26. — the flowers and bambi sticker.
ep 27. — the pretty dense boy texting y/n.
ep 28. — the message from jay.
ep 29. — the look heey/n give.
ep 30. — the pet name.
ep 31. — the switch up.
ep 32. — the no more denial.
ep 33. — the time seungmin called y/n 'sweetie'.
ep 34. — the way y/n sensed it again.
ep 35. — the talk.
ep 36. — the halfway there.
ep 37. — the another lame line.
ep 38. — the time heeseung accidentally kissed y/n.
ep 39. — the drive-in.
ep 40. — the flour and eggs.
ep 41. — the favorite view.
ep 42. — the one time they used their main accs.
ep 43. — the origami flower bouquet.
ep 44. — the stressed gf.
ep 45. — the plane plan.
ep 46. — the time y/n isn't teasing with heeseung.
ep 47. — the time when everything is "fine".
ep 48. — the time heeseung forgot.
ep 49. — the fight.
ep 50. — the graduation.
ep 51. — the flower arrangement on the cashier.
ep 52. — the favorite flower of heeseung.
ep 53. — the fact that heeseung is still jealous.
ep 54. — the supposed three year anniversary of heey/n.
ep 55. — the bubble chat turned blue.
ep 56. — the dumb flowers.
ep 57. — the time y/n finally replied.
ep 58. — the rehearsal dinner.
ep 59. — the flowers weren't dumb after all.
ep 60. — the lifetime promo.
bonus. — the matching icons.
bonus 2. — the pettiness of flower and seungie.
bonus 3. — the one where heeseung thought y/n's leaving.
bonus 4. — the one with heeseung's doe eyes.
alternative ending. — the one when y/n almost stayed.
marriage discount; p. sunghoon [ fem!reader ]. — after endless of weddings that sunghoon attends to, he's been spending non-stop. so, upon hearing about a discount for married people even if it's just in the dry cleaners, sunghoon tells the employee that the girl, who happens to be you, walked in in the shop is his wife. even if he doesn't know you.
heeracha, 2022.
#OMG SECOND HEE SMAU RAWR LIKE I PROMISED WONT BE AS ANGSTY AS YMTM#Hiraya-M#enhypen imagines#enhypen reactions#enhypen scenarios#enhypen fluff#enhypen smau#enhypen social au#enhypen social media au#enhypen socmed au#heeseung imagines#heeseung scenarios#heeseung reactions#heeseung fluff#heeseung au#heeseung social media au#heeseung x reader#enhypen x reader
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MC showing Grimmy videogames and maybe playing co-op with him?
Yes yess!! Whoo, finall some requests... thank you for your request my friend!
Grim x MC
(I created this meme lol) ^
MC is Gender neutral, You/yours pronouns.
MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS! GRIM'S REAL NAME IS USED IN THIS FIC.
☆☆☆☆♡♡♡♡☆☆☆☆♡♡♡♡☆☆☆☆
Your controller clicks aggressively as you move your joysticks and press the buttons, as you play your competitive game. You are heavily focused, trying your best to win, but unfortunately, by the end of the round... your opponents got a knockout. You sigh in dissapointment.
"Sunshine... what are you doing?" you hear a familiar voice and the soft creak of your door. In comes the cutest and most stubborn man you've ever known. None other than Casper, your Grim Reaper boyfriend.
"Just playin a video game, why?" You ask him, raising your eyebrow.
"Video game... This is another mortal custom, right..?" He questions, tilting his head in curiousity.
"...A custom?" You look at him, you chuckle slightly. "isn't everything I do just another mortal custom to you?"
His eyes narrow, he pouts. Unamuzed, clearly. He then sighs.
"I have done research on these... 'video games.' They're meant to be fun, right? You don't look like you're having fun." he says, with that little, cute, iconic pout upon his facial features.
"Ah... Hahah, Its just because I lost a game." You explain, holding the controller in your hand. "Not a big deal."
He looks you up and down, then at the screen, which still displayed the game over menu, with "DEFEAT" in big bold letters in the corner of the screen.
"May I try these video games, sunshine? Maybe not this one, but I'd like to... play with you." He asks, as he sits down beside you.
"Oh, sure! I got a game you might like." You smiled at him, standing up and switching out the game disk. You put in 'Minecraft'. You also handed him a controller. He looks at the controller like its some kind of alien technology.
"What? You don't know how a controller works?" You ask him.
"No. It took me a while to even work a computer... let alone program that chat room..." He crosses his arms.
"Well, no shit. Programming takes a ton of time." You replied, as you booted up the game. "I'll show ya how it works, just watch me!" you wink at him, he blushes at that.
After a while, Casper seems to get the idea of the controls and how to play. He even builds a nice dirt house for you and puts your Minecraft beds together. How romantic of him..
"...Sunshine." he begins, looking down at the controller.
"Hm?" you hum in curiousity.
"May we... play together more often? I find it.... fun... playing with you." he answers, turning his head away from you, perhaps to hide his very noticeable blush. You chuckle softly, which confuses him slightly.
"Of course we can! I'd love to play with you more often, Casper.~" you smile, giving him a little kiss on his cheek. He melts instantly, so much so, he's like a snowball in the summer. The two of you then continue playing until nightfall, playing different games each time, you always showed him the ropes, and he got used to it right away. Eventually, though... you fall asleep. Casper doing the same on your shoulder.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tags: @nicotheghoul, @cozynspookyvibes
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whose phone is that, anyway? character signature colours and yoshizawa's phone
There is a perennial debate over what's going on with Yoshizawa's phone. Isn't it Kasumi's phone that she's dragging around for reasons? What's even wrong with it, and why?
I have no opinion on the last two questions (other than that her difficulty communicating likely symbolises the things she's hiding from herself and others.) But I do think we can put that first question, of ownership, to bed.
First let's take a quick look at...
character colour coding
Most playable characters in P5 are assigned a colour, which is used more-or-less consistently for various things. For instance, their chat icons use them:
Their gloves use them. Makoto is the exception here with white gloves (perhaps because she uses fist weapons, so her gloves are always hidden?):
More to the point? Their phones are all colour coded:
Clockwise from the top: Ryuji (gold), Ann (hot pink), Yusuke (pale blue), Haru (purple), Futaba (green) and Makoto (dark blue).
royal trio: joker
The Royal Trio throw this nice little arrangement for an absolute loop.
First off, let's take a look at Joker. Silver phone (you may have observed it). No chat icon that we ever see to my knowledge, though it seems highly unlikely that he wouldn't have a red one. And indeed, his gloves are red. (as you may also have observed)
royal trio: akechi
Our resident Gemini, of course, stomps in with his steel-capped kicker boots and does everything twice. He's got two pairs of gloves, which match his apparent alignment (white or black, with his "day gloves" being black):
And his phone? Well, it's red (though the anime has it as dark grey, because, again, never not extra). Because, to this day, he's still playing hero—with the emphasis by now very much on "playing"—and part of him still wants to be the hero....
So Joker and Akechi have a reverse colour scheme going on with their phones: Joker has the silver/white/colourless phone that you might expect Akechi to have, and Akechi has the red one you'd expect Joker to have. Or rather, Joker has the "bad guy" phone while Akechi has the "good guy" phone, because he's a fucking liar and because each of them, to a greater or lesser extent, is walking that line between hero and villain.
As for his chat icon, it was grey in vanilla [source], while in Royal it was changed to brown. So: two sets of gloves, two chat icons, two phones (if we count the anime). Complicated.
what about yoshizawa?
Just like Joker and Akechi, Yoshizawa is too cool to be bound by any stupid dress code... pretty much. Her outfit is essentially girl Joker, and so her gloves are red, like his. Her chat icon is a deep purply-pink—more hot pink than Ann's, in fact, whose colour hot pink is!
It's possible her icon is meant to be red, but it's been shifted to purply-pink because a red icon on a red background would look bad.
But there are a couple of other things we can look at. And they tell us it's incredibly likely that the malfunctioning phone Yoshizawa carries through the game is not Kasumi's, but her own.
Remember that Yoshizawa's codename, Violet, is taken from her true given name Sumire—which means "violet". In Maruki's Palace, there's a cinematic of her with the real Kasumi during their accident, where both girls have umbrellas. Kasumi's is yellow—but Sumire's?
It's violet. And what colour is Yoshizawa's phone, when she pulls it out on 10/3, still believing that she's Kasumi?
It's violet. Violet for her true name, violet for her codename. Violet like the umbrella she carried when Kasumi died. This is clearly Sumire's phone, not Kasumi's.
Why is it broken? Still damaged in the accident, maybe?—Sumire is knocked flying. Unconsciously sabotaged? Space pixies? Who knows.
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MCYT Eras Concept
For a long time, I've thought of MCYT as divided into different eras. I've finally decided to refine the idea and write it out. I feel it's a good way to define things, rather than just "old school" and "modern", as the bar for each of those have shifted drastically over time. Please do note that a lot of how I describe these eras is mostly from my own perspective, but I do think the overall divisions work well for MCYT as a whole!
Era 1 - The "OG" Era (2009 - 2011)
The beginning of Minecraft and MCYT. Much content at this point was traditional lets plays, simple tutorials and showing off early innovations in redstone.
Era 2 - The "Classic" Era (2012 - 2014)
This era encompasses what is often considered the peak of many iconic "old school" groups and series. Team Crafted, Mindcrack, the various Yogscast Tekkit series, and many, many more.
It's difficult to describe everything that made up the classic era in a succinct manner. It was the true rise of SMPs, Adventure Maps, Minecraft Animations, Parodies, Mod Reviews, MCRP, and so, so much more. Minecraft was unavoidable on YouTube back then.
Era 3 - The "Gap" Era (2015 - 2017)
The "gap" era is named for the lull in MCYT's popularity. In this period of time, it was seen more as a niche, compared to the massive popularity it saw before and after.
This era saw the "death", or at least massive dips in popularity to many formerly wildly popular groups and ccs, as viewers interests changed and moved onto other things.
Many series came and went during this era, but weren't properly appreciated until after their time.
Era 4 - The "Revival" Era (2018 - 2019)
This era, due to a combination of many factors, was MCYT's return to mainstream. Many people returned to both singleplayer series and servers. Episodic SMPs old and new such as Hermitcraft and Truly Bedrock, began experimenting more with the lines between gameplay, story and improv.
This era also saw the rise of streaming based series, such as SMPLive, SMPEarth, and Minecraft Monday.
Era 5 - The "Lockdown" Era (2020 - 2022)
Much of this era is defined by the new heights reached during covid lockdowns. This era kicked dozens if not hundreds of the careers of those who grew up watching MCYT during the OG and Classic eras.
This era is admittedly very defined by the DSMP, rocketing MCYT and specifically MCRP into a level of popularity unseen before. Second, and as just as important to this era is MCC, bringing together so many personalities from all over the MCYT sphere who otherwise would likely have never interacted on a monthly basis.
A massive innovation in this era was also the introduction of the Simple Voice Chat mod to many servers, now a staple of most multiplayer content.
Era 6 - The Current Era (2023 - Present)
Unnamed as of yet, as it is still ongoing, the current era of MCYT has so far been defined by not only the continued rise of many smaller, younger MCYTs. But largely, and undoubtedly, by the QSMP.
Not only has it redefined what an SMP can be through its gameplay. It has brought the international MCYT community is closer together now than ever, crossing language and cultural barriers previously rarely touched.
---
This concept of mine isn't fully solidified, and is up to be more refined. I would love to hear y'all's thoughts and feedback about these divisions and the idea overall!
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Australian Luffy
Just chatting with @sordidmusings and preparing her for her trip down-under has my brain rotting with what ifs, specifically:
What if Luffy was Australian?
And so, here he is. Monkey D "Loz" Luffy.
TW: bad Photoshop.
He abbreviates everything.
A Bogan with a heart of gold.
Everyone gets a nickname, all said with a nasally crackle in his accent.
When he walks into a venue, it automatically pops off with some proper Hilltop Hoods bangers:
Monkey D Loz is a right mate. Ready to help a guy out at the drop of his corkstring-hat (keeps the mozzies away).
Peak cuisine for Loz is a Bunnings Snag on a barbie, topped with tomato sauce - better yet if he adds yeastie Vegemite spread, burnt onions and mustard.
He's a Cottie's Cordial kid. Red is his favourite. What does it taste like? It tastes like 'Red.'
"Au Naur" - More HC and dialogue below the cut:
Inkeeper: "I'm sorry, all the rooms have been taken. I only have a small self-contained ensuite outside."
Loz: "What? Like a granny flat?"
Zeff: "You're goin' to settle your debt one way or another, chore boy."
Loz: "C'mon, Big Zeff. Sanga's a mate. He'll give us mates rates."
Small child: "Thank you so much for saving us, Monkey D Luffy."
Loz: "Hey, no dramas."
Nami: "Luffy, grab the helm. We've got to turn the ship around!"
Loz: "What Nazza? You wanna chuck a yewy?"
Zoro: "Oi, Luffy. Boa's askin' boucha."
Loz: "Hold up, Zozza. Gotta chuck me thongs on"
These are the Aussie abbreviations for a few characters' names:
Roronoa Zoro: Zozza
Blackleg Sanji: Sanga (play on words, this is what we call a sandwich).
Usopp: Soppa
Nami: Nazza
Nico Robin: Robbie
Tony Tony Chopper: Chop-Chop (after chopper reed: an Aussie criminal icon)
Franky: Frangsta
Brook: Brookie
Trafalgar D Water-Law: Trazza
Portgas D Ace: Azzo
Sabo: Sabsta
Helmeppo: Meppaz
Koby: Kozzy
Red-Hair Shanks: Shazza
Dracule Mihawk: Hawko
Buggy D Clown: Bugsta
Sir Crocodile: Croco
Benn Beckman: Bazza
My personal favourites:
Donquixote Doflamingo & Donquixote Rosinante: Mingas and Nunce
@since-im-already-here, Sanga's defo got Ciggy butt brain. He's always bummin' ya lighters. He smokes Winnie-Blues and drinks goon.
Notes: Yes, can confirm. These are real things. @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @feral-artistry @cinnbar-bun @carrotsunshine @vespidphoenix @sexc-snail I thought you'd all appreciate some unhinged Aussie thoughts and slang from "Monkey D Loz"
#one piece#opla#one piece live action#monkey d luffy#aussie luffy#monkey d loz#aussie strawhats#op drabble#aussie slang#bad photoshop#op hcs#luffy hc#opla fic#zoro#sanji#nami#luffy#snail is having fun#who let this snail out?#Snail is Australian#just fun#Spotify#SoundCloud
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ROUND 2 MATCH 60
Saeran propaganda:
"He's a very gentle young man born into miserable circumstances who learns what freedom and autonomy mean to him after far too long of being everyone else's punching bag. He goes from desperation, subservience, and self-loathing to blind rage to become the biggest threat in the room, all in the name of self-preservation in an environment that wants to destroy him. But with a support system that challenges his programmed thought processes, he learns to see past the lies and coercion and begins his recovery journey with his beloved partner and dear twin brother. He loves flowers and knows most of their meanings (he WILL gift bouquets of them to share those captivating messages), he's an excellent chef, and he is an entirely devoted partner who sees his beloved MC as the light that helped guide him onto his path to recovery. He genuinely loves his MC in a way that the other characters of Mystic Messenger suggest transcends the notion of romance. He's ethereal; he's on a different plane of love. He is the very essence of love. He will risk his all... risk everything in the name of love."
Nakedtoaster propaganda:
“First off we love he/they icons. He's very silly but he's also extremely smart and sweet. They care about their friends deeply and they're always conscious of when a joke is going too far and needs to stop. He's so sweet and cute and it's so impossibly easy to make them blush theyre truly a dork. Also did you know if you create a ffxiv account you can play up to level 70 for free?!”
“A tall gentle giant that somehow thrives at being both silly goofy AND incredibly brilliant. They're always #downtoclown and they have a good sense of humor but he's also attentive, caring and kind, likes to spend quality time chatting and having some deep conversation (if he thinks something upsets, he always checks in to make sure you're doing okay). They coded a complex text-based CRPG that responds in real time to player input, and eventually they got their own company. They're CEO and care about their company and employees, so much that he's really conflicted about selling the organization, because it feels like it's his baby (his words). He balances work, gaming and socialization in the server. In their route, they get adorably flustered but make sure to let the player know that they're into it and absolutely reciprocate, and after their ending (which is very emotionally charged and high stakes scenario) they literally go "Fuck it" and profess love to the player even though they haven't known each other for long, because they mutually relate and empathize with each other's struggles (player character also is in a tense work environment and trying to manage expectations). He has gorgeous pink hair that he lets the player braid, he won't lose any opportunity to promote the critically acclaimed MMORPG FFXIV, he's the sweetest cutest person, and perhaps most importantly, he looks great in cat ears headband <3”
#Either way I lose </3#saeran choi#unknown mystic messenger#ray mystic messenger#Mystic Messenger#Mysme#Nakedtoaster#nakedtoaster blooming panic#blooming panic#Bloomic#Round 2#MDDC 2
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