💖 onlyfans in bio 💖

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though once yideun throws the straw on the table, chan finally catches up. kind of. “ah– you’re right! climate change is so important! it’s happening everyday!” he replies, almost choking on his words at first from how out of the blue it all is. but well, though chan might not be someone in drama or theater, but he does know his dramatics. “and here i am! in air conditioning! using straws!”

“i am part of the problem!” he stands up abruptly. his date looking at them both with wide eyes as chan reaches out and grabs hold of yideun’s wrist. “come on, kiddo! we gotta get back to it, and pronto!”

chan’s a little slow on the uptake, but he catches up and that’s all that matters. yideun steels his expression, only nodding his head gravely when chan finally musters up the nerve to speak—something something climate change. 

it’s legit though. climate change is for reals happening and yideun spites the human race every day for it. he’d chuck his amazon rainforest killing iphone in the trash if the act wasn’t performative because society demands he’s accessible. fucking stupid, if anyone asks him. he can’t wait to retire to an idyllic and isolated life in the mountainside as soon as he drops out of university. 

oh, wait. what was happening? oh, right—operation save chan hyung’s ass.

“you’re party of the problem too,” he adds, pointing at the girl (no offense to the girl, but plastic straws in this day and age? clearly she doesn’t watch enough youtube to give in to the influencers who think metal straws are not only environmentally conscious but also super sexy, which simply isn’t what straws are made to be—sexy, that is), proceeding with an ‘i’ve got my eyes on you’ gesture before chan’s yanking him out of the cafe. “THINK ABOUT THE FUCKING TURTLES,” he manages, before he’s officially not within appropriately audible proximity.

and now they’re outside and probably trying to get away from the cafe, where the poor girl’s wondering what sort of deep, irreversible harm she’s inflicted on the environment (answer? many).

( SMS ➝ the real slim shady )

( ✉ ) ok q ( ✉ ) hypothetically if u were a young stud in the prime of ur life (LOL) and were juggling the romantic interests of (2) hot similarly young studs  ( ✉ ) and those (2) hot young studs discovered u were two timing them thru some whacky hijinks and a TRULY abysmal breakdown of the proper channels of communication on ur part ( ✉ ) and to take revenge on u for being an absolute fucking scumbag those (2) hot young studs in question decided to plot revenge and in the process became friends and made out like a few times?? ( ✉ ) how would u react ( ✉ ) upon discovering that they were like, together, banging, vibing ( ✉ ) what would u FEEL (if u were capable of feelings)

sms, hot 4 slenderman 

➝ FUCK U REPLACE MY RAMEN FIRST 

(five minutes later)

JIAE

-

“do you think i have what it takes to start an onlyfans? like if i just post some naked pictures and stuff.” she looks down at her body, then back at her phone. “i took some nudes for practice. do you want to see? can you help me pick one?” jiae leans toward him as if she’s about to show him her naked pictures, which 1. she doesn’t even have any, and 2. she wouldn’t show him even if she did. she just likes to see his reactions.

lunch hour’s always a fucking mess, and yideun thinks it’s ridiculous that it’s the twenty-first century and he can’t teleport or get sustenance through breathing. he’s lazy, first of all, and second of all, trying to navigate the campus when everyone’s bustling about is the biggest pain in the ass. 

he’s usually quick about it—grab some food when he has to and hightail it the fuck out of the cafeteria, but today, he manages to spot a familiar face he doesn’t hate. without much hesitation, yideun approaches jiae’s table, waits for the buffer period where she acknowledges his presence, and then promptly sits down. reaching across to grab her cup of coffee, he takes an idle sip—a small one—and scowls.

“dude, this tastes like shit,” yideun says, in lieu of any proper greeting. “probably cost half your arm too. or a whole arm and a leg. wouldn’t be surprised.” 

jiae’s kind of a breath of fresh air in the sea of seongnam, and while he’s not the type to treat people as kindly as he could, jiae’s personality complements his well—she can receive just about the worst of his temperament while returning it tenfold. it’s a feat in itself. 

she’s also low-key insane, exhibit 287387487387132 being the inquiry that follows.

yideun narrows his eyes, holding a hand up to stop her from leaning in too closely. he knows better than to think she’s actually expecting any sort of feedback; knows better than to think that jiae hasn’t got her hands full with charming tinder dates out of their savings. “first of all, gross,” he says, “and second of all, everyone knows you have to start with feet pics to make a profit. what are you, an amateur? use your head.” 

he clicks his tongue and shakes his head, like he’s sincerely disappointed in her lack of foresight (he’s kidding—doesn’t know shit about onlyfans, but does know feet pics are alarmingly lucrative these days). 

current mood: got a really sexy bubble tea from gongcha but forgot to get the adjacent straw to slurp up the tapioca pearls. not literally, though he’d kill to have some bubble tea right this second, but figuratively—emotionally, that’s where he’s at.

because it’s really hard to put to words otherwise how one should feel when they’re dropping by the big bad business building to do a professor a favor, only to be ACCUSED (accurately) by another professor of some humdrum accounting course for ALLEGEDLY (definitively) drawing random shapes and other nature motifs on the [stock photo of man and woman in suits looking dramatically into the camera, seongnam university blurred in the background; the title of the periodical reads ‘BUSINESS WEEK’ and the featured models are seongnam business students] magazines scattered around the lobby.

it’s actually only one magazine, and it hadn’t been intentional or malicious. if anything, yideun had been absentmindedly doodling before realizing he was essentially vandalizing something. and by the time he’d come back to the lobby from running his errand, the crime had been discovered. 

current mood: uuuuuuuuuuggggghhhhhh fuck.

the professor’s been interrogating him for a solid five minutes, probably, and yideun’s starting to feel his patience run thin. he’d like to think he’s pretty acquiescent to most bodies of authority, but there’s not much to be done when even a simple apology doesn’t seem to do the trick.

so with a heave, yideun lets out a long sigh that cuts straight through the professor’s tirade. “it’s not even that bad,” he says, tone flat. he jabs a finger at the magazine page. “i drew a tree. some flowers? deeply sorry.” 

yideun glances around, pinpoints @sgnbin, and decides he isn’t going down without a fight.

every two weeks, they run dangerously low on ramen—which is singlehandedly the sustenance that gets  him (and probably joowon, for that matter) through the hell that is every single day. having to refill their dorm’s stash, however, always seems to come down to a bitter battle of wits, strength, and courage (like rock-paper-scissors, but shut up). today, yideun’s the one dragging his feet to the convenience store. 

it’s kind of nice to get a breath of fresh air, to be honest, and he hadn’t even realized how long it’d been since he took a normal walk. granted, the sacrifice had resulted in his first completed painting in a long while, and yideun doesn’t even hate it (yet), which is a milestone in it of itself. so, he’s not in the worst mood as he peruses the offerings, grabbing a bag for joowon and a bag of vegetarian noodles for himself. 

unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. it’s only at the register as the cashier is ringing up a variety of other shit yideun needed (and was also requested to bring, or threatened into adding to his notes app, because that is simply how he and joowon operate) that he realizes he left his wallet at the dorm.

he kind of feels like a kid trapped at the grocery store checkout line while mom’s run back to grab a couple of things. the cashier’s ringing shit up, and he—a mere child (in the hypothetical)—is paralyzed with fear because he doesn’t understand what it means to have money yet that isn’t 2,000 won to spend on milk after school.

thankfully, he spots @sgnseungsik out of the corner of his eye and immediately sprints to grab the older by the arm, zero explanation, and dragging him to the counter right as the cashier announces his total.

baskin robbins is a family-friendly establishment. thirty-one flavors! super exciting! so pink! so cool! so retro! so cute! 

yideun crosses his arms against his chest and leans back against his very uncomfortable plastic chair, narrowing his eyes into daggers at @sejunsgn, who’s sitting across the table much too blissfully unaware for yideun’s tastes. on most days that end in y, yideun doesn’t belong in family-friendly establishments. 

he’s not good with making friends and sometimes it just happens (usually against his will) but sometimes it really just fucking happens and he can’t do anything about it, only has to watch his life flash before his eyes because hurricane sejun is here and he isn’t here to play. 

all to say yideun is bitter.

“crocodile tears,” he announces, shaking his head, tapping his foot impatiently. the ice cream in front of them—a dent (okay, not really) in yideun’s wallet because he felt compelled to apologize for hurting sejun’s feelings—untouched. “you fucking con artist,” he grumbles.

it’s not even that he doesn’t really want to be friends with sejun. he doesn’t mind, at the end of the day, but something about the series of events that have led them to this exact moment makes yideun feel like he needs to complain about it. for posterity. for Emotional Release as his therapist would say. for Cinematic Impact. 

the glare eases up and yideun slumps against his seat, reaching an arm out to jab a plastic spoon into the ice cream. he leaves it there. it’s poetic. 

“don’t you have better things to do,” he states, rather than inquires. “or better people to pester into being your friend.” 

yideun stares at sejun, scrutinizes him, and then frowns. some people are seriously just good-looking and friendly? for no fucking reason? don’t people have to pick their battles?

the thing is, while he knows @sgnwooseok and for all intents and purposes wholly and unequivocally tolerates him (which is really high praise, seriously), he doesn’t actually hang out with him much. yideun doesn’t hang out with anyone much if he has anything to say about it, but wooseok in particular seems especially respectful of how intent yideun is on doing 100% his own thing 100% of the time. 

that being said, wooseok is a “””””friend””””” and also seungwoo’s—who is also a “””””””””friend”””””””””—boyfriend, so his integration into yideun’s life is kind of seamless, easy, and doesn’t leave much room for yideun to protest. 

so, yeah, sometimes they hang out. and most times the hangouts are at the campus cafe for ten minutes before yideun realizes he’s supposed to be in class (haha “realizes”), but sometimes they’re not on campus—sometimes they’re in the most nature-y of places that one could possibly find in seoul’s sprawling urban metropolis. sometimes a friendship is just two boys at the base of ansan, one standing on the ground and the other trapped up—yes, up—a fucking tree because he tried to help a very capable cat down.

“it’s fine,” yideun says, and it is. the breeze is really great from up where he is. he probably can’t jump down without spraining an ankle or two, sure, but maybe he can take the day off from crippling pessimism to try to look for the bright side. “monkeys are in trees all the time. humans are basically monkeys. darwinism. natural selection. evolution. science.” 

this is a fucking disaster. 

yideun looks down at wooseok, who is probably rightfully concerned. the cat, too, is now in wooseok’s arms—and at least yideun has that single positive to this otherwise terrible day. one tree for hwang yideun, one safe cat for mankind or whatever. 

LOVE !

sms, cho hyunjoo the goat 

➝ why do i have to say it ➝ dont make me fucking say it  ➝ .................. ➝ cant i just say thx for bein a pal my dude and move on  ➝ ............................  ➝ fine jackass ➝ i “c*re” about u a slightly more than normal amount

REVEAL ME ! 

sms, cho hyunjoo the goat

➝ ok i’ll “mind my own business” if u “mind ur own business” when i drag ur ass across the ground???? dont talk shit abt hyunjoo ever again  ➝ WAIT FUCK ➝ NOOOOOOOOOOOOO NOT U ➝ I DONT CARE ABOUT U FUCK OFF 

DRUNK !

sms, cho hyunjoo the goat

➝ my theem sogn lol ➝ [ link ]

MAD !

sms, cho hyunjoo the goat

➝ NO FUCK U  ➝ U RLY SIDED WITH JOOWON  ➝ INF RONT OF MY FUCKIN SALAD  ➝ WHO ARE U AGAIN????? IDK LOL BYE

DRAFT !

sms, cho hyunjoo the goat

WHOOPS !

sms, son junhyung

for what it’s worth, yideun’s actually kind of diplomatic about most things. like, material attachment to worldly things is super 2019 in his opinion, and if someone’s going to borrow his favorite mechanical pencil and forget to return it, he’ll remember, yeah, but he won’t demand it back or tack on interest to some invisible debt a la new world (2013). 

that being said, he kind of is really attached to his bag. it wasn’t expensive, by any means, and it’s not some fancy brand or one-of-a-kind. it just—y’know—has the perfect amount of pockets, doesn’t jangle too loudly or too quietly when he’s walking around campus with his fifty-thousand keychains, and it’s just big enough to carry all of his shit without making it look like he’s into the wild-ing his campus experience.

so, yeah. he’s kind of pissed that someone had the fucking nerve to throw up in it. and he gets it, in retrospect. there weren’t many other options except for, haha, the wide open street maybe or the trash can that was a couple feet away, last night. and yideun doesn’t want to dwell on this, but he does want an apology (and maybe a dry cleaning tab covered or something, but seriously—apology first).

he doesn’t really know the perpetrator’s name, only his face and where his dorm is because yideun had very painfully escorted him back. maybe he should also demand reparations for the muscle ache he has in his neck from trying to lug this dude back to his dorm, while he’s at it. yideun will have to play it by ear. 

lurking outside gong hall doesn’t sound foolproof, but then he spots him  (@sgntaejoo) and immediately makes a beeline straight for him, shoving the evidence (in a recyclable paper bag because THE ENVIRONMENT IS ON FIRE IN A BAD WAY) against taejoo’s chest. 

he’s tired.

in the metaphysical sense (something something emotional repression since the tender age of high school or something) and the literal, physical, very-fucking-right-this-second sense (went to sleep at some odd hour after having a text war with a stranger—and he now has approximately fifty photos of his middle finger in various different places in his dorm room to show for it). 

so, yeah, he’s tired. as fuck.

and while he’d love to sleep a couple of extra hours before slamming his head repeatedly against an empty canvas in a mandatory studio class later today, he’s unfortunately on the edge of failing this gen. ed. class, and after swearing to his sister that he’d haul ass and at least pass this year before thinking seriously about dropping out—well. nap forgotten, yideun’s in class and sullen about it. 

not to mention the professor’s talking about some sort of group project and yideun has definitively not learned a single thing about korean history over the course of the semester. he knows the basics (king sejong was the og, mad respect) but without a good partner, he’ll probably bomb. and while he doesn’t know much about @sgnhyunjae or his grasp on the ancients, yideun forces himself to be optimistic.

retrieving his phone from hyunjae after prodding the other to punch in his number so they have some sort of direct contact, yideun taps out a single message (it’s hwang yideun) and presses send—

only for the message to float a conversation from last night (this morning??) to the top instead of starting a new one.

a conversation filled with way too many pictures of middle fingers. 

     - 

     he frowns at his friend at what he says, though subin knows better now than to take what yideun says to heart. maybe a little while ago he would’ve still believed him, but he’s older and wiser now, having learned enough from the one (1) Fried Chicken Incident a little while ago that he’s confident about his ‘hyung powers’ working even on this hyung. 

     “i have friends!” he says too quickly, defensively even though he knows yideun is (probably) teasing him, grinning afterwards. “see? one’s right here,” he comments, pointing his finger right at the older, poking him in the process. “let’s get our food and eat~”

leave it to subin to get excited over a fried egg. it’s kind of endearing and maybe yideun does have a soft spot for him, but he’ll admit it when he dies, probably. not because he derives a particular sort of joy from convincing everyone around him that he hates them, but things always get troublesome when people know too much about him. 

when subin pokes him, yideun can’t help but stare, almost flabbergasted. seriously? the nerve? a fucking freshman being this cute in front of him? yideun frowns. some people are forces of nature in a way he’ll never understand. “let’s sit on opposite sides of the cafeteria,” he says, clearly joking as he walks right past subin to place their orders and pay (for both, because he’s a sucker but shut the fuck up).  

while waiting for their food, yideun crosses his arms and looks pointedly at subin. 

it’s kind of easy to talk to any of their hyungs because yideun has zero filter and zero respect, but sometimes he has to grapple with what to talk about with subin. not because he’s uncomfortable around subin, but he realizes belatedly that he’s kind of cautious around him. like he might taint this weird aura of sunshine that subin radiates by saying something along the lines of carpe diem let’s overthrow the fuckin’ government! 

and he’s about to say just that, when he sees their number flash above the pick-up station. he makes a beeline straight for it, picking out their trays from a line. staring at the soup, yideun realizes belatedly that he can’t eat half of it—blinded by his desire to burn his tongue off, he had to get something laden with beef. god, is his brain working properly today? he grabs subin’s tray too on second thought, marching right back toward the younger boy and pushing it into his hands. there’s a suspicious bowl of a bright red sauce the cafeteria lady’s dished out for him at request of something so spicy i cry. at the very least, yideun has this going for him. 

MAD / ANGRY !

sms, yooa

HAPPY / EXCITED !

sms, jo danbi 

➝ heh ➝ in a good mood  ➝ bc i saw my roommate roll off his bed LMAOOOOOO 

TIRED / SLEEPY !

sms, jo danbi

➝ itits 4am what thfuck ➝ lol tits ➝ idk ➝ wuold easi ily choose 5 yr old danib oevr 5 danbis  ➝ Ur a fucking handful

SCARED / WORRIED !

sms, jo danbi 

-

yeah, joowon would rather be vored by slenderman than worry about this.

“why do you get to be the human sacrifice?” joowon grouses, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “who are we sacrificing to? is this like a naked sacrifice or a clothes on thing? why would slenderman want a naked sacrifice?” yideun’s right, though. this blows. still, he half-expects yideun to have all the answers to the problems of the universe or something. he expects yideun to fix this problem, mostly because he doesn’t want to be the responsible one in this scenario. what comes out of yideun’s mouth isn’t… fixing anything. it’s just a lot of yelling.

and slenderman.

“sure, get slenderman to just stop by the gift shop and pick up a flashlight to bail us out.” although, for the lack of a better idea—if you can’t beat ‘em (and joowon can’t think of a more productive solution to their problem), join ‘em. cupping his hand around his mouth, he yells, “SLENDERMAN, WHAT THE FUCK IS UP? WE’RE JUST TWO DUDES, THREE FEET APART, WITH DELICIOUS FLESH—”

he breaks off as a loud noise, almost a growl, cuts through the night. “wait what the fuck was that—”

well, okay, he wouldn’t recommend getting lost in the wilderness at ass o’clock to anyone, but if that was on the itinerary, he’d probably suggest Getting Lost in the Wilderness at Ass O’Clock with a Buddy. unfortunately for him, his buddy is joowon, who seems to be just as unequipped and ill-prepared for wilderness survival as yideun is. which makes sense considering they’re collectively one giant hermit crab. 

they’re probably not doing anything productive by literally yelling into the void and probably attracting the attention of whatever carnivorous beasts dwell in wait for dumbass humans like them, but it’s kind of like a coping mechanism too. slenderman isn’t half as scary as he could be when they’re basically propositioning themselves to him. 

there’s a lot for them to unpack if/once they survive this.

he’s pretty content with screaming until someone finds them (isn’t that how most things work? screaming? until the world acquiesces?), but then there’s a loudass noise that startles yideun. he nearly stumbles, instinctively hiding behind joowon (and using joowon as a shield, but if asked, he’ll refuse to admit it). 

“what the fuck did you do,” he hisses, like it was only joowon yelling about slenderman. they’ll probably die here, and maybe it’ll be the most unglorious thing yideun’s done in his life (which is saying a lot), but at least the forest is kind of nice. “was that something growling? does slenderman growl? are we being tailed by a fucking wolf?”

he clamps his eyes shut before taking a wary step backward, fist curled around the fabric of joowon’s shirt to pull him backward too. they’re going to get the fuck out of here if it’s the last thing yideun does. he still has to finish watching the world of the married, and he’ll commit murder himself if he doesn’t see the finale.

“c’mon,” he whispers, even though he has literally no idea where he’s going. the only thought in his mind is that he’d probably like to go backward (away from the noise) rather than forward (into the mouth of a wolf, probably). “ugh, fuck, this blows,” he repeats with a grimace. “okay, i really think the only option we have at this point is to pray it’s a werewolf so you can seduce them or throw ourselves onto the ground and start rolling in hopes we roll down.”

     he winces at yideun’s messages, knowing that the other is only kidding, and yet his joke is exactly what the situation is. in hindsight, he supposes that he was stupid to take on the challenger course. they had passed the standard course with relative ease, but of course he hadn’t been able to leave well enough alone. part of it was due to the fact that he had wanted the distraction before a promised return to the lake (seungwoo has had enough of bodies of water to last a lifetime) and the other part was really just… his own desire to do something exciting.

     he has no one to really blame than himself. he’s been trying to keep up a more positive attitude, not wanting to burden his boyfriend more than he already is, leaving him with the bulk of the work of taking care of not only uyu, but now also him. seungwoo scoops up their yipping puppy from beside the bed, depositing uyu on the blankets, where the white pomeranian snuggles up against him.

     ✎ message to ••• ( 이(든)무기 )           ➥ uh……….. about that…           ➥ yeah………. my knee…           ➥ you’re so rude to me 😭           ➥ i think i tore my acl again…           ➥ i’m just in my room           ➥ i’ve been forbidden from moving

that thing about people getting wiser with age? yeah, he isn’t sure if he really buys it.

(and he’s kind of joking, because he gets that seungwoo’s wise in... other ways, maybe? fingers crossed? who the fuck knows? what is wisdom, really, at the end of the day? fuck labels, you know? but anyway, wow. right this second, yideun can’t say he’s impressed.)

( SMS!! ) an actual grandpa

→ have u considered doing things that do not warrant rudeness lol  → jk ill be rude rain or shine LMAOOOOO  → lmao ok ill be there in 15 txt me ur door code 

it takes closer to twenty minutes for yideun to actually get to seungwoo’s dorm—especially considering he forgets the red ginseng after he makes it out of his dorm and has to go back. the effort is definitely not welcome, but as much as yideun would hate to admit it, he does kind of care about his friends. 

wow. absolutely disgusting.

he calls his sister on his way too, arriving at seungwoo’s door right as the conversation eases to a close. “yeah,” yideun replies, dully, into the phone as he punches in the code and pushes the door open. he meanders into the space toward seungwoo’s room. “well, i don’t think anyone wakes up one morning and decides they’re going to fuck up their knee again for shits and giggles,” he says pointedly, before opening the door and addressing seungwoo. “unless you do.” 

without much fanfare, yideun clicks his tongue, settling the case of red ginseng extract on the floor by the door.