Wynnss
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Now, at twenty-six, he had seen centuries. He had walked through streets that existed long before he was born. Each jump left him in awe, sometimes disoriented, but always exhilarated.
He had always remained in the shadows. Observed. Recorded. Returned.
“—and that’s why I will never trust a vending machine in Busan again,” Jisung said, the words laced with the carefree slur of someone slightly tipsy. He grinned, expecting laughter.
There was a pause.
A stilted cough. Felix raised an eyebrow. “I… don’t get it.”
“Yeah,” Hyunjin said slowly, arms crossed, “what’s funny?”
Jisung blinked, feeling the faint, familiar tug, the sensation of the world drawing in a breath it wasn’t going to release. His smile faltered, and he waved a hand weakly. “Come on, guys… not now. I’m tipsy.”-
Or : Every time Jisung makes a bad joke, he time travels. He doesn't know why or how it happens, but the key to getting back to his own time is making a good joke.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 37,247
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Collections:
- 1
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- 26
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Bookmarked by Wynnss
08 Apr 2026
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A writer and a tattoo artist.
A pen and a needle.
Two different worlds, two kinds of ink—one meant for pages, the other for skin.
Would they risk blending their lives, their art, their hearts—
and create something permanent, something beautiful, together?Lee Minho, known in the underground tattoo scene as Lee Know, spends his nights sketching stories in permanent lines, his hands steady and guarded, his heart hidden behind buzzing machines and dim studio lights. Han Jisung, a soft-spoken bibliophile and aspiring writer, lives for words, warm coffee cups, and rainy afternoons spent annotating dog-eared books.
They meet by accident—under a gray, rain-washed sky, in a quiet coffee shop where ink stains fingers instead of skin. A spilled drink, a shared table, a conversation that lingers longer than expected.
What starts as small glances and hesitant smiles slowly becomes something deeper: late-night talks, shared silences, and the gentle realization that maybe ink doesn’t have to stay in just one world.
Bookmarked by Wynnss
19 Jan 2026
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"Holy shit, you're a lot hotter in person," Jisung said, staring at Minho in shock.
Jeongin sighed and rubbed his forehead with his fingertips. Jisung looked mortified at the sound of his own words.
"You saw me in person yesterday," said Minho, patience thin as the freezing air.
"Your face was kind of melting then," Jisung defended.
(or: Minho has a cabin in the woods. Jisung knocks on the door.)
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Feelings are a complicated thing to have, Jisung knows that much.
He should know better than to allow his heart to beat faster than usual, to allow excitement to prickle under his skin, to allow his usually dreamless nights to be plagued by soft smiles and hues of soft blonde. Jisung should know better, but he still allows himself to feel, if only for a little while. To feel his heart beating in his chest, to feel the rush of excitement that takes over him when he lies down at night and tries to sleep.
But Minho is gone now, and Jisung has to find a way to get him back. If destroying everything in his path to get what he wants is what has to happen, then so be it. He will burn the world to ashes if that means he will get Minho back.
This is where Jisung’s life changes forever.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 43,310
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- 1/1
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- 1
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- 7
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- 98
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- 45
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Bookmarked by Wynnss
25 Aug 2025
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“Jisung, you better have a damn good reason for being late this time.”
“Uh…” Jisung mutters as he brainstorms. “Oh! I just met the love of my life. You know those rom-com running late scenes? Well it legit happened to me, so say hello to my future husband!” Jisung pulls the boy out from behind him and pushes him forward. The poor guy looks completely flustered, cheeks red as he holds onto the painting as if it is the only thing grounding him to the earth.
Professor Cha raises an eyebrow, addressing the boy. “Does Jisung even know your name?”
The boy shakes his head and Jisung pouts. “Aw, come on, that’s not fair!”
“Jisung, go sit down,” his professor says, sighing.
“Mhm, one minute.” Jisung digs around in his bag and pulling out a big purple marker. He pushes up the boy’s sleeve and scribbles his number across the entirety of his forearm in the plum colored ink.
“Don’t forget to call me, babe,” Jisung chirps, capping the pen and grabbing his painting from the boy’s limp arms, walking to his seat.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 18,980
- Chapters:
- 1/1
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- 2
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Bookmarked by Wynnss
12 Aug 2025