#I have asked for the teacher to move me but he just completely blew me off as being sensitive

[yyawnjun]

LOVE GUIDE(SAY YES) chap2

You wake up at 7 a.m. to the sound of your alarm clock, going to get ready for your first class at 9 a.m.

You quickly ate breakfast before preparing to leave. And you were still sleepy when you put on your headphones and shut the door to your apartment.

The blue sky was cloudless, and the sun warmed your skin slightly. A gentle breeze blew over your hair, and the music in your ears seemed to magnify the good sentiments caused by everything around you. Although it was a Tuesday morning a smile decorated your face and warmed your heart.

You entered the classroom a few minutes early and instantly noticed Dk, your desk mate, who was handing you a white bag with two cupcakes inside while his head was still lying on the desk. As you walked to your seat with the gift in your hands, your smile brightened even further, and you thanked him with a simple pat on the head.

The professor entered the classroom while you were still delighting in the things that had cheered you up that morning, and all the students fell silent.

"Good morning, everyone. As you already know there will be a collaboration with another class today. The class of your own year of Stylists." At those words, your eyes lit up as Yunjin-one of your closest friends in that class.

"Every student in the Fashion class will work in pairs with a Stylist," and your tension continued to rise.

"The teachers have already chosen the partners.

-You can see your project partners on display boards outside this classroom.

-The entire project will be completed in one month.

- The student designer will be required to create three sketches, one per week. The sketches will be produced by outside assistants.

- The duo will choose the theme, which must be approved by the teachers.

- The fashion show will be evaluated and held at the end of the 30 days.

- The grade will count for half of the overall grade.

Be creative, and good luck."

The thousand pieces of information began to run through your head uncontrollably. The professor kept talking, saying how some classes would be suspended and how it was not possible to change partners…

As soon as the hour was over all the students jumped out of the classroom, curious as to what their partner would be.

Soon after the long crowd had dispersed, and many students had gone on to their next classes.

With your heart in your throat, you got up, and after waking up Dk who was still sleeping blissfully you moved toward the board with your heart in your throat.

"…Huh Yun-jin," said Dk reading from the board as he yawned and crinkled his eyes.

"I KNEW IT! I knew I would end up with Yunjin! Today is definitely my day!!" you exclaimed happily ready to run to your friend.

"I don't know how to tell you this…but they paired me with her," and with just those words your gaze changed completely.

If Dk was with Yunjin. Who are you paired with?

You moved quickly to check the list and scrolled through all 38 names until you found yours. Connected to it was a name-and that was: Kwon Soon-young.

"Kwon Soon-young…" you uttered in a low voice as you were intent on reading his name. Your tone appeared almost like a whisper, a faint call, a manifestation?….

Kwon Soon-young at that very moment felt shiver; "someone is talking about me," he thought as he walked toward the classroom whose lesson began 10:30 a.m...

chap1 // chap3 ; mlist

。　　　　✧　　　　⁺　 　 　。

summary: It is clear to everyone that Kwon Soon-young has a huge crush on the model student Yn. But can Hoshi, a passionate and funny stylist make her fall in love in just a month? What if he followed a weird LOVE GUIDE, that he found in the school bathroom?

。　　　　✧　　　　⁺　 　 　。

taglist(10/50): @alsktudy @kissesfrmwonwoo @marsstarxhwa @haohyo @wonwooz1 @wonwoos-wineparty @mhlsymlysn @nishloves @punkhazardlaw @manooffline

send an ask or comment under THIS post to be part of it !!

[lurkingshan]

Sahara Sensei to Toki-kun Final Review

I was planning to just chalk this one up to every project having a flop, let this subpar Drama Shower show finish quietly, and move on to the next, but that finale was so egregiously bad that I can't let it pass. This is an angry rant so read at your own risk.

Let me just preface this by saying that I am not opposed to media about taboo relationships, particularly from Japan. Exploring taboo is a big part of the Japanese media landscape, and I have seen it done quite well in many Japanese works. I did not come into this show set against the idea of the relationship at its core (age gap, teacher/student), but I did need to see the show engage with the idea of it responsibly, and demonstrate that if they were going to end up together, that would actually be good for our protagonist, Toki.

This show utterly failed on both fronts. At no point in the course of this show did the story engage seriously with the fact that Sahara is 1) an adult teacher with professional obligations and standards of conduct to meet; 2) Toki's direct homeroom teacher who is responsible for guiding him. Instead, the story told us over and over again that none of this mattered. Not a single other character in this story was alarmed by the idea of Sahara dating his student. When Sahara "accidentally" kissed Toki in the school play in front of the entire school, there were no consequences. Sahara flirted with and touched Toki openly, at school, in front of others, and no one cared. Toki blew off his assignments in favor of focusing on and flirting with Sahara, and Sahara didn't care or help guide him back to focusing on his work. When Sahara's ex flame, who is also a teacher, found out he had feelings for his student, he encouraged him to pursue it. There was not a single character in this story who professed any concern for Toki's well-being once they knew his teacher was pursuing him.

And they damn well should have, because as we saw for ourselves in this very episode, this relationship with Sahara encouraged Toki to hide his problems, refuse to ask for help, and get himself hurt. And why? Because he didn't want to be embarrassed about being bullied or look weak in front of his teacher boyfriend. This is exactly why teachers are not supposed to cross these lines with their students. Toki needed Sahara to be a safe adult he could talk to and ask for help when he needed it a lot more than he needed someone to flirt with. And because Sahara did not maintain appropriate boundaires, Toki did not feel comfortable going to him to do his actual job.

And this is just the tip of the iceberg with this episode's sins. Toki's arc in this show completely fell apart. We started this story with the idea that he was a nice kid with a good heart who just needed to believe there was a future for him to work toward, but rather than completing that arc for him, this episode was about establishing a childhood connection between him and Sahara so that the show could give them a Fated Destiny excuse to get together. We spent most of this episode justifying Sahara confessing to his student rather than getting to see Toki grow or being shown anything to make us believe this relationship is actually good for Toki. No, this show decided to make that claim entirely via an expository voiceover right before Toki literally chucked his diploma into the bushes to jump on Sahara and tell him he liked him. What a fucking metaphor and perfect encapsulation of the message from this disaster of a story.

This show was a mess with no idea what it was trying to say, no grasp on the dynamics it was playing with, and no care whatsoever for its characters or the messages it was putting out into the world. I don't respect it and I absolutely cannot recommend it.

[bengiyo]

I Told Sunset About You Rewatch Ep 5 (Finale) Stray Thoughts

As a disclaimer, I don't think ITSAY is the end of this story, but it is the end of this run. This is an I Promised You the Moon fan account.

I also rewatched The Love of Siam (2007) last night to return to the angst I felt going into the end of this.

Last time, Teh blew up every relationship in his life thinking he was doing something for Oh, but really just being a condescending ass to everyone in his life. There was much ugly crying. However, we got the best underwater kiss ever, so it's a wash?

Teh got back to test taking form, but Oh seems to be struggling even with Teh's tools.

This show makes deleting your chat lots so dramatic by underscoring it with the Untold Answer instrumental.

I like walking through the wreckage of Teh's relationships. The friend chat is awkward. His mom is still mad, but she's still make sure he eats. Hoon still believes in him, and wants him to keep the tuition money. His teachers think he's been irresponsible and want him to learn the lesson and do better. Tarn is still pissed and setting effective boundaries.

I continue to adore MoRaoYuLok.

Of course Teh has to be petty and mean to Oh while giving a blessing to Phillip. This is not how you get a man, Teh.

I really do get the "It should have been Bas" folks. He's so kind and earnest. He's not afraid of his feelings for Oh. He said, "I have no shame." Just look at Teh losing it because Bas can just say how he feels for Oh in front of everyone.

I love this teacher for interrupting Oh's answer. It was brave for Bas to confess publicly, but Oh doesn't need to give his answer publicly. Very tactful of the teacher. He gets a plate.

Drink the damn coconut, Teh. Let your family support you.

We don't talk about Nah enough and how well she worked with Billkin and Nat.

Look at them calling back to the first day they met here.

Teh, why are you hurting your own feelings asking questions you already know the answer to? This man is a masochist. He always chooses the thing that will fuck up his life the most.

Look at this man. He is ugly crying during an exam. I feel bad because this is what the closet does to you. Oh moved on, and now he's looking at a version of his life where all of his efforts went to complete waste. Like he's totally in the wrong, but so was I when I was his age. I also made big mistakes.

See, I love the pacing of this show. As much as I feel for Teh and his struggles, he infected Oh with internalized homophobia. Oh panics a bit at Bas holding his hand because of what trying to be with Teh has done to him. That's fucked, and so sad. Bas is just so sweet.

Brother balcony scene, my beloved. You gotta see the documentaries to hear Boss talk about Teh and Nat in this scene.

Still, excellent pacing to follow the mixed feelings of the last few scenes with Teh finally admitting aloud what's going on with him. Hoon is a great brother for asking his brother what needed to be asked in the right way.

I'm an oldest sibling, and one of the oldest cousins. I would have loved having a peer relative give me permission to be who I am. This scene gets me every time.

Love Hoon mentioning hand holding and we've had Bad holding Oh's hand in both scenes around the balcony.

Everyone else is worried about Teh and Bas is unbothered.

Piano scene, my beloved.

Oh immediately reacting to the song, and then the slow pan to push Bas out of frame so we know he's back on his Teh bullshit. Then the reveal that Teh is also here and in his feelings next to the Oh-aew dessert? Skyline remains undefeated.

Of course Oh-aew's family have a red iPad. It's his color and he's not wearing his color right now.

Tarn didn't fuck up her admissions. That's all that matters.

Oh-aew getting into his first pick makes me cry every time. Skyline? Undefeated.

Sui is so relieved that Teh is still getting into a school with his program, but Try feels like he failed because his plan is off.

Bas is the bravest out of all of them. He took Oh to Teh's house so Oh could break up with him. I've been Bas, too. It hurts to know you're not their choice. It's interesting that Teh is upset about only getting his second choice school and Bas is upset about being Oh's second choice.

"I don't want to see him sad." These two, I swear. Bas, I hope you found someone who cares about you first.

Of course we can't have a Bas and Oh scene without checking in with Tarn. I like how they changed her costuming slightly so she looks a little more grown up.

The Tarn Teh-Yongjian portrait is such a thoughtful gift. I feel bad for Tarn, because Teh is trying to let her down as gently as he can. He does his best to affirm that he really did like Tarn for two years, and one of his fears is of things changing and losing friends.

Smile plays Tarn's disappointment so beautifully during the scene. I really don't think we've praised her performance enough. I want to interview her and Tina Holmes (for her work in Edge of Seventeen and Shelter). She tries so hard to not make Teh feel bad even as her heart breaks. Not until Nara in La Pluie do I think we've let the ones who lost in love be sad with this much respect.

I'm glad I watched Love of Siam again, because that movie also cleared up all of its problems before building towards a gay crescendo.

This track playing during Oh's run is so beautiful.

Welcome back, Skyline instrumental. You are the standard.

It's really beautiful to see Teh encouraging Oh for something he believes in finally.

The story of them filming the cape scene and the clouds clearing is as good as the show itself. I cry just thinking about Boss telling us about it.

Oh, Oh-aew, you always have so much room to this boy. "Do not disappear like that again, please," is such a reasonable request.

"If I can be anything, can I be your boyfriend?" genuinely healed a massive hole in my heart left behind by the end of The Love of Siam. What a beautiful final shot. You have no idea the angst I carried even through the first five years I was in modern BL.

When I tell you we had no idea that I Promised You the Moon was coming, and this stinger made us lose our collective minds.

Final Verdict: 10, It Is Still the Standard. This is by far one of the most coherent shows we've ever had. Every single aspect of this show is executed to near-perfection. There is a reason many of us talk about BL as pre- and post-ITSAY. If you have been sitting on the fence about this show, I genuinely think it's hard to understand the seismic shift that followed this show without witnessing it for yourself.

Look for more commentary from us on @the-conversation-pod in the fall. We record our retrospective tomorrow!

[grantgoddard]

I can't dance to that music you're playin' : 1970 : Emperor Rosko, The Paris Theatre, London

“Would you like to dance?” the girl asked.

I was dumbfounded. Nobody had ever asked me to dance. Particularly a girl!

“Er, no thanks,” I mumbled pathetically.

“Oh, go on, please,” she chivvied. Anyone else would have been flattered. But me? I was terrified.

“Sorry, but I can’t dance,” I tried to explain. The girl looked disappointed but gave up and walked back to the stage. It might have been the beginning of a beautiful friendship. But I blew it.

It was true. I have never been able to dance. Too self-conscious. Too buttoned-up in that English way. The last occasion I recall dancing wildly was the 1977 Trevelyan College Summer Ball to which fellow student Zena Carter had generously invited me and whom I must have embarrassed immensely with my feeble attempt at ‘Saturday Night Fever’ moves I had just seen at Durham’s cinema. All the posh male students in attendance wore black tuxedos, while I looked completely out-of-place in a borrowed white suit, jigging around to the local live band ‘No Exit’ featuring a certain ‘Sting’. I still cringe. Three years later, my job would be adding hit songs by his next band ‘The Police’ to local station ‘Metro Radio’s playlist.

But that was in the future. Back in 1970, another reason I turned down the girl’s invitation to dance was that I had become terribly shy. At primary school I had considered myself no different from my classmates. Then, after moving to grammar school in 1969, I was developing a creeping sense of inferiority, not comprehending why my termly school reports criticised me for not being sufficiently vocal in class. Achieving classwork and exam results near the top of my year of sixty students was seemingly judged insufficient unless you flaunted your cleverness by regularly sticking up your hand in class and pushing yourself in front of teachers. In my new ‘streamed’ school, populated by many privately educated ‘prep school’ protegees, it appeared a boy might inexplicably be considered deficient for simply being ‘quiet’ and demonstrating no interest in blowing his own trumpet. I responded to my school’s reproaches by retreating into shyness in company … which dogged me for decades to come.

I might have felt less self-conscious about the girl walking up to me in the end seat of the fourth row on the left side of the centre aisle, had my mother not been sat right next to me. I was embarrassed. I was twelve years old, though I appeared older because of my height. I had written to the BBC Ticket Unit to request a pair of tickets to attend the live broadcast of Emperor Rosko’s Saturday lunchtime ‘BBC Radio One’ show at London’s Paris Theatre. None of my new schoolfriends appeared to be interested in the music I followed, so my mother had accompanied me on the train from Camberley.

The Paris Theatre had been an art-house cinema showing French films in Lower Regent Street until the BBC acquired it in 1946 and equipped it with a radio studio to record concerts and live comedy shows before a seated audience of around 400. From 1968, the weekday lunchtime ‘Radio One Club’ show had been broadcast live from the venue, hosted by a station DJ and showcasing a live band in front of an audience who had all sent to the BBC for their ‘Club’ membership cards. It was the station’s earliest attempt at outreach to its listeners and, by the 1970’s, was extended from London to cities around the country. In 1974, it was replaced by the touring ‘Radio One Roadshow’ whose format was similar to the large summer outdoor events Rosko had been organising independently since the 1960’s.

I was a huge fan of Rosko’s weekly radio show because he played reggae and new American soul records as yet unreleased in Britain. At that time, when around 100 new singles were released a week in the UK, record companies would wait to see which American singles proved successful in North American charts before committing to a British release date. This delay could be months, often allowing British pop artists to ‘cover’ American soul hits before the original was available in shops. My parents owned Julie Grant’s single of ‘Up On The Roof’ which had reached number 33 in 1962, but they had never heard the original by The Drifters which failed to chart in Britain. Grant successfully parlayed her chart success into several television appearances and a concert tour with The Rolling Stones, another British act recycling American black music at the time.

Each week I would record Rosko’s 90-minute Saturday show onto an audiocassette and listen to it repeatedly on headphones while I did my homework, before recording the next show over it the following weekend. This was the first occasion I heard James Brown’s ‘Sex Machine’ single, Rosko playing the A-side one week and its B-side the next. It changed my life! Many outstanding tracks like this recorded onto my cassette I went on to buy as imported American singles from ‘Contempo’ at 42 Hanway Street or ‘Record Corner’ in Balham, the main retailers for new American black music as yet unreleased in the UK. Many of those songs first heard on Rosko’s show I still know by heart and treasure to this day. Without the benefit of a black music radio station in Britain (London soul pirate ‘Radio Invicta’ did not launch until December 1970), Rosko was the nearest experience available, even though he mixed reggae and soul with some pop and rock tracks.

What marked Rosko’s shows out from the rest of ‘Radio One’s output was that he simultaneously operated a mobile discotheque (the ‘Rosko International Roadshow’) and compered concerts by American soul artists touring the UK. That gave him a unique insight into the specific music British audiences wanted to hear, something that many of his studio-bound radio colleagues did not understand. The other factor was that Rosko was allowed to choose his own records to play on the radio, whereas the music in most shows was selected by ‘Radio One’ producers, the majority of whom preferred twee British novelty acts to ‘foreign’ reggae and soul. These ‘gatekeepers’ could determine through national airplay whether a record was to become a hit or not in Britain, so the charts inevitably reflected their value judgements.

I was fascinated when analysing the British singles charts from this period to discover the volume of chart-topping pop songs that are never played as ‘oldies’ nowadays because they sound embarrassingly quaint or sentimental. Compare that to the significantly lower chart positions achieved by many black music recordings considered now to be ‘classic’ or ‘standards’ [documented in my book ‘KISS FM’]. It is forgotten just how ‘white’ the BBC’s popular music station sounded overall, despite valiant attempts to play more soul by daytime DJ’s Tony Blackburn and Dave Lee Travis. My appreciation of reggae was sparked by Rosko but had to be developed by evenings tuned to ‘Radio Luxembourg’ which Trojan Records paid to play their latest reggae releases. In 1971, singer Nicky Thomas even recorded the song ‘BBC’ to chastise ‘Radio One’ for not playing enough reggae, its release accompanied by a protest march to Broadcasting House. This had no evident impact on the station’s producers who were almost exclusively recruited from the white middle-classes and who moulded ‘Radio One’ in their own image.

This was why my visit (without dancing) to the Paris Theatre that Saturday was to become such a memorable experience, having enjoyed some of my favourite soul and reggae tunes played loudly through Rosko’s enormous sound system loudspeakers. When the girl asked me to dance, Rosko had been playing Edwin Starr’s ‘War’, a remarkably innovative Motown production by Norman Whitfield recorded to protest the Vietnam War with its chorus: “war … what is it good for? … absolutely nothing!”

A few years ago, I created a Spotify playlist of several hundred Whitfield productions, such remains my unbridled enthusiasm for his work (often with songwriting partner Barrett Strong). At the beginning of October this year, something prompted me to return to this playlist and update it with songs Whitfield subsequently recorded for his own label, notably by Rose Royce. I spent the following days listening non-stop to songs from my enlarged playlist such as ‘War’, ‘Stop The War Now’, ‘Friendship Train’, ‘Unite The World’ and ‘You Make Your Own Heaven And Hell Right Here On Earth’ all recorded half a century ago, all explicitly criticising violence and promoting peace. This was the music I was listening to only days later when news broke of atrocities committed in Israel. The music was appropriate … but the timing was inexplicably spooky.

[fuwushiguro]

thinking many thoughts about secret pervert!Nanami who’s pretty bashful about being a perv and overt pervert!Gojo who’s really just scum with a sensei kink

Notes: I love this!! I also love the idea of Gojo purposefully doing stuff to rub Nanami's nose in it since he knows he is shy... reader is a teacher at Jujutsu Tech!!

Warnings: Stalking, Groping, Doggystyle, Cucking!

pervert!Nanami + pervert!Gojo x f!Reader

➪ pervert!Nanami watches you as you train with the students. But he's discrete. He doesn't outright ogle you. He sits outside with a newspaper, occasionally peering over the top to admire how your body moves. Those little glasses of his seem to have more uses than one.

➪ pervert!Gojo does outright ogle you. You feel his eyes burning holes through your clothes, even through that blindfold of his.

➪ pervert!Nanami needs to cross his legs when he catches sight of your bouncing breasts as you perform a particular lively movement. His ankle rests on his knee, and thank goodness for that newspaper...

➪ pervert!Gojo has a wicked smile on his face at that very same lively movement. Utterly beguiled by your chest. He'll whistle to gain your attention. And when he has it, he'll yell something like 'nice tits sweetheart!' completely humiliating you in front of your students.

➪ pervert!Nanami thinks Gojo is a moron. You'll never be interested in him if he embarrasses you like that. He's so lewd and so up front about what a creep he is! But not Nanami... Nanami is the perfect gentleman to your face. He suspects you like that about him.

➪ pervert!Gojo thinks Nanami is talking out of his ass. He can look down his nose at him all he likes, but Gojo isn't stupid. There's no way his crossed legs and skilfully rested newspaper are going to fool Gojo. 'All hot and bothered over a pair of tits, hey Nanami?'

➪ pervert!Nanami takes any opportunity to be close to you and talk with you. Complimenting your progress with the children seems as good a place as any. You'll forgive him if he accidentally moves his body in such a way that his hand can momentarily cop a feel of your rear, won't you? He apologises profusely after all...

➪ pervert!Gojo sees your little post class meeting with Nanami and decides to invite himself to the party. He wraps his arm around your shoulders and rubs just how close the two of you are in Nanami's face. Why are you so angry with him? It's not his fault that his arms just so happen to be so long he can reach and squeeze a handful of your breast.

➪ pervert!Nanami chastises Gojo for his childishness. He rolls his eyes when that only seems to inspire his behaviour more. He'll try to change the subject and ask you what you did this weekend, as if he doesn't know. He knows you were home all weekend since he was parked outside of your house sniffing a pair of panties you left here after training. He hasn't washed them. He blew his load watching you strut around your house naked after a shower.

➪ pervert!Gojo grabs your flesh harder and brings the conversation back to what a perv he really is. 'Tell Nanami what you call me baby.' 'what do I call you?' 'you know... in front of the kids.' 'I don't know what you're talking about Gojo.' 'Don't play dumb, starts with an S...' 'S? S... Sensei?' 'Y'hear that Nanami? Hear what she calls me? Tell him again baby go ahead.' you try to shove him away, the fucking creep, but that damn infinity of his...

➪ pervert!Nanami has a light rose pink colour dust across his features as he watches you storm away. Such a pretty walk with so much sass in your step. He thinks you have a gorgeous ass.

➪ pervert!Gojo laughs as you storm off in a huff. He has the same thought as Nanami. That ass is perfection. 'Hate to see you go but love to watch you leave sweetheart!'

➪ pervert!Nanami likes that you alternate between living on campus and at your own residence. He has memorised which days you're away so he can steal your panties when you're least expecting. On the days you do stay on campus he likes to take a longer walking route to go home himself, he likes to listen to you outside of your room before he leaves for the day.

➪ pervert!Gojo knows this about Nanami too. He thinks he's so discrete but Gojo has him all figured out. That's why he thinks Nanami may be a little disappointed with his walking route today...

➪ pervert!Nanami likes to palm himself through his trousers as he leans up against your door. But, why is it slightly ajar? He leans in closer, he doesn't want to open your door and expose himself as the pervert that he is. But, are you crying? No... He can hear the sound of skin slapping skin.

➪ pervert!Gojo is thrilled when Nanami opens the door. The younger man's face drops in horror as he sees Gojo balls deep in your pretty cunt. Your fingers gripping into sheets crying out 'Gojo! Gojo! Gojo!' like a prayer. He spanks you, 'sensei suits me better.' tears stream down your face from the bliss of it all. Your eyes find Nanami's. He looks crushed, he thought you were better than this. Better than him. But how could you deny Gojo when you know the reason he's so cocky is because his stroke game is A1?

➪ pervert!Nanami slams the door closed and is quaking with fury. He's furious that you've let Gojo have your body before him, of course. But he's even more furious that he's so fucking turned on by your mascara streaked face and fucked out expression. He needs to get to his car, he needs to get home. Your precious panties are there waiting for him.

➪ pervert!Gojo is elated as you babble out how humiliated you are. It's so incoherent and idiotic. 'Can't you talk right when you’re stuffed full of cock?' apparently not. He fills you to the brim with his seed, and you fall asleep almost instantly. He'll be a good guy and see himself out, right? Right... Juuuuuust after he takes a few pictures of your drippy fucked out hole. He's sure Nanami will appreciate them. Maybe he'll show a couple to the first years too...

© 2021 fuwushiguro

[subwaysurf45]

Love You to the Moon and Back

summary: Bucky notices you’re feeling down after a bad injury, he does his best to help.

words:  3817

warning: depressive episode, doctors, mainly fluff!

pairing: Bucky x Reader 

Masterlist!

Bucky could tell you were getting bad again. 

And it hurt him to see you like this but it always happened after a big mission, your job was traumatizing and it took a toll on all of you. Bucky knew he had his days but he also knew when you finally let yourself slip it was really bad. 

You were a very headstrong person, you didn’t like letting people see your weaknesses or just you being hurt in general. So it sucked when you had broken your shin and witnessed a school of kids get blown up by a bomb, maybe sucked is an understatement but it was what you always said. 

You had pretended to be a teacher because there was supposed to be a hit on most teachers at a private school, so when the school blew up before everyone was out of the building- including you -it left the memories very crystal clear. There was no way of saving everyone so you saved yourself, and the feeling of selfishness had never been more apparent than right now. You were lying in bed with a cast on your left leg, your left leg was on top of the duvet while the other leg was under. 

A tank top and shorts was all you wore even though you were cold. A pillow was placed between your legs down by your shins to keep the injured one elevated, Bucky had stuck it there the last time he came in to check on you. 

Speaking of Bucky, he walked into your shared room in the compound. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” Bucky cooed as he gently opened and closed the door without making any sound, you had become hyper-aware to sound and light so a loud noise or a flash of a camera could send you into a state of hysterics. Bucky sat himself at the edge of the bed at around your midsection, you were lying in the middle and facing him. You barely said hello, all you could muster was a groan that had the same rhythm as the word hello. “How’s my girl doing?” Bucky rubbed your thigh very carefully. 

It was so obviously a rhetorical question, you were absolutely shit and he knew it. You both just stared at each other and Bucky seemed to get the message, he nodded and looked down. The room was so dark from the lights being off and the curtains being pulled you barely registered that Bucky had a plate of cheese, apple slices, and crackers. Bucky saw you turn your nose up and he knew you would, you had been like this for what felt like weeks. 

“You have your two appointments today, you wanna use the crutches or the wheelchair?” Bucky asked as he gently caressed your thigh, a little hum came after a few sections to clarify this wasn’t rhetorical. 

“I don’t know,” you mumbled into your pillow. 

“Okay…” Bucky held onto the last syllable, he glanced over to the wheelchair and crutches. “How about you have a little snack and then when you got food- and I’ll get water -you can make your choice. You also know you can switch and I’ll be glad to grab it for you, alright?” he did a few quick pats on your thigh before setting the plate down on the bedside table, he grunted as he stood up and stuck his arms slowly beneath you. All Bucky did was sit you upright to eat, you had gotten better at eating and now didn’t need motivation to eat but just a little push at the beginning to keep going after the first bite. Bucky also found if he ate a few pieces from the plate you’d be more inclined to eat the rest. 

“Thanks,” your voice was low and barely audible. 

“No need, pretty lady,” Bucky got right beside you and grabbed the plate, he placed it between you and let you choose the first piece. “So, you’re at the doctor at two and then Doc at three-ten, do you wanna nap between for a little or for a while after?” he just took a cracker and plopped it into his mouth. 

“No, no nap between, I wanna sit outside Doc’s office like before to make sure I’m not late.” You mumbled and stacked a piece of cheese on an apple slice. Doc was your therapist that was assigned to you a little while before your injury, Bucky wasn’t the only one who got nightmares and manic episodes; you probably got them more. Bucky knew he couldn’t go into your therapy meeting, he could physically go in but it went against his morals, this was your time to be alone and completely vulnerable to a human that you only see one or twice a week, he didn’t want you to sugar coat anything just because he wa sitting there. 

Bucky nodded and hummed before pulling the notebook out of the bedside table’s drawer, your combat backpack which you used for everything between missions and a picnic in the park was curled over itself in the corner of your room. Bucky picked it up and headed back to bed to let it rest there as he packed. He did this when you weren’t injured, Bucky had sadly realized your memory was a little shot from the amount of bootleg brainwashing and head injuries. You’d constantly forget about appointments or missions, or even the date. 

“Baby, I told you, your birthday is today, that’s why I got flowers.” Bucky said and pointed to the counter with the bright flowers on it. 

“No…” you rubbed the front of your head. “My birthday isn’t today, I forget the day- but it’s not today, I swear.” 

He slid in your journal that you used to write down lists and memories, you had used a guitar pick as your bookmark even though you can’t play anymore. Sometimes when you’d show up to a therapy session you’d forget what you wanted to say, it hurt him when he’d walk you there and you’d be saying the list of things under your breath with your eyes closed. Nightmare, mom, picking my nails, ankle, nightmare, sand, flowers. 

“We gotta go soon, anyways, wanna get ready for the day?” Bucky softly asked, there was no nice way of telling your loved one they needed to shower. 

“Sure,” you looked down at the plate and grabbed the last of it before getting up, the apple and cheese was just curled in the palm of your hand, as you walked over you shoved it all into your mouth because you knew you had to shower and you didn’t like soggy cheese. 

“I’ll keep packing your bag, and I’ll fill a water bottle for you.” Bucky had been your human crutch as you walked to the bathroom, you had an itch down in your cast that was bugging you. 

Tony had wanted to add tech to the shower to help you stand because putting pressure on your left leg hurt after three minutes and seven seconds- not that you were timing to see how long you could go without collapsing. You had said no to tech and just asked for a bar, Bucky even thought it would be cool but it was all up to you. 

Bucky helped you slip out of your clothes before leaving you be, he knew he would have to check on you periodically because you were too stubborn to ask for help if you had fallen or couldn’t get in the shower. You gripped onto the metal bar and helped yourself slip in, you turned the water on right away. 

You liked warm, long showers. You just let the water hit your skin as you stood in front of the shower head, the water pressure was high so you let the bullets hit your face when your eyes were closed. Your hair got wet as you stood there, you reached for the bottle of shampoo and expected it to be where it always was. The was getting into your eyes and when you squinted to see where the bottle was everything was double, as you reached for the bottle you had actually reached for the fake double and knocked the bottle off the ledge. A loud thump rang through the bathroom and it sounded like a bomb. 

There was one second of silence before you heard scrambling from outside the bathroom door, all at once you could see the door swing open by its shadow through the curtain. The curtain was pulled back so hard a couple of ringlets holding it up were ripped off. 

“Baby?” Bucky yelled before he registered you were standing upright. “What?” he breathed heavily, he was completely expecting you to be passed out on the floor with a cracked skull. 

“Shampoo bottle,” you said meekly. 

“Oh, thank god…” Bucky sighed to himself as he reached down to pick it up. “Are you hurt at all, did you fall?” He placed the bottle back on the ledge which made him reach across your naked body, on his way back his hand touched your shoulder then went to cup your cheek and move your head to look at him. 

“I’m all good, babe.” You smiled, an exhausting smile. 

“Alright, back-is-packed, finish up and I'll help you over to physio, alright?” Bucky closed the curtain to give privacy but waited for a verbal answer. 

“Perfect, thank you.” You grabbed the bottle again, your heart ached for him to be in the shower with you, it was something you did all the time before you were injured. 

“Don’t thank me, pretty lady.” Bucky reached for the door and opened it, before he could walk out, your voice quietly called his name, he could barely hear it over the water in the shower. “Yes?” he replied with the same softness. 

“Stay here with me, please.” the ‘please’ came after a beat, and extra plea. 

“Always,” Bucky sat on the toilet seat and gave the company you needed as you tried to stick your finger down your cast to itch that one spot on your leg. 

*****

Soon enough you were sat in the physio room, Bucky was off to the side with paper work in his lap and a binder in your backpack he packed for you. You liked the moral support when you were here because you never really had the best experience with doctors, Bucky would act like he wasn’t even there. That was a good thing, he did need to be the hovering boyfriend all the time because that can get tiring for both parties. He’d look up and listen to the doctor near the end, Bucky would write down the exercises and when to do them so he could gently remind you later. 

“Alright, you’re gonna get a new cast next week,” the doctor smiled at you, when you didn’t pick up on the excitement the doctor’s smile faded. “That means three quarters done!” Bucky had looked up and smiled, even clapped a couple times. 

“Then I have to learn how to walk again,” that was an exaggeration but it didn’t feel like one. 

The doctor gave a knowing look, “why do I feel like you’re already walking without the crutches?” You didn’t say anything because it was true. 

Your leg was examined and x-rayed, Bucky held onto your necklace as you went in. Your mind faded in and out as the doctor spewed ‘doctor stuff’ at you, you just didn’t have the care to listen; but Bucky did. He’s the type of guy to take notes and research later. 

Bucky would look over and see you looking at the floor, not even paying attention. He knew he couldn't get mad at you, you both dealt with injury very similarly. But something about seeing you shut down entirely made his heart ache, he wanted to reach out and lift the corners of your lips up into a smile because they seemed like they were being weighed down, he couldn’t remember the last time you smiled and real smile. He hadn’t been going on mission to keep you company, but now he knew his most important mission.

He walked you over to your therapy session that was still in the building, your Doc would come to the Avenger tower. He’d walk you right to the door of some random debrief room and kiss you goodbye. Bucky would hold your shoulders and gently rub your arms to hype you up before going in, he gave his little speech and said the same thing after. 

“You know I love you, and I know it’s hard.” he’d then kiss your cheeks and forehead. “I’ll be right here when you’re done, don’t even sweat it, pretty lady.” He then wouldn’t leave until the door closed and he heard muffled voices. 

The tower was right in the heart of the city, everything he needed was right there and a walking distance away. He slipped on a long sleeve and his gloves, he knew you took the backpack but you also had reusable bags, he took a few and headed out into the summer heat, it wasn’t humid today which was great but it wasn’t cold either. The tote bag was slung over his shoulder, all that was in it right now as a list. 

flowers 

chocolate

card

stuffed animal 

To call Bucky a romantic would seem weird to someone who only knew of him from the news or a museum, you knew him as a total hopeless romantic. Even in the 40’s, Bucky was the type of person to keep their walls up until he really got to know and trust you. It would normally be one little thing that would allow him to truly be himself around someone, he let his guard down that day you were walking to the restaurant he made a reservation at, Bucky placed himself so that arm or hand you’d hold would be his right but when you caught on you walk around him and looped both arms around his left, metal arm. After that, he was goner. 

He’d leave little sticky notes everywhere, a blue square paper in the coffee mug that read: ‘make sure you only drink one cup!’ or another on your shampoo bottle: ‘you look great naked ;)’. Bucky knew the little things mattered to you and vice versa, he knew that grand gestures didn’t mean anything without a little kiss that came before. 

The flower shop smelt great, Bucky didn’t know much about plants but he knew which ones you’d like. He was thinking of putting one on each bedside so whenever you’re lying in bed- which was a lot -you could look at some pretty flowers. They were a nice shade of purple and the stems were not too long, Bucky bought them and put them gently in his tote bag before heading over two stores to the grocery store you always shop at.

He was envyus of your clean eating, you’d eat what you want but you’d shop at fermer’s markets and organic stores. Bucky didn’t know it made a difference. He went to the frozen section and found chocolate covered strawberries. Bucky picked up a little pack of eight and headed to the front. There were also flowers there but they didn’t look nearly as nice. All he wanted was a very simple cute card with a blank inside, they were easy to find. It was cream coloured with a little sketch of a fuzzy, brown teddy bear holding a yellow balloon. All it said in dainty cursive at the top was: “look at you go!” Bucky knew this was perfect. Near the cards were little toys and stuffed animals. He found a bear that looked eerily similar to the one on the card but without the balloon. 

As he walked into the Avenger’s tower the bag was full and he had enough time to spare to set things up. Bucky headed to the rooms and made the bed, he changed the sheets as well because he knew you liked them when they were crisp. The teddy sat right in the middle with the card next to it. Bucky had written a little note that covered the entire right side of the card. He got a bowl from the kitchen and filled it with ice, he also found that white wine you liked and stuck it on there with the strawberries just to keep them cool but not melted. 

Bucky glanced at his watch and felt almost giddy as he realized it was time to head over to the conference room, he had to work on not giving it away when he’d first see you with his wide smile. The walk to the room was quick because of how fast Bucky was walking, he turned the corners sharp and almost jogged down the hall down the meeting rooms. He only stood there for about three seconds before the door slowly opened, Doc had opened the door and helped you out. Bucky’s smile turned into complete worry when you walked out holding a tissue to your nose, your eyes were red and puffy. Bucky also noticed that your fingernails were red and bleeding, that was one habit you were currently trying to break. 

“What’s going on?” Bucky asked in quiet disbelief, his eyebrows almost touching. 

Doc gave a curt nod, “we talked about a lot of things,” her answers were always so vague. 

You sniffled and waited for Doc to leave down the hall, Bucky was still looking at you. His hands held your shoulders and gently massaged the answer out of you. 

“It was a good cry, I needed that.” you sighed from exhaustion. 

A little piece of Bucky’s heart broke, if you needed to have a good cry then you could have told him, he would’ve listened. Bucky started to go back and see where it went wrong, if he was too overbearing and if this whole afternoon he had planned was created at a very wrong time. He wanted to ask what he did wrong but what came out was different. “Well that’s good to hear, I know Doc is good at that- helping you out.” His words were true but something about the delivery made it seem uneasy. 

“I just-” you looked to the ceiling and hoped to find the words you needed written there. “I like flushing it all out to her because I won’t see her for a week and I don’t need to keep up with what I’m feeling. I always cry to you but Doc is just really good at explaining how I feel, you’re there to validate it and make me feel soothed.” You held his left hand as you both walked down the hallway. “I feel lighter, like, I feel better.”

“That’s always good, sweetheart,” Bucky made sure you were putting weight on him because you didn’t bring your crutches but you really should have. “I have a little treat for you,” He turned to face you when you both stood at his door, Bucky kept his hand on the door handle. “I know it’s been a rough few weeks but I hope you know I love you all the same, and all I see is my strong, beautiful girlfriend.” Bucky saw your confused face, as he opened the door to reveal a dim lit room with flowers, wine and a teddy your eye welled up with tears again. 

You gasped and put your hands on your chest, “for me?” your voice shook as you walked in, you peered into the ice bucket to see your favourite wine and some food as well as a card beside the ice bucket, under the teddy. Tears flowed down your face as the feeling of being overwhelmed washed over you, you could barely string a sentence together. A hand waved the gifts all away, “too much,” was all you could muster. 

“No, baby,” Bucky smiled, he walked over and pulled you into a hug. “Nothing will ever be too much for you.”

He let you cry in his chest for a very long time, you both ended up sitting on the edge of the bed as he stroked all the way up your back. His hand would bunch up your hair as he went up to your neck. His lips were right at your ear, all he whispered were sweet nothings and a calming ‘shh’ once and a while. When you had a little composure Bucky reached for the card, as you read it your lips trembled even more. A hand stayed glued to your heart as your body warmed at loving words, you could barely read it with blurry vision from the tears but it still seemed crystal clear. Your finger traced over the signature: ‘love you to the moon and back, Bucky’. And you crumbled again, your forehead hit his chest as you cried away all the pent up emotion you thought you flushed out at your therapy session. 

With all the crying you were so tired, Bucky had thrown on a movie you two could watch while enjoying your strawberries and wine. You only had two and half a cup before you were snoring on Bucky’s shoulder, he tried to nudge you a couple times but nothing worked at all. He watched the movie on his own and saved the last two strawberries for you in the morning. You didn’t even wake up at him getting up and leaving the room. When he came back he got you out of your day clothes and into something comfy. 

*****

You woke up to the sun hitting your back, when your eyes opened they focused on the flowers and a smile graced your face. It was the first time in a long time since you smiled with your eyes, a little giggle even slipped out. 

At that sound Bucky walked out of the bathroom, “well there she is,” he smiled wide. 

“What does that mean?” you wiped the drool from the side of your mouth, “I had a nap, a really good one, too.” You seemed to be bragging. 

“A nap? Baby, it’s eight.” Bucky raised his eyebrows. 

“Ya, I fell asleep at about five so I had a three hour nap, no biggie.” You rolled on your back and stretched out, your gaze moved back to Bucky when you heard a giggle, “what?” you laughed back. 

“Eight in the morning, the next day. Your three hour nap was actually a well deserved fifteen hour hibernation.” Bucky joined you on the bed. 

“That’s why I feel so good,” you sighed, you looked over to Bucky and swatted his chest at his little smirk. “Don’t think like that.” 

“I bet I can make you feel just as good-”

You cut him off with a kiss.

[river-bottom-nightmare]

i want dick grayson to be annoyingly perfect in the smallest of unimportant ways. and i want it to irritate the living hell out of everyone around him

every now and then, jason and dick will go to different chili dog carts around the city, and dick will sit and nod in agreement as jason nitpicks the food, occasionally offering his own two cents. the conversations are tense and if the topic strays from anything except food jason books it, but it’s progress, and dick’s grateful. but he doesn’t understand why jason always growls at him when he’s preparing his chili dogs, chalking it up to jason’s obsessiveness about that food in particular. dick figures he’s probably doing it wrong. until one day, jason bites out a rough question, asks him how he did that. dick’s confused, until jason points out, “you tear open the top of the ketchup packet in a perfect line every time. and you get all of the ketchup out of the packet in one smooth squeeze, and you never get any on your fingers, and i don’t understand how.”

roy was, arguably, a better archer than ollie. green arrow had been birthed from the island, from the trauma of survival. roy, however, had been practicing since he was a kid, and now that he was well into his twenties, he could safely say he was one of the best shots in the world. he could beat all his friends at darts, shoot an apple off wally’s head, and was generally pretty awesome. or, he would be awesome, if only dick fucking grayson would stop making every single shot of anything he threw in a trash can. no matter what he was throwing away, no matter the angle, no matter the wind or rain, as long as the trashcan was in eyesight, anything dick tossed would inevitably end up inside the garbage. sometimes, dick barely even glanced at the damn thing, just took note of it a threw the trash, expecting it to land in the proper place. and it always did. the worst part was, dick didn’t even seem to notice it. he wasn’t actively trying to make every shot. when asked, dick just shrugged and said “we had some pretty good knife throwers in the circus.”

tim’s memories starting out as robin were a whirlwind, a push-pull of bruce’s mistrust, then bruce’s acceptance, of dick’s fear and hesitation, then of dick’s love. he still remembered dick making the two of them hot chocolate in the kitchen after a day of training, tim’s muscles sore and entire body aching but the feeling of pride, because he was good enough to be robin, he knew he was. he hadn’t expected that to happen anytime soon again, given the way their relationship had fractured after tim had left dick’s batman, a terrified fury in his eyes. yet, he’d been proven wrong when, after a particularly rough arkham breakout, alfred asked both dick and tim to stay instead of returning to their own apartments. just because the manor brought back a feeling of warm nostalgia, however, doesn’t mean it kept the nightmares away. he came down to the kitchen and saw dick already up, moving around the stovetop. with a knowing look in his eyes, dick grabbed another mug to make tim some hot chocolate. tim was washed over with a feeling of relief, of acceptance. dick slid the mug towards him and tim took a sip, letting the rich chocolate warm him up from the inside. it was delicious. his little sigh of pleasure must have been audible, but then he remembered something he noticed. “dick. did you use alfred’s recipe for this?” and dick laughed, responded with, “nah. too much work. i just sort of tried to remember what was in hot chocolate, and eyeballed most of the ingredients. i’m glad it turned out good though. no clumps too, that’s good.”

donna didn’t care how old she got, playing in the park with dick never got old. as one of her oldest friends, the two of them could just walk around the park, in companionable silence, just letting themselves relax and enjoy the moment. so, of course, dick would break the silence and ask if she had any earbuds, because it was getting to quiet for him. donna laughed, and reached inside her pocket, fingered past the keys, and grabbed the headphones. the tangled little ball that came out made her sigh, and she pulled on an earbud to loosen it, only managing to make one of the many knots tighter. then, dick took the headphones out of her hands with a here, i got it, and with a few quick tugs, the tangled monstrosity unraveled easy as breathing. then, completely unaffected, he handed her an earbud, putting the other in his own ear. “i’m the one who’s got a lasso,” she said, ignoring dick’s snort and quip about how earbuds and a lasso are two completely different things, donna.

cass hadn’t expected to enjoy such a gentle, graceful form of athletics, but after a few lessons, it had become apparent that ballet could be far from gentle. it pushed her, made her practice and strengthen herself, and she’d fallen in love with the art quickly. however, the most frustrating part of the entire thing had little to do with actually dancing. the school bruce had helped pick out was prestigious, which meant a strict dress code, which meant her hair had to be in a bun. unfortunately, her hair never seemed to want to cooperate. after her latest attempt, falling into a mess of hair at her nape that had so many locks falling out, cass contemplated how mad the teacher would be if she showed up in a ponytail. at that moment, dick peeked into her room, having heard her frustrated noise, and asked if he could do anything to help. cass pointed to the mess of hair, not even remotely contained by the hair tie, and blew a strand out of her face. dick smiled with understanding, then came into her room, grabbing the comb on her bed and standing behind her in front of the mirror. he smoothed her hair with the comb, then pulled it this way and that, twisting and turning and wrapping until, two minutes later, a picture perfect bun sat atop her head. cass blinked with surprise. “first try,” she said, staring up at him, but he just shrugged and said, “it’s not that hard. you want me to drop you off?”

bruce could admit that he rather enjoyed undercover missions. it was an extended game with high stakes, a test of his own acting skills. with makeup changing his face, an expertly made wig, and a demeanor completely different from both brucie wayne and from batman, he swept through the crowd of greasy men, looking for a specific contact. then, he caught sight of someone specific indeed, though they weren’t his contact. eyebrows raised in a what are you doing here? gesture, he slid onto a barstool. from behind the bar, dick offered him a blinding smile, cleaning a glass. he tapped his wrist twice, a clear message. undercover, same as you. then, dick grabbed a couple bottles from underneath a shelf, flipping them in his hand and pouring with grandeur. bruce noticed he hadn’t put any alcohol in his little mixture, only making it seem as if he had. the flashy moves were entertaining, bruce could give him that. dick slid him the drink and bruce took a sip, eyebrows raising in brief surprise. “this is good. bartending?” dick put the bottles and the lemon away, unimpressed. “it’s not like it’s hard. just mixing a couple ingredients. no biggie.” bruce was fairly certain bartending was more difficult than that, but just then, his target came into view. 

steph understood some of the bats’ frustration with dick, she really could. he hadn’t exactly been a welcome and opening batman, that’s for sure. regardless, as the few masks left in gotham had to work together, and she’d gotten to know the man pretty well. and she enjoyed his company as nightwing much more than batman. she dropped onto his balcony in his bludhaven apartment, announcing her presence in that loud-subtle way. dick was nestled in a couple blankets on the couch, going over a couple files, apparently just back from patrol if the small bandage on his neck and bags under his eyes were any indication. nevertheless, he brightened when he saw her and she nodded when he asked if she wanted to spend the night. he moved some of the papers to make room for her on the couch, but she flitted into his bathroom, going through the nail polish bottles she knew he had, and grabbing a shade of red that caught her eye. she tossed him the bottle and put her fingers in his lap, talking aimlessly about a movie she watched with cass. dick seemed to relax amidst her jabbering, and he shook the bottle a couple times before opening it and focusing on her right hand. but as he started, steph paused her rambling and focused on him instead, holding her hands gently and brushing paint onto her nails. he managed to cover her entire nail in three easy strokes, smooth and glossy, not a hint of paint on her skin. the nail was practically perfect. oh god she was jealous. “got a lot of practice with this, grayson?” she asked, and laughed at dick’s mock-offended of course not!

damian wasn’t one for photography, and he could grudgingly admit drake was far better at that particular skill than he was. however, his art class had promised to cover all types of media, and had upheld that pledge. the next two weeks were dedicated to photography, and their final project for the unit had to be a small collection of photographs. animal photography, of course, was damian’s chosen subject, and the knowledge that animal photography was one of the hardest skills to master only had damian wanting to do it more. days later, however, he could admit that it was trickier than expected. how had he never noticed how active his animals were? they never sat still, and every single picture came out blurry. grayson, upon coming across him in the manor grounds, noticed his futile attempts and asked if he could help. damian acquiesced the camera to grayson, who looked through the lens, finding the right angle and background, adjusting the focus settings slightly. then, he let out a sharp whistle and snapped his fingers. in nothing short of a miracle, damian’s pets pasued to look at him, only for a second, and the shutter clicked furiously. damian flipped through the photos, a good many of them clear and wonderful. damian snapped in irritation when dick ruffled his hair and said, “now you try!” it definitely wasn’t as easy as grayson made it look.

babs didn’t really know what she was expecting when she broke up with dick. there was hurt on both ends, and distance for a while, and she had no idea how much she’d miss him. but after a couple months of working together, of remembering that underneath the romantic tangles, their friendship was strong, she’d gotten to the point of dick randomly dropping by her apartment again. the downside was, dick kept randomly dropping by her apartment again. he stole her snacks and messed up her filing system and was so irritating that barbara almost forgot how relieved she was at having one of her best friends back. fortunately, it did come with benefits, because when he was bored, he did some of her chores for her. pausing in the doorway, she smiled at the sight of dick folding her clothes and putting them away. the gesture was platonic now, but no less appreciated. she pushed her wheelchair forward, and in greeting, dick told her how much he wanted to steal all her patterned socks. babs reminded him they wouldn’t fit, and laughed at his pout. dick grabbed one sock off the top of the laundry basket, then dug his hand into the pile of clothes randomly, coming up with the second sock in an instant. folding them together, he repeated the process for each pair. “that...that was fast. you got all of them?” babs asked in confusion. “yes? why, did you expect some to be missing?” was dick’s reply as he shook the wrinkles out of a sweater.

wally was never surprised. he knew dick better than probably most people in the world. he’d gone from frustrated and jealous of dick’s random talents, to admiring and appreciative, to just accepting them as a fact of life. dick’s phone never cracked if he accidentally he dropped it. dick never buttoned up shirts wrong, aligning each button with the right hole perfectly on the first try. dick could plug in usb ports the right way. dick always remembered which light switch was for which room, no matter whose house they were at. dick could pop a cd out of its case without ever smudging the disk, holding it by the rim perfectly. and dick always seemed to know when wally needed a day off, to just visit their old haunts, grab some ice cream, and spend the day talking away on a rooftop. that was just something his best friend could do. and wally would never tell dick, but underneath his fake irritation at it, but he loved him for it.

tag list:  @comicsandhoney @birdy-bat-writes @elles-shitposts-personified @subtleappreciation @screennamealreadyused @pricetagofficial @catxsnow @astroherogirl @yesboopityboop @dangerduckjpeg

[mythiccheroacademia]

What You Fight About

part 2

A/N: just something I thought about

Headcanon: what you two would fight about the most

Warnings: toxic behaviors, yelling, cursing, angst

Midoriya Izuku:

his absence

being the number one hero is demanding

it’s also been his dream since he could remember

you understood that, but that didn’t mean it didn’t frustrate you when he’d disappear for days at a time

izuku tries to balance his job and home life

but it isn't enough

~~~

You and Izuku don’t fight much. In fact, you never really do. You’re both so compromising that disagreements rarely happen.

But when your kid is involved, that complacency slips away. Even when it comes to one another.

“I’m done talking about this.”

“Honey, why won’t you just listen to me?” he begged, but the irritation in his tone gave it more sharpness than he intended. “[S/N] doesn’t need the tutor. It’s just the teacher.”

You began to pick up the leftover toys from floor more so to expel pent up energy rather than to simply clean. You scoffed, shaking your head. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Excuse me?” Midoriya snipped. His eyes followed you as you discarded the toys and crossed your arms beside the couch, finally giving him your attention. “I think I know my own son, Y/N.”

Izuku cared so much for your child and you knew that. But that underlying message your brain processed within his words pissed you off.

“And you think I don’t?”

“I just don’t think you’re giving him enough credit.”

An incredulous laugh left your lips before they moved into a frown. “He’s failing 4th grade, Izuku. We can’t move him to a different classroom every time he gets a bad grade. At some point, we have to take responsibility! He needs the extra help!”

“You just don’t understand,” the hero muttered, running a hand through his hair.

What he said shouldn’t have set you off, but it did. Everything suddenly flooded your head. All the stress you had to deal with alone bubbled up your throat and exploded.

“No, you don’t understand!”

“Yes I do!”

“How!? You’re barely in his fucking life anyways!”

It went silent shortly after that.

The outburst felt good, but the aftermath made your squeeze with guilt. Izuku’s frown softened into shock before melting into something deeper than pain.

Once your words finally processed through your head, you immediately tried to take it back.

“Izuku, I didn’t mean that—”

“Yes you did.”

You thickly swallowed and averted your eyes to the floor. He was right. You did. You’d been wanting to say it for so long, but this wasn’t the way you planned to deliver those thoughts.

Your gaze moved back to your husband once he gathered his duffle bag and slid on his shoes.

“Baby,” you sighed, your voice much softer than before. It was almost insane how easily the anger left you. “Where are you going?”

You wilted with his next words. “I’ll stay over at the agency. To give you some space. We’ll talk more after we’ve both cooled down,” he sadly smiled.

Despite the hurt silver-lining his green eyes, Midoriya softly held your chin and kissed your forehead. Something he always did when your disagreements didn’t end on a good note. As if to reassure you that, even though he was upset, he still loved you all the same.

And that just made you feel worse.

“’Zuku—”

“Don’t worry about [S/N]. I’ll take him to school tomorrow.” He paused to look you in your eyes. “I love you, always.”

“I love you too,” you quietly resigned and watched him disappear behind the front door leaving you to let your head fall into your hands.

Bakugo Katsuki

his jealousy

bakugo is confident in many areas of his life

it’s one of his qualities that won you over

but he still had those tiny insecurities that showed up in large ways

aka losing you

and he had no idea how to handle it

~~~

The alcohol probably wasn’t a good idea considering Bakugo was already noticeably pissed on the way to the house party. But everyone assumed it was just another one of his moods he’d get over sooner or later. He wasn’t a drinker, but a beer or two usually loosened him up.

However, your friends looked at each other with worry behind the door to the room you two were in. Despite the party lights and booming stereo, they could hear the angry muffled yelling you two were doing.

You were 100% drunk, but you were 110% sure this man was telling you to stay away from your friend. Your best friend.

“If it’s one thing you have, it’s the audacity,” you sassily quipped.

“I’m not fucking playing around with you, Y/N,” Bakugo snapped with too much bite than you cared to hear. “I want you to stay away from that two-bagged eyed bastard!”

“You always do this! Shinsou’s my friend!”

The redness in his ears wasn’t only from the drinks as his nostrils flared with barely contained irritation. “Friend my ass. You didn’t see the way he was looking at you, and that fucker had the nerve to grab you in front of me!”

“He was moving me out of the way!”

“He fucking felt you up is what he did!”

You smacked your teeth, entirely done with the argument. You weren’t getting anywhere. “Now you’re just being delusional.”

Bakugo pinched the bridge of his nose and blew out in a desperate attempt to calm himself. A feat even he was surprised about considering the situation. He tried so hard to not be as explosive, to reign in his emotions, for you. But his jealousy burned hot within his veins.

“Y/N. I’m asking you, as your man, to put some distance between you and Shinsou,” he lowly warned.

Maybe it was the wrong thing to say, but the words flew out of your mouth before you could stop them. “Like hell I will. Hitoshi’s been here longer than you have by years. I’m not gonna drop him just because you feel insecure.”

That withered away any form of self-restraint Katsuki had left. He felt exposed and hurt. And dealt with that the best way he knew how.

His hazy brain clouded over with anger and he went on the defensive.

“I bet you want him.”

“What? No I don’t?”

“You’re probably sleeping with him behind my fucking back,” he dryly laughed. “Am I not good enough anymore? Is that it?”

You were quickly sobering up. “What the fuck is wrong with you!? Of course not! I’m not a cheater!”

“Then why won’t cut him off, damn it!?”

Your voices rose in volumes too high for comfort. The crackle in his palms didn’t scare you one bit, but it was enough for Kirishima and Mina to come in and try to separate you two.

You ignored their pleading and the two of your found each other in the other’s face.

“Why are you so jealous!?”

“BECAUSE HE’S TAKING YOU AWAY FROM ME!!”

“NO HE’S NOT!

“IT’S SO EASY FOR YOU TO DEFEND HIM AND PROBABLY JUST AS EASY FOR YOU TO SPREAD YOUR FUCKING LEGS—"

A resounding slap cut him short. That seemed to snap him out of whatever alcohol induced rage he was in. However, Bakugo only had a moment to register your expression of disgust before Kirishima pulled him away.

“Fuck you, asshole” was the last thing you said before Mina lead into the hallway.

Kirishima watched his friend’s breathing turn ragged with each puff.

“Come on, man. Let’s just—”

“FUCK!” Katsuki roared before throwing a nearby water bottle to the floor. He fisted his hair and clenched his teeth.

He messed up. Big time.

And as upset as he was with himself, he couldn’t help but be even angrier at the thought of who you’d run to first.

Todoroki Shouto:

how blunt he is

he was a bit socially inept and you loved him for that

but sometimes, you get frustrated

todoroki does too because 9 times out of 10 he doesn’t understand why

when you get angry, he completely shuts down bc he doesn’t know how to handle it any other way

and it didn’t help that he was petty asf

~~~

“Okay.”

You looked up and folded your lips in a tight line. It was the same monotone answer he’d been giving you all day and it was getting on your nerves.

“Sho, baby, can you at least try and act like you somewhat care about this vacation we’re planning,” you said as sweetly as possible.

Although you were annoyed, you understood that things flew over your boyfriend’s head sometimes and, hopefully, a little nudge would point him in the right direction.

“I’m listening, prince(ss),” he dimly responded.

He didn’t bother to look up from the papers he was reading at the table and it made you huff. Folding up the magazine, you just stalked your way out of the kitchen.

“You know what? Don’t even bother. I’ll do it myself.”

That made Shouto look up. His brows furrowed in confusion and he caught your hand before you could completely pass by him. Why were you suddenly upset? He told you he was listening.  

“Hey, wait. What’s wrong? Did I do something?” he asked.

You let him pull you in between his legs. He looked genuinely lost and it was enough to soften your exterior.

“I just feel like you don’t care sometimes,” you said, deciding to just be blunt.

“Huh?” he hummed. “What do you mean?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know…it just seems like you don’t have an interest in anything I have to say if it doesn’t involve hero work, your family, or something like that.”

Todoroki took offense to that. Of course he cared about what you had to say. He loved you. Just because he wasn’t gripping on to every word you spoke in mundane life didn’t mean he didn’t care.

There were ways to express his thoughts, but Shouto wasn’t always the best at gently doing it.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t agree,” he said.

You looked off to the side for a second before looking down at him. “Well that’s how I feel,” you retorted.

“I’m sorry you feel that way, but you’re wrong.”

You watched him for a moment, waiting for him to explain himself. However, he just stared back at you as if there was nothing else left to say. The silence was sickening.

You snatched your hand out his grip. “Okay, Shouto,” you bit and left.

He hadn’t heard his first name in a while.

Your boyfriend dumbly blinked already feeling more lost. He didn’t understand why you were so angry.

He called Midoriya about it and was told he was being intolerant. The entire conversation honestly made him feel like an asshole and Todoroki didn’t like that at all. So he gave you some space before finding you in the kitchen again, this time equipped to right his wrongs—even though he still wasn’t entirely sure what he did.

He called your name once and instead of responding, you just kept going about your task. That sort of miffed him, but he tried again. This time, you hummed back but the tension behind it made him feel defensive for some odd reason.

“Can we talk about this morning?”

“What? Are my feelings suddenly valid to you now?” you sarcastically replied.

Todoroki raised a sharp brow at your attitude and decided he was over it already. Here he was trying to apologize, and you were being difficult. He wouldn’t fight with you over something so insignificant.

“Fine. When you’re done with your little tantrum, we can talk about this like adults.”

You’d never spun around so quickly. “Really, Todoroki?”

Last name basis. Petty.

But he was even pettier.

“Yes, really, [L/N].”

His half-lidded bored stare made your scalp prickle.

“Fine. Me and my little tantrum are gonna go somewhere and you can plan the vacation all by yourself like the adult you are.”

“Fine. I’d probably get it done faster anyways.”

You let out an offended gasp. “Fine!”

“Fine!” he tsked, crossing his arms.

You two looked away from one another and stomped out of the room in childish anger.

[seriouslysnape]

Teacher’s Pet

__

Severus Snape x Fem! Professor! Reader

Warnings: Smut. Teacher/Student Roleplay.

Request: what about snape and a fellow teacher in a pre-established relationship, but the reader is roleplaying as a student for some fun bedroom play? maybe some funny stuff about how he’s sweeter on her than the actual students?

A/N: HNksdnasodasndk WOW I LIKE THIS ONE.

Word Count: 1,970

“I told you that you’re sweeter on me.”

__

“You’re tense, Severus.” Your gentle voice spoke out to break the silence in Severus’ home study.

The strain in his muscles caused a wince to clearly show on your expression as your hands massage at his shoulders and back. Fridays usually proved to be the hardest on Severus. The students were always much more rambunctious and much more difficult to control when they had the weekend on their consciences, much to his dismay. Students of all Houses had given him a run for his money today, even the Hufflepuffs who were usually the most well behaved were causing Severus grief. 

Cauldrons had been knocked over, potions were spilled onto the floor, glass vials were broken into tiny pieces, and heated arguments had broken out that Severus had to break up, and he had assigned at least five kids to detention.  On top of everything else, all the kids had seemed to be off the walls with excitement.

The absolute bane of Severus’ occupation.

He was disgruntled and aggravated when he returned to his home office, plopping himself behind his desk near the bed and sitting there to stew. He feared that his sour mood would cause him to snap at you and start a fight that he surely didn’t want to have.

However, he should’ve known that you’d come looking for him when he wasn’t where he was supposed to be. Professors weren’t supposed to reside outside of the castle during the school year, but Severus wanted to get away from just one night. You peeked into his bedroom with a bright grin, indicating that you had clearly had a much better day than he had. His irritation was very obvious to you, so you allowed yourself in and had rubbed his shoulders and given him sweet kisses to soothe him.

He had told you all about his terrible day, not leaving out any detail.

“Darling, I’ve been fending off obnoxious students all day. You’d be uptight as well.” He grumbled, rolling his neck to try and work out the hard knots.

A soft laugh fell from your lips, sending a rush of warmth to shoot through Severus’ heart.

“Oh, come on. They’re just kids. They were good today.” You remarked, firmly running your fingers along his arms.

“They’re always good for you,” Severus claimed; “Even my Slytherins don’t give you any trouble.” 

You moved from behind him to stand beside him, looking into his tired pools of black.

“Because I’m flexible with them. I understand how difficult things can get and I offer my help for those who need it,” You explained; “You don’t have to be their friend or anything, but you could be easier to work for.” 

Severus scoffed incredulously. That was probably the biggest difference between the two of you. You had very different views when it came to teaching. Students seemed to favor you over Severus (however, most students preferred anyone over Severus) due to your friendly nature. You were warm hearted and made sure your students knew you were available as a resource to them. They respected you as a professor and were comfortable around you as a friend.

“Maybe if you weren’t such a hard ass all the time, they might like you a little more.” You added, hiding your smirk.

Severus’ eyebrows dipped a tad, his tongue running along the inside of his cheek.

“Watch yourself. I’ll send you to detention too.” He said purely as a joke, but his body flushing with arousal when he saw your demeanor turn lustful.

“Have I been bad, Professor?” You purred, your voice going up a pitch.

The use of his work title coming from your lips was turning him on way more than he would’ve liked to admit. His pale cheeks went dark red, and his skin began to itch with desire. 

“I think you already know the answer to that.” He rumbled, sitting up a little straighter so he could touch you.

One of his hands came to peel off your long winter coat to show more of your skin that was hidden away, but his pupils blew about 3x their usual size when he saw what you were wearing underneath. It was a seemingly innocent outfit to someone who wasn’t very observant, but to Severus it was about as scandalous as he could handle.

“What are you wearing?” He asked lowly, his eyes unashamedly gawking over your chosen outfit.

It was an old uniform skirt of yours from your days at Hogwarts, adorned with your House colors and the mascot stitched in the lower left side of the skirt. It was much shorter than when you wore it as a student. You had grown taller since first wearing it and you now filled it out in a much more provocative way since you had been in your adolescent years. 

“This old thing? I just had to change before coming to see you,” You teetered, knowing good and well it was driving him wild; “You know, I think you’re much sweeter on me than your other students, Professor.”

“My other students don’t look at me the way you do. My resolve is so very thin around you,” He reminded you, his hand sliding up your leg to push the skirt past your hips. A surprised exhale of air escaped his chest when he saw you weren’t wearing anything underneath; “Not even wearing your knickers...I’m tempted to take House points away for your behavior.”

Ecstatic thrills buzzed through you that he had jumped onto your little game. You arched your back to meet his frame as his hands began to massage at your hips.

“Oh, please. Anything but that!” You mocked a desperate tone.

A hard, rutted fucking would take tension away from even the most strained of people. Severus needed a good stress release, and you knew this was a hell of a good way to do so, and have some fun while you were at it.

“Bad students have to be punished, Miss [L/N]. Actions have consequences.” He tutted.

Arousal was beginning to glisten your inner thighs, something that Severus never failed to notice. His fingertips were ice cold against your heated sex, a pitiful whimper leaving your lips when he glacially dragged his fingers through your folds.

“Surely...there’s something I can do to rectify my behavior, Professor.” You purred out in a hush of a voice.

“Are you suggesting what I think you are? You’re much worse than I thought...” Severus teased.

Severus stared at you thoughtfully when you only looked at him through batting lashes. His fingers were stilled and refusing to move despite your desperate grinds against his hand. He stood from his chair to tower over you, a rush of intimidation and desire beginning to spew through the cracks of the dam that was ready to crumble completely.

“Get on the bed.” He ordered.

You teased your lower lip with your teeth, obliging to his husky command and retreating to his large bed, sinking and sprawling yourself out on the mattress seductively. This was a damn gorgeous sight to see. He loved the way you were wriggling with anticipation and expectation for him. Your thighs were rubbing together to create even just an ounce of friction to appease the ache.

“You’re so impatient. If you’re so needy then I suppose you can get yourself of-”

“No! Please, I need you, sir,” You droned. 

He had joined you on the bed, placing a knee on either side of you to keep you from going anywhere. He watched your squirm some more while he removed his belt and pants in a painfully slow fashion. He was determined to bring you to the brink of insanity. He wanted every noise that came out of you to either be a plea or a moan. 

“I’m feeling rather generous tonight.” He fished his hard dick out of his boxers, the sight filling you with joy.

You couldn’t help but smirk up at him, rolling your hips into his pelvis casually.

“I told you that you’re sweeter on me.” You grinned.

With that statement and without missing a beat, Severus shoved all of his cock into your throbbing entrance, the dam breaking completely. A stunned cry wailed out into the room, echoing off of the walls. Severus didn’t even bother to strip you of your clothes. 

He had all the access he needed.

He gave you only a few seconds to adjust to his length before he started pounding into you. You didn’t realize just how much pent up stress and aggravation he really had until each new thrust had your eyes rolling back into your head.

You thanked your lucky stars that you were in the privacy of his home and not his quarters at school, because even with a silencing charm you were sure that it’d be blatantly obvious what was happening. You didn’t think it was possible, but he started pushing in even harder, earning him a praise.

“Oh, fuck! Severus...” You rang out, not even realizing your mistake.

He stopped completely, his hand coming up to grip your chin to make you look at him. 

“Do you call all of your professors by their first name? I probably should just leave you here for-”

“Please, no! I’m sorry, Professor Snape, just...please, don’t stop.” You yowled pathetically. 

Severus rotated his hips to find a new angle as well as putting your heel on his shoulder to push into you deeper. He started fucking into you again, almost breaking when he saw the way your eyes squinted shut.

“Such a bad girl,” He muttered out through thrusts; “Showing up to see your professor and expecting a reward.” 

You moaned out in response, your brain was too cloudy to form a verbal response. Your breasts were pushing against the thin material of your shirt, your lacy bra underneath just barely visible. He held your wrists above your head to keep them pinned down, his other hand firmly gripping your thigh draped on his shoulder.

Severus' pace and pressure was perfect, throwing you into a continuous spiral of pleasure with each delicious movement. He was sucking hard hickeys on your neck and just on the tops of your breasts, leaving marks to let the world know you were his. 

That familiar coil was hot and close to snapping at any moment. Severus twitched somewhere deep inside of you, hitting every bundle of nerves he could possibly find. It wasn’t until his ring and index finger found your clit and began rubbing firm circles that you alerted him.

“P-Professor, I’m close.” You whimpered, praying that he wasn’t going to stop now.

He didn’t stop, continuing his perfect thrusts. 

“Let go, darling. I’ve got you.” He said through a strained voice.

With a final lust driven hum, you clenched and came around him, his own release spilling into you shortly after. He filled you with everything he had with a loud groan. His recent release mixed with yours as it leaked from you onto the sheets. Severus didn’t care in the least. 

He fell next to you, breathings heavy and words feeling impossible to come by. The lust had cleared from his vision, and he was feeling much more relaxed now. 

“Are you alright, love?” He asked, pulling your skirt down to cover at least a little bit of you from the cold hair.

A sleepy, satisfied smile appeared on your face as you nodded. He captured your lips in a lazy kiss, your voice breaking it shortly after.

“I think...it’s safe to say that I’m your favorite student.” You joked.

Severus chuckled.

“Well, if you WERE a student then yes. But I’m perfectly happy with how things are.” He praised.

You giggled lightly, kissing him once more.

“Yeah. Me too.”

[kimmyyang]

210408 Zhang Zhehan's interview with Elle Magazine

"I want to be like Ah-Xu, be a gentle yet strong person."

On the day of the photoshoot, it was a rare windy day in Bei Hai. The weather forecast reported it will rain, which made everyone slightly heart-stricken. "Can we still take photos by the seaside?", "how about changing the location?", we were worrying, but fortunately it didn’t rain, only left with steer drop in temperature and roaring wind.

On the way to the photoshoot location, Zhang Zhehan recorded the sound of wind outside of the window. To be able to use the last bit of daylight before the sun sets completely, after filming, he only had one hour and a bit to go back to the hotel, have dinner, change clothes, and get his makeup done. And now, when we have done everything, he uses the time in the car to chat with the long-waited fans in the drama interactive zone.

Busy is an expected state. But when we saw him at the location, you can’t tell any trace of being busy from his face. The strong wind blew the gravels on the beach in the sky. During the interval of the photoshoot, everyone couldn’t help but complained about the cold wind and getting sand all over their faces. Only Zhang Zhehan looked more relaxed as if he came back from a different beach as us.

When we moved to the coffee shop, we finally had time to sit down and talk. He asked the staff to give him a cushion for his back, at that moment, it was probably the first time that made us realize that he is actually very tired. "It’s tough and tiring to be an actor, right?" we haven’t even finished the sentence, and he disagreed, "it’s all the same, every job is tough and tiring."

It seems that he has a big heart.

He chose to ride to Tibet with his friend for his graduation trip. Like his mum said he always has the spirit of seeking out suffering. Speaking of this journey, he said: "we’re living too happily, most families don’t have to worry about clothes and food, don’t need to go through a lot of hardships. I like what Huang Lei teacher once said, ‘people will only have faith after suffering, people will understand kindness after suffering.’ I think after seeing the suffering in the world and feel the suffering yourself - you will be kind to others."

After hearing what he said, you will realize that ‘big heart’ could have been a misunderstanding. He can’t dilute ‘sufferings’ more than others, instead, in the moments of ‘seeking out sufferings’, his feeling towards ‘sufferings’ is stronger and more abundant compared to most people.

He has a very meticulous side, he feels, understands, and hides his ‘sufferings’. Then, those experiences and feelings related to sufferings become something that is hard for others to spot on him.

He said, "when we’re going through a hardship, we can only see the hardship itself, you don’t realize that it’s actually reminding you something and teaching you something else." This is also his understanding of being mature – you can see the many sides of one thing.

‘Bruce Almighty’， ‘The Pursuit of Happyness’， ‘The Bucket List’ are his favorite movies. He said, "there’s a line from Bruce Almighty that left a deep impression – do you really hope God will give you happiness? Maybe everyone’s interpretation of happiness is different, but in the movie, the protagonist only realized it at the end, God was giving him happiness, but not the so-called happiness, God taught him the ability to gain happiness." He pressed his thumb again his chin, slightly looking down, earnestly sharing his impression of the movie.

He added, "you’re actually changing your perspective of the problem." Like what he wrote before, "being mature is being able to see the things that you couldn’t see before."

Maybe if the settling time is long enough, you will be able to stay calm in the change of tides and guard yourself in the quicksand under your feet. Speaking of popularity, he was calmer than we expected.

He said, "popularity is very important for an actor. I think it’s complementary, when you’re popular, you will receive more attention. You will be able to carry some things on your shoulders, first, it can prove that you have the ability, second, it can prove you’re acknowledged by the market."

He continued, "as actors, we also need to be acknowledged by the market. I have seen some amazing actors, they put so much effort into every character but maybe haven’t been acknowledged by the market yet, so they remain unknown. Therefore, a lot of great characters won’t fall into their hands.” It sounds cruel but it’s an undeniable fact. He added, “if you’re not popular, good scripts won’t even land in your hands."

The success of ‘Word of Honor’, to Zhang Zhehan, is like winning the lottery.

He said, "the success of a drama depends on timing, geographical and social conditions, none of these is dispensable. There are hundreds and thousands of dramas filmed each year, but in the end, there will only be one or two that everyone would love. That kind of feels like winning the lottery."

Working hard is very common, it’s nothing special, he thinks it’s unreasonable if you just use ‘working hard’ and ask why you are ‘under appreciated’. Just like how everyone praises him for being an experiential actor and praises his immersive acting. But he thinks, this is the passing line to be an actor, this is what actors are supposed to do.

He said, "if you’re an actor and you don’t experience the character, how could you portray it well, if you don’t get into the character, how could you make the character come to life?"

Working hard, experiencing, and immersing… he views them as a refined definition of actor, these are the preconditions of the lottery ticket. As for whether you can win the lottery in the end, no one can predict it. At least in his experience, he waited for 11 years for that winning lottery ticket.

After the filming ended, he wrote ‘jianghu, goodbye’ on Weibo, when the last episode aired, it was exactly 6 months after the last day of filming. His Weibo is on the setting of showing only the recent 6 months’ posts, as if it was a ‘long been destined’ farewell.

Perhaps the character Zhou Zi Shu is destined to be his. During the four months of filming, he had to gradually reveal Zhou Zi Shu’s two thousand layers of gray, he had to find him, become him, and lastly live the rest of his life for him.

Actors are probably all like this, they always must pour in their own life, emotions, and experience to make the character come to life. The process of making the character come to life means the actors get to experience life and emotions once again.

"Life is experience, you need to put some of your experiences into your characters."

Hegel mentioned in ‘Lectures on Aesthetics’ - 艺术通过供观照的形象可以缓和最酷烈的悲剧命运, 使它成为欣赏的对象。(thank you @sixteenthshen for providing the original quote!)

the specific lines zzh mentioned is bolded: If we are in a general way permitted to regard human activity in the realm of the beautiful as a liberation of the soul, as a release from constraint and restriction, in short, to consider that art does actually alleviate the most overpowering and tragic catastrophes by means of the creations it offers to our contemplation and enjoyment, it is the art of music which conducts us to the final summit of that ascent to freedom.

The reason why those so-called pains are endowed with aesthetic tension may lie in ‘being watched with pleasure’. Those most beautiful things aren’t been torn in our real lives, they become one ‘tearing performance’ after another, being shown on the stage, shown on the screen. The existence of aesthetic distance made ‘those so-called pains’ into something that can be bearable, having its own appreciation.

That so-called ‘pain’ experience comes more direct towards actors, there’s not much room for leeway. In his previous interview, he commented that Zhou Zi Shu is the most memorable character, the character that hurt him the most. Talking about ‘getting hurt’ again, he thinks that is unavoidable.

"I say that an actor has to get into the character and get out of character quickly. But when you’re acting in a happy scene, that happy feeling might last for a day or few days. When you’re acting in a sad, heart-broken scene, even you say it’s ok, it’s fine, it won’t affect me. But it will affect your mood, including your actions. When I go back to my room, I can’t help but to think about that scene, I might not be willing to go out and walk around."

"So, do you think acting is a process of wearing yourself out and wearing emotions down?"

"Of course, of course, of course, it’s wearing myself out." He said of course three times consecutively, "it’s not just wearing my emotions down, it also wears my physical strength out, wears my experience out, and a lot of my own things. So, if I want to do well in a piece of work, I can’t go into the next crew right after I have finished filming. Because you will have traces of the last piece of work, it’s actually hard to accept and get into the next character."

"I personally really like to stay in the filming crew, the reason why I said Zhou Zi Shu is great is that we couldn’t have any other work due to COVID-19 restrictions. I was in the crew for 4 months, in peace. I was looking into and experiencing the character carefully."

On the day of the interview, the Q&A part about acting was the most ‘unrestrained’. Every time we throw out a question, we would always get a powerful and resonating reply. From the perspective of a bystander, you could feel that he is the kind of person that is shining in his professional field.

At the end of every drama/ film, he would choose to leave that environment, and go out to have fun for few days. "I’m not insisting that I need to disengage from the drama/ film, I just want to relax, return to myself, return to Zhang Zhehan’s life."

"So, when you’re looking at Zhou Zi Shu again now as a viewer, do you have any different sentiment?"

"Of course, I would think of the funny parts and incidents. A lot of interesting bits that I’ve added in myself, you can see it in the character." Fortunately, as an actor, he can also feel the happiness that ordinary viewers have.

In our conversation, the words that he mentioned the most were 'gentle yet strong'.

"I really like netizens' comments that Zhou Zi Shu is gentle yet strong."

"The quality that I admire the most now is gentle yet strong."

"I feel like now I want to be like Ah-Xu, someone who is gentle yet strong."

"I want to be like Ah-Xu, become a bit gentler."

He thinks this seemingly contradictory combination is very interesting, "strong describes a person who is strong, whereas gentle is soft. These two words may seem to have no connection, but when they’re put together, it’s also a perfect connection."

"I didn’t feel this way before. I used to think people have to be strong, powerful, how can you be gentle yet strong? I think that’s something I need to learn now. This person must make everyone around them feel comfortable and think of others, but at the same time he/ she is also an individual who’s very strong and full of capabilities."

"Like water, it’s like this when it’s calm, it’s like that when it’s surging high."

He used as many hand gestures as he could as he wanted to express what’s on his mind as much as possible.

Gentle yet strong, this is what he saw, felt from Zhou Zi Shu, and it’s also the character experience he most wants to leave behind.

"Speaking of what hasn’t changed for 11 years, is that I’m still acting; speaking of changes there are a lot. All these years of experience, it became my understanding of each character, in contrast, 11 years of acting experience allowed me to learn a lot from my characters."

To him, every big or small character he had in the past 11 years is a mutual encounter, he gave something to the characters, and the characters also left him with something.

Those who have seen his acting praise him that he truly understands Zhou Zi Shu, so we asked how he could stand in the perspective of Zhou Zi Shu to understand his words and actions. He doesn’t think that it was understanding, it just naturally happened.

"I didn’t deliberately try to understand him, I think what he did was just following his heart, that’s how I feel, so that’s how it should be. I would ask if it was myself, can I do that? Is it acceptable? If I think it’s ok, then it’s right. If I think it’s unacceptable, I will definitely tell the director - 'I don’t want to act this way.'"

"I read another book today, the main idea is the most important thing for people is to know themselves. Know yourself, know what kind of person you are, then you will know the world. You need to learn how to reconcile with yourself, learn how to communicate with yourself, tell yourself when you need to keep going, when to compromise, when you need to understand, when you need to be strong… you need to keep being yourself and convince yourself at certain times."

Meeting Zhou Zi Shu, to Zhang Zhehan is also the process of meeting and knowing himself. "But I’m probably not as mighty as Zhou Zi Shu," he laughed.

He thinks that he’s not at the age of looking back, the things that have happened, just let them go. "There’s nothing to remember in particular, there’s nothing memorable. And my occupation, a lot of people will remember for you, they will remember your good, remember your various moments, so I don’t need to remember. What I need to do now is to live well, my current life, future life, and get into the next role."

"When I can’t act anymore, I think I will look back more."

Now, he wants to challenge a new area, "I really want to act in movies, act in more movies. 40 episodes of acting and 2 hours of acting are different, condensed acting is the quintessence. I still need to learn how to act well in the 2 hours."

And "I hope I can be a director one day."

The beautiful scenery in spring is as deep and wide as the sea, it’s fortunate that we get to meet.

"My occupation, many people will remember every moment of yours."

"Immerse into my next character, and live well - that's what I need to do now. "

Translation by: KIMMYYANG

[expectingtofly]

First Day Jitters

established dean/cas, toddler!jack, dramatic parenting

1.7k

written for day 4 of @smiledean and @chocolatecakecas's follower celebration || prompt: baby!jack

“Say cheese.”

“CHEESE!” Jack beamed at the camera and Dean snapped a photo. Gripping his backpack straps, Jack twirled around as Dean lowered his phone. The school yard was already filling up with other kids Jack’s age, ready for their first day of school.

“Wait, take one of us together,” Cas said, crouching down by Jack. Jack threw his arms around Cas’ neck, nearly making him lose his balance. They both smiled at the camera, twin grins, and Dean couldn’t help a smile as he took their photo.

“Kindergarten!” Jack yelled as he released his grip on Cas.

“Alright, dude, remember,” Dean said, pocketing his phone. “No yelling in class.”

“And no powers,” Sam spoke up. “Most important rule of all.”

Jack nodded solemnly. “And if anyone picks on you…” Dean looked at him expectantly.

“Hit first, ask questions later!”

Cas rubbed at his forehead. “Dean, we’ve talked about this.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Tell us and we’ll beat them up for you.”

“Okay,” Jack said, kicking at loose gravel with his cowboy boots. He had picked out his outfit himself—boots with bee socks, jeans with sunflower patches, and a blue t-shirt with a green brontosaurus. Complete with a Barbie backpack, his outfit was truly… colorful. A lot for the eyes to handle at once.

Teachers milled around outside, and Cas said, “There’s Jack’s teacher.” He waved and she made a pained smile before quickly looking away.

Dean stifled a laugh at Cas’ hurt expression. “Guess we didn’t make the best first impression at Back to School night.”

“Who woulda known asking to lay out salt lines wouldn’t make you any friends,” Sam deadpanned.

“I still think we should’ve warded the school,” Dean protested.

“We’re trying to not get kicked out,” Sam shot back.

“Hey!” Jack said, getting their attention. He balled up his fists on his hips. “No fighting! This is an exciting day!”

“Yes, it is,” Cas agreed, giving them a pointed look. “And we are very excited for you.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Dean said, holding up his hands. A bell rang and a teacher opened the door to the school. “Think it’s time to go.”

Jack turned to watch the rush of kids to the school, his backpack nearly as large as he was. Had the school building always towered over him like that? Dean wondered.

“Exciting day,” Jack said to himself, sounding less sure.

“Hey,” Sam said, crouching by his side. “You’re gonna have fun, okay?”

Jack looked back at them and Dean nodded. “We’ll be waiting for you when school’s over.”

Jack took a deep breath, then smiled. “Okay.” He gave them all one last hug, and Dean couldn’t resist smoothing out his hair and checking the straps on his backpack.

When Jack let go of Cas, Cas grabbed his hand, holding tight. “You’ll pray to me, right? If anything happens?” Jack nodded, tugging a little to get away.

Cas held on. “And you’ll remember everything to tell us when you get home?”

“Yes, Dada.” He tugged again and Cas let him go.

Dean watched him run to join the kids lining up at the doors. The teachers counted them, and Jack started chattering with the boy standing in front of him wearing a dinosaur backpack.

“Fuck,” Dean swore under his breath, feeling his eyes prickle as the teachers started leading the kids inside. Jack skipped his way to the door, his backpack bouncing behind him. Right before he disappeared inside, he turned and waved.

Dean hastily blinked and swallowed hard, waving back.

The doors closed behind the kids and the yard was reduced to silence.

“Now what?” Cas asked, staring at the doors.

“Now we leave and don’t stalk the school,” Sam said. He grinned, looking at Dean. “Are you crying?”

“Shut up,” Dean said, wiping at his eyes brusquely. They started for their cars, though he couldn’t help looking back. Third window on the righthand side, second floor. Jack’s classroom. He’d cased the school last week, learned the exits and entrances. Still, standing outside, he felt helpless.

“Shit—he had his lunchbox, right?” he asked, hand pausing on the Impala’s driver's door. “And his pencil case, and—”

“You checked his backpack three times this morning,” Cas reminded him. “He has everything.”

“Right, right..."

“See you guys later for dinner?” Sam asked, heading to his own car.

“See ya then,” Dean agreed, getting in the driver’s seat. He paused before putting the key in the ignition, though, eyes drawn to the school doors.

“He’s going to do great,” Cas said, sounding a little too much like he was trying to convince himself.

Dean nodded. Jack had done great in preschool and they had spent all summer preparing him for the transition into kindergarten. Not that Jack needed much convincing to go. He loved school; it was more Dean and Cas who needed time to adjust to the idea.

A sniff drew his eyes to Cas, who was wiping at his eyes.

“Fuck, not you too,” Dean complained, feeling his own eyes well up again.

“His carseat,” Cas said simply, and Dean glanced at the backseat where Jack’s empty carseat sat.

“Shit,” he muttered, sinking in his seat and rubbing his eyes. “Thought we were pros at this after a year of preschool.”

“Guess not,” Cas said. He produced a tissue box out of thin air and handed one to Dean, then blew his own nose.

“Alright, enough,” Dean said, swiping at his nose and balling up the tissue. “Enough crying. He’s going to kindergarten, not off to war.”

Cas nodded and determined, Dean pulled out of the parking lot. He and Cas had taken the day off, which in hindsight was the wrong move because now they had too much time on their hands. Trying to distract themselves with errands didn’t help either because everything suddenly reminded them of Jack.

They went to the local gardening center, where Cas stroked the daisy petals with a soft look in his eyes. “I should buy some for Jack.”

And then the bakery: “We gotta have snacks when he comes home,” Dean told Cas, selecting a dozen donuts.

And, stopping at the street taco food truck downtown: “Jack’s eating lunch now,” Cas said, checking the time, the mournful look on his face not matching the delicious taco in his hand. “And then recess.”

“Hope he’s made friends,” Dean said, his own taco suddenly tasting flavorless.

“He will. He’s very friendly.” One tear dripped into his guacamole.

“For fuck’s sake,” Dean said, gathering up the remainders of his food. “Come on.”

The school yard was alive with kids yelling, laughing, swinging, playing hopscotch, and skipping rope. Dean idled close to the curb, scanning the yard through the fence. He was well aware that he and Cas looked extremely suspicious now, but he hoped the school parking pass hanging from the rearview mirror helped prove they weren't creeps. Just overly protective parents. Which was only a bit better.

“There he is!” Cas said, pointing out his window. Dean leaned over him to see Jack jumping over a hopscotch chalk drawing. One foot, two feet, one foot, two. Reaching the end, another kid high-fived him and Jack beamed. He cheered as someone else went through the course, then, the game abandoned, Jack ran with the others to the swings.

He swung higher and higher, cowboy boots kicking into the air. Dean was pretty sure he could hear his laughter rising above everyone else’s.

“We’re being stupid,” Dean realized. Cas looked at him. “He’s fine. He’s doing great. We don’t have to worry, we just gotta let him do his thing.”

Cas looked back at Jack, then took a deep breath. “You’re right.” The bell rang and Jack slowed his swing, jumped off, and joined the kids headed inside.

Determinedly facing forward, Cas said, “Alright. He’s got this.”

“We got this,” Dean amended, and Cas smiled.

“We got this.”

***

“DAD!” Jack ran full force to Dean, crashing against his legs. Before Dean could recover, Jack turned to Cas, who crouched down and took him into his arms, nearly getting knocked down in the process. He held onto him tightly, shutting his eyes as he buried his face into Jack’s shoulder.

“I missed you,” he said.

“I missed you too,” Jack said, extricating himself from his grip to hold up a slightly crinkled piece of paper. “I drew a brontosaurus!”

“That’s beautiful, Jack,” Cas said, admiring the drawing. “That’s going on the fridge.”

“Had a good day?” Dean asked. Around them, other kids streamed out of the school to waiting parents, and Jack nodded enthusiastically.

“The best!” He took Cas’ offered hand and told them about his day as they walked to the Impala. True to his word, he had remembered every detail, down to the amount of times he used the bathroom and the name of the lunch lady.

“And I got to swing at recess!” he told them, clambering into his carseat.

Dean and Cas caught each others’ eyes guiltily over the Impala’s roof. “I’m glad you had so much fun,” Cas told Jack, buckling him in.

“Thanks.” He swung his legs as they got into the front seat. “Did you have a good day?”

Cas glanced at Dean. There were plenty ways to answer that question. Looking back, though, seeing Jack bravely walking into school, being so independent, making friends…

"Missed you, but we managed,” Dean answered truthfully.

Cas smiled at Dean before twisting around to look at Jack. “We’re proud of you, Jack,” he told him, and Dean nodded.

“Did you cry?” Jack asked, eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Sam said you were going to cry. I didn’t cry.”

“Just a little,” Cas admitted. Dean snorted and Cas elbowed him. “Dean more than me.”

“Hey!” Dean protested.

Jack cackled. “I knew it!”

Dean shook his head, muttering about murdering Sam. Jack continued his recap of the day, and Dean resigned himself to getting stuck in after-school traffic for the next twenty minutes.

Leaning back in his seat, he grinned at Jack stumbling over his words in his excitement to share them. It was a good day.

[fairyoftbz]

aquaphobia | k. sunwoo

(n.) : an irrational or disproportionate fear of water, especially anxiety in deep water or when submerging one's face in water.

🌊 pairing: shy! sunwoo x fem! swimming teacher! reader 🌊 word count: 4.6k 🌊 genre: slight angst, fluff, mentions of suggestive themes at the end. 🌊 tw: aquaphobia, mention of claustrophobia and agoraphobia 🌊 synopsis: a young man approaches you while you give children swimming lessons. you’re far from expecting what he asked you. 🌊 a/n: happy birthday sunwoo! ❣ seeing him so scared of going underwater broke my heart, so i had to write about it! miss swimming so it felt so nice to write something like this!! i hope it’s any good and enjoy! 

╰☆☆☆☆╮

Hands resting on your hips with the whistle in your mouth ready to blow, your eyes followed the children you were teaching to swim, walking at their pace on the side of the pool. Some parents were sitting in the cafeteria, watching you doubtingly and judgmentally from their seats, nervously sipping on their coffee as they were scared of the safety of their kids. They probably hadn't expected you to be this young, but your lifesaving and diving credentials could prove them otherwise.

You inhaled and blew your whistle, the children picking up the pace, making you squint as their feet tapped harder on the surface of the water, splashing it everywhere. You glanced at the clock on the wall and whistled again, ordering them to stop, before repeating this twice until they arrived at the other end of the pool.

"Alright kids, we'll end there for today," you paused your stopwatch, giving them a little time to catch their breath and get a grip onto the edge of the pool with their little hands.

"You're going to swim one last lap, starting in pairs. Once the first pair gets to the other end, two more will leave, etcetera, etcetera," you explained while gesturing everything under the watchful eyes of the parents. Smiling at some to reassuring them, you focused back on your students and calmed down the nervousness creeping in your veins under the parents' watch.  "On your mark... Go!" you yelled, the first pair starting to swim. You kept the whistle close to your lips and followed them with your gaze, clapping your hands to encourage them. 

You helped them out of the pool after everyone had finished the activity, the children scampering towards their parents. You waved with a smile to the few people who greeted and thanked you for your work, and you began to put away the different things used for the class.

"Hum, excuse me?" a voice coming from behind startled you, letting go of the pair of fins you had in hand. "Yes?" you replied in an uncertain voice, still surprised at the young man in front of you.

“I saw you training children just now. Do you happen to teach adults as well?" The question seemed to bother him, but he regained confidence when he saw the kindness and the smile on your face. "Classes are for everyone, no matter how young or old you are," you smiled, and he nodded before briefly looking to the side to escape your gaze. "A-Are you interested?" You dared to ask, and he blinked several times, taken aback by the question. "Let's say… how to put it," he started, and you nodded encouragingly, a smile forming on your lips.

“There is no shame in wanting to take lessons, even the biggest swimmers began with those." "No! This is… it's not it. I actually can't swim,” he confessed in a whisper, and your eyes widened briefly before picking up your towel that was lying on the stack of floats. “It's okay, you know. It's good that you want to experience this new sport," you tried to cheer him on, but it seemed like something was wrong, his gaze didn't light up when you accepted his request. "There’s no rush, I'll give you time to think. But if you want to take the plunge, you can sign up at the pool reception," you beamed, and he nodded another time, thanking you for giving him time.

A few days later, while you were having a coffee next to Sangyeon, your best friend - which was also the volunteering pool lifeguard - the young man who had come to talk to you at the end of class reappeared, a lost and anguished look painted on his face.

“Ah, looks like your first student of the day has arrived,” you laughed as you handed him your cup of coffee, opening your lifeguard jacket before walking down the first few steps to the main pool where the young man was eyeing the water, his face growing livid. "Ew, your coffee is disgusting, it's too sweet," Sangyeon put the mug back on the table with a disgusted look, his grimace making you burst out laughing. "Nobody forced you to drink it though," Sangyeon rushed over to a bottle of water and opened it, lightly waving at you as you started your day.

"Sunwoo, right?" The young man got startled as you announced yourself, causing him to turn around quickly, nodding. "Y-yes, it's me," he put his towel on his bag, and you nodded, setting your belongings next to his. "Good. I'm Y/N, and I'll be your teacher until we reach your goals, okay?" You started to walk towards the small stairs that went into the pool, but Sunwoo stayed on the first step with his feet in the water, muscles visibly clenched. You looked at him with furrowed brows, glancing briefly at Sangyeon in his cabin, who was also looking at you with furrowed brows.

Sunwoo fiddled with his hands, his index finger scratching the skin around his thumb. You could see in the side of his neck that his heart was pounding, and immediately understood what was wrong.

You then got out of the pool and put a hand on his shoulder, leading him back to his belongings. How do you get him to explain the situation without scaring or triggering him? His breathing was jerky and panting, your presence not reassuring him at all.

"Sunwoo? Sunwoo, look at me, please," You pressed your hand further onto his shoulder to force him to look at you, trying to make the young man understand that you didn't mean any harm to him. "Can you tell me what's going on? Are you afraid of water?" You asked in a whisper, and he swallowed hard, giving you a clue that you had hit a nerve.

“You know, it's not a shame to be afraid. Your fear is as acceptable as someone afraid of heights or confined spaces. Just because it's a tad bit less common doesn't mean it's less valid," Sunwoo nodded, your heart skipping a beat when his eyes swelled up with tears. "Do you want to postpone-" "No. No, I want to try," you nodded at his shaky words, relieved that he had built up the courage to overcome his fear. "It's-it's just that..." "You don't need to tell me the reason you're scared, that's none of my business. But simply tell me what scares you, so we can work on-" "I'm afraid to drown," he cut you, and you looked at him, encouraging him to continue, "I almost kicked the bucket once and ever since… I'm afraid of going back in the water. It can be the sea, a lake, a swimming pool, I hate it all." You nodded and stood up, motioning for him to follow you.

"We've already moved forward, you told me the reason for your fear, we can take the problem step by step. Now, would you feel reassured to have the lifeguard by the pool? He's my best friend, and he was a coast guard before he moved to come here, so he can save people in any condition," you suggested while pointing at Sangyeon, the latter standing up immediately. Sunwoo shook his head, and your friend sat back down, giving you a knowing smile that he would come down at any sign from you. "Great, then. Let’s try to get into the water, shall we?” You extended your hand, which he took without hesitation, squeezing your palm tightly. 

You helped him take deep breaths to calm his pulse and train of thoughts, feeling his hand gradually loosen from yours as you encouraged and reassured him. You walked down the second step of the stairs, and he followed you, swallowing hard as you congratulated and cheered him on again.

"Take the time you want, even if you have to spend the session here, it's fine, okay?" He joined you on the third step, water now above mid-thighs, his hand tightening around yours. "It's alright Sunwoo, I'm here. You're okay, we'll get there eventually. Look at me, please," his firmly shut eyes relaxed, and he blinked several times, sighing as he wanted to cheer himself up. "Remember to breathe deeply and clear your thoughts. And if you feel like stopping, tell me, and we’ll do something else," his eyes never left yours, as if he were caught in a trance. A slight smile decorated your face, your eyes filled with kindness acting like a tranquilliser on his heart.

You looked away from Sunwoo for a brief moment to look at your best friend, who gave you a thumbs up with a big smile from his cabin, encouraging you to be the good teacher you were.

"Are you doing fine?" You asked in a soft voice, and he nodded, jaw clenched. The poor boy. You didn't know what had happened to him, but you truly could see that behind his brown eyes laid years of the trauma he had never been able to heal. "Y-yes, I think so," he whispered, taking a deep breath. "Good job. Do you want to try the fourth step, or should we wait for the next lesson?" You asked as you walked down the second to last step, not letting go of your student's clammy hand. You saw his foot hesitate above the step, but he took a step back, then another, letting go of your hand to take refuge on the first step. At least there was something positive, he hadn't run out of the pool completely.

"I-I am sorry," he whispered, and you stepped out of the water too, the wet part of your swimsuit sticking to your skin. "It's okay, Sunwoo. You've made some good progress already," you comforted him with a smile he barely surrendered in return. “It all takes time. Remember, it's better to take small steps than nothing at all." He nodded, but you could tell he wasn't listening to you, a veil of anxiety appearing in his eyes. "See you next week then!" you put your jacket back on, leaving him sitting next to his bag. "Thank you, Y/N," an unconvinced smile spread across his face. You gently pat him on the shoulder before heading back to your best friend, who was standing up to watch the young man you left behind.

"His distress makes me so sad," you said with a sigh, sitting in your best friend's unoccupied chair. Your gaze fell on Sunwoo again, who was staring at the ground as if he were drained of all the energy he had in him. "But I'm sure you'll be able to get him to overcome his fear," Sangyeon was leaning against the window of his cabin, the soft crackle of the radio occupying the silence. “I'm not as confident as you are, but I'll try."

The more Sunwoo came to the pool, the more anxious he seemed, despite making some progress from the previous lesson. He now knew how to stay in the water, all alone where he was, without having to hold onto you or the side of the pool, but it took several weeks of hard work. He still had that panicked look on his face, but he seemed to have mastered that part of his phobia. Sunwoo even confessed to you that he had tried taking one or two baths, which was a big step forward on his part.

"And? How did it feel being in the bath?" “It was weird… I felt a bit uncomfortable, but the hot water felt good. I even wanted to try to put my head underwater, but I didn't have the courage." “Do not forget what I keep telling you over and over, small steps. There's no point in wanting to go too fast, plus you were all alone. One misstep and we can start all over again, so be careful,” you took on a more severe tone to make him understand that he shouldn't let himself be overwhelmed by a sudden rush of confidence, at the risk of losing all the progress you've made so far.

"Do you want to try to float on your back?" He took his gaze away at your suggestion, his eyes moving all over the place as if he were looking for an escape. 

He knew you were only suggesting an activity, but he couldn't help but create horrible scenarios in his head. Sunwoo was reassuring himself as best he could: he had researched you on the swimming pool website, as well as your university, and he had come back more confident than the last time. The sight of all your life-guarding and swimming diplomas featured in the pool staff description reassured him and made you completely trustworthy in the young man's eyes.

"I'm going to ask you to move back, and you bring out your abdomen. Think you want to show everyone how great your abs are,” you explained, and he chuckled through his nose while nodding, dimples appearing on the side of his mouth. You slightly pulled him a little further from the edge, but still close enough in case he panicked. "Remember that you can always set your foot on the ground or grab the pool edge if you don't feel like doing it anymore," he agreed, and you moved closer to him, slipping an arm through the middle of his back to accompany him. 

He had his eyes closed, and he was shakily controlling his breathing, a flinch seized him as his head touched the surface of the water, but he kept going nonetheless.

"You can do it Sunwoo, I believe in you," you whispered, and he nodded weakly, feeling your arm behind his thighs, holding him to the surface. 

He stayed a moment, but he felt a wave of anxiety crash onto him, his heartbeat echoing violently in his ears not helping him to calm down. He opened his eyes, struck dumb with fear, but you caught his gaze instantly. He managed to make out encouraging words coming out of your mouth despite the thickness of the water.

"I'm here, don't worry, I got you, Sunwoo, I got you," you repeated the words over and over to engrave them in his memory, his phobia unfortunately still present despite your ongoing efforts. You moved closer to the edge and rested your knee against the wall, still maintaining Sunwoo on the surface of the water, allowing him to hang onto the edge to feel safe.

"I'm never going to make it," he whispered, rubbing his face, putting his foot on the ground. "No, Sunwoo, it's not the time to let your fear take over and make you give up. Not after all these efforts.You have to pull yourself together and overcome your fear." You let go of him and replaced your hair behind your neck, observing your student. "Easier said than done." He spat involuntarily, his anxiety speaking for him. "I know it's hard, I know it, and I see it, but I'm sure you can do it." "How can you be confident of something so uncertain? What tells you I'm gonna get there?” Sunwoo slightly raised his voice, the frustration flooding his veins. 

"Because you are ready to face your fear! Look at yourself, you came of your own free will to the pool to take lessons, which means you want to progress. If you wanted to remain so fearful of the water and drowning, you wouldn't even have made the effort to get here, let alone be in the water with me. I know it is hard, everyone has a phobia, but you have to be patient and allow time to do what it needs to do. I also have a phobia. I am afraid of confined spaces, elevators, and large crowds. Being stuck on the subway with hundreds of other people always feels like I'm going to suffocate or getting crushed to death. It's a different phobia, but it's just as valid as yours," Sunwoo sighed and folded his arms over his chest, listening wearily.

"Okay Sunwoo, I think we're going to stop there for today," you gave him a slight smile which he didn't answer, lost in thought.

You didn't understand. Yet he was on the right track, making progress, but he was now on the verge of giving up everything. How could you make him enjoy swimming and water again?

This question ran through your mind for the rest of the day, your hand gripping the bar of the subway train as you patiently travelled home. Music at full volume in headphones, you tried to create a safe bubble around you to forget the situation you currently were in. As if talking about it this morning with Sunwoo had triggered something for it to happen.

The subway stopped at a fairly popular station, your eyes widening as you noticed the mass of people who were waiting to climb into the train. You squeezed the bar even tighter, your fingers turning white as the doors opened. Closing your eyes, you internally cursed yourself for not waiting for your best friend to finish his shift. You took a deep breath, now feeling the distress Sunwoo experienced when he was in the water. This feeling of suffocation and helplessness in the face of this fear was starting to take over your whole body. You lowered your head to look at the ground to avoid meeting all eyes and the bodies around you. Chills ran through your spine, and your throat tightened, making your breathing, and swallowing a struggle.

You opened your eyes when a hand grabbed your free one, turning your head sharply to the right as fear rose your heart to your throat. Your grip on the bar slightly relaxed as you recognised Sunwoo beside you, holding your hand as tight as he did when he stepped into the water during your first class. You were ready to cry, but you gritted your teeth, looking away as you felt your eyes fill with tears. Sunwoo shuffled around you, a few people groaning as the coach was packed. He managed to make his way to the automatic doors, where he guided you to the window so that you could focus on something other than the mass surrounding you. His hands were on both sides of your head for him to stand upright, subconsciously creating space for you to have enough room to breathe a little easier.

"Thank you," you whispered, and he smiled compassionately, understanding your distress. He moved closer to you to whisper in your ear, his action making your heart skip a beat. "You did it for me at the pool, I don't see why I shouldn't do it for you on the subway," he wiped a tear away with his thumb and weakly smiled as you fidgeted with your hands. 

The more your classes continued, the closer you got with your student, the subway event from a few weeks ago having acted as a trigger. Sunwoo understood that you were on his side, that you weren't doing this because you wanted to make money or because you had to. He felt that you genuinely wanted to help him surmount his fear, just as much as he wanted to help you with yours. 

Outside of lectures and meetings, you would start spending time together over coffee or chatting, sensing that a friendship was forming. Sunwoo was a very gentle guy, passionate about music and dancing, activities that had helped to drown out his trauma and move on. He was very talented, his ears turning red despite his beanie when you watched his dancing and rapping performances on his phone at a cafe.

___

You took a break from training for a while, you and Sunwoo having to focus on your studies. Despite your part-time job at the pool, you also had a degree to achieve, and it was by far the easiest. You were in law school with Sangyeon, and your student happened to be in biology in a building a few feet from yours. You didn't have time to spend time together. Sangyeon, his girlfriend and you almost lived in each other's house, studying together for your final exams.

Once that affliction was over, you could finally relax, and for both of you, that meant jumping into an Olympic-size pool and swimming laps until you could no longer be able to move. When swimming was your stress reliever, Sangyeon and his girlfriend had some spicy intercourses that allowed them to get rid of the built-up pressure together. Since they were not as tensed as you, Sangyeon gave up earlier than you, wrapping himself in his towel before sitting down to watch you swim.

As you were getting rid of all your frustration and exam stress by pounding your feet in the water, a familiar face appeared from the changing rooms as you lifted your head to breathe. You briefly smiled before putting your head back under the water and swinging your arms above your head, waving your pelvis before repeating the movements.

"Nice to see you here, Sunwoo," you said, stopping at the end of your lap with a smile on your face, lifting your goggles. He sat by the pool and dipped his feet in the water, looking at you with a smirk. "I was bored now that the exams are over, so I thought I could drop by and see you," you placed a hand to your heart, acting fake touched by his words. You started swimming again as not to lose your energy nor the rhythm you had managed to keep after a few laps.

Sunwoo watched you go to the other end of the pool, your movements and form hypnotising him. He desired to become as graceful and comfortable in the water as you were, but he still had a long way to go. You got introduced to swimming as soon as you could walk, your parents wanting to pass on their passion to you.

The lifeguard gently smacked Sunwoo's shoulder and winked to greet him while he was leaving. Your student nodded while shifting his attention back to you, who was coming back to finish your training. Putting a tried hand against the edge of the pool, you grabbed the bottle of water before taking a few gulps as you caught your breath. A sudden, swift movement surprised you, your eyes widening as you saw Sunwoo's figure dive above your head, coming back to the surface with a smile on his face. He laughed when you choked and spat out the water you had in your mouth, shocked at his sudden, magical progress.

"Sunwoo, what the fuck! You were still hesitant to put your head underwater the last time we saw each other! What happened?" You yelled in confusion as you approached the young man, who smiled and ran a hand through his wet hair to get a better look at you. "I… lied. I took classes with Sangyeon while you were studying. I wanted to give you a nice surprise at the end of the exams…" you shook your head, scoffing, slightly offended at the amazing progress he had made with Sangyeon, as you followed him for months. "You made more progress with my best friend in a few weeks than with me in several months," you said, and he chuckled, a big smile on his face. 

Were you doing something wrong?

Sunwoo saw your slightly crestfallen face and moved closer to grab hold of your forearm. You looked at him sideways for long seconds, finally smiling when you saw the teasing look that decorated his eyes.

"You did most of the work, Sangyeon just took the opportunity to show me other things." “Obviously. That fucker always does what’s the easiest. He certainly isn't going to bother to get his hands dirty," Sunwoo laughed at your statement, noting that this wasn't probably the first time your best friend's done this to you. You sighed and instantly lifted your head as your friend took off your swim cap and brushed the baby hair out of your face. "I wouldn't think twice if all of this had to happen again. I would take lessons behind your back with Sangyeon if I had to, again, because nothing can replace the surprise that shone in your eyes when you saw me dive. It was priceless,” you rolled your eyes and looked away, Sunwoo's fingers grabbed your chin to make you look at him in the eyes. 

Not only did Sangyeon teach him how to swim, but now he's a huge flirt! Where did the shy guy that was terrified of water go?

"Whatever," you retorted, and he arched an eyebrow. "Oh. You don't believe me?" "Not so much, no. It sounds like a crappy plan any-" a soft source of warmth rushed to your face, feeling pressure against your lips, allowing you only milliseconds of what was currently happening. 

Sunwoo's arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you to his slender body. One hand running around your curves to come to rest on your cheek, cradling it tenderly, contrasting with the fervour of the kiss you were exchanging. Pressing your hands against his chest after making out for a few minutes, his lips left yours, leaving you both breathless, the workout you had just done not helping you in this situation.

"I wanted to confess to you another way, but you talk too much, I had to do something to make you quiet," you pat him gently on the forearm, laughing, a wave of embarrassment seizing your body. "You're done? Can I start swimming again?" You changed the subject, and Sunwoo smirked, leaning against the wall of the pool. 

The rays of sun hitting the water gave his skin a luminous complexion, his beautiful eyes turning a lighter shade of chocolate brown as he looked at you with a thin, satisfied smirk. He watched you silently, his eyes unrestrainedly longing for your lips. You moved closer to him and planted your eyes in his, finding their dark colour again. He grabbed your cap and threw it behind him, landing near your bag so you couldn’t go back to swimming.

"If I was mean I'd press your head underwater, but I don't want to ruin our efforts, so you better run fast," you threatened him, but he didn't move an inch, always watching you with a teasing look as his elbows rested on the edge of the pool. He cleared his throat and stared at you, a new sparkle lightning his eyes.

“Sangyeon told me about a technique that helps reduce stress well, tested and approved by him and his partner. Do you want to give it a try?" You quirked an eyebrow and your tongue poked the inner part of your cheek, rolling your eyes before staring at him, moving closer to his ear. "I'll meet you in the showers, you better be good if you don’t want me to kick your ass," you said, and he hoisted himself out of the water in no time.

“Noted,” he started and went on one knee to near his face with yours, “teacher,” he winked and threw your towel around his neck before confidently walking towards the showers, sending you an explicit wink as you scoffed at his behaviour, shaking your head as you rushed out of the pool. 

What has Sangyeon done to your student…

[soobadnoonecanstopher]

Touch it for Real, Part 5

Genre: Humor / Fluff / Eventual Smut

Warnings: OMG they were roommates / slice of life / slow burn / mutual pining / crude humor / cursing / virgin!baek / idiots to lovers / mention of feet

Characters: Baekhyun X You/Female Reader

Description: You teach Baekhyun how to date. (Basically the Get You Alone M/V)

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5, Part 6

Baekhyun was trembling. His hands were actually shaking so much each time he tried to type into the keyboard of his phone he hit the wrong letters and the typos rendered his message impossible for even the autocorrect to guess what he was trying to say.

“Just — ugh — just give me a regular keyboard for fuck’s sake,” he was grumbling to himself, “my hands wont stop shaking. I can’t. I can’t do this.”

He tossed the phone with force away from him and it landed face down on the carpet across the living room.

“No. I refuse,” he was staring over at the phone on the floor with a shell shocked aura about him, “just forget it. I’ve changed my mind. I can’t. I won’t!”

You’d given him a homework assignment an hour ago.

Ask a girl out on a date.

He’d been sitting on this sofa with his phone in his hands, writing, deleting, rewriting and deleting, again and again, into the text message conversation he had going with Mia.

It had been going pretty well with Mia actually. You’d been handing him the reins more and more and you both celebrated together with a single glass of wine the night he’d had his first actual phone conversation with her. Baekhyun was a lightweight and usually refused to drink more than a few sips of alcohol but he’d gone for the chilled bottle in the fridge and poured it into two glasses and handed one of them to you and lifted his own into the air. He did not wait for you to acknowledge his toast though. He just downed the contents of his glass with a wince on his face in a single go, slammed the empty glass down onto the counter roughly and stormed out of the kitchen toward his bedroom. You sipped your glass and counted it as a shared celebration.

His phone call lasted for 3 minutes and 32 seconds and he managed to tell one awkward joke that elicited audible laughter from the girl. You knew because you sat on the couch beside him with your ear pulled up as close to the phone as you could manage, trying to hear everything that happened. You’d let him know you were here to intervene if something went wrong but honestly you were sure he would do well on his own. And honestly, he was about to do well on his own, despite how awkward and very nervous his voice was.

They had gotten past the introductions at least twice when he briefly forgot what came after “hello” and simply said it a second time. She at least said it twice too and the awkward pause that came after that went on for too long when you held up the index card in your hand and pointed with your finger to the question you had written down.

“Uhh...so h-how...umm...how are — I mean, what are you up to?”

You couldn't make out her response, but whatever she said pulled an interested hum from the back of his throat and he made a quick witted remark that had her giggling in response.

You could definitely make out the sounds of her laughter and you could instantly see the change on his face when it happened. You saw the brightness form inside his eyes and he turned to look at you with a surprised expression as he lifted a finger to point at the phone he held in his hand.

His eyes were wide with something in between amazement and panic and he mouthed the words ‘she’s laughing’ at you and you nodded enthusiastically in response.

Unfortunately a few seconds after the joke he accidentally dropped the phone and it took a wild bounce, landing somewhere under the couch. He couldn’t find it for two whole minutes and when he finally found it, he made up some excuse about having to go because he smelled something burning.

He stared at the phone until the screen turned black and he didn’t move when you rubbed a soothing hand over his back.

“That went pretty good,” you offered. Baekhyun grunted and turned toward the kitchen for the celebratory toast.

Since that night, (you know the one) you’d intentionally taken on a more supportive teacher role in this project. You vowed to keep yourself involved as much as he needed and you swore you could keep your own selfishness from impeding his progress. The way you had been acting had been unfair and he was too good to you for him to deserve anything less than your very best.

You had made a promise to Baekhyun and then you made a promise to yourself to follow through on that promise. You would move Heaven and Earth to help him reach his goal because he deserved it and seeing him happy would be enough to get you through anything that came your way.

You were fine.

No really, you were completely fine.

He was moaning.

You sat on the couch beside him with your foot propped up on the coffee table as you carefully applied the second coat of polish to your toenails. You’d become quite the expert at applying polish to your nails during bumpy situations. Sitting next to the man who flailed and squirmed beside you on this sofa was commonplace and simply no big deal.

You could probably do this during an earthquake.

His moaning turned into much louder moaning and he threw himself back onto the arm of the couch dramatically and in protest of the unfairness of your assignment.

“Buuuug,” he whined through his nose, drawing it out like a little kid.

You’d just finished your pinky toe when his foot pushed up against your thigh.

Your aim was quick and you reached over and grabbed his foot by the heel as you pivoted in place.

“Be still,” you said calmly and you held his foot in place as you applied the bright red polish to his big toenail. You often did his toes to match your own because it made his toes look adorable and he wore socks everywhere he went anyway so he didn’t mind what you did to amuse yourself.

You moved quickly, dabbing carefully over each of his nails until they were all painted to match yours. You blew air over them to dry them, being thankful you’d invested in the 60 second polish.

“Buuu-hu-hu-hu-uuug,” he moaned harder, wiggling his hips into the fit he was throwing and closing his eyes to sell you on the absolute anguish he was in. “Bug, I just don't think I can do it. Can we do something else? I don't even know what to do on a date. What if she says no? Oh god, what if she says yes, I’m going to puke. Do you want to see me puke? Because I am going to puke.”

You tapped a hand lightly over the top of his finished foot and pointed to the other one and after a few moments he shifted, giving in to what you asked for right away.

But good lord, he was dramatic. The whining and the moaning intensified just when you thought you couldn't stand another volume increase he raised his voice into a shout and put actual words to his protests. Your ears were already ringing and you could feel your substantial patience — really, you were on a level with a Buddhist monk after two years living with this — beginning to shake.

“I mean, if I asked you to teach me how to swim would you chuck me into the ocean on the first day?”

You forced your focus down on his other foot, getting the polish smooth and perfect with each stroke. He had gone quiet after his question to you and you bit down on your lip as you carefully pondered the words he was saying. The last thing you wanted was to make him so uncomfortable he was unable to go about his daily life. You didn't need this project to become a source of heartache for the man.

You were not an unreasonable person. Perhaps this really had been too big of a step for him to take without having even practiced under the careful instruction of a teacher.

He’d waited in silence for you to answer for only a few seconds and when you didn’t; because you were thinking about it, dammit, he threw his whole head back and his mouth opened up and he wailed into the ceiling above his head at an even more annoying volume than you thought was possible. This was new and shocking. It was deafening. Surely the neighbors would think someone was being butchered in here.

The awful sounds were coming straight from his diaphragm. The man had power in those pipes and he was going to destroy your ear drums in order to get his way. It went on and on, changing from a moaning, groaning large-dog-with-a-bellyache sound into what you imagined it might sound like inside of an echo chamber trapped with a big sad whale, the biggest ones they made, who also happened to be on fire. He was giving you everything he had now. This was full volume and it was horrible.

“Alright!” You shouted over the wretched screaming, “Alright fine! For the love of God, Baekhyun!” You said for emphasis and the incredible relief of silence flooded and cleansed your ear drums that still vibrated from the after effects of all of that noise.

He lifted his head and closed up his mouth instantly and his eyes were wide as he cautiously watched and waited for what you would say next.

“Do you want me to teach you? Do you think you can practice with me so you learn how to do it before you have to do it for real, on your own? That’s what you mean right? You want more instruction before I throw your ass into the ocean?”

His lips were situated down into a fierce pout now and he nodded his head twice; a big ol’ up and down.

You were irked now. No amount of pathetic pouting on that face could pull you back from the edge. Even the slow careful nod of his head was just an obvious attempt at winning you over with cuteness. Well, it wouldn't work. If anyone was capable of annoying someone to death, it was this man right here and he came very close just now.

“New assignment,” you said with your finger raised and he pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth and pushed his top lip forward as he inflated his cheeks into round balloons. He sat up straighter and he waited for you to speak.

“Since I am a woman,” you began with your finger still raised and waving in his direction. His eyes glanced down at it, “you may ask me out on a date, for practice. And if I say yes, we will then—”

Your pointed finger was joined by your whole hand as you opened it up and you waved it through the air twice, a visual representation of cause and effect of such a situation. His eyeballs followed every movement you made, looking at the hand that moved instead of at you, the actual speaker.

His eyes popped up into yours when he registered the words you were saying; the requirements of his new assignment.

“...we will then — well, we will..”

Your words were sticking. He was listening very closely and he’d released the air trapped in his mouth and his lips now hung open as his eyes occasionally followed the waving of your hand in front of his face. It was silly how shifty his focus was when your hand moved in front of him.

“We...will…” he said and his face moved, mirroring the movements of your hand as he tried best to understand the new task you were trying so hard to assign to him, even repeating your words to help you get the next ones out.

“We will go on a date. A real one. A practice date. You will have to take me on a date, Baekhyun. You’ll just have to .. do your best at it.”

“A date? I’ll have to,” he said with a flinching, squinting blink of his eyes, “...do my best?”

“Yes, of course,” you said as you pointed your finger at him again, pulling a swift but deep gasp into your lungs to fight the dizziness you could feel building inside your head, “It’s an assignment. Like school. I will give you a grade on how well you do. If you fail, then it’s over and I’m a terrible teacher and clearly your problems are beyond my area of expertise.”

His polish was dry. This conversation needed to be over because you were weirdly agitated by the wide eyed, deer in the headlights expression stuck on his face.

“I’ll send you some study materials later. You better take this seriously, Byun Baekhyun. This is a real assignment from your real dating teacher.”

The entire situation made you anxious. The desire to flee was very strong. You needed a getaway and you needed it now. You felt a tremble inside that could only be attributed to just how freaked out he had been acting. It was rubbing off on you.

You wanted to make a quick escape but you were now fighting with the many bottles of nail polish scattered across the coffee table; you’d gone through so many of them as you decided on which color to use — they really were just numerous and just everywhere. You grasped at them, trying to grab huge handfuls at one time but your hands couldn't hold as many as you wanted and each attempt sent a bottle or two clattering noisily to the table below. It was really ruining the dramatically cool exit you were trying for.

After quite a bit of noise you felt the warmth of Baekhyun’s arm as he leaned against you and began to help you pick up the bottles; carefully placing each in it’s designated spot in your huge nail polish organizer.

It took a bit of effort for you to turn to look at him and when his fingertips carefully placed the final bottle in the case you clicked the lid closed and finally managed to face him.

His eyes were flighty. His face was flushed and when he met your eyes the smile on his lips was very tense. It looked like a grimace.

You had to be insane to be doing this. Willingly putting yourself into a situation like this with him, a situation that was for instructional purposes only, but a situation nonetheless. Your heart was racing inside of your chest and you briefly wondered if he could hear it with him sitting so close to you.

You swallowed it away, the nerves or the uncertainty or whatever it was that had taken hold of your hands and made them unstable and you turned to look into his face head on.

“Do you understand the assignment?”

Baekhyun filled his lungs with air and straightened his shoulders, pulling them back as his eyes closed up. You recognized the self calming behavior. When he turned to look at you he held a new determination in his eyes and he nodded his head and furrowed his eyebrows.

“I was always a good student,” he said, “I will do my best with this assignment. I’ll take it seriously, so I can learn from you well.”

You reached forward and patted the back of his hand lightly and offered a reassuring smile.

“Don't be too nervous, okay? Remember it’s for class so you should learn from it. Mistakes are natural and they help us grow. And you won’t have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable. I mean it.”

He swallowed and his lips flattened out into a thin line across his face. His head bobbed up and down and he hummed out a response that told you that yes, he did know what was expected of him for the sake of the lesson; for the sake of his future as an adult man who was entering the dating pool in search of the companionship of some lucky lady.

“Also remember, it’s just me. No pressure. Okay, Peanut? I’m here to help you. You could spill an entire cup of iced tea down my dress at dinner and I would still forgive you.”

“No pressure,” he repeated under his breath and when you were finally satisfied that he really understood, you stood, hefting your manicure supplies up with both hands and you stepped away from the living room to return them to your bathroom.

“Do I have a deadline?” He called after you and you turned back with your hand on the doorknob to your room, quietly amused by the seriousness you saw on his face. At the same time, proud of what a good student he was. He was a smart boy, he would do well in anything he was determined to do.

“Ask me out by tomorrow or else Ben might beat you to it.”

You figured a little sense of competition couldn't hurt. And yes, you were still actually speaking regularly with Ben. You were pleasantly surprised with how smart and how funny he turned out to be and he turned out to be a pretty good distraction for the evenings when you’d normally be bored and hanging around in Baekhyun’s room while he played some game on his PC and he’s toss you a remote for the screen that hung up on the wall above his head. You’d play music videos, or cooking videos from YouTube, or some drama or variety shows and he’d play his games and lean far back in his chair watching the screen when exciting things happened on screen.

A few times lately though, when you went into his room you’d find him watching some anime and you just knew he’d want to pay close attention so he could discuss it later with Mia. You’d much rather find someone to entertain you alone so you didn’t have to be ignored or shushed when you interrupted his anime with some stupid question about it, like who is that guy with the crazy eyes and why is he trying to kill everybody. Ben’s conversations were good enough to keep you occupied at least a little bit.

Back in your bedroom you got to work searching for materials for Baekhyun to study. Mostly using helpful YouTube videos with titles such as “how to ask a girl out”, “what to talk about on a first date” and a super helpful online book you found called The Gentleman’s Guide: How to be the Perfect Date. It was just a little outdated with the styles but the book was extensive and ran the gamut from hygiene to manners to confidence and conversation; it even had an entire section called The Art of Subtle Seduction and it made you just a little embarrassed to think of Baekhyun reading this part. He was an adult. He could handle this much. The Dos and Don'ts of a First Date section alone was worth the price you paid for the book.

You wrote up an email with your course materials and sent it off to the man.

Then you sat and waited alone in your bedroom until your level of boredom that in any other situation would be unremarkable, when combined with the built up anticipation inside of you, mixed into a perfect storm of swirling lunacy that was bouncing around inside of you; trying to break free and wreak havoc on something other than your chest walls.

You grabbed your cell phone, slipped by the 2 waiting text messages from Ben that you would absolutely get to later, and opened a new text message to Baekhyun.

‘peanut did you get my email ^^?’

You were sure he did. Of course he did. You wondered if there was anything he found lacking in the pages and pages of super helpful information you sent him. You wondered what he thought about it all and maybe if he needed some guidance or suggestions on how to proceed with the first step of his assignment. Did he need you to come over to his bedroom and watch the videos with him? Would that be too awkward?

Your phone vibrated.

‘yep’

He would ask for help if he needed it, you were certain. He would be fine. This wasn’t real anyway. It wasn’t like there was an actual deadline, not really. You enjoyed talking with Ben but it didn’t seem like he was close to asking you out yet. He had been a bit busy lately and you had been busy as well with work and with helping Baekhyun.

You’d seen from the notification preview on your phone that Ben’s last two messages were asking you something that would take a while to explain and you didn’t want to open them yet in case he’d been expecting you to reply quickly. You needed a bit more time to come up with an answer for the questions he had casually asked about your roommate. You’d tell Ben that Baekhyun was, yes, a guy. And no, it wasn’t awkward living with a man.

You’d get to all that later. Now, you were entirely too keyed up about a problem of your very own creation.

When.

But really...

When?

You could not relax. Because honestly it could happen at any moment. He could come barging into your room, plop his ass down unceremoniously on your bed and say “Hey Doll, hows about you and me go on a hot date this weekend, what about it? Nyeeahhh?” Like some sort of 1940s gangster. You could definitely see Baekhyun doing this accent. You were pretty sure he had a 40s gangster hat in his closet.

You’d decided that you wouldn't give him a hard time about how he asked you. You’d accept right away for the sake of his nerves, if he worked up the courage to ask you at all, then he was on the right track and he deserved an E for effort.

You still had trouble with the anticipation. Not knowing when was the hardest part to handle. You tried your very best to go about your day in as normal a way possible. Sure, you jumped every time you heard a sound, but other than that, it felt like any other day.

He spent the rest of the evening in his room and didn't even come out until you heard the doorbell ring. You peaked your head out of your bedroom door and waited for him to answer it but after a few minutes with no sight of him you stepped out. The doorbell rang a second time and you rushed from your room to answer it before the visitor gave up.

It could have been something important. This building had a doorman so it was usually someone who had a purpose ringing the bell.

The view through the camera monitor showed a run of the mill pizza delivery man, and you remembered that it was Baekhyun’s turn to make dinner tonight. He must have ordered you a pizza so he could hide in his room all night and not have to worry about walking around you in the kitchen and not asking you out on a date.

This was his way of avoiding you for the night.

You had to swallow down the flash of silly disappointment that popped up. You’d assumed correctly that he had already paid for the pizza and you received your cardboard box of loneliness with a polite smile for the weirdly cheerful delivery kid.

You gave a quick glance at the label in the front of the box to check for forbidden toppings just in case he’d forgotten who he was avoiding tonight and put something weird on it like corn and mayo or hot peppers.  

The label had four lines of ingredients listed, the first said ‘xtra cheese’ and each additional one after that said ‘xtra cheese.’ Nothing else, just ‘xtra cheese’ listed four times in succession.

What in the world?

You briefly considered a malfunction of the pizza shop’s label maker, but boy was this thing heavy. Did he sneeze while selecting toppings and accidentally hit the option four times?

You set the monster down on the counter and lifted the lid. It was steaming hot despite the trip in the car and up the elevators to your door and as soon as you opened it you noticed the odd appearance of the inside lid.

There was a message handwritten with black marker inside of the lid.

Your stomach leapt up into your throat as you recognized what this was. The message started with the word Bug.

You had to cover your mouth to get through this.

Bug,

I know this is really, really, really, really cheesy, but will you go out on a date with me this Saturday?

Knock thrice on my door for yes.

-Peanut

P.S. Did I beat Ben?

You had to hang your head to contain it. You wanted to scream. Giggles actually burst out of your mouth before you could stop them. You were highly amused. Actually reallly fucking impressed and goddammit you felt a genuine flutter of butterflies inside of your stomach. How was he this clever? He had always been very silly and good at thinking of the most ridiculous scenarios to get things done, but wow. When you lifted the lid once more to read his message again your mind spun with the logistics of that man in that bedroom sneakily ordering this thing from a real pizza shop that was probably a block from your home.

Did he call them and explain the situation? Did all of the employees gather around, chanting ‘More cheese! Give the man more cheese!’ As they loaded this pizza up with what looked to be a full inch of melted cheese on top? It compromised the edges of the crust and flowed over the cardboard below. It was absolutely ridiculous and nearly inedible too.

Did they giggle at the pet names you called each other as they selected the employee with the best handwriting to relay his message?

You were buzzing again. This time it was pride. He was brilliant at everything he put his mind to and this was clearly no exception. He would do so well in his life.

You left the kitchen and made your way toward his closed bedroom door. As you came close you heard a very soft thud; wooden door hitting wooden door frame. The movement was hardly noticeable but you could see a slow turn of the doorknob too. He probably thought he was sneaky.

You lifted your closed fist and quietly hit three times against his door and after exactly ten seconds you heard the squeak of his doorknob turning and his bedroom door opened up an inch.

You saw a single brown eyeball peeping at you through the opening.

“I’ll text you the details later,” he whispered and the door closed up again before you could respond.

The details came by text message a day later, just as he promised. It was a Thursday afternoon when your phone buzzed and you’d just put the final touches on your data entry work for the day, running it through a spell checker for mistakes as you always did. You’d expected to hear from Ben by now, he said he had something to go straighten out at the bank. He’d taken it well, finding out that your roommate was a man around your age, and he didn’t even ask too many prodding questions about him.

The message was from Baekhyun with the time he would ‘arrive’ to pick you up on Saturday and he gave you sparse details about what he actually had planned; just a quick note at the end that he would be wearing a suit. You figured this was a hint for you to dress up as well.

Was Baekhyun taking you some place fancy? Your curiosity was positively burning and Baekhyun had been acting super weird around you lately.

Whenever you’d come into a room he was already occupying he would make up some excuse why he had to leave it and vanish inside his room to carry on with his highly secretive behavior. Whenever you went into his room he would spin in his chair toward the door with what you were positive was a caught red handed look on his face. It was like you had just caught him watching porn, only you’d caught glimpses of his screen before he quickly hit a keyboard command to clear out the screen and you didn't see a single boob.

After the first time, you’d made it a point to barge into his room often, just to see the surprised look on his face; you did it all for that gasp of air, the frantic fingers of panic on the keyboard, and the trembling hand over his chest as he clutched his pearls. All you caught flashes of were just regular looking websites. Regular text and regular pictures. You saw some blues, you saw some greens. You definitely didn't see the incriminating black and yellow theme of everyone’s favorite adult website. There was nary a penetrative moan to be heard through his speakers. The entire thing brought you great joy. The man was acting so odd and honestly he was getting your hopes up for a fantastically mind blowing date on Saturday. You’d already picked out your dress, heels, and jewelry and had been having a very hard time tolerating the ever so tedious passage of time.

By the time Saturday rolled around you were a wreck of nerves; though you weren’t exactly sure why you were so anxious. It was probably his recent fretting and obsessive preparations that had rubbed off on you. You’d decided to take it easier on him today. He’d obviously been working very hard on this assignment once given the dangling carrot of a good grade to be awarded at the end and if there was one thing you knew about Baekhyun, it was how much he strived to achieve perfection in his academic performance. You’d provided the materials. He’d obviously been studying and go-time was quickly approaching.

You took your time getting ready, soaking in your bathtub to kill some of the dull waiting hours before he was due to pick you up. By the time you were scrubbed, rinsed, shaved, moisturized, plucked, preened, coiffed, and scented to your satisfaction, you had only a half an hour to slip up the straps on the fancy fitted cocktail dress and check your reflection in the full length mirror. It was fitted and had a deep plunging neckline. It accentuated the best parts of your figure and the high slit that landed over your upper thigh showed just enough skin to make you feel sexy.

With your heels you were ready to go; feeling about as pretty as you had in a long while. The silliest little fantasy swam through your head as you spun in front of the mirror and it brought just a little warmth to your cheeks as you allowed it to play out. The idea that he would find you so lovely, so irresistible, that even the iron willed man with his self control like a steel trap would lose himself in the slow blinks of your lashes and drown in the pools of your eyes for just one night.

When you lightly slapped a palm over your cheek, it was to ground yourself. This was fake. Everything that happened tonight would be the result of careful calculations and applications of behaviors modeled in text books that he had studied all week long. It was a date with Baekhyun, but it wouldn't really be an accurate representation of the Baekhyun that you know so well.

You knew he would follow a script. He would perform as a perfect gentleman and you would play along, knowing that when he brought you home you would get a gentle hug and a thanks for sharing your knowledge with him and you would close your bedroom door and he would return to his bedroom door and life as you know it would simply fall back into place as it should remain unchanged for however long it took for you to get back on your feet, perhaps get a place of your own not too far away from him; although this neighborhood was very expensive, you’d settle for one or two subways stops away if it meant you could visit your best friend often and see him living out the life he deserved with someone who was worthy of his love.

Tonight, you will enjoy. But you would not allow your emotions to betray your rational mind. You would enjoy it and then it would be over and Baekhyun would have the skill set to ask out Mia, or whoever else he set his mind on asking out.

Your quiet self assurance was interrupted by two soft knocks on your bedroom door and your hands were trembling as you grabbed your handbag that had your cell phone, a tube of lipstick for touch-ups and a few just in case items you were always taught to carry with you, you know, just in case.

You’d reached the door and swung it open with a beaming smile on your face.

Your date was here. Baekhyun was here. It was Peanut.

A smile that quickly transformed into what you were sure was a gaping opening in your face resembling some aquatic animal and you found yourself gazing upon, frankly, an expertly styled exquisitely handsome real life man, who was wearing Byun Baekhyun’s face and smile.

Despite seeing him standing before you with your own two eyes, your brain was having trouble reconciling the two; your harmless roommate and the man who stood before you wearing a crisp suit jacket that he filled out shockingly well, a fashionable collarless dress shirt that looked like it came from some fancy boutique from downtown, fitted dress slacks that you tried your best not to linger on for too long, and were his shoes Italian? You were pretty sure they were Italian. More than just the clothes, his hair was different. He’d gone and had something done to his hair! Lord, you saw slight waves and a deliberate styling by an expert hand with just a bit of his forehead visible. Oh he looked so lovely with this hair style.

You remembered to close your mouth, but only after the realization dawning on you that he hadn’t said anything to you as you silently admired how beautiful he looked standing in his fancy suit looking like at least a million bucks.

You knew...you knew he was an attractive man. You’d have plenty of glimpses of it again and again, freshly reminded of it during that photo shoot late that night. You’d even known he worked out and had had plenty of chances to ogle the muscles on his arms and chest when he just woke up and would wander out shirtless for a drink of water. You knew that the entire shape of this man was the kind of handsome that you had to make conscious decisions to ignore. You’d forced yourself to look away plenty of times in the past. Still, the Baekhyun who stood here today, the one who had his lips parted as he stared into your eyes now after what you were certain was a head to toe, slow as hell, full body appreciation of all of your preparations to get ready for tonight, this Baekhyun was, for lack of a better word, he was sexy as all hell.

For the first time since you began this project; these lessons in dating, you felt like you might actually be in some sort of trouble.

Baekhyun spoke at last and it was the softest whisper. He said your name. Not Bug, not stupid or dummy or stinky which he called you sometimes even though you knew, you fucking knew you always smelled amazing. You went out of your way to smell great. The sound of your name on his voice softened the shock in your face and you felt a smile pull at your lips.

And so you smiled at him and watched the slow but complete smile that manifested on his pretty face.  

“Hi,” he said with a blink of his bright eyes.

“Hi Baek,” you said. Your heart was racing.

He pivoted on his (Italian!) shoes and extended a bent elbow toward you and you slipped a hand around his arm.

He was doing so well. Each step you took through your shared home felt new. You had a hard time keeping from watching the side of his face and each glance you made was greeted with the light touch of his eyes as he met your eyes with his own.

Moments blurred. He ticked all the boxes, of course. He opened your door, closed it quietly behind you once you were inside. Even helped you with the seatbelt, much to the dismay of your racing heartbeat when he reached over to pull the red strap across you, careful to keep his hands well away from touching any of your actual body as he did it. The true devastation hit you when, all closed up inside the dark car in the silent moments before he started the engine and the intoxicating smell of him reached your nose.

This was a new smell. Baekhyun had gone to the salon, gone shopping for expensive new clothes, and was also wearing what had to be the best smelling cologne you had ever experienced in person.

“You smell really good,” you said without looking at him and your fingers fidgeted with the strap of your handbag to keep your mind working.

“So do you,” he said followed by an inhale that you were certain sounded just a little thready and he was steering the car through lanes and turns of a parking garage to exit the building.

His destination was the kind of fancy dream-like restaurant that you saw only in movies. The sun would be setting soon and you were led to a rooftop terrace with a view over the city and a single table set for two. You followed the pleasantly clean woman and lingering just behind you, Baekhyun silently fell behind one or two steps. A glance behind woke him up from whatever daze he’d fallen into and he closed the distance with two larger steps and a shy smile on his lips.

The waitstaff worked like ninjas. Glasses were refilled as if by magic and course after course of delicious food appeared before you as you watched the sunset over the horizon and when the light faded enough, the soft glow of twinkle lights illuminated the view around you.

The dinner was delicious and the scenery was breathtaking and that alone would have given him full marks for such a lovely evening out, but Byun Baekhyun was proving to be an overachiever as he started to talk to you. He was asking you open-ended questions, pulling conversation easily from you and you found yourself giggling and laughing as he joked in response or told you some funny anecdotes from his childhood that he knew you would love.

By the time dessert arrived you were pretty certain you were drunk despite half of the wine that remained back in your glass. Baekhyun, ever the stickler for vehicle safety had stuck to soft drinks and when he excused himself for the restrooms, you waited patiently under the glowing lights as you daydreamed about the genuine brightness you were certain you saw in his smiles. Had the twinkle in his eyes been just a reflection of this place? Everything about him tonight felt so real. You’d read through the same book he read through and you couldn’t recall him using a single recycled phrase or conversation point during dinner.

Maybe he was just that good of a student.

A noise startled you from behind and you jumped when a single red rose was laid on the table in front of you.

A rose. Baekhyun had brought you back a rose from somewhere; maybe he stole it from the elaborate flower arrangements you passed on the way in.

“Where did you get this?” You mused as you smelled his sweet offering and he shrugged and tugged at the top button of his shirt, undoing it and slipping slim fingers down to undo the second button as well. Your eyes watched the action and weirdly the fragrance from the rose smelled sweeter than the first time you smelled it.

“I just had it,” he said cryptically with another charming and blinding smile.  

“Ready to go? We have one more place to visit.”

The next place he took you was even more magical than the fancy restaurant. The parking lot was nearly empty and when he opened your door he was fussing around with a small bag in the backseat of his car.  He pulled out a pair of black ballet flats and you watched in awe as the man actually kneeled down on the pavement in front of you to carefully slip your heels off of your feet and slip on the comfortable shoes.  

While they did not look anywhere near as sexy as the heels did, you instantly understood the need for a change.

Baekhyun had brought you to an aquarium with what looked like miles and miles of indoor and outdoor paths to walk through with tunnels traveling through the biggest tanks of aquatic sea life you’d ever seen.

You were instantly hypnotized by the deep sea exhibits that seemed to take you for miles and miles below the surface of the ocean where the sea life grew weirder and the lighting grew darker and dimmer the further down you traveled. Here at depths difficult to wrap your brain around the fish and sea creatures have adapted to freezing waters and a bleak existence without any light at all. Many had their own light sources. The bioluminescent exhibits sparkled and twinkled like the stars in the sky out in the country. You saw entire universes all around you.

Baekhyun was as enraptured as you were and spent his time carefully reading each exhibit’s information card out loud as he stared with his mouth open in awe at the different creatures. There were hundreds of different species of fishes, beautiful ones and downright creepy ugly things from the very bottom of the oceans; endangered species too; the sleepy eyes of the sea turtles were your favorites and the impressions Baekhyun made of their swimming faces made you cackle with laughter. Bright lights illuminated meters of corals of all shapes, sizes, and colors, and you honestly felt like you’d entered another planet when you both walked into the jellyfish halls.

They glowed and flowed, bounced and danced, and moved like a dream. You found yourself hypnotized as you stared at the biggest tank full of them for long enough for Baekhyun to make three circles around waiting for you to follow him out of this room so he could go see the sharks.  

You knew the sharks were coming. You’d had a look at the map. And while you didn't necessarily dislike them, their huge sizes and razor sharp teeth always gave you the heebie-jeebies. The jellies were just so comfortable to look at and so relaxing.

It took some coaxing from Baekhyun, and maybe even a little tiny push at the back of your shoulders to get your feet to move and you lingered a bit long in the dark hallway that connects the two exhibits.

You just felt that maybe, the sharks could wait just a little bit longer to meet you.

He’d noticed right away and you opened up your eyes that you’d closed up for a little relaxing session when you felt the tips of his fingers running along the palm of your hand.

He gripped lightly at first, and then shifted your hand within his and he began walking forward in that dark hallway with you trailing behind him.

Baekhyun touched you sometimes. This was something that he did, on occasion. During a scary movie when you’d jumped too many times, or when you both walked through a crowded place and he didn't want you to wander off, he would occasionally hold your hand.  This wasn’t something new to you.

However your heart was beating hard in your chest and the warmth of his hand coupled with the firmness with which he held you felt so damn nice you were having trouble focusing on anything else except for your own shallow breathing and racing heartbeat — and his hand holding yours.

Sharks swam at a gentle languid pace. Clearly at ease and very well fed here in their homes, there didn't seem to be very much murder and feasting happening at all. Hammerheads, tiger sharks, something uglier than any other creature you had ever seen that came from The Midnight Zone of the deepest parts and with each creature that swam overhead, or beside you, or creeped up from somewhere behind you, Baekhyun would turn to face you and take two or three steps backwards as he pulled you through it, your hand held securely inside of his. He would smile at you that debilitating smile, and tilt his head and call you a scary cat or a big baby and you would laugh and roll your eyes and deny that you were even a little bit scared of anything at all.

All was going well. You were very well taken care of and felt very secure inside this tiny tunnel at the bottom fo the ocean and you’d noticed this time when Baekhyun had turned around to look at you with a bright smile that smile wavered just a touch and his eyes seemed to focus on something that was coming up from behind.

Your curiosity got the better of you and you turned to see what he saw.

Baekhyun moved quickly then, moving both of his hands up to reach for your face he pulled your head forward and moved his own face close to yours. You felt the warmth of his forehead lean against yours for a moment and you could not see around or behind you with his hands placed so carefully on the sides of your head like this.

You knew what it was. It had to be something huge and terrifying, maybe even something with fresh blood still on it’s teeth. A Great White. The giant monster from the movie Jaws that you had watched with him once not realizing just how scary it would be and you spent most of the film curled up under his arm wincing at the horrors you saw on the screen.

“Hey Peanut,” you said softly while looking up close into his eyes. He was so close you could feel the warmth of his breath on your face. His smell, that new smell of his smelled even better this close to his skin.

“Hey LoveBug,” he said with a gentle smile and you knew based on the use of this carefully reserved nickname for emergencies that it was exactly as you had feared. A Great White, chomping on the remains of the cutest crying baby penguin. The fluffiest one with its whole life ahead of it.

Baekhyun was safe though. Baekhyun was warm and he was here to protect you. You would be okay, you knew it.

“Is it gone yet?” You asked after what felt like the average time for a fish that size to swim away and you noticed something. It was a look, just a glance. Baekhyun’s eyes floated a bit and the warm breath you felt coming from him was delivered in quicker puffs through his parted lips.

When he licked his lips, you could not help it, your eyes caught the motion as his tongue ran over his bottom lip and left wetness behind and by the time you realized what you had done — where you had looked — you had already done it, your stubborn eyes had already looked and in your mind a vivid replay was happening. You felt too much. This was too much. This was supposed to be fake. Why did he have to smell so fucking good and why was he so aware of every tiny detail about you he knew when something would overwhelm you and ruin your mood, so he used his own body to shield you from it and protect you. You cautiously pulled your eyes back up only to find him blinking too fast and he was dropping his hands from your face as he took a step back and away from the stifling closeness.

You were dizzy. You felt it all over. Your heart was racing and the warmth you felt traveling through your body sent waves through you. You had to rub lightly over your forearms to smooth out the goosebumps and Baekhyun was no longer facing you, but was staring off into the literal depths of the cold black ocean and you took a while to recover enough to walk by him toward the exit of the aquarium and back into the darkened city streets you knew as the real world.

The walk back to the car was quiet and had an odd flavor about it. You both could feel the end coming. It had been a wonderful date. You’d spent hours, just the two of you talking and laughing and exploring literally new worlds you hadn’t before experienced. You felt a sudden but definite melancholy to see the fancy circles that made up the logo of his car.  

“Hey, you want to take a walk?” Baekhyun’s voice halted your steps and you turned back to see him standing with a hand in his pocket, fidgeting in hidden, likely with the key fob to his car, and a new sort of nervous flush on his cheeks that you hadn’t seen since he first showed up at your bedroom door looking like a dashing Prince Charming ready to sweep you off your feet.

“Sure,” you said, meaning every bit of it and secretly extremely thankful that this evening wasn’t over yet.

The walk was peaceful. It was a bit chilly tonight and you didn’t even resist when you felt the warmth of the coat jacket he placed over your shoulders. You thought you’d become used to the smell of him by now, but clearly you were incapable of ever getting used to his smell.

The streets were mostly empty now that the night had grown stale and you walked side by side passing various touristy shops that had long since closed up for the evening. Ahead you could see a small street side cafe that sold warm teas and coffees and Baekhyun was pulling out his wallet before you even had the chance to look at him with hopeful delight all over your face. He ordered two hot coffees and you danced and celebrated when he handed the first one to you.

It warmed you from the inside and you paid no mind to the smudges of lipstick all over the white lid of your cup. The hot drink made you happy and you could see your breath like a dragon in the chilly night air around you. Each puff made Baekhyun smile and when he’d taken a particularly big drink from his cup he pulled his head back and puffed out three perfectly formed rings of warm air into the color air above his head. The rings grew and then faded quickly but you were so excited to see his trick that you made him do it again and again until he was puffing and out of breath  and laughing too much for any more cool rings to form. This man was full of secrets. Absolutely full of them!

The night was winding on. You could feel the lateness in your limbs and you’d long since finished your drinks and dropped your paper cups into a street side trash can. Your feet, you found were protesting. It wasn’t that they ached or hurt or anything like that. You weren't even that tired. You were just having trouble with the idea of this ending and the night being over.

Everything had to end eventually. You didn't even pout at all when he pulled open your door. You just climbed in and sat down, fastening your own seatbelt this time with a sense of finality looming in your mind along with a wagging finger that quietly scolded you for letting your guard down during this date.

The drive back home was quiet. He didn't even turn on the radio and even though he drove with one hand, he held his other hand firm atop his thigh.

The small touches and stolen glances were over. The date was over. He had done very well. You were thoroughly swept off your feet and his grade would be an A+. You would go back to your room and go to sleep and tomorrow morning when you woke up you’d find him back to his usual antics and maybe, maybe you’d even get him to ask Mia out on a date.

You swallowed the dryness in your throat and the familiar landmarks outside your apartment building called you back home. Baekhyun pulled into the parking garage and you did not wait for him to round the hood of the car to reach your door, you simply opened it yourself and pushed through it.

Baekhyun did well. You had given him a task and he’d done it. He deserved all the praise and recognition for a job well done. He’d taken it seriously just as he said he would. This dark mood that had suddenly come over you could not show. You shouldn’t do this to him.

You cared for him too much to ruin this sweet evening.

You loved him too much. This quiet secret usually echoed around inside of your heart and you winced to hear it peaking it’s way up into your running thoughts.

The apartment was dark and you walked through it easily, knowing exactly where you could walk without bumping into anything and he didn’t turn on any lights as he walked closely behind you. He hadn’t said anything to you on the drive home, nor did he speak right now as he walked you back to your bedroom door where he had picked you up.

You turned to face him now. You pushed a smile up to your lips and his face was mostly in the darkness, barely lit with the city lights from the window.  

“Thank you for a lovely evening, Baekhyun. It was perfect. You were perfect. Seriously, you are amazing.”

You leaned before he did and you felt the staggered response from his limbs as he wrapped both of his arms around your shoulders for the hug.

“Thank you for coming with me tonight,” he whispered against your ear and when you pulled out of the hug, your small smile was not returned. You could see enough of his face to see that he did not smile at you now.

Your hand was on your door and you turned and stepped inside, thankful that you had left your small table lamp on. The room was warm and inviting and you closed the door behind you with a soft click that sounded exactly like clapperboard snapped to signal the end of a movie scene. You could almost hear a director somewhere yelling cut. Everybody clapped for the job well done. All the actors could now go home. It was over.

Your shoes were off. You’d pulled off the earrings and had taken off your necklace and the delicate tennis bracelet’s clasp was so tiny you had to try a few times to get it open so you could take it off.

When you reached up to slip the strap of your dress off your shoulders a tiny sound interrupted you. It was almost like a knocking, but it was so soft you had to listen carefully to hear if it repeated again.

It did not, but you could not shake that feeling that it had happened and out of genuine curiosity you walked across your bedroom and pulled your bedroom door open.

Someone was there; Baekhyun was there, standing in nearly the exact same position as he had been, wearing the same clothes. The only difference was the sight mess to his hair and the definite pink shade you saw on his face even in the dim lighting from the windows.

“Peanut?” You couldn’t imagine what this was. He was finished. The assignment was finished and he had done perfectly, you’d said so already...but, his eyes. You caught that same look that you’d seen on him many times before. It was a look of hard determination that propelled him forward when he dove into some new and difficult project he had to master. If you had to give it a name, you’d call it his passion. The passion he had inside of him to do things right. To be perfect.

“I said I would take it seriously,” he said in a well controlled voice and you shook your head, not understanding what he meant. Did he have some regrets about how the night went? Did he feel that he had somehow failed to live up to the requirements you’d set forth for him as his teacher?

“The date, I told you I would.” He wasn't clarifying anything with his words.

It was then that he moved.

His hands were up and Baekhyun took a step closer to where you stood confused and surprised at the threshold of your bedroom door. He reached for you with both hands and you felt the warmth of his palms on your cheeks at the same time as you felt the exhale from his parted lips against your mouth. It happened in a single moment. His lips connected with yours and you gasped in a surprised breath. Baekhyun kissed you. His lips were on yours and he held your face tightly between both of his hands as he did it. This was it. This was his goodnight kiss at your front door. This was the end of the date.

You could just make out the ultra up close view of him, his fluffed up hair, the smoothness of his forehead, his eyes closed up tight and dark eyelashes spread over his cheeks and it was all a big blur and so you closed your eyes and your heart raged noisily inside of your chest with the sudden need you felt for this to happen.

Your own lips parted and you felt the tilt of his head as his bottom lip pushed out slipping perfectly between your own and you could not stop it. You could not control the tightness with which your hands clung to the cotton of his dress shirt and pulled him toward you. You could not contain the way his tongue brushed lightly against your own and the way you reacted to it. The light moan that escaped from your throat and bounced around inside of his mouth. The light draw you felt on your lip as he pulled lightly and sucked on your lip as he did it. The final pull was him pulling away.

He ended the kiss with a step backward and a drop of his hands from your face.

He had kissed you and you most definitely had kissed him back. The labored breathing you struggled to contain did nothing for the dizziness.  

“Goodnight,” he said with a roughness on his voice; plus the blown out look in his eyes was telling you of many forbidden things that he was running from now. Things that even he knew were a very bad idea.

This had been fake. This was supposed to be a lesson.

You stood at your doorway and watched him disappear into his bedroom and after standing frozen in your doorway you had no choice but to return to the quiet glowing comfort of your own bedroom and close your door too.

Your hands were shaking and you felt the trembling all over you as you looked around at the place you called home. The place you loved more than anything in the world except for maybe that man who was likely facing a very similar struggle behind his own closed bedroom door.

The only difference was just how much you had to lose if you gave in.

You loved him. You knew it deep down inside of your soul. It had been buried for so long deep in the frozen depths of your ocean that you thought it would never surface and consume you, yet now you knew you’d been a fool.

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5, Part 6

Tag list: @j-pping  @blahblahblah-boo  @his-mochi-cheeks  @amyeonzing@littleflowercrown13  @baekinmylife  @insta1010  @nana-banana  @f4ncyvelvet@bbhbeth  @totallynerdstuff  @byunbabybaek @maijinki @bbyunz@theclawofaraven @kingkushdealer  @uhobob

[shemarmooresfedora]

hi baby congratulations on 300!!!🥳 i’m so glad to be here ! 💗🤍💗🤍✨⭐️

you know i’m obsessed w ur fics so, i am gently begging you to write something w prompts “can i paint your nails” “i’m going to steal this from you” and “people don’t compliment you enough” (sorry i forgot the numbers :( ) pleeeease? 🥺🥺

(sorry if it’s too much) thanks, i love u <3

It’s a Love Story

Summary: It’s senior skip day and you’re determined to pull your best friend of 10 years (and secret crush) out of his comfort zone.

Pairing: High School Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (but imagine Spencer is 18 so he is the normal high school senior age)

Content/Warnings: fluff, swearing, bullying

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: this fic is very self-indulgent because my senior skip day was yesterday! :)

Masterlist



“Hey, Spence! Wait up,” you jogged down the hall to catch up with him.

“Hey, Y/N. How’d your math test go?” Spencer asked.

“I’d rather not talk about it,” you groaned, “Thank you for trying to tutor me last night but I think I’m a lost cause at this point. It’s too late in the school year to care.”

“Did you know that ‘senioritis’ can actually be categorized as situational depression? In 2009, 22% of colleges decided to revoke some admissions offers after students began to slack off at the end of their senior year,” Spencer stated.

“Oh, trust me, genius, I may not be as smart as you but I’m not dumb enough to lose my scholarship to UCLA. I did the math out and even if I completely bombed this unit test, I can still maintain my A average,” you replied.

“I never said you weren’t smart, I was just warning you. I don’t want you to lose your spot at your dream school,” Spencer explained, “People don’t compliment you enough for all the hard work you put in to get accepted there.”

“Well, thanks for looking out for me, Spence,” you smiled, taking a seat in the back corner of the classroom.

Spencer sat right in front of you and turned around in his seat, “Do you have any homework?”

“Nope. My study hall is wide open just as expected. The teachers are losing just as much steam as the students,” you grinned, unzipping your backpack and pulling out nail polish.

“Can I paint your nails?” you asked.

“Y/N, don’t you think I get made fun of enough?” he whispered back.

“Girls love when guys paint their nails and if any guys try to give you shit, I’ll personally kick their ass. I took a self-defense course but I’ll use those moves I learned however I see fit,” you said.

“Fine,” Spencer relented, extending his hand out to you.

Spencer was honestly sold once you said that girls love it. That must include you, right?

“It’s purple too. Your favorite color,” you smiled, shaking the bottle up and then beginning to paint his nails.

Spencer thought it was cute that you picked up on his habit of sticking your tongue out of the corner of your mouth when you were concentrating.

“Isn’t it pretty?” you beamed as you worked on the second coat of polish.

“Yeah,” Spencer replied, not looking at his nails but the girl directly in front of him.

You gently blew air on his nails to dry them, “All done!”

-

“Well, well, well if it isn’t the teacher’s pet?” Brad, the captain of the football team, smirked as Spencer passed through the hallways after his math team practice ended.

“Wow, nail polish? And to think you couldn’t become any more of a loser?” he sneered as the jocks began to encircle around Spencer.

“Spence, there you are! I’ve been looking for you all over. Let’s go, we’re going to be late,” you walked right into the crowd of boys, paying no mind to them and grabbing Spencer’s hand, pulling him towards the exit.

“Don’t look back,” you whispered.

“You know one day your little girlfriend there is going to realize what a pathetic nerd you are. I’ll be ready to show her what a real man is,” Brad called after you.

“Oh yes, Brad, a real man goes to community college to hang on to the scraps of his mediocre football career that is his only reminder of when he peaked in high school,” you laughed.

“Y/N, he’s going to kill me for that,” Spencer groaned after you exited the building.

“Relax, we have three days left and then we won’t ever have to see that dick again,” you assured him.

“We have four days left,” Spencer corrected you.

“No, three because we’re not going in tomorrow,” you walked into the diner and took your seat in your usual booth, “It’s senior skip day.”

When Spencer didn’t respond, you looked up from your menu, “Spencer Reid, please do not tell me you were going to go in on senior skip day.”

“Why would I want to miss school?”

“Because you already know everything they could possibly teach you and you can spend the whole day with your best friend instead?” you fluttered your eyelashes to persuade him.

“I don’t want to go to the beach with all the popular kids. I’ll get shoved in the sand,” Spencer grabbed some of the fries that the waitress dropped off for you and popped them into his mouth.

“That is why we are going all the way to Santa Monica. We’ll just get up a little earlier and drive a little further but then we won’t run into anyone from our school,” you proposed.

“Fine but you’re driving,” Spencer huffed.

“Well, I’m certainly not letting the guy drive who hasn’t driven since he got his license just to prove he could pass,” you giggled.

“Why do I need to drive when my next-door neighbor can be my personal chauffeur?” he grinned.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll pick you up at 7 on the dot tomorrow.”

-

You honked outside of Spencer’s house. He came scrambling out with a big canvas tote bag, a tan sweater, and lilac swim shorts that ended at his mid-thigh.

“Get in, loser. We’re going to the beach,” you rolled down the window.

Spencer furrowed his brow for a second before opening the door.

“It’s just a reference to a popular movie. I wasn’t actually calling you a loser,” you assured him.

“My mom made us blueberry muffins for the ride,” Spencer pulled a ziploc bag out of the tote.

“Oh that is so sweet of her! Please tell her I said thank you. She must have been having a good night then,” you smiled, accepting one of the muffins from Spencer.

“Yes, she has been having a good week overall,” Spencer affirmed.

“That’s so great to hear. Okay, we’re stopping for coffee but then we’ll get on the highway.”

The opening notes of Love Story by Taylor Swift began to play on the radio.

“Oh my god! Turn it up!” you screamed.

Spencer grinned and turned the volume knob up.

“Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone. I'll be waiting, all there's left to do is run. You'll be the prince and I'll be the princess. It's a love story, baby, just say ‘yes’,” you sang.

-

You rolled down the windows as soon as you exited off the highway.

“Do you smell that, Spence?” you inhaled deeply, “Something about the salty air and sunshine just makes me feel alive.”

“You know it’s probably your increased exposure to the sunlight leading to an increase in vitamin D which can keep your energy levels up and enhance your mood,” Spencer stated.

“Well, whatever it is, I still love it,” you grinned.

You and Spencer made your way along the sandy coast. You parked in the beach parking lot and got out of the car, grabbing your mini cooler and chair.

Spencer grabbed the other chair and his tote and you headed down to the beach, walking a ways before settling on a spot in a less crowded area.

You took off your big t-shirt revealing your light blue bikini.

“Can we go in the water please?” you begged.

Spencer dug into his tote and tossed you a tube of sunscreen.

“Not until you put that on,” Spencer insisted.

“Fine,” you huffed.

“Sorry I don’t want you to be sunburnt for graduation,” he chuckled.

“Can you do my back?” you asked.

“I-um-yeah-yes I can do that,” Spencer scrambled to stand up from his beach chair.

His breath hitched in his throat as he applied the cool lotion to your back.

“All good,” he cleared his throat.

“Thanks, Spence! Do you need me to do your back or are you all set?” you asked.

“Nope, I’m all good. My mom did it before I left,” Spencer said.

“Can we go in the water now?” you pleaded.

Spencer gave a reluctant nod as you let out an excited squeal, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the tide.

You dove right into the cool waves, instantly relieving your body of the southern californian summer heat. Spencer was a bit more hesitant.

“It feels so good, Spence. Trust me,” you smoothed your wet hair back.

Spencer inhaled deeply and then sunk beneath the water as a wave passed by him.

“Yay! He’s actually having fun, people!” you cheered as he emerged from underneath the water.

Spencer playfully splashed water at you and you gasped.

“Oh Spencer Reid, you are so on,” you laughed, splashing water right back at him.

Spencer shielded it from his face with his hand and then started chasing after you. You shrieked in a giggle fit as he lifted you up in the water so you could no longer splash him.

“I surrender! I surrender!” you laughed along with him.

-

You and Spencer were walking on the basically deserted boardwalk by this time of night, licking your ice cream cones.

Spencer noticed you were shivering and pulled off his sweater, handing it to you.

“No, Spence. I can’t, then you’ll be cold,” you said.

“I really don’t mind,” Spencer insisted, wanting to have your scent on his sweater forever.

“Thank you,” you slipped it over your head, “I’m probably going to steal this from you because it’s super comfy.”

A reminder alert buzzed on your phone, “Oh shit. We have to sign up for tickets to go to prom by midnight,” you spoke.

Spencer shot you a guilty look.

“You’re not going?” you sighed defeatedly, trying your hardest not to tear up.

“Y/N, I don’t dance. I’ll make a fool of myself.”

“And I’ll be right by your side making a fool of myself too,” you urged, “Spence, it’s going to be no fun without you. I was going to ask you to officially be my date, you know? I had this whole complicated equation that I was going to have you solve and graph and the line spelled out ‘Prom?’. It’s stupid thinking back on it now, I won’t make you go.”

“I was going to ask you,” Spencer smiled softly, “but then I chickened out.”

“How about this? You give me one dance right now and then we’ll decide if we’re going or not,” you opened your phone and started playing Dancing by Mellow Fellow.

Spencer extended his hand and you accepted as he wrapped his other arm around your waist. You waltzed around the boardwalk in perfect sync as the neon lights from food stands and rides were shining down on you.

Spencer twirled you around and caught you in a dip. You let out a shaky exhale as you both stared into each other’s eyes.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispered.

“Please do. I’ve only been waiting 10 years for it since I moved in next door,” you smiled softly.

Spencer leaned down further and connected your lips. You pulled him even closer with your hands cupping his cheeks.

“I’ll go to prom with you under one condition,” he grinned, pulling away, “we go as boyfriend and girlfriend.”

“Absolutely,” you beamed and stood on your tippy-toes to give him another kiss that was long overdue.

A/N: i took a note out of my dear friend @samuel-de-champagne-problems ‘s book by naming the title after a Taylor Swift song

taglist (just ask to be added or removed!): @samuel-de-champagne-problems @g0lden-cth @spencerreid9 @averyhotchner @coldlilheart @k-k0129 @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @harrystylesandthegoobs @cmily @rem-ariiana

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

mango, m | jjk | 1

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: A love story between bad boy Jeon Jungkook and a strange girl with mango eating obsession.

warnings: rated M (18+) - please be warned this story will eventually touch on parental abuse and suicide; suggestive words/actions; mentions of nightmares plaguing the reader; non-idol!AU - university!AU; badboy!Jungkook x sociallyawkward!reader, ft bestfriend!Hoseok and friendly!Namjoon

yes it’s MAMA 2020 JK, it do really be like that

–

You felt a tap on your shoulder.

“Did you do the Chemistry homework?”

You chewed the piece of dried mango in your mouth slowly. You knew that smooth voice. It was hard not to know it. Everyone at this university knew that voice, for better or for worse. You put down the book you were reading for your seminar class – Neuromancer, by William Gibson, translated into Korean. You turned your head, only a bit. Not facing him.

“I’m not about to let you cheat right in front of the professor, Jeon Jungkook.”

You heard rustling, rearrangement, and the seat next to you was suddenly filled with leather and denim, black hair with too much gel in it, and cheekbones higher than your GPA, which was quite high, both weighted and unweighted.

“Come on,” he whined in his deep voice that was not meant for whining. “You always sit in the front now. Move a couple rows back so I can copy.”

You reached into your messenger bag and pulled out another piece of dried mango. Placed the orange fruit in between your teeth and held it there, moving it from side to side. Jungkook was watching your mouth with his dark chocolate eyes. You sucked it into your lips and chewed.

“Why do you think I always sit in the front row, hm?”

You lifted your book again and continued reading, Chemistry homework right in front of you on the lecture hall’s narrow table. You didn’t bother to look up again until the teacher called for attention. Jungkook was no longer sitting next to you.

-

You had your eyes closed, leaning back against the wall, Samsung buds tucked safely in your ears, violins serenading you. Chemistry was going to start soon, but you had gotten here far too early. You wanted to read more of Neuromancer, but the class discussion was going to be on chapters one to three and you were already on chapter ten.

It was a bad habit, but you had many of them.

You felt movement next to you. Opened your eyes.

“You look different today,” Jeon Jungkook remarked. Smirking, with his black hair slicked back, different leather jacket, weird silver-coated pants. Holding his backpack by one strap, far too deflated for it to be containing much. Your messenger bag was smaller, but full of papers shoved into folders.

You tilted your head and reached into your bag. Pulled out another piece of dried mango, sticking it in between your teeth. Turned it around with your tongue, coating it with the sugary outside.

You were wearing a high-necked black dress, long-sleeved with a short skirt. Velvet, patterned tights with thorned roses and black boots with a ten-centimeter platform.

You sank your teeth into the softened mango and sucked it into your lips.

Jungkook raised an eyebrow.

You closed your eyes and didn’t open them until you heard the professor opening the lecture hall with his keys.

The outfit you wore last Chemistry lecture was an oversized purple sweatshirt and short black skirt, with opaque purple tights and black sneakers.

-

You were standing in the school store, picking up three packs of dried mango.

You brought them to the counter, to the student cashier. She rang you up and handed them back to you. You walked out, shoving them into your bag. Catching the eye of a certain someone.

“You shouldn’t eat so much sugar,” Kim Namjoon teased, nudging you with his arm.

Your eyes shifted to him and you slowly opened a bag. Shoved one in your mouth.

“They’re not that high in sugar,” you replied. “Read the nutrition facts.”

Namjoon rolled his eyes. “Added sugar. Fruit is still sugar.”

“Mother Nature wouldn’t try to kill me.”

Namjoon raised his eyebrows. “Um, viruses? Bacteria? Other human beings?”

“Viruses and bacteria are objective. They do not have desires or motivations,” you replied calmly, chewing. “Human beings are an abomination.”

“Still natural.”

“Then ‘artificial’ would have no meaning.”

“Artificial is defined as made by human beings.”

“Human beings are made by other human beings.” You stopped at a door, the seminar class. “The line is blurred.” You opened the door and entered, seeing the ten other students as you sat down in the middle, pulling out Neuromancer. Namjoon sat down next to you, pulling out his dog-eared book, wrinkled from being dropped in puddles. It was a stark contrast to your pristine copy.

“Did you finish reading?”

“Yeah,” you said simply as the lecture began.

-

Today, you wore pants.

Baggy, black, thick denim jeans with an oversized black sweater. A thick black belt, tight around your waist. No graphics. Hair down, too messy to have been brushed. You turned in your Chemistry homework at the front of the class and went to the far right. Sat down next to the wall where you knew the seat next to you was broken.

Last night was plagued with nightmares. You hadn’t gotten any sleep at all. You missed the first bus and, instead of your usual habit of being early, you ended up being on time today. In your book, on time meant late.

Nothing was going right today.

You watched the professor collect the homework.

You looked away, pulling out another book. Prey, by Michael Crichton. It was taking you a while to read this one. You had to look up words. English wasn’t your first language and the book was heavy with scientific terms. You cursed your lack of knowledge. It felt like you were losing some of the meaning by not knowing English well enough.

“I had to look for you today.”

Your nails curled into the softcover of the book.

Jeon Jungkook slid into the seat below you, grinning. Too much slicked black hair, leather creaking as he settled. Eyes dark like a starless sky.

You reached into your messenger bag. The plastic rustled as you felt around. Only two pieces left. Sigh, of course. You pulled one out. Placed it in your teeth. Spun it with your tongue. Jungkook watched, looking up at you. You snapped your teeth into it.

The piece sticking out of your lips fell.

Jungkook’s right hand shot out and caught it before it touched the ground. Ink black tattoos winked at you. Small ones, one of a smiley face with x’s for eyes, one of a heart, another of a king’s crown. One by one, his long fingers curled open, revealing the small piece of dried mango.

You chewed, eyes flickering to his face.

Jungkook smirked and pulled his hand back. He inspected the fruit, the curved part where your teeth had sliced into. Then he popped it into his mouth, eyes shifting to you.

But you were already reading your book, nose deep and ignoring him.

-

“Just let me try.”

You frowned, but held out your hands.

Jung Hoseok, your childhood best friend, inspected your nails. He had a row of tools in front of him. You were in his shabby little apartment. He didn’t attend university. He was a street dancer, sometimes a backup dancer for idol groups. He choreographed for a few lesser-known idols too. You knew Hoseok was going to get his big break soon.

You two rarely saw each other anymore.

He asked last week if he could practice painting your nails. He had odd hobbies like that. Hoseok liked fashion too. He was wearing colorful beaded bracelets, vintage white t-shirt, and loose gray sweatpants. Pink headband and a green hair tie holding up his bangs like a sprout.

The only reason Hoseok was your best friend was because you didn’t have any other friends, thus making him the best by default.

He began to file your long nails.

“Do you have a preferred shape?”

You blinked at him. “I don’t care.”

Hoseok smiled. “I think pointed nails would look good on you.”

“Okay.”

You were still wearing your baggy black jeans. Hoseok’s honey brown eyes went from your nails to your legs.

“Are you okay?”

You gave him a blank look.

Hoseok put down the glass nail file. “I’m sorry I haven’t been a good friend.”

You shook your head slowly. “You’re busy. I think all your hard work will be noticed soon. You’re blowing up on Instagram.”

Hoseok’s eyes went wide. “You made an Instagram?”

“Only to follow you. I haven’t posted anything.”

He gave you a grateful smile. The tiny dimples on the sides of his lips appeared. “Thanks.”

You nodded. The sides of your mouth moved up robotically. Hoseok nudged you, picking up the glass nail file again.

“Don’t pretend smile. I can tell.”

“Sorry.”

Minutes passed. Hoseok blew the filed keratin away gently and wiped your nails with some acetone. He held out the colors. All bright. You picked the violet and he grinned.

“You can talk to me.”

“It’s always the same shit, Hoseok.”

He frowned, painting cautiously. The harsh scent of nail polish filled your nose.

“Even if it is,” Hoseok murmured, trying not to disturb his careful work. “Talking about it will help you vent.”

“Catharsis is scientifically proven to be completely useless and sometimes amplifies the condition.”

Hoseok gave you a displeased look.

“Sorry.”

He sighed at your apology. He had told you many times before to stop apologizing for nothing. You just did automatically. Trained from repeated years of trying not to be a nuisance. Trying not to be there when you were obviously there. Hoseok tapped the purple against his palm, trying to prevent it from getting goopy.

“You can stay here,” Hoseok remarked. “I said you could.”

You shook your head. “You can barely pay your own electricity bill. And you’ll never get laid if you live with a ghost.”

Hoseok laughed. He had a fun laugh, a great one that was real and genuine. “You can joke around.”

You smiled.

Hoseok could always make you smile at least once.

-

Today it was a tight black leather skirt with a baggy white dress shirt. Black tights with a pinstripe design, silver and black ankle boots. Black turtleneck under the white shirt. And your purple fingernails with yellow smiley face nail stickers, done by Jung Hoseok himself.

You had thought about wearing your baggy jeans again, but seeing your painted nails made you change your mind for some reason.

You sat in the front row of the Chemistry lecture hall. Pulled out Prey by Michael Crichton once again, phone handy to look up translations. You had ten minutes.

The creak of leather squeaked next to you. Instantly, your left hand slid down.

You left long fingers encase yours suddenly, stopping you from reaching into your messenger bag. Your teeth sank into your lower lip. The strong fingers held you tight, stroking your knuckles. Slight calluses, filed and well-kept nails.

“I like your nail polish.”

You ripped your hand out of Jeon Jungkook’s grasp. Shoved it into your bag and pulled out a piece of dried mango.

Didn’t look at him.

Just put it in your mouth and chewed, staring straight ahead.

“You look cute today.”

Chewed.

“Did you–”

You stabbed your finger to the desk, taking your book from it. Didn’t say anything.

He copied your homework.

-

“You alright?”

Namjoon stood up as the seminar class ended.

“You were quiet today. Usually, you have a lot to say.”

You placed your papers in your folder mechanically and looked up at him. “Was I?”

Namjoon nodded. “Kind of missed having your devil’s advocate point of view.”

Your head lowered. You stared at your left hand for a second. Remembering the feeling of Jeon Jungkook’s hand clutching yours.

“Have a lot on my mind.”

-

There were no packs of dried mango on the shelf.

None.

You went to the cashier. Asked when they would restock.

“Some guy bought all of them.” The cashier frowned. “I’m sorry. I know you’re the only one who buys them. I’ll reorder and keep extras behind the counter from now on.”

You stepped out of the school store. You only had a few pieces left. You took your phone out of your pocket and checked the nearest grocery store. It was only a few bus stops away. You began to walk out of the student common area, calling the number. Asking if they had dried mango in stock. They did. Could you keep three bags behind the counter? They could. You said you would be over right away.

Black leather right in front of your face.

You walked around it.

It followed you.

You stopped and hung up. Slowly raised your head.

Jeon Jungkook stared at you. He was holding a bag from the school store. It was filled to the brim with packs of cellophane-wrapped dried mango. His black hair was slicked back, eyebrow raised. Eyes so dark that they reminded you of a bottomless pit. No smirk this time. Serious, his dark brows furrowed.

You gave him a black stare. Then you tried to move around him.

He grabbed your upper arm tightly, shoving the bag into your chest. You recoiled, but he grabbed your other arm and clamped it over the plastic. You pushed it back at him and he planted his hand down on your forearm, firmly.

You felt a little tick in your face as a muscle tensed. You did not look at him.

“Call them back,” Jungkook stated. “Tell them you don’t need it anymore.”

Your eyes shifted back and forth.

“I don’t need your charity.”

“Do it.”

His hand was immobile on your forearm, fingers burying in the loose white fabric of your dress shirt. Your other hand held your phone. You awkwardly redialed the number and brought it to your ear. Told the pleasant lady that you found some dried mango, but thank you for holding it. She said it was no problem and told you to have a great day.

Jungkook let you go.

You ran away, clutching the bag.

-

When you arrived to your own shabby apartment, you dumped the packs dried mango all over your bed, a rainstorm of crinkled plastic. You were panting from running. Heart beating so fast you thought you were dying.

You lived in the poor part of the city. The apartments were like coffins, one room, tiny kitchenette with one stovetop, one sink. A tiny bathroom with a shower. No living room, just your twin bed in the center. You lived alone, because your mother worked overseas to pay for you to go to university.

The other parent could never come looking for you anymore.

You stared at the packs of dried mango. Why had he done that? You didn’t understand.

You didn’t understand Jeon Jungkook.

The landlord came by, knocking on the door. You backed away from the pile of mango and opened the front door, seeing the old man’s face.

He smiled at you. Thanked you for paying for in advance. You nodded mutely. He looked past you, at the bed covered in dried mango. Asked you how you were doing, if you were okay. You nodded again, not replying.

The old man smiled at you, somewhat sadly. Pity in his eyes. But you couldn’t speak to him. You couldn’t reply. You didn’t have a pack of mango with you, so you were voiceless.

He told you that if you ever needed anything to let him know.

You nodded, silent.

The old man bowed and let you be.

You closed the door, locked it. Back flat against it, breathless. Winded from nothing. Your eyes flickered to the bed. Something came over you. You stalked over to it. Then you shoved the plastic bags of dried mango away, off your bed, throwing them everywhere. Watching them fall, one by one, tumbling, tumbling, thundering plastic all around you.

You panted hard, staring at your hands. At the purple nail polish, chipping a little.

You wondered when the nightmares would finally go away.

-

You sat in the front row in the Chemistry lecture.

Red skirt, oversized grey sweater. Opaque black tights. Black sneakers.

Staring straight ahead. Chewing on a piece of dried mango.

Trying to hold on.

You hadn’t slept at all last night. Maybe it was fear. Maybe it was apathy. In the morning, you had thought about wearing baggy pants again. But those purple nails winked at you, only a few smiley faces clinging on. Hoseok would have told you to wear something nice, if you called him then.

So, you wore a skirt and waited for lecture to start, chewing.

You reached into your bag, fishing for another piece. It wasn’t there. The plastic pack of dried mango was gone.

You jerked your head abruptly. It was being held out to you, from the tattooed right hand of Jeon Jungkook. He stared at you. Dark eyes so intense it felt like hellfire. Hair slicked back with too much gel. Leather jacket over a black shirt.

He did not speak this time.

You tried to take the bag, but he held it tightly. Pried open the opening a little wider, tipping it to you.

You reached in. Grabbed a piece.

Jungkook watched you. In between the teeth. Turning it with your tongue, licking off the sugar. Sucking it in, making it disappear into the pink canal.

He lowered the packet, putting it back in your messenger bag. Took out your book, handing it to you.

He did not speak.

Your hand grasped the softcover copy of Prey. Jungkook kept staring at you. Your eyes went to the book. To the words on the page. Away from Jeon Jungkook and his piercing eyes.  

-

“Did you get compliments on your nails?”

“One.”

Hoseok smiled cheerfully as he gently took off the purple nail polish. It still stank of acetone though. “Oh? Did it feel nice?”

“I don’t know.”

Hoseok tilted his head, frowning. “What do you mean, you don’t know?”

Your eyes shifted. “I don’t know because I don’t know if it was a genuine compliment or a ruse.”

“Ruse for what?” Hoseok quipped, planting the cotton ball on your nail and holding it down.

You thought of that slicked black hair and those corrupting black eyes.

“Hoseok.”

“Mhm?”

“Why did you suddenly have an interest in painting nails?”

Hoseok paused. His honey brown eyes flashed up to you. Then he looked back down at your hands.

“Because it is a frivolous thing.”

You blinked at him. He wiped your nails clean. He tapped the bottle of base coat, along with a top coat and the same bright colors.

“It is something purely for fun and vanity. It has no real meaning and is only good for self-care.”

“Did you rehearse this?”

He held up the bottle of base coat and frowned at you, closing his eyes and trying to remember the rest of his speech.

“It is something you won’t do for yourself, so I want to do it for you.” His brown orbs found yours. There was something conflicted in those eyes. “I want to spend time with you. I want you to know this. I want you to remember you have a friend when you look at your hands.”

Your lips parted.

“I can’t be there and hold you when you wake up from the nightmares.”

You looked down, down at your lap of your red skirt and grey oversized sweater.

“I know I cannot make them stop. I know I cannot change what has happened to you or make it better.”

Hoseok held your hands tightly, even though you weren’t looking at him. Held you, voice apologetic and hurting for you, feeling for you when you tried so desperately to feel nothing at all.

“But I want you to remember, every time you look at your hands. You have a friend.”

-

“I like your nail polish.”

Your nails were neon pink and green, with small flower stickers. Hoseok said the top coat should keep the stickers on better this time. He was learning. He said YouTube helped.

You reached into your bag, but a piece of dried mango appeared next to your lips. Your eyes traveled up that those well-kept nails and the tan hand with the tiny tattoos, up the leather sleeve, to the slicked-back black hair and angular jaw of Jeon Jungkook. His pink lips had a tiny mole under them. Those dark chocolate eyes stared at you.

“Eat it.”

Your hand reached for it, but he shook his head once.

“Eat it,” he repeated.

You leaned forward, the fabric of your purple sweatshirt bunching. Caught the dried fruit with your teeth, pulled back. Turned it in your mouth. Sucked it in and chewed.

Jungkook seemed satisfied. His eyes went down to your black leather skirt and black pinstriped tights. Black and silver ankle boots. Eyes back up, stopping at your thighs. Then he looked up at you.

And for once you weren’t nose deep in Prey.

You were staring at him.

“Give me your phone.”

You unlocked your phone and handed it to him.

Jungkook found the messenger app and typed in a new message. You watched him. He typed your name into the text bubble and sent it to a number. Then he handed your phone back to you.

You took it.

-

2.

--

masterpost

[cosmicgoddesswrites]

The Nanny - Chapter 2

Single Dad!Kuroo x Nanny!Reader

Summary: Kuroo Tetsuro is about at his wits end; there's only so much a man can take with work piling up, his divorce getting messier by the minute, and his 6-year-old daughter raising hell at home. Hiring a nanny sounds like a band-aid solution, but who knows, maybe this will work out?

Word Count: 1738

Warnings: Female!Reader, Some cursing, mentions of v!olence, implied panic attack

Prev. Masterlist. Next.

-----------------------------------------------------

Pulling up to the house the next morning was just as nerve-racking, if not more so, than it was the day before. (Y/n) was excited to meet Emiko, but couldn’t help the anxiety bubbling in the pit of her stomach.

What if Emiko didn’t like her? Kuroo said if she did well then she would get to stay on as her nanny. Did that mean if she did a shit job that he would fire her?

(Y/n) pushed her worries to the back of her mind as she approached the front door, gripping the spare key Kuroo had given her so hard she thought it might bend. With a deep breath she unlocked the front door and made her way inside.

Her footsteps practically echoed in the spacious house. One would think she was there completely alone. 

Making her way to the kitchen, (Y/n) set down her messenger bag in one of the island chairs. Should she start cooking? Should she wait for Kuroo to greet her? Would he even greet her? Did she have to wait until she knew Emiko was up?

Her inner monologue was interrupted by a loud crash followed by a shrill scream that could have easily been mistaken for an emergency siren.

Instinct had (Y/n) rushing to the source of the noise and almost bumping into a frantic and half naked, very wet Kuroo.

“O-oh my god-”

“Oh, hi. Uh, I was showering, should we-?” Kuroo interrupted (Y/n), pointing to the door they were both standing in front of. (Y/n) prayed he didn’t notice her staring.

“Yes, yes we should-” she mumbled, moving to let him open the door.

Kuroo swung open the door, rushing to his daughter’s bedside and checking her for injuries. The father sighed in relief when he found none, only for his smile of relief to drop when he saw a very expensive looking night-light had been thrown on the floor.

“You scared me half to death,” he huffed, picking up the night-light, “did you throw this? You know daddy paid a lot for that.”

The little girl’s attention had shifted from her dad to the stranger in the room, her intense, amber eyes almost sizing the woman up. “Who’s that?”

Kuroo frowned at the lack of response from his daughter. “That’s (Y/n), she’s going to be your nanny, okay?” he explained, inspecting the light for any damage.

(Y/n) smiled and opened her mouth to speak only for the 6-year-old to cut her off.

“I don’t like her.”

Ouch.

Kuroo choked on his saliva and quickly turned to face his daughter, “Emiko that isn’t nice, you just met her. Can you give her a chance?”

Emiko stayed dead silent, continuing to stare (Y/n) down.

(Y/n) tried her best to play off the insanely awkward encounter, kneeling down to meet Emiko’s eye-line. “That’s okay, buuut do you like pancakes?”

The girl’s eyes lit up for a moment, she was obviously trying to mask any reaction to the mention of food, but her stomach betrayed her as it rumbled loudly.

“Well I like pancakes too, I make them nice and thick and fluffy with lots of syrup. How about I go make you and your dad some right now?” (Y/n) offered Emiko a bright smile as the little girl glanced over at her father.

“I know that sounds good to me!” Kuroo said, “How about we get dressed for the day while (Y/n) starts cooking?”

Kuroo didn’t even wait for a reply, he just stood straight and began getting Emiko’s clothes ready for the day. (Y/n) gave Emiko one last smile before heading for the kitchen.

(Y/n) could hear arguing coming from Emiko’s room as she cooked breakfast. It was clear the little girl would pull no punches on (Y/n)’s first day, making this a difficult start to what would hopefully be her new, permanent job.

Kuroo eventually entered the kitchen, frustration evident in his features as he carried Emiko to the small dining table. The little girl kicked and struggled in his hold, whining and grunting as she tried getting away. Her school uniform and hair was a mess, it couldn’t have been genes making her jet-black hair stick up like that.

(Y/n) served Emiko her breakfast as soon as the young girl was in her chair, ensuring she wouldn’t try running off to get her father to chase her. Those adorable amber eyes identical to Kuroo’s lit up as she began digging into her breakfast, not even bothering to wait for her dad to sit beside her.

The older man adjusted his tie before sitting at the table and beginning to eat breakfast as well; he seemed very pleased with the comfortable silence that enveloped the three of them.

(Y/n) turned her back to them to start washing dishes. And that’s when things took a turn.

“Can we stop at McDonald’s on the way home from school, daddy?” Emiko asked, her mind already on her next meal despite the near-empty plate of pancakes in front of her.

“You’ll have to ask (Y/n), sweetheart. From now on she’s going to be the one taking you to school and bringing you home.”

Emiko didn’t like her father’s reply. Not one bit.

She practically threw her fork down on the table, a fire in her eyes (Y/n) was all too familiar with. “I don’t want her to take me! I want you to take me!” she shouted, mouth still full of half-chewed pancakes. 

“Emiko, the earlier daddy gets to work the earlier he can come home to you.” Kuroo reasoned, only to be met with a glare from his daughter.

“You always say that then pick me up late from school anyway!” she snapped, “I don’t want her!”

Kuroo gave Emiko a stern look. “Emiko. I’m the parent and you’re the child. I’m saying (y/n) is taking you to school. She’s taking you to school.”

(Y/n) internally cringed at that. Maybe she externally cringed too. She could have a talk with him about that communication later.

Emiko kicked her legs under the table, causing it to thump as Kuroo hardened his gaze. “Well if you’re done eating you can go ahead and get to school.” Kuroo stood up and scooped Emiko out of her chair despite her protests, ignoring her as she screamed her head off and thrashed in his arms.

In the midst of her thrashing, her closed fist collided roughly with Kuroo’s nose. In shock, he set Emiko down and cupped his nose in pain, the pain causing his eyes to water. Emiko looked shocked for a moment before continuing her tantrum.

Kuroo wordlessly picked Emiko back up, grabbed her schoolbag, and carried her to (Y/n)’s car. (Y/n) followed behind silently, unlocking the car so he could get Emiko in the back seat. Once she was strapped in, (Y/n) turned Kuroo to face her and cupped his cheek.

“Let me see that, do you need ice?” She asked before he quickly pulled away.

“I’ll be okay… Drive carefully.”

(Y/n) bit her lip before getting into the driver’s seat, wincing at the volume of Emiko’s screams. Despite how upset he was, Kuroo blew a kiss to the crying child in the car before turning to go back in the house.

Emiko sobbed and screeched and wailed the whole way to school, somehow not tiring herself out at all no matter how hard she thrashed in her seat. (Y/n) was almost grateful to pull up to the school parking lot and get the screaming child out of her car.

She opened the backseat of the car, noticing how Emiko flinched away as she was now practically hyperventilating through her tears.

(Y/n) immediately set beside her and cupped her cheeks so Emiko would look at her. “Hey, hey- it’s okay. Just look at me and breathe, okay, pretty girl? It’s okay, breathe.” (Y/n) cooed, gingerly wiping Emiko’s tears.

Emiko continued breathing hard, her tiny chest heaving with each breath she took. “D-Dont yell at meee!” She wailed, “Pleaaase don’t yell at me! Don’t be maaad!”

“Sweetie I’m not mad at you, I’m not going to yell at you,” (Y/n) assured her, brushing strands of messy hair off her tear-stained cheeks. “I’m never ever going to yell at you, okay? Please just be a good girl and breathe with me, okay?”

Emiko nodded quickly, staring up at (Y/n) as she mirrored her breathing. A couple moments later, Emiko was breathing normally, blinking back tears and shaking in her seat.

“Good girl,” (Y/n) gave her a gentle smile as she praised her, continuing to stroke her head. “Can you tell me why you’re upset?”

The little girl sniffled, her bottom lip quivering, “I hit my daddy…” she whimpered.

(Y/n) frowned as she began to try combing down Emiko’s messy hair with her fingers. “You didn’t like hitting your daddy, huh?”

Emiko responded only by shaking her head. “He hates me…”

“That’s not true.” (Y/n) quickly corrected her, tilting her head. “Your daddy loves you soooo much. And I bet more than anything he just wants a great big hug from you to make it okay. How about when he gets home, you apologize and kiss and hug him better?”

Emiko nodded sadly, nervously picking at her fingers.

“We have to get you into school now, okay? I want you to think about what you want for dinner and I’ll take you grocery shopping with me after I pick you up, okay?” (Y/n) smiled down at her. “Anything you want I’ll make, then you and daddy can sit down at dinner and share it.”

(Y/n) felt relief wash over her as Emiko nodded and unbuckled her own seatbelt, moving to get out of the car. “Do you know how to make spaghetti?” She asked quietly.

(Y/n) giggled and helped her out of the car, walking her to the front doors. “That’s my faaavorite thing to cook! I’ll make a list for the grocery store, sound good?”

Emiko nodded, already looking like she had perked up. The two said their goodbyes and (Y/n) left her teacher her phone number before going back to the house. Hopefully Kuroo would be gone and the two could avoid an awkward encounter.

-----------------------------------------------------

Taglist:

@kellyyween @whore-for-anime @lilith412426 @yourstarvic @prinkipissa-aa @syynnaaah  @boosyboo9206  @lowkey-falling-apart  @chwlogy  @chichibia  @chirity-chu @faithfulferns @fi-chanwrites