#LOVED THIS ONE

[jungshookz]

y/n seems to have everyone wrapped around her finger and to be quite frank, namjoon's unimpressed

➺ pairing; professor!namjoon x y/n 

➺ genre; mostly sfw with a little something something at the end!! namjoon is a philosophy professor who suddenly has to share his precious lecture hall newbie professor y/n!! we all know i am a big fan of enemies to lovers/opposites attract and i love it even more when both of them are total nerds!! y/n’s approach to philosophy is so ridiculous and namjoon can’t stand her!! namjoon is so stuffy and y/n can’t stand him!! god damnit just kiss already!! 

➺ wordcount; 7.2k

➺ summary; you’re the newest professor joining the university, and all of a sudden, it feels like namjoon actually has someone to compete with for the first time. 

➺ what to expect; “Also, please stick to black, blue, and red ink for future note-taking and grading purposes. Pastel purple is not an appropriate colour for a higher education atmosphere. Thank you.”

➺ currently playing on cee.fm; what is this feeling? — wicked soundtrack 

»»————- 📚 ————-««

namjoon isn’t a fan of change. 

he’s always liked things in a particular way — he only likes notebooks with a seamless, perfect binding for the spines, he only likes ballpoint pens and never gel, he only uses traditional coloured highlighters and none of that strange, pastel-coloured junk, and he only likes to use a sandalwood scented essential oil diffuser in his apartment and his lecture hall 

most of his life has been planned out (he planned out how the next twenty years of his life would go when he was ten, and according to this twenty-year plan, he’s pretty on track) and he likes it that way, so yes, he isn’t a big fan of change when it comes to such an important timeline like this

he’s currently a professor at the university he got his phd from, and because part of his twenty-year plan included going from his bachelor’s degree to his master’s degree to his doctoral degree, it means that he’s actually the youngest professor on the staff’s roster (which, again, was part of his plan all along) 

he’s been teaching here for nearly two years now and has built a very solid reputation with his co-workers, he’s the school’s most sought-after professor when it comes to his philosophy classes — he teaches three undergrad classes and two graduate classes and every semester they’re always packed and students will always email him to try and get into the class when the capacity is full — and he’s pretty sure he’s getting a raise soon, which is great because he’s been meaning to splurge on a new electric tea kettle that lets you control the temperature and sings a little song when the water’s done boiling 

“alright, let’s bring today’s discussion to a close.” namjoon shakes his wrist, checking the time on his watch before nodding to himself — the lecture ends in five minutes, so he’s wrapping up right on time and he’ll be able to grab a coffee and a croissant before his office hours start, “what we’ve explored today is really just a glimpse into the vast and ongoing conversation about how to engage critically with your existence.” he hums, leaning back against his desk as he looks out at the sea of students in front of him, the sound of pen tips scratching on paper and typing on keyboards coming from all over the room 

“after you leave class today, i’d like for you to reflect on the choices you make — not just the big, life-altering ones, but the miniscule, everyday decisions.” he reaches up to adjust his glasses on the bridge of his nose, “are they leading you toward a life of purpose and integrity? or are they dictated by external pressures and unexamined habits? we’ll continue this discussion next time, but until then, i’d like you to keep questioning, keep thinking, and keep living philosophically. as always, i have office hours here from 3:30-6 if you have any questions. class dismissed.” he nods, and almost immediately the class breaks into packing up, murmurs rippling through the vast lecture hall 

namjoon smiles lightly to himself as he gives himself a mental pat on the back

yet another successful lecture!

he really does love teaching, and he’s so grateful that he’s able to do something that he actually likes for work 

shaping young minds is something that he’s always wanted to do, and he thinks he’s been doing a pretty good job as a professor 

…

oh, who is he kidding? of course he’s been doing a fantastic job as a professor! 

he smiles politely as his students trickle out the door, turning around to grab his wallet out of his backpack 

croissant time! 

»»————- 📚 ————-««

“hello, are you here for office hours?” namjoon isn’t surprised when he opens the door to see someone standing by his desk, looking around the empty lecture hall, “it actually starts at 3:30, so it would be great if you could come back in fifteen minutes and i’d be happy to answer any questions you have about the lecture.”

“oh, hi!“ you spin around with a smile, and namjoon returns a polite one as he sets his coffee and pastry bag down on the desk, “no, i’m not here for office hours, i’m here to check out the lecture hall for when i start teaching alongside you next week. you’re namjoon, right? i’ve heard so much about you, i’m y/n y/l/n and i’m really excited to start working together-“ you stick your hand out for him to shake and he immediately frowns, glancing down at your hand before looking back up at you with a scoff of disbelief 

“teaching… alongside me?” he tilts his head, reaching over to give your hand a shake after a moment of hesitation (it would be rude of him to turn down a handshake, and he has to admit you have a nice, firm handshake), “i’m sorry, what are you talking about?” 

“didn’t you get the email? i’m the newest philosophy professor joining the staff-“ you slide your tote bag off your shoulder and pull your phone out, “they told me i’d kinda be shadowing you before they can determine if i should lead my own lectures or not. so i guess i’m a co-professor for now, but eventually i’ll just be a professor. i’ve seen a few of your lectures online, i’m looking forward to working together and-“

“co-professor?” namjoon interrupts, holding his hand out to make you stop talking, “i’m sorry, this is the first i’m hearing of this.” he fumbles for his phone before looking through his email because there’s no way he would’ve missed an email as important as- 

okay there it is 

yep 

he totally missed that 

“i see.” namjoon pokes his tongue against the inside of his cheek, “okay, well… i guess you can just sit with the class and listen to the lectures. i don’t need an assistant professor, but you can help give out handouts or something-“

“well, that would make sense if i was a TA, but i’m not entering this classroom as a TA or an assistant professor, i’m entering it as a co-professor. we’re equals!” you point out, namjoon’s eyes widening when you pull a pen out from your bun and slap a copy of the class syllabus down on his desk 

he’s appalled to see that you’ve written all over it, and not only that, you’ve used multiple colours to take notes instead of the traditional black, blue, and red 

…pastel purple?!

“i took a look at the lineup you have, and to be frank, it’s a little stiff. your students are drowning in dense readings, and i don’t know about you, but i actually hated reading so much when i was in undergrad-“ 

“well, that sounds like it’s a you problem, because i liked reading and always appreciated when the professor gave us something dense and enriching to read-“

“why not swap out one of the medieval philosophy lectures for something a little fresher?” you suggest, using the back of your pen to point to the lecture he has planned in a few weeks, “maybe we can do a session on philosophy in science fiction? ooh, ethics in AI might be fun, no? it’s something they can apply to the modern world-“

“philosophy isn’t about chasing trends. it’s about discipline, rigorous thought, and engaging with foundational texts that have shaped human understanding for centuries, professor y/l/n-“

“it’s doctor.”

“what?”

“dr. y/l/n. i just graduated with my phd.” 

a moment of silence passes as namjoon processes all of this new information

processing…

processing…

“you-“ still processing… “you what? how old are you?”

“you should never ask a woman how old she is, but i’m two years younger than you. and i know that because i actually took the time to look at your profile on the university’s website after getting the email that we’d be working together for the rest of the semester-“

“rest of the-“ namjoon chokes, reaching up to adjust his tie, “okay, respectfully, dr. y/l/n, my whole point is that students have no business calling themselves actual philosophers if they can’t wrestle with aquinas and avicenna-“ 

“right, because thirty pages of medieval metaphysical debates on the essence of angels is going to determine whether or not a student can call themself an actual philosopher. i’m not saying to abandon the classics, i’m just saying it’s not gonna hurt to throw in a few discussions that’ll make philosophy feel a little more… alive to them!” 

namjoon resists the urge to roll his eyes as he takes a seat at his desk, keeping his eyes glued on the scribbles all over your copy of the syllabus 

there’s no way he’s gonna work with someone who thinks pastel purple is an appropriate colour to use when taking notes 

he reaches over to grab his coffee, taking a sip and- 

his coffee is cold 

he waited too long and now his coffee is cold, and he would’ve been drinking perfectly lukewarm coffee if it weren’t for the fact that you came and disrupted his whole schedule like this 

“anyway, i’m open to discussing spicing up the syllabus once you have the time. i don’t want to take up any of your office hours, i know you probably have students lined up outside already-“ you fold the syllabus back up into four squares before tucking it away into your tote bag (namjoon is once again appalled you don’t have a folder for your papers and seem to have based your organising system off mary poppins’ purse), “but it was really nice meeting you, dr. kim. you have my phone number and email when you want to arrange a meeting.”

“…right…” namjoon trails off, and for the first time is rendered completely speechless and doesn’t know what else to say 

all he knows is that there’s no way in hell he’s going to allow this co-professor business to happen. 

»»————- 📚 ————-««

you let out a breath as you shut the door behind you, your shoulders finally slumping 

you hated that whole interaction 

you can already tell that working with namjoon is going to be a pain in the ass 

you’d heard some things about him — you’d heard about how great of a lecturer he is and how he genuinely cares about what he’s teaching and what his students are learning from him, but you’d also heard that he was pretty stuck in his ways and not… super cooperative, which you already saw first hand 

at the same time, you had to admit that that was a quality that both of you shared — you’re not exactly a fan of being co-professors, you’d much rather just take the reins and lead the class yourself while namjoon sits off to the side, but you are the new one around here and you do want to be liked 

so you can play nice for now, because the most important thing you’re focusing on is securing your place as an official staff member and making a great first impression on your new co-workers and your new students 

you’d prefer for namjoon to like you, but he seems to be a tough nut to crack 

the both of you should at least try to get along, and you’re willing to do that as long as he’s willing to meet you in the middle 

so… let’s just hope he’s willing to meet you in the middle

your phone buzzes in the back pocket of your jeans and you pull it out, surprised to already see a text from namjoon 

okay

this is great!

the fact that he’s already opening a line of communication is a good sign, maybe this semester won’t be hell on earth after all 

the smile on your face slowly disappears when you finally get around to reading the texts, your eyebrows knitting together instead

Hello, Dr. Y/L/N. This is Kim Namjoon. Please save my number so that we may communicate with each other if needed. The semester has already begun, therefore I don’t think there has to be any changes made to my syllabus. We do not need to discuss this topic any further. Thank you.

you don’t even get a chance to really process his text before another one pops up 

Also, please stick to black, blue, and red ink for future note-taking and grading purposes. Pastel purple is not an appropriate colour for a higher education atmosphere. Thank you. 

»»————- 📚 ————-««

namjoon sighs to himself as he makes his way up the brick stairs to enter the philosophy building, reaching up to adjust his tie 

for the first time ever, he’s running a little behind (only by like, three minutes, he’s not that reckless) but it’s only because he spent the earlier portion of the afternoon speaking with the department head and practically pleading them to change their minds about this whole co-professor situation 

he’d gone into the office with many good arguments tucked into a neat little powerpoint presentation 

for example, he doesn’t need a co-professor because he knows what he’s doing and you would only slow him down 

also his students consistently have high grades and his classes are always packed each semester so there’s no issues with consistency or lack of interest 

sure, philosophy can be a stiff subject to work with but he thinks he’s done a great job at teaching it and upkeeping enthusiasm 

the point is he doesn’t need you, and if anything you should just be teaching your own class and the students who don’t make it into his class can all go to you! 

(maybe he shouldn’t have made that last comment, but it’s true.) 

but of course, because luck wasn’t on his side, his presentation didn’t convince the department head to change his mind 

apparently you were a “great addition” to the staff and that namjoon should feel lucky he gets to work alongside such a “smart, well-spoken young professional” who is “just as good at teaching as he is” 

ridiculous

totally ridiculous 

what’s even more ridiculous is the fact that you seem to have become a fan favourite despite only being here for literally a week 

your mug is already right next to his in the cupboard in the professor’s lounge

it’s clearly a handmade mug you probably made at one of those pottery places because the edges are a little bumpy which makes it wobble a little when you put it face down 

the outside is an eggplant purple and the inside of the cup is painted a shade of sage green and it looks like a child would drink chocolate milk out of it 

his mug is sensible and professional 

it’s plain white with his initials on the front printed in times new roman 

everyone knows it’s his mug and there’s never any confusion 

he even heard a rumour about one of the spare rooms in the philosophy department being cleared out for a new office for you if things work out 

and yes, he has his own office already, but he just thinks everyone is being a little hasty clearing out an office space just for you 

he can’t even imagine how you’d decorate the space 

you’re probably one of those people who have little trinkets everywhere and you’ll probably have like a miniature pool table on your desk to play with 

he shudders as he thinks about having to sit in oversized beanbag chairs instead of actual chairs 

“alright, alright, alright!” 

namjoon’s surprised when he opens the lecture hall door to an unusually bustling room, the students chatting animatedly as they flip through their notebooks

the air is alive with the rustling of papers, clinking of metal water bottles, and the occasional burst of laughter and he frowns as he sees a few of them leaning forward enthusiastically compared to the usual scene of them scrolling through their phones or talking to each other

he turns his head and sees you at the front of the room, perched casually on the edge of the desk twirling a purple pen between your fingers before shoving it into your bun, “now, something a little controversial...” you pause dramatically, “red ink for grading. ethical, or a crime against student morale?” 

namjoon’s jaw immediately clenches as he rolls his eyes — obviously this has something to do with the text he sent you the other day about your ridiculous coloured pens and your little ego’s been bruised and that’s why you’re being bratty 

but whatever, because if anything this is just proving his point — you’re an immature little kid totally unfit to be his equal! and he’s more than happy to let you make a fool of yourself in front of his students, so sure, go ahead and talk about your little purple pen for all he cares 

the room erupts in laughter and groans and namjoon silently makes his way over to the front to join you, pulling his chair back to see that you’ve already put your backpack down on it 

he picks it up and plops it down on the ground, using his foot to kick it under the desk before taking a seat and hanging his backpack on the back of the chair 

“i always feel like i’m being yelled at when i see red ink!”

“exactly!” you laugh, sliding up to sit on the edge of the desk with your legs swinging slightly, completely blocking the class from seeing namjoon, “it’s psychological torture. red ink doesn’t just mark mistakes, it screams them. it’s aggressive. but what about if i used green? or pink? or… pastel purple? would you feel a little different about your grade?” 

“it would feel… friendlier?”

“friendlier, right?” you grin, tapping your temple as you look out at the room of enthusiastic students, “then here’s the real ethical dilemma, kids — if something as small as ink colour affects how we perceive feedback, then what do we think that says about bigger, more serious choices? if we can reframe an experience with something as simple as colour, then what other biases are shaping the way we see the world around us? something to think about...” 

“are you just about done, dr. y/l/n?” namjoon raises an eyebrow, tapping his fingers against the desk as he leans back against his chair, “because i’d like to get started with class now, if you’re ready to go.” 

“ah! dr. kim, sorry — i know you usually like to start your classes with a silent ten minutes of quiet reflection of last week’s lecture, but i figured i’d warm up the class myself since this is my first day as co-professor.” you chirp, sliding off the desk before turning to face the class again, “very lovely to meet you all and i’m looking forward to getting to know each and every one of you as we progress with the semester!” 

“kiss ass.” namjoon coughs into his fist quietly, getting up from his seat before smiling warmly at his students, nudging you aside with his hip before clapping his hands together, “alright, class! medieval philosophy, let’s get into it…” 

you immediately roll your eyes when you turn to face away from the class, taking a seat next to the desk and crossing one leg over the other 

he’s just jealous because the students clearly like you more and you’ve only been here five minutes

but if this is how he wants to play, then you’re more than willing to play along.

»»————- 📚 ————-««

namjoon finds that the simplest things in life bring him the most pleasure

a hot cup of black coffee, the perfect scent of sandalwood in a room, the feeling of cracking the spine on a brand new notebook… 

but most importantly, a perfectly toasted buttery flaky croissant from the cafe on the bottom floor of the philosophy building

he’s eaten these croissants ever since he was a student here, and he always has a croissant after he teaches classes here on tuesdays and thursdays — it’s like a reward! 

“what do you mean there are no more croissants?!” namjoon slams both palms down on the counter, pulling away immediately when he feels that the surface is a little sticky 

gross 

“sorry, namjoon!” hoseok shrugs, “i just sold the last croissant to- actually, i think you know her, she said she’s the new professor in the philosophy department-“

you.

“i know who you’re talking about.” namjoon grits his teeth, looking at the pastry case for anything else that might satisfy his midday sweet treat craving but he doesn’t want a stupid sea salt chocolate chip cookie or a raspberry white chocolate scone, he wants his plain buttery croissant that you probably only bought to spite him! 

“yeah, her!” hoseok grins, setting namjoon’s coffee down on the counter, “she’s really nice, isn’t she? she said she likes the way i do my leaf design on her caramel lattes, no one’s ever complimented my leaves before- it just feels so nice to be appreciated for once-“ 

“no!” namjoon snaps, pointing a finger at hoseok, “you have to stop yourself from being charmed by her, it’s all an act and- and- next time she asks for a latte, you should do a giant- a GIANT frowney face-“ 

“well, i don’t think i’m going to do that but-“ hoseok frowns when he notices a vein starting to bulge out namjoon’s forehead, “hey, you seem a little tense! how about a cookie on the house?” he asks, using his tongs to pick up the sad-looking cookie before putting it in a paper bag for namjoon, “it’s just a croissant, namjoon. i know you like ‘em every tuesday and thursday but if it makes you feel better i’ll save you one on thursday! it seems like both of you guys like croissants so i can definitely save two of them-“

the both of them look over to where you’re sitting by the window with his croissant while you flip to the next page of whatever stupid book you’re reading, and namjoon’s gaze doesn’t waver in the slightest when you look up and over at them 

you smile brightly, raising the croissant in the air a little before taking a massive bite out of it, rubbing your stomach and nodding your head exaggeratingly 

namjoon’s eye twitches and he turns back to look at hoseok

“it is not just a croissant and you know that, hoseok-“ he snatches the cookie from his friend before shaking his head in disappointment, “she is a siren and you are a helpless, weak little sailor-“

“hey! what the hell, man?!” 

“WEAK little sailor!” namjoon exclaims as he storms away, angrily shoving the cookie into his mouth and wiping crumbs off with the back of his hand sloppily 

»»————- 📚 ————-««

“tae, have you seen my mug?” you frown, taking a few steps back to see if you can get a better view of the second shelf, “i usually have it on the first shelf but i can’t find it anywhere…” 

“is it not there?” taehyung — he’s the janitor here and you guys got along pretty quickly — hums, setting his mop aside before walking over to join you by the cupboards, “i swear i saw it there this morning, that’s odd. i’ll keep an eye out and let you know if i see it anywhere. you sure you didn’t leave it in your lecture hall?”

“no…” you trail off, shutting the cupboard doors gently with a sigh, “hm. i’m sure it’ll pop up somewhere. thanks, anyway…” 

you like to think that you’re a pretty chill person, but there’s just something about misplacing something that really irks you 

because then you start thinking about when the last time you saw the missing object was and then it turns into a spiral of how you could be so careless and irresponsible and lose something and also it makes you anxiously think about someone else using something that belongs to you and only you 

that’s your good luck mug!

you made it at a colour-me-mine in freshman year and you’ve used it ever since 

you’re convinced it has some kind of magical power because the mug always happens to be there when you get good news

it was there when you got accepted into your graduate program, your doctoral program, and it was literally in your hands when you got the email from the university accepting you as a new professor

so… hopefully it does pop up somewhere 

you used it yesterday after class and you remember washing and drying it immediately before sliding it back on the shelf 

you chew on the corner of your lip as you push open the door to the lecture hall, your eyes widening when you see namjoon standing there taking a sip from your mug 

you open your mouth to say something but he immediately brings a finger up to his lips to shush you — the class is having their silent time and the last thing you want to do is cause a scene, right? 

“that’s my mug.” you whisper through gritted teeth, and namjoon moves his hands to the side quickly when you reach up to try to snatch it out of his hands, “you have a stupid, boring mug already-“ 

“oh, but your mug is so much fun!” namjoon grins, taking another sip of water from it 

(it’s actually killing him having to drink from this cursed vessel. why are the edges so bumpy?! how do you drink from this stupid thing without dribbling all over yourself?!) 

“it is on, dr. kim.” you hiss, forcing a smile on your face when a few students look up from their desks, “it is so on.” 

“hm.” namjoon clears his throat quietly, the two of you standing side by side with your arms pressed together, “bring it, dr. y/l/n.” 

»»————- 📚 ————-««

the next few weeks seem to go by like a blur — maybe because you’re actually having a good time teaching the class and slowly growing more comfortable being a professor (you agreed to stick to namjoon’s syllabus only if he allowed you to teach your ethics of AI lecture) but also because this rivalry between the two of you seems to be keeping you on high alert 

after the croissant and the mug incident, the two of you only continued to one-up each other 

you replaced the sandalwood essential oil in the lecture hall with a refreshing peppermint (and you really doused it in the machine so it would take multiple cycles to be fully flushed out) and in response namjoon bought the entire jug of caramel syrup from the cafe so you’d be forced to pick another flavour 

and then you took all of namjoon’s sensible coloured whiteboard markers and replaced them with bright, fun ones forcing him to write in a fuschia pink and in response namjoon bought all fifteen croissants that day which felt kind of dramatic but at the same time you can’t help but kind of respect it

whatever

all you know is that you despise kim namjoon

every morning when you wake up, you’re thinking about how else you can terrorise him besides just taking the last croissant in the display case 

every night before bed, you’re thinking about how else you can make fun of his stupid powerpoint presentations and you even considered hacking his laptop and adding fun transitions to his powerpoints to throw him off

he hates fun transitions 

with that being said, you’re willing to put the fight on pause because today is an important day — it’s your first time leading a lecture! you’ve been prepping for this ethics in AI lecture and you’re more than excited to show the class (and namjoon) what you’re capable of 

and if all goes well, you will be rubbing this success in his stupid, handsome face. 

“handfphome?” you blurt out, toothbrush hanging out of your mouth as you blink at yourself in the mirror

oh 

oh no 

you don’t actually think he’s handsome, do you?

well, there was that one time he rolled his sleeves up to his elbows and when he turned around you couldn’t help but notice how broad his back was 

and that other time you were looking at his hands when he was pointing to something on his stupid powerpoint and you couldn’t help but think that he had such pretty hands 

and also he always smells really good — like a combination of smokey sandalwood and his natural musk 

and when you listen to him speak it’s really soothing because he has a deep voice that kind of makes you feel like you’re floating on a cloud being rocked back and forth

he’s also very intelligent and incredibly well-spoken

highly educated, charming in his own weird way (not with you, but you’ve seen the way he interacts with other professors), kinda funny sometimes, and you only know he’s single because you overheard two students whispering about it in the hallway — apparently they’d done a deep dive of his socials and there was no partner to be found, his instagram page was full of pictures of plants and quotes from philosophers 

so basically he’s a hot single nerd who’s really into philosophy and plants and you guys are only two years apart and hypothetically if you didn’t know each other and you saw him at the bar you would probably feel a little flustered if he flirted with you 

and maybe one time you watched him apply chapstick onto his plump lips and you wondered if they were as soft as they looked 

…

…

…

you take your toothbrush out of your mouth, your eyes widening in realisation and- 

“son of a BITC-“ 

»»————- 📚 ————-««

“would you let AI decide whether you get a loan? a job? parole? surgery?” you pause, letting the weight of the question settle over the students, “i know, it’s a crazy question. but maybe you already have… algorithms are making these decisions right now — sorting resumes, predicting crime, even diagnosing illnesses. AI is everywhere, and the question isn’t whether it should exist, it’s whether we should trust it…”

the only reason why namjoon is cooperating today is because you’ve (sort of) cooperated with his syllabus over the last couple weeks despite being a total menace to him personally 

yes, he’ll let you teach your ethics in AI lecture today because he’s interested in seeing what points you’ll bring up today

he can also tell you’ve been really nervous about leading your first lecture and he still remembers how nervous he was when he was in your position, so he’ll take it easy on you 

he caught you practicing your intro in the professor’s lounge and he slowly backed out so that you wouldn’t see him

and he’ll never say this to your face but from the intro alone it sounds like a pretty promising lecture

and it was kind of cute seeing you fumble with your cue cards and going over your lines with your eyes shut 

namjoon leans back against his chair as he listens to you speak, keeping his eyes on the back of your head as he crosses his arms over his chest 

sure, maybe you’re more than immature when it comes to buying his croissants and replacing his scented oils, but… 

oh god

does he respect you as an educator?! 

he pauses for a second to think, watching as you reach up to fiddle with a button on your shirt nervously 

also you actually dressed up today compared to your usual attire of a sweater and jeans and namjoon can’t help but notice that your ass looks really round in that pencil skirt 

he tilts his head slightly as his eyes continue staring at you from behind, the ooga booga man part of his brain wondering how it’d feel to grasp your waist and cup your ass as he- 

oh no

he feels his dick twitch in his boxers and he clears his throat quietly, looking down at the desk and focusing on a speck of dust instead 

oh 

what is this feeling? 

he’s pretty sure he hates you 

and he’s pretty sure you hate him, so it doesn’t make sense for him to suddenly be thinking about how sweet you smell and how pretty your smile is and how funny it actually was for you to buy the last croissant just to get on his nerves 

no 

nope 

you guys don’t like each other! 

that’s how this works!

you just came in here and totally messed up his flow and you just expect him to go along with it but he refuses to do that and after this semester is over he hopes they stick you in another building far, far away from him 

he doesn’t need anyone messing with his routine, and especially not some hotshot professor who just got her phd 

“now, some of my less adventurous colleagues-“ you step aside to reveal namjoon, and namjoon feels his jaw twitch when the class laughs lightly after you gesture to him, “would tell you that AI is a dangerous pandora’s box, something that we should fear. and sure, it’s got its problems… bias, accountability, control. but let’s not kid ourselves — human decision making isn’t exactly perfect, either. AI didn’t invent discrimination, it just inherited it from us. so can we teach morality to something that doesn’t feel?” 

“AI is a threat to ethical stability. we’re delegating moral decision-making to machines that lack genuine understanding, consciousness, or accountability.” namjoon butts in, standing up from his desk with a scoff, “how can we trust algorithms with decisions that affect human lives when they can’t even grasp mortality in any meaningful way?” 

you look at him, slightly surprised that he’s interrupted you this early in your lecture for a debate 

but sure, you’ll give it a go — the two of you haven’t actually debated over a subject before and you’re down to totally humiliate him in front of the class 

“dr. kim is a great example of what sounding like a doomsday prophet is, class.” you smile sweetly, fluttering your lashes at namjoon as the class breaks into a few giggles and chuckles, “AI is a tool. nothing more, nothing less. it doesn’t need to ‘grasp’ mortality than a calculator needs to ‘understand’ math. the ethical responsibility lies with us! blaming AI is like blaming a knife for stabbing.” 

“that’s a dangerously naive view, dr. y/l/n!” namjoon laughs, the two of you staring each other down as you stand at opposite ends of the desk, “AI systems are already making high-stakes decisions — these systems inherit biases from their training data and can operate in ways even their own creators can’t explain. if we don’t impose strict ethical guidelines, we’re ceding control to forces we barely understand-“

“you’re acting like we’re summoning some digital god that’ll enslave us all! AI doesn’t have agency — instead of fearing it, we should focus on improving transparency and fairness in these systems. ethics in AI isn’t about rejecting technology, it’s about guiding it responsibly-“

“guiding it-“ namjoon can practically hear his heart thumping in his chest as his frustration rises inside him, “guiding it responsibly?! and what happens when corporations prioritise efficiency over ethics? what- what about when governments exploit AI for mass surveillance? when biased training data leads to systemic discrimination? you’re placing blind faith in a system that rewards profit over morality- you’re playing a dangerous game, dr. y/l/n, AI isn’t just another tool, it’s a tool we may not be able to control. and your reckless optimism makes you too eager to hand over the reins-“

“maybe you just don’t like that i’m willing to embrace the unknown!” you throw your hands up into the air before pointing an accusatory finger at him, “maybe that unsettles you because you have everything planned to a ridiculous degree, like the temperature of your coffee and what time you eat your croissants-“ 

“what unsettles me is your inability to take this seriously!” namjoon presses his lips into a firm line, feeling his face heating up, “you act as if ethics in AI is some intellectual playground when in reality, it has life-or-death consequences-“

“oh, i take it very seriously, dr. kim, i just don’t think fear is the right response. fear clouds judgement, and i think you just like to have an insane amount of control over things-“

“well, excuse me! someone has to have control, someone has to make sure we don’t create something we can’t contain-“ 

“you always think you can contain things, don’t you?”

“and you always think you can push boundaries without consequences!”

“you’d be surprised how many boundaries can be pushed safely, dr. kim.” 

there’s a beat of silence between the two of you, the air heavy with something that doesn’t feel like loathing, but rather… 

you pause, remembering all of a sudden that the students should be debating with each other instead of watching their professors do it 

“uh-“ you turn back to face the class before letting out a chuckle, “let’s take twenty minutes to discuss this subject with the person next to you! dr. kim and i have to re-evaluate the structure of today’s lecture, please pardon us-“ 

the class breaks into discussion and both you and namjoon exchange glares as you head towards the door

the two of you stumble against each other and get caught in the door for a second, both of you wanting to be the first one out to lead the way 

“oh, get off me-“

“you get off me!” 

“what is your problem?!” you snap as soon as you leave the lecture hall, heading straight for an empty classroom nearby, “you’re supposed to let me lead this lecture, today was my day and you just couldn’t help yourself!”

when the hell is this going to end?! 

there’s no way the both of you can work together if he’s going to get this heated in a debate

and sure, he made some really good points and the nerd inside of you is saying that that really good debate session might as well been some form of foreplay but that’s beside the point 

“oh, please.” namjoon kicks the door shut behind him, “all we did was get into a debate, you should be glad i participated at all-“ 

“you know what, i actually do know what your problem is.” you whip around, jabbing a finger into his (firm) chest, “you’re just a little man who’s threatened by me because we both know i can do your job just as well — or honestly, even better than you can, and this is the first time you’ve had any sort of competition. i’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news but you just have to accept the fact that i’m going to be here and i’m sticking around for a long, long-“ 

“i’m going to kiss you, and if you don’t want that to happen, then tell me now and we can go back to the classroom and i’ll sit there quietly for the rest of your lecture.” namjoon interrupts, and your eyes widen as your breath hitches in your throat 

“wha-“ your voice cracks and you feel your face flush, “you- i’m sorry, what?”

“you heard me, y/n.” namjoon looks down at you, and you’re half expecting him to quit the act and say that he’s just fucking with you, but… “so what’s it going to be?” 

a moment of silence passes and you feel your thighs press together slightly when namjoon reaches up to loosen his tie slightly, his chest falling and rising in heavy breaths, “funny. you’re so quiet all of a sudden.” 

“i…” your lashes flutter as you stare up at him, “fine. you- we-“ you straighten your posture, trying your best not to show how flustered you actually are, “but make it quick because i have a lecture to-“

without another word, namjoon closes the distance between the two of you and in one fluid motion, presses his lips against yours and now you can finally confirm that his lips are as soft as they look 

you grip the front of his shirt to pull him closer, deepening the kiss with a fervor that matches the intensity of your back-and-forth over the last few weeks 

your lips move against each other’s as namjoon’s hands slide around your waist to pull you in even tighter, his body pressing against yours as if he can’t get close enough 

you’re breathless when the two of you eventually pull away, your cheeks flushed and your heart thumping wildly in your chest 

“this better not be some weird prank-“ you manage to blurt out, head still spinning from what was a very, very good kiss, “because i’m petty enough to call the catering company and tell them to nix the croissant deliveries entirely-“ 

namjoon laughs, leaning down for another kiss — this time softer, more deliberate — before pulling away with a playful eye roll 

“we’re gonna go back in and you’ll finish your lecture, and if you’re free tonight, i’d love to take you out for dinner.” he murmurs, and if you didn’t know any better you’d think he was being a little shy

it’s cute

“i’ll go out with you… on one condition.” you hum, reaching up to adjust his glasses for him 

“hm?” 

“next week you let me lead a lecture on examining the moral dilemmas faced by superheroes in film and comics — like how batman has a no-kill rule and-“

namjoon immediately groans as he turns and heads towards the door, “oh my god, you are infuriating-“

“what?! it’s a good subject!” 

🎙️ ask y/n about her thoughts on the nature of consciousness (talk to my characters!) 

📚 why not explore the rest of the library while you're here? (go say hi to yoongi and y/n in la vie en bonsai!) 

💫 or perhaps you want something shorter to read? (drabbles and mini series!)

🌟 or something even shorter? (teeny tidbits!) 

[mediumsizedapplecore]

credit: salmonella from pinterest

[benkaben]

What do you think the serpent symbolizes? | The Ugly Stepsister (2025)

[coffeanddepression]

Drawing Chara everyday until my birthday!!

Day 4

[ladamarossa]

Oddity (2024)

[teethburied]

All Dirt Roads Taste of Salt (2023) dir. Raven Jackson

[shadowsandcoffedripss]

Another day, another stimboard for our beloved psychos <3

🎪🎪🎪

🎪🎪🎪

🎪🎪🎪

[alwayspining]

Kissing scenes in Perfect Propose (2024) l dir. Tadaaki Hôrai

[knoxic]

Picrew but It's just elain and tamlin

picrew by @copypastus

[herewegobebe]

KEY The 2nd Mini Album 'Good & Great' | Work Week : Thursday [He's doing it for them 🐕‍🦺🐩 😭💞]

[vampirevatican]

Imagine the famous slashers from slashfic with. Bunnies

so, i feel like jay and leather are not out of place with this. like they're both really gentle with the bunny. now mike and ghost? I'd be surprised if they were but only a little. ghost i can see having a soft streak, but mike id definitely be surprised.

i feel like depending on the cost of the bunny jay and ghost would give it a fitting name... like snowball or cookies and cream.

[nutal]

Vile Temptations, Chapter 3: Starsick

(Ao3 link to the full chapter is embedded above.) Snippet:

Over Sera’s dead body would Lute ever even think to accept him as he was now or Hell. She was just built for Heaven, crafted to be a good, obedient little soldier. That’s how it’d always been.

Except for those moments when he pushed her just enough for her to crack.  

Moments he reveled in. Provoked more and more just to see her laugh or fluster for once, to prove she wasn’t nearly as untouchable as she tried to be, no matter how much she tried to shove any hint of realness down her throat. At times, she’d get hysterical. She’d laugh like a fucking maniac at the promise of danger. Hold her liquor at the bar and take a disgusting amount of shots like a champ after claiming to not drink. Get all riled up at him, and break the argument with the sexiest makeout sesh known to mankind, then go on to act like she’d done no real damage. 

But, fine—she wanted to be a tool? She could be a tool, but she was supposed to be his tool. 

His to order. His to grab. His to squeeze. 

His to bribe into getting him snacks from Heaven’s 24/7 convenience store past midnight while he filmed, laughing it up watching Lute trying to reason with the dweeby angel behind the cashier. It was the whole shebang. The struggling, stuttering, getting all tripped up over her words trying to explain how and why her totally-awesome boss was demanding some extra favors on the side.

And to be real, he was clearly the cooler commander.

Heaven’s only commander. Done deal, no contest.

[maskofgabriel]

[hearted-anon]

Humble beginnings, bold confessions. (AU)

Words: 2016 Note: For @jeongins-diary T/w: Rough?? I don't know they're silly Lee: Channie Ler: Minho

“Bring him to me.” Minho hissed through his thinly pursed lips, gripping the handles of his throne tight in his hand, veins popping through it. His other hand held the delicate masquerade mask in his palm, threatening to break should he put any more strength into its fragile details. The knights rushed out as fast as the command was given, scouring the feeble towns in search of who their majesty desperately needed.

“W-Wait, what’s happening?!” Chris shrieks as knights barraged into his home, eyes widening in complete shock. His heart swelled in fear, he knew all he was was a lonely villager here, what had he done so wrong to be called out by the majesty? His clothes were run down, holding a piece of almost expired bread in his trembling hands as the knights approached him, his lip quivering in panic.

“Nothing bad of sorts, your Majesty just wants to see you.” One of them explained kindly, noticing the absolute terror in Chan’s eyes. For a servant, he looked quite fearful of even stepping out of his house, while most would be filled with excitement and glimmers of hope of being able to catch a glimpse of the king himself. It didn’t seem to calm down the villager in the slightest, but he complied anyway, not wanting to disobey.

“G-Good afternoon, y-your Majesty…” Chan kneels down before Minho, his torn clothes stretching in agony as he falls to his knees onto the fabric of the carpet. He cursed himself internally for stumbling, panic-stricken that he made a horrible impression before anything had begun. Chris’s eyes refused to meet the other, wholeheartedly believing he wasn’t worthy of even being in his line of sight.

“Look up, look at me.” Chan heard footsteps graze the carpet gently, the smell of flowers hitting his nose made his heart pound out of his chest. Hesitantly, he lifts his head to meet the eyes of his ruler, brown eyes that pierced him in an instant. Chan could feel the lump that formed in his throat, pondering why there was a masquerade mask in Minho’s hand. Meanwhile, the cold ruler kneeled down on one knee to his level, still keeping his stoic expression.

Just then, Chris felt the mask around his face, freezing in shock. He recognised the mask, lined with intricate gold patterns that covered him, leaving only his eyes out to stare in his ruler’s gaze. This mask was given for the upcoming ball, one where every kingdom’s king or queen would attend with their partner, bonding with matching masks that signified their royal bond. However, why would Minho choose someone as lowly as him?

“I’m sure you know what this mask is for, am I right?” Minho stated calmly, as if he wasn’t deeming a servant of all people to be his partner. Chan knew well enough there were many other royalties more deserving of this title than him, him who was a worthless villager, him who could barely afford food and the rent, was not as worthy of such a title compared to others. He couldn’t take advantage of this opportunity, it went against his own morals, he would never betray himself for money.

“Y-Yes, but your excellency, shouldn’t you choose someone more worthy?” Chris stammered nervously, his voice muffled by the mask that concealed his anxious grin. He was afraid to deny his majesty’s orders, but this was absolutely ridiculous! There was no way he was allowing himself to be going to a fancy ball with divine treats that he wasn’t worthy of indulging himself in.

“I chose you for a reason.” Minho stated simply, carrying the villager off the floor bridal style as if he weighed nothing but a feather. Chan squealed, completely shocked that he was being treated this way, feeling his cheeks heat up seeing the ruler up so close. But before that, he shook his head in denial, trying to get Minho to come to his senses; Chris was clearly not willing to put Minho’s reputation at risk for anything.

Tossed onto the bed, Chan felt the mask being taken off his face, revealing his pretty tinted cheeks to his king. He tried feebly to hide himself away, but was immediately taken back into Minho’s arms, wrapped around his thin waist from behind. He heard the ruler sigh, he could feel the frown that was on his face. Chris wasn’t quite a wealthy guy, his food supply barely enough to keep him full; leading to starvation at least once a week.

“My humble servant, why is it that you are so thin?” Chan squeaked at the warm breath that brushed his ear, not expecting that his majesty got into such…close proximity with him. The villager frowned unexpectedly, not wanting to admit he was quite poor in his hometown. He felt terribly guilty for being taken under Minho’s wing, but knew better than to deny his needs.After all, his king was known for serving anyone’s head on a silver platter for his next meal that dared to go against his wishes, no matter of age or status, nobody was spared from the blade of his sword, covered in the prettiest of reds for himself to admire.

“I just…don’t have the money and-”

“I request that a full course meal be made right now.” Minho was quick to cut off Chris, snapping his fingers with a strict command that sent the maids running in a hurry. Although he didn’t want to admit it, Chan felt his heart flutter with butterflies at the kind action, his stomach doing flips that he refused to admit were true.

“B-But your Majesty, this isn’t necessary-” Chan babbled on, nervous and afraid that he was indulging himself too much into Minho’s kindness, held back by ropes of insecurity that pulled him down. He wasn’t worthy enough for these sweet treats that were being easily handed to him at the wave of a hand, all while he had done absolutely nothing to be needing it.

“Call me Minho. Oh you little servant, so cute and humble you don’t realise anything. I have chosen you because I love you, I watch you quietly in the shadows as you work, eating bread so lonely without my presence, I couldn’t bear the weight on my shoulders for longer.” Minho smiles warmly at his own explanation, making the tips of Chan’s ears go quite the bright red. Christopher Bang Chan, a servant that was poor and lived on his own, had captured the Majesty’s heart?! There was no way in any kingdom that Chris would believe this, as if he had come right out of a fairytale.

He felt himself being pulled out of his thoughts when hands squeezed his sides suddenly, making him squeal embarrassingly loudly. He shot a gaze at the culprit, who was grinning cheekily behind him. Everything was a blur, but why did it feel so good? He was going right against his morals head to head, but he felt himself slipping away into the feeling of being enamoured by none other than the only person that dared to pay attention to him.

“Cutie pie, would you like to attend this ball with me?” Minho asks at last, his mischievous smile morphing into a softer one, one that wanted to persuade Chan, one that was screaming with his confession and affection that was no other to be described as bold.

“Your Majesty, I can’t possibly accept this- WAHAHAIT!” Chan was quick to reject as he felt himself infatuated with the king, cut off by his own hysterics as fingers slipped under his thin cloak to his bare skin to rapidly squeeze his sides. Cackles ensued from the servant, shaking his head to try and dispel the energy that came with it. He didn’t get it, why was he suddenly being tickled out of nowhere?!

“Again, it’s Minho. And you can, because I want you to be there. Why, you think you’re not worth it? But hear that laughter, so sweet isn’t it?” Minho cooed sweetly into Chris’s ear, a stark contrast to the cruel ruler he was outside of these chambers. He could feel his cheeks heat up at the compliments, but alas, still adamant on pushing down the offer.

“NOHOHOHO! YOHOHOUR MAJESTY PLEHEHEASE!” Chan begged under the tickling fingers going rogue on his sides, squeezing, scribbling and skittering everywhere on the sensitive skin. The poor villager couldn’t take it, squirming like a fish out of water from the electrical shocks that coursed through his body. He heard a loud tut from behind him, before the hands pushed and his pants slightly.

“Last chance to address me properly and accept my love for you, or you’ll be punished severely.” Obviously that was a blatant lie, if anything Minho wanted to protect his feeble servant until the day he died, and would sacrifice everything he had on the line for him. His fingers slowed to gentle tracing on Chan’s sides, a predatory warning to what was going to happen if instructions were to be disobeyed.

“Buhuhut yohohour excellency, I’m suhuhuhre there’s behehetter people out theHERHE! WAHAHAIT NOHOT THERE!” Chan shrieked when the hands travelled right to his hips, kneading the hollows without an ounce of regret. Minho tsked above him, clearly not satisfied with his answer in the slightest. Falling into loud, boisterous laughter, Chris tried his very best to keep himself composed, failing very miserably under Minho’s fingers that tore him right apart from his insecurities.

“Not there? Not where? Your sides? Your hips, or right…” Minho leaned down behind him right onto the nape of his neck, blowing a loud raspberry to match the laughter that bounced off the walls. Chan howled with laughter, squirming fruitlessly in his majesty’s lap as he struggled to get anywhere, stuck right where Minho wanted to be. His cheeks were flushed a bright red down to his neck, eyes crinkled up as smile lines popped up on his face. His dimples made themselves known too, eagerly showing themselves off as his hair sprawled messily over his face from all the thrashing.

“I CAHAHAHN’T! MINHOHOHO! PLEHEHEAHAHAHA!” Chan pleaded breathlessly, finally getting one of the two things Minho desperately wanted from the servant, not letting up in the slightest. His fingers travelled to Chris's hip dips, tracing around the area before massaging it ruthlessly, sending his partner into what was described to be ‘the cutest sound he has ever heard been produced’, in other words shrieky cackles that had squeals in between.

“Too bad, I’m often inclined to be mean, unless you accept the fact you will be my partner?” Minho asked innocently, as if he wasn’t driving the love of his life crazy and practically dying in his lap as his teeth gently nibbled the back of his neck, making Chan squeal and kick out in desperate laughter. He knew his majesty was mean, but not in this way!

“YEHEHEHES! I ACCEPT! I ACCEHEHEPT! STAHAHAP PLEHEHEHASE!” Afterwards, the laughter was replaced by silent shrieks of mercy, Chan nodding so desperately to Minho’s questions, tears of mirth decorating his red cheeks prettily. The ruler let up, wiping away the tears tenderly as he cuddled the servant, dragging him down onto the bed without a second thought. Chan giggled away from the tingly aftermath, no longer were morals fighting against his brain, now replaced with the affection that he was starting to slowly let come to light and enjoy.

“We still have to change these clothes later, and your banquet. But for now, rest your eyes with me, please.” Minho whispered softly, kissing away the leftover tear stains on Chan’s cheeks in a chaste affection that was doubted to remain as platonic as it was for long. Chris simply nodded along, letting his eyes droop close into slumber. His muscles ached and his throat was hoarse, stomach rumbling as he shivered, but now under the warm embrace of Minho…

Maybe it wouldn’t be much longer in suffering, starting to accept being coddled in the love he was so used to giving back instead of receiving.

[mthollowell-writes]

"'Your future contains dry bones." Madame Peony Lane looks somber as she delivers the opening line of a fortune that will dictate the rest of Frances Adams's life.'"

Kristen Perrin, How To Solve Your Own Murder