#book nerd tings

[batfamilycannons]

BatBrothers as college students:

Dick: that one guy who’s always dressed wildly, you think he gets dressed in the dark till one day you accidentally find his Instagram and it’s all daily fashion blogs. No one’s particularly sure why he’s here? He doesn’t seem to give a fuck about any of his classes until it’s time for moral debates, then he’s all in with the most eloquent points.

Jason: A nerd, he’s the dude who you think got in on an spots scholarship until you realize he doesn’t play any sports. He can, and will, go on rants about old books in class. He looks terrifying but will proof read your papers. Corrects the teacher and is always right. Lives in the library (everyone wants to know how he’s so buff.)

Tim: The dude who only comes to half his classes, sleeps through the ones he does come too, always has an energy drink with him, the campus cryptid. Yet he has perfect grades, and when he gets called on in class (always in an effort to catch him off guard cause he was sleeping there’s no way he knows what’s going on) he always gets everything right, calls the professors by their first names. Generally terrifying. (Has been seen wandering the campus at random times of the night, dorm mate has never had a normal interaction with him.)

Damian: Perfectly dressed, always in class on time, dorm mate “disappeared” the first week in, always has the vaguest tinge of charcoal on his fingers, never take notes, perfect grades. Might have animals in his dorm.

[dropsofletters]

you're so-dium fine!

—SUMMARY: chemistry nerd and teacher jeon wonwoo is not so different from her; almost always with his head pressed in a book and ignoring unnecessary conversations, but she can’t still get a word across towards him. a man that beautiful shouldn’t walk around student grounds and she, as the school’s therapist, shouldn’t be ogling him that openly, either.

when a little mishap with bicarbonate happens to wonwoo, leading to her helping him get cleaned up, she realizes that each minute she spent trying to ignore him as not to get feelings for his obvious good looks and tender personality, was another minute she wasted of meeting a man that could, potentially, most likely, hopefully, worth it.

and he’s so damn fine, on top of all that.

—TITLE: you’re so-dium fine!

—PAIRING: jeon wonwoo x reader

—GENRE: chemistry teacher!au ; school’s therapist!au ; shy!wonwoo ; idiots in love!au ; strangers to friends to idiots crushing on each other to lovers!au

—WORD COUNT: 12,918 words

—TYPE: fluff ; over-the-top fluff ; humor ; suggestive if you squint.

—NOTE: this was a kofi request! if you want me to write something for you, go request over there!

She should’ve made a run out of it.

Not to say that she doesn’t enjoy what her job partakes; the help that a school therapist can muster in the life of high school students is important, but when she’s on her third cup of iced coffee to stay awake and just another call away from going back home, she’s feeling a bit desperate. All because she just felt like saying ‘yes’ to the commands her coworker, Taehyun, pleaded to as he spat out that he really needed to buy a gift for his girlfriend after having forgotten their anniversary and he was on the brink of getting broken-up with.

She tosses her head back after finalizing a call, inspecting her office and feeling awfully constricted in it. Her legs are sore from sitting down for so long and she squints at the desk parallel to hers, where Taehyun should have been attending his own students. Alright, maybe, it’s her fault. She knows the terrible outcome of being a people-pleaser, but she felt generous and kind today. The tips of his ears were red, eyes watered, not crying, but he was almost there and perhaps, the empath in her felt like doing a great action. The great deed shouldn’t have included four calls with four different students with their own issues to talk about, but…sometimes, that’s precisely what she gets for not saying a word.

Standing up comes with the cracking of her knees and a tinge of pain that shoots from her lumbar up to her thorax. She clasps a hand on the small of her back, moving over to the window and parting the white curtains in hopes of seeing students mingle around. Not a single one. The skies have started to turn orange, indicating that she should have gone home hours ago, and before she could sulk and turn bitter about the fact that she’s not in her very comfortable couch watching that Park Seo Joon film that she promised she’d watch, she pulls away from the window.

Now, off to walk to the resting room for teachers at the end of the hallway, where she’ll fill her coffee cup and finally, do the last call of the afternoon.

Her sneakers drag across the tiles after closing the door of her office with a slow movement. She doesn’t check if it’s truly closed, moving ahead with a yawn escaping her lips. She’s sure she’ll head to bed once she gets to her apartment, but even when the moment comes close, it feels awfully far. Not letting that thought linger inside her head, she swings her face from side to side in hopes of waking up, speeding up her steps so she can get her coffee, return to work and just finish for the day.

Though, as she hears a manly, quite raspy, screech coming from one of the classrooms, she is sure her afternoon will take an even odder turn.

Thinking it was one of the students that must have been in trouble, she drops her mug to the ground and moves over to classroom number 703. The door clashes against her palm, pushed open with a bang until she sees the culprit of the scream. It wasn’t a student asking for help, neither was it one of the janitors or even a rat passing by that happened to make too much noise. The first things she notices are a pair of long legs that fold over each other, crimpling against the material of the gray slacks, belonging to the man kneeled behind the desk, covered from what she can judge on his white button down and baby blue tie some kind of white chemical. Teacher Jeon, whom she recognizes as the chemistry teacher that joined their team a year ago, four months after her arrival, has his profiled nose scrunched up, glasses tinted in the same substance, heart-shaped lips parted in surprise.

In any other occasion, she would have ignored Teacher Jeon’s existence. Or Wonwoo, as everyone calls him around here. Not because Wonwoo is anywhere near mean, but because their personalities are just not meant to blend in together. He prefers not talking much, and in her case, she has a thousand opinions that she voices out at times, but she hides away in awkwardness after the societal anxiety attacks her, recoiling on what she just did. However, her anatomy moves to her own accord, clasping his hands that were pressed on the edge of the desk to pull him up.

“Goodness, are you okay?!” She questions him, ready to put him inside that shower they have in the chemistry classroom for when toxins or chemicals come in contact with the students. However, Wonwoo wipes at his glasses with the back of his shirt, leaving a small line of sight for him to peep through with his right eye before he extends his hands to his side.

“Yes, I just got…drenched…” His voice is uncommon to her, still. Even though they see each other every day, mostly when she comes into the resting room to microwave her food and he’s most likely having a talk with the good-old Teacher Gong, who extends his legs on a chair in front of him and prides on his soccer team as if they were his own children. He almost always gives her a short nod, a greeting and then, she returns it, before plopping her meal out of the microwave and leaving to the comfort of her office.

“You should wipe all that away from you—”

“It’s bicarbonate. Don’t worry.” Wonwoo explains, grasping a bottle that he had on the desk before she notices it. He was working on a volcano and judging by the numbers of materials and wrappers stacked on the surface, he clearly used too many ingredients. “The kids in my class wanted to have colored, non-chemical and non-toxic lava to come out of their volcano, and I had a few ideas but I didn’t want to try them in front of them in case they…” He rubs the back of his neck, exchanging a smile that bares his gums and has her looking away from him. The students that gossip about wanting to be in his class just because of how handsome he is aren’t wrong. “Saw me embarrassing myself. Which would be this.”

“I’m no chemist.” She says, pointing a finger towards the volcano. “Is bicarbonate supposed to explode like that?”

“I added soda, mixed with bicarbonate to have a white surface that we could color with…I don’t know, food coloring, and mints. The mint is what made it explode.” Wonwoo takes off his glasses, lurking to rub them on his shirt to wipe them, but he realizes just how messy the fabric is, as well. At the end, they look at each other, with him moving his hand at the same time that she does, face heated when she clasps the glasses in between her fingers and wipes them on her cardigan. “I wanted a real big volcano explosion, so I added too many, maybe.”

“Maybe?”

When she returns the glasses to him, Wonwoo has an ashamed smile on his features. “Sorry, I must’ve bothered you. I thought I was alone. If I knew, I wouldn’t have screamed…like that.” He tells her, stammering a bit before grasping the glasses in both hands and bowing the slightest. Alright, she may not be the best at public speaking, much less when Wonwoo hovers in elegance with just the nicest touch of simplicity.

“You…I mean, you scared me, not bothered me. Different things.” Shit, how does one talk to a good-looking man? Even worse, she has to see him every day, which includes some kind of nervousness that lingers on the pit of her stomach and has her cursing the moment he puts on his glasses, hoping that he doesn’t catch the racing of her breathing and the way she tugs at her clammy hands in front of her body. “You are sure you’re okay Teacher Jeon?”

“Should head back home to take a shower, take off these clothes and admit that my plan wasn’t really wrong, just a little bit over the top.” Teacher Jeon starts packing up his things, as well as tossing the envelopes in which the mints came in to the trash. “You’re going back home, too?”

He turns around from the squatted-down position he had taken in front of the trash and she stops looking at the length of his legs when she recognizes that he’s talking to her. “Huh?”

Wonwoo’s cheeks tinge pink, burning from within him and electrifying up to the tips of his ears. He coughs into his fist, once and twice, before he’s speaking again. “I think some of the bicarbonate got inside my throat. I asked if you happened to be going back home, too.”

“Uh…no.” She trails, interlocking her hands behind her back and swiveling on the heels of her boots. “I have another student to call and then, I’ll head home.”

“Are you sure you’re okay staying alone at the school at this time?”

“You were doing the same thing.”

Wonwoo shows the best of him when he grins. The corners of his eyes crinkle, cheeks rounding up, and while he doesn’t bare his teeth and only gives her a tight-lipped smile, it’s enough to warm and awaken her as much as caffeine would. “Bad decisions that I happen to make in the name of science.” He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Gosh, I can’t see a thing. Well, I’ll head home then.” He puts his backpack on top of his broad shoulders before quirking an eyebrow at her. “You have my number, don’t you?”

“Oh…I’m not sure.” She replies, lurking for her phone only to realize it is back in her office. “Why? Do you need me to check something while I stay here or—?”

“I want you to text me when you get back home safe. You take a bus, a taxi or—?”

“I have a car.”

“Okay.” Wonwoo replies, running his fingers through the messed-up and damp strands of his head, with none other than the white, bubbly substance that he dared call lava. “I think I have your number. It’s in the teacher’s group chat, so I will text you when I get back home so we can talk there. I’ll wait for the text, alright?”

The depth of his voice is the pacific ocean, but it does nothing to fill her heart with peace. Her heart hammers against her chest, perhaps because his face already does wonders, but his personality is what truly highlights the attractiveness of Jeon Wonwoo.

He moves towards the door, pointing at it. “I have to close. Don’t think I’m kicking you out.”

She opens her mouth to say something else, perhaps ask him something about him, how his day was doing or what group he was working with tomorrow just to keep the conversation going. However, she settles for what she knows how to say best. “Yes, don’t worry.”

With that, she’s waving at him, watching him when giving a few steps backwards towards the resting room. She almost trips on the mug she had dropped to the floor, losing her footing and earning a gasp from Wonwoo, who is ready to throw himself forward to catch her, but she stops herself before hitting the floor by extending her hands on the side. Fucking great, she’s made even more of a fool of herself.

She turns her back towards him when she watches his shoulders shake in silent laughter, eyes closed tightly and cursing under her breath before moving towards the resting room and closing the door behind her with a bang that points the obviousness of the quickness in her movements.

Alright, now that’s out from his line of sight, she can confirm what everyone, from teachers to students, say about Wonwoo.

That smile is what electrifies the edges of one’s muscled heart, contracting for him, beating to a rhythm that he doesn’t realize, but dances to the tune of his voice.

“Teacher Jeon should be expelled! He asked me to open a frog. That’s like…so not it.”

Drama is never lacking in a place where teenagers coexist, and she can understand where the student Minhee is coming from. She had not prepared for the class that they had planned with Teacher Jeon for the last month of the school year, perhaps not studying the anatomy and microbiology; for, as far as she understood, the biology teacher and the chemistry one wanted to be able to unite their classes and have something educative take place. In some way or another, as she was perching her notebook under her armpit to go to a few meetings, she was interrupted by junior claiming that one of the teachers was, quote-unquote, ‘teaching murder’.

Hence, she sat down with her and tried to calm her down to get the whole version of the story she had portrayed. Written like a drama would. Instead, what she got was the most innocent of answers, and she has never been happier that there is not an actual murder class happening under these roofs. Minhee has calmed down the slightest when the class is finished and she calls Wonwoo to her office, and he has never looked more adorable.

A pair of clear, safety goggles wrap around his face, black hair sticking out at some parts because of the elastic that keeps it in place. Wonwoo still wears a colorful tie, this time in the shade of green—quite ironic for the frog dissection that was taking place, the root of the reason she had called him. He doesn’t even realize he still has those goggles on when he spares a look at Minhee and asks:

“Minhee! I thought you had left to the bathroom. Are you feeling better?”

Minhee perks up her chin when he takes a seat next to her, wrapping her arms over her chest and adding: “Teacher Jeon, I was here talking about the absolute atrocity that is murdering frogs in front of everyone. That poor frog didn’t deserve to die, much less by a knife—”

“Alright, I think she has already given some hindsight on why I called you here.” And the only thing she wants to do right now is stand up from her seat and go have lunch so she can attend to real matters, with students that have severer problems instead of calling her because they wanted to skip class. “Minhee informed me that you were dissecting a frog and didn’t give her another option to be evaluated by. She doesn’t feel like studying a frog is appropriate.”

Wonwoo blinks a few times, lost in the words that are being told to him, before he turns on her wooden chair. He looks at Minhee, but said gaze goes ignored by the student. “I gave her the chance to only do the written portion of the evaluation because she stipulated that she didn’t want to dissect the frog beforehand. I asked the students if they were fine with dissecting a frog for the sake of having a practical biology and chemistry class, but I was the one performing the dissection alongside Teacher Long. It wasn’t…Minhee, God, we talked about this.”

 The perch of the student’s tongue against the expanse of her cheek says a little bit about her ridden-of-speech situation. Minhee swings back and forth on her seat, lurking for something to say, when she decides to interrupt: “Minhee, I understand where you’re coming from and your interest in animals and their well-being. I stand with you on that. However, if the teacher gave you options that went well with your belief to be evaluated, which is why you’re complaining the most, the fact that you decided not to do the written test falls on you. If you’re not going to perform the practice, it’s Teacher Jeon’s duty to make sure you have the theorical recognition of the subject.”

“I understand,” Minhee says before leaning back on her seat. She splays her arms on each of the armrests before sighing. “I—Uh, I still think the rest of the class is wrong for wanting to do this.”

“It’s the same frog we use every year. No frogs have been harmed since, at least, 2015.” Wonwoo recoils, sparing her a look before taking off his goggles. It takes strength not to stare at the sprinkles of pink that scatter across his face because of the heat, and the way he talks to his students is far more poised and smarter than she recalled him speaking when it was just the teachers getting together. Wonwoo has various sides to him, and his serious one is just as enchanting. “Minhee, is there anything you want to tell me directly? As your teacher, because this feels like it’s going somewhere it shouldn’t have.”

“I…” Then, her cheeks tinge pink. Minhee sits up, hoisting her books towards her chest and bowing deeply at Teacher Jeon. “I am sorry for the inconvenience. I’ll wait for you in the classroom after class with me and my team.”

With that, she’s giving her another bow before scavenging away from her office as if she hadn’t knocked on the door like a madman over an hour ago. That leaves her in complete silence alongside Wonwoo, who frowns at the door before shaking his head. A sigh escapes his lips and she almost thinks it’s paradoxical, how given he is to his job but how tired of it he looks as of right now. Perhaps, she’s projecting what she feels onto him, exhausted of the same four walls and the feeling of not moving forward. Instead, she clears her throat, extending her legs under the desk and accidentally touching his calf.

She moves away in the matter of seconds.

“I think Minhee was just trying to get away from the test. Don’t worry. I don’t think any differently of you, Teacher Jeon.” She tells him, for she knows that Wonwoo cares about his title as a teacher as much as the next person. If not more. He wants his students to learn, almost always ending up on the last day of school in every student’s picture, thankful for his will and hard-working nature. However, a simple student is enough to shatter that to the ground.

“I’m just surprised, that’s all.” Wonwoo mentions, widening his eyes for a fraction of a second. “I…I shouldn’t even be talking about this with you, but I had planned that class with all the good intentions and the fact that I had one of my students just barging out the door saying she won’t even complete the test was a surprise. It made me wonder if I’m just…too nerdy to be giving these kinds of classes. If I’m not as strong willed as some of the other teachers with more experience.”

“Teacher Jeon,” She can’t bear to listen to more of his insecurity, because he doesn’t deserve that seed of doubt that settles in his brain and will grow to be a tree far bigger than what it should. “Education is not about being strong. It’s about listening and shaping our students to have knowledge that will work for them in growth, studying methods and their future careers. I can let you rest easy by saying Minhee won’t be a chemist, most likely, and this is just another student trying to get away from a class. Like how they say they have an stomach ache and then, you see them downing a whole bag of sour candy. My job is to listen to students, but…” She trails her voice, almost losing her breath when she watches Wonwoo’s eyes glimmer when staring back at her, from under the fringe of his black hair, thus a few hairs had escaped their usual confines sleeked back by gel. “It’s also my job to listen to the teachers sometimes, and I know how you are as an educator, so don’t even worry.”

“I—Thank you.” Wonwoo’s cheeks lift up in a gentle smile and she thinks it’s the first moment she actually sees him baring his teeth when grinning. She had seen it in pictures, almost always wondering how he made a school photograph look so goddamned fine, but now, seeing it from up close, she gets to see the fold of his cheeks, the rosiness of his lips and how warm a simple gesture can be. “You never texted me that night.”

“Oh.” Now, she’s been caught by her shyness. She turns on the chair, pretending to be looking for something on her laptop, while she’s just clicking in and out of Google. “I…I didn’t want to bother, that’s all. You were kind that night, but I got out so late and—”

“I was worried.” Wonwoo completes, only to have her laughing softly.

“You shouldn’t be.”

“We may not be friends, but you’re my coworker. We’re one of the few people here who are young enough to support each other and not shake our heads at our own jobs by saying ‘younglings just want to pass students without doing much work’. Of course, I care about your wellbeing.” He stops for a moment, standing up and resting his hands in his pockets. “Hell, it wouldn’t hurt us to actually be friends. You support me. I support you.”

Friends. The term would come easily between the two of them if she didn’t remember the exact thought that passed by her head each morning when she came across Wonwoo. That he was over-the-top gorgeous, and judging by his actions alone, the way he organizes his textbooks and sheets of paper before a class to revise, how he silently listens but is also incredibly witty in everything he says, getting to know him would be even worse. It would mean that she’d end up, at least, liking him to an extent that isn’t professional.

She smiles at him, standing up and extending her hand towards him for him to take. Once their palms come in contact, she realizes by the bunched-up fabric of his button down that the veins in his forearms pop out the slightest at the force, clear sign that not only the nerd that is Teacher Jeon works out, but he does it so well that the button down is not enough to conceal the strength of his body. Well, if his shoulders were anything to judge him by…

“I’d like that.” She confesses, because attraction or not, she hasn’t been able to find a true friend here at the school. And she’s starting to become incredibly irritated just passing by the entrance door of the establishment. Perhaps, all she needs is someone to brighten her day, be it with endless conversation or just by a smile from that nicely sculpted face of his. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, Teacher Jeon, I have a few appointments with the students—”

His cheeks turn crimson, nodding profusely as he lets go of her hand. What a bummer, it is to feel, the tingling of emotions that transcends from her thorax, her heart and towards the tip of her fingers, aching to interlock with his and keep him in place. That’s not appropriate, much less something that friends—who are purely friends in a professional manner—would do. Instead, she concentrates on the way he parts his lips to speak.

“Sorry for the inconvenience once again.”

“Sorry for never telling you when I got home.”

“Well, I’ll text you once I get home this afternoon. Just to check up on you.” When she doesn’t reply anything to that, petrified by the fact that he’s so utterly nice and handsome at the same time—if that’s even possible—, he counterparts. “…As a friend. Friends text each other all the time.”

“Absolutely. Friends.” She tells him, walking over to the door as he does just to keep it open as he says his goodbyes. And she’s enamored by the way her name goes past his lips as he waves at her through the air of uncertainty.

Better not think that way about her new friend.

If she had been asked earlier this school year to attend the seniors’ last school trip before vacation and their small step into adulthood, she would have said ‘no’. Indeed, she thinks she denied the idea back then, too, but the principal was adamant on having all the teachers there. For extra care, she had said. Apparently, this class of students was a tad bit wilder, and while they were just staying at a camp for two days to share marshmallows and tell ghost-stories, while being near a lake and living through the woods for the slightest bit, the vape that they had found on a students’ backpack just a week ago while in student grounds was enough to have her there. Just in case.

Now, she’s starting to regret it.

Her roommate, the math class teacher, snores like a bear in the middle of hibernation, mouth widened, saliva trailing onto their shared bed, thankfully not her pillow. So much that three in the morning strikes the clock when she decides to stand up and make a run out of it. Wrapped tightly in her fluffy, white blanket, she tip-toes out of the small cabin and walks into the center of the camp. Where the numbered doors shine in their green wood stance, under the lonesome yellow light from a pole not too far and the stars that scatter across the sky. She had heard from the principal that there was a cabin that was only meant for activities for the students—like dynamics and playing-time, but fuck it.

Sleep-ridden and a bit dazed, she walks, half-tripping on her bunny slippers before reaching the cabin’s door. She twists the doorknob, happy to find it unlocked, smelling the scent of turned-off candle-wax, hearing the swishing of trees, clashing against each other’s leaves because of the wind, before she plops herself on the ground with a sigh.

That’s when she hears moving around from a spot near hers on the floor. She sees a silhouette, big and unrecognizable, enough to steal a scream away from her lips as she lifts a hand in the air and slaps whatever animal is in the cabin with her.

“Ouch! God!”

“Wonwoo?”

She didn’t think of bringing her phone with her—sadly—but Wonwoo makes quick work on igniting a lamp that he had brought with himself. Golden hues scatter across his easily-recognizable features, though a bit different with his glasses off. His hair messes up on the bangs, parted by the force of the pillow that she now realizes is underneath him and he has his phone on one hand and a half-eaten cookie on the other. Wonwoo shows the expanse of his shoulders as his yellow sweater falls off one shoulder, squinting his eyes at the harsh light.

His eyes trail across the blanket wrapped around her, placed like a burrito around its contents, though he puts on his glasses as if to inspect her further. She moves farther away from him, covering the bottom half of her face with her blanket before saying:

“I didn’t know it was you. I just…saw a strange figure that looked like a bear and I started to hit it.” She commands, only to have Wonwoo frowning before laughing joyfully. Even at this hour of midnight, he looks like he couldn’t enjoy life more.

“So, you’re brave enough to go around hitting a bear? It would’ve eaten you, no questions asked.” Wonwoo reiterates, making her think about her decisions. Her fight-or-flight reaction was probably not the best to use when she’s in the middle of the woods, scattered around a bunch of teenagers. Had they heard her scream? “Any reason why you couldn’t sleep?”

“How do you know I couldn’t sleep?” She questions, only to have Wonwoo leaning back on his pillow once again. He runs a hand through his hair, unlocks his phone and munches the rest of the cookie he was eaten before she had so-rudely interrupted him.

“Your eyes are a bit puffier. Also, no one roams a camp around three in the morning without any apparent reason. If we’re including the blanket, that’s another sign.” Damn him for being smart. She remains seated still as he opens a bag of cookies that he had next to him, the scent of cinnamon flickering against her nostrils and stealing a grumble from the depths of her stomach.

“My roomie snores like a bear.”

“Ooh, so that’s where the bear thing is coming.” Wonwoo jokes around, offering her a cookie which she accepts gladly, giving it a slow bite as she lets the savory sweet intertwine with her palate. “I was assigned to stay with the soccer team in one cabin, but if I had to hear one more kid say ‘bro’ unironically I was going to lose it, literally.”

She chuckles, resting her cheek against her blanket before taking another bite of her treat. “I thought this was supposed to be like a play-room.”

“Reason as to why I came here. The principal gave me the keys so I took charge of it because I’m supposed to wake up the earliest because I’m the youngest.” He dangles the bag he has in his hands to have the cookies coat with the substance that lays on the bottom of the plastic before munching on another one. “Hence, no one will enter here other than myself. I must have forgotten to knock the door—”

That’s when she’s awakened of her sleepy state. Of course, Wonwoo planned on sleeping here on his own. How would she even be able to stay in the same cabin as him? “Oh, right. I should be leaving then. You must’ve been asleep.”

“Nope.” Wonwoo conquers. “I was playing Animal Crossing,” He waves one hand in the air before rubbing his cookie-dusted hands on his shirt. “And then, I was trying this set of cookies my real roommate gave me before we headed on this trip. I thought they would taste like burnt hell, as if hell could burn, but Soonyoung didn’t do half as bad as I thought he would.”

“This Soonyoung guy, you don’t trust very much.”

“With everything except my kitchen, thank you.” Wonwoo replies, quirking an eyebrow at her before extending one of those ungodly trained arms behind his head. She’s fighting against her will to look him directly in the eyes and not elsewhere. “You don’t look very happy to be here.”

She shakes her head, honest and curt as ever. “Mosquitoes are biting my ankles. I don’t really like the fact that I’m surrounded by the kids I look at every single day. The principal is getting on my nerves with the whole against-vape campaign that he’s making us do and—” Realizing that she’s speaking too fast, she looks at him from the corner of her eye before chuckling. “I would have preferred to start my summer break earlier. I don’t know, my bed misses me, and sleeping on a hard-wooden floor is not really my style when I can’t even sleep well on a bed most times.”

Wonwoo takes her words as a grain of salt, internalizing it before he’s up his feet, getting out of the sleeping bag he brought with himself. “Use it.”

“Wonwoo, no—”

“I don’t know if it’s the midnight haze or the fact that it’s the first time we talk as friends apart from our texts.” That normally consist of exchanging series recommendations, but she won’t say that out loud. “But it’s the first time you call me Wonwoo and open up about something that truly bothers you, so—”

“I’m not accepting it.”

“Accept it or I won’t forgive you for the whole bear-smacking thing.” Wonwoo threatens, though nothing about his face could ever feel like a threat. He organizes the sleeping bag before placing his hands on his waist, as if waiting for her to move.

“No.”

“God, don’t be stubborn.”

“I’m not being stubborn! I just want you to be comfortable—”

Before she could finalize her sentence, she feels Wonwoo’s arms hoisting under her knees and behind her back, lifting her as if she didn’t weight a thing before carefully settling her on the sleeping bag. The worst part is when he pulls away, because his breath cascades over her face as he fixes the blanket she had around her body over her frame before patting a hand against her shoulder.

“Now, off to sleep.”

“Wonwoo…” She trails, a whine to her tone that has him humming as he fixes his slim blanket to rest on top of his body, his frame entirely on the hard floor. “You could’ve slept so much better with this.”

“I can’t hear you.”

“You hear me completely.”

“I choose not to hear you complain about me putting you first for once.” Wonwoo whispers, putting the bag and his phone aside before sighing. “It’s not wrong to be selfish for once. I’ll be fine, just sleep so we can wake up for the group activities and get this trip done and over with.”

She smiles at the ceiling, calling him name once again and getting a hum.

“…You didn’t really like coming to this trip either, did you?”

“I, also, happen to dislike singing hymns about not vaping.”

That steals a loud chuckle from her mouth, covering it up as the flutter of butterfly wings settles on her chest, only because of him.

“Night, Wonwoo.”

“Or morning, respectively.” He corrects, a low-toned laugh spared by him. “Good night.”

“Today, we’re doing an egg race!”

…It’s about time for her to run away from this summer, pre-graduation getaway. This is it. The moment physical interventions such as exercising happen is the second she decides enough is enough.

She ventured into the sun with her own umbrella, ready to lean back and watch the students spend the last day of the camp enjoying the company of one another. As a matter of fact, she imagined the principal would ask for more ‘sentimental’ activities to take place. Nonetheless, a race while holding an egg is not really what she imagined. The worst part is that a group of students wanted her to be part of their team, as their leader nonetheless, and she wanted nothing more than to run away. As in, the other direction, not towards the finish line.

Maybe, running to the entrance of the camp is not really that bad.

She’s not dressed for the occasion, either. While all the other teachers, in hopes of being picked for a team, had worn their best school-themed t-shirts and shorts, she’s left in her jeans and her sweater, swatting away mosquitoes with a book that now is left abandoned on her seat. However, as she’s standing alongside all the other teachers, she voices out her concerns.

“Guys, I’m not really dressed for this and I don’t think I feel all that well—”

Jiho, one of the youngest of the class, takes her by the shoulders and speaks in a rushed tone: “Come on, teacher, you’re one of us now. We’re the best team there is, so we chose you for a reason—”

To lose. That’s precisely the reason they didn’t intend on choosing, but what they were capable of getting.

“I’m being serious.”

“Please, just do it for us.” Another student pleas and she groans, getting into position and hearing a seas of hollers that trail behind her as they cheer her name on.

When looking to the side, she knows she’s doomed. Wonwoo was also picked by a team of students, his black hair pushed away from his forehead by a elastic band, wearing the camp-themed t-shirt everyone had decided to sport and shorts that cling to his long, sculpted thighs. Once the beeping from the referee interposes in between the seas of teachers, they start running, her hand carefully wrapped around the spoon, giving long steps but not enough to keep up with the man that has already sprinted into the finish line.

Wonwoo has a smile to his features, enjoying the game as he manages to rush without dropping the boiled egg on his spoon. Soon after, even the students that had been cheering for her are clapping and laughing along to the other teachers trying to keep up with him, so, for some reason, she wants to be able to have that smile that he has painted across his face. She stops holding back, sprinting on her own and laughing when the egg falls miserably to the floor, reaching the finish line being third or fourth, but that’s not what surprises her.

It's Wonwoo, who had obviously finished first, seeing her with sweat pooling at his forehead and a hand still holding the spoon as the principal, with all the glory basking her tone, grasps his hand and lifts it to the air to say: “We have a winner! All cheer for Teacher Jeon!”

Though, what they don’t expect to happen is for Wonwoo to accidentally drop the egg at the motion, causing his eyes to widen and a bead of silence to fall upon the seas of people before they cheered for him again. She moves closer to him, giving him the towel that her team had passed over to her before he shakes his head: “You totally did this. Made me lose my focus so I would drop the egg.” His voice is hushed and perhaps not heard as the students take pictures of their teachers and start making loud-voiced jokes, but she nudges her side with her elbow.

“Not really, no.” She answers, inspecting his features as he passes the towel she didn’t use over his forehead. She should really stop looking at him from up-close if she doesn’t want this crush to go any further. They are supposed to be just really good friends. “Wait, did you just say I made you lose focus?”

Wonwoo finally puts on his glasses again, stammering a bit as the tips of his ears grow roses on them, perfect in color. “Oh…Did I say that?”

“I heard that, yes.” She comments with a chuckle, only to have Wonwoo shaking his head.

“God, I make things awkward, don’t I?”

“Why would it be awkward?” She questions, though when his eyes divert elsewhere, counting the leaves hanging from the trees over them, she realizes that, maybe, just maybe, Wonwoo doesn’t see her as an absolute friend completely. He could think of her the same way she does him; as a friend that could, coincidentally, pass over the barrier that is the friendzone and they would turn a blind eye on it before feigning surprise over the trespassing. “So, last day of being here and you’re officially the graduates’ favorite teacher.”

“Seems like it.” Wonwoo announces, speaking lowly. “They still love you.”

“Oh no, they don’t.”

“Yes, they do. The students are always talking about how no one hears them like you do.” He peels the towel away from his face, resting it on his shoulder and spreading his hands on his waist to breathe in deeply. He doesn’t look tired, while she’s still trying to manage their breath. “Last day of being around the kids also means I’ll have to find more…ways of us to meet as—”

“Friends.” They both say at the same time, only to smile at each other before she hums. “I think so, yes.”

“Teacher Jeon!” Minhee says, and while she had gathered the information that she didn’t pass the test that Teacher Jeon performed on her because she hadn’t studied, she seems like she doesn’t hold any grudges as she wraps her arms around their shoulders and drags them to the center. “Come take a picture with us!”

“Uh, I’m not really—” She starts lurking for an excuse when Minhee tugs them down, smiling towards the camera that is set in front of them.

“Say cheese!”

When she looks to the side, she catches a glimpse of Wonwoo’s careful smile. His head is tilted, elastic half-undone at this point, bathed in a pink glow that captures her amazement when the flash shuts off. The picture, sadly, shows her looking directly at Wonwoo and she’s mortified at the idea of the students seeing it, but when Minhee lets them go and he immediately goes over to say:

“Let me take a picture with you.”

She almost forgets that she must have made a fool of herself.

Wonwoo’s arm wraps around her shoulder, holding a peace sign in the air as the students start screaming from their spots. Some are just excited, while others are mumbling to each other as she mimics his pose. They have a few fingers of distance between each other as not to make it uncomfortable or unprofessional, but the warmth he emanates and the heat of his skin has her wishing to stay in this position forever. Even closer, perhaps. Though, that will obviously not be possible.

She rushes to look at the pictures in the camera, where everyone gathers just to see the obvious. She’s looking at Wonwoo in the group picture, hearts practically plastered in her gaze upon just being close to him, but the sternness of the line in which her lips are perched in could be confused as just being uncomfortable and awkward in front of a camera. When the head of the photography team of the school switches to the other picture, she wants it framed in a portion of her heart that no one can reach.

They look like friends, but some pictures just transcend towards the skin, gleaming and burning, tracing portions that could be felt even from afar. She feels hugged by Wonwoo just by that picture alone, and he must feel the same, judging by the smile he has on his face.

Or maybe, she’s reaching. This could be just a very pure friendship.

Delayed flights and cancelled trips lead up to here. To him. She would have never thought that her otherwise lonely summers would be filled with the image of Wonwoo, be in the light casted from her phone as she sits with her family across the table, smiling at texts that he has sent of memes that reminded her of him. Or, as a matter of fact, when she returns home after feeling like she’d stay at the airport for a little longer than necessary—forever, she means—. Wonwoo invites her over to his place time and time again, most of the time to play games with her and share dinner, coated in the grease, hidden or not, that takeout is characterized by.

Wonwoo has a red lollipop in between his lips today, using one hand to play Mario Kart with her on the old Nintendo console that they both had hidden in between their things. She’s in her own console, last place, but inherently confused and distracted by the perfect curve of Wonwoo’s lips and the tranquility he exudes when in his household. His apartment is a tad bigger than most, thanks to his hours of hard work, but that’s the least of his worries. He wraps his mouth around the lollipop again, sucking it in, coating his lips in a red shade that she’d kiss if given the chance.

“Are you even trying to win?! Come on!”

She pulls away from her train of thought at that exact moment, returning her gaze to the Nintendo and continuing with her game. Striking over bananas and causing a chaos along the way, but she’s chuckling. Something that seems easy to do with Wonwoo. “I’m just awfully losing at this point. No point in trying to save myself now.”

“Don’t give up that easily,” Wonwoo responds, though he has already won the game, leaning back on the comfortable couch, a cushion pressed against his abdomen as she turns off the console with a quick swipe of her finger against its side. “Hey!”

“I don’t like losing. Not made for me.” She says, earning an eye-roll from Wonwoo, who lifts the cushion in the air before pressing it to her face in a playful manner.

“That’s how a loser would speak. You’re a game-ruin-er.”

“That’s the concept gamers are trying to push to replace party-poopers.” She adds, toying around with the cushion as she avoids it pressing to her face. A spurt of laughter leaves her lips when she pushes his hands away and ends up with his wrists pressed to the backrest.

Wonwoo looks up at her with a surprised expression, her knee pressed to his thigh to keep him in place, strands of his hair intertwining with his glasses and covering a bit of the gleam that shadows his eyes. She realizes the closeness then, when the scent of the strawberry lollipop he had merges in between the two, sweetening the atmosphere, dazing her at the warmth he emanates and the sudden need she feels to try the dulcetness of his mouth, clashed against hers in a battle not for dominance, but for speaking through actions.

“Ooh, this is spicy. Reminds me of that one drama I watched last week.”

A half-muted screech leaves her lips when she pulls away from Wonwoo, who does so much as move the slightest before frowning at Soonyoung’s appearance. She knew that he was somewhere around the house, but she had not noticed when he slipped into the living room. Soonyoung is not a teacher, but a dancer trying to open his own academy, so he knows about education…and manners, apparently. He has a smile plastered on his features, brown hair parted in the middle and framing his rounded cheeks, as he leans on one of the walls, arms crossed over his chest.

“Soonyoung, is there anything we could do for you?” Wonwoo prompts, and that earns a wiggle from Soonyoung’s eyebrows which has her body heating up entirely, from head to toe. If he hadn’t gotten there, would she have surpassed the invisible line of friendship and kissed him as if her life depended on it? She’s not sure of it. Probably not. Actions as such wouldn’t come so easily to her. “That doesn’t include you being a voyeur.”

Soonyoung claps his hands at the delighted laugh that leaves his lips, and she’s a bit surprised that Wonwoo says that out loud with so much ease. Perhaps, there is a bit of bite to the man she is slowly falling for. Is that the word? God, thinking had become more complicated than usual now that Wonwoo is in her life.

“I wanted to ask you if you wanted to go grab dinner with me. I was on Yelp and found this Peruvian restaurant nearby that I wanted to try.” Soonyoung says, battling his eyelashes as he pulls away from the wall. “And considering that when one third-wheels, one gets their meals paid, I wouldn’t be against to going with you two.”

Wonwoo blushes in all the possible shades of pink as he stands up, tossing a look over his shoulder. “Are you okay with having Peruvian? I’ll only go if you want to.”

She thinks about it for a moment, trying not to get lost in the way Wonwoo’s hand splays forward for her to take. She intertwines the tips of their digits together, barely grazing as she stands up, nails coming in contact with each other when she pulls away. Electrified by the motion that is Jeon Wonwoo, a movie that displays just for her to enjoy. “Of course, I’m feeling hungry and getting my ass kicked on Mario Kart is probably not how I expected this day to go.”

Wonwoo looks at her for a fraction of a second longer, toying with a strand of her hair before pushing it past her ear before shrugging. “I’ll lose next time. Just for you.”

“That’s a shocker coming from you—”

The sound of the shutter of a flash has both of them looking over at Soonyoung.

“Soonyoung, I swear to God—” Wonwoo threatens, only to have Soonyoung clasping his phone towards his chest.

“You’re just too cute together, don’t blame me.”

“You’re totally paying for our meals.”

“But—”

Wonwoo widens his eyes comically, which has her sniffling a laugh into the sleeve of her shirt. “I said what I said, Soonyoung.” Though, she knows how Wonwoo is, and at the end, he might end up paying for his meal—and hers, but she always goes against it—. “I’ll grab our coats.”

He moves over to the hanger near the entrance, pulling her coat and inviting her to get in. Once she does, his hands wrap around her forearms, hoisting the length of the sleeves to fit around her wrists snugly. He’s looking down, while her eyes are forever settled on him. Counting the stars in the speckles in his eyes, shining just for her.

Please, let it be just for her.

“There.” Wonwoo mumbles, turning around to grab his own coat and leaving her with a dazed feeling rising from within her chest.

Please, let him be hers.

Routines shouldn’t feel comfortable, much less should she sparce portions of her in the life that Wonwoo breathes and goes through. When entering Wonwoo’s car, one can notice that her favorite jacket is still draped on the passenger’s seat, and that, most of the time, he buys her favorite bubble tea for her to have on the way to his apartment. Sometimes, he stays over at her place, but it’s a very rare occurrence—for, believe it or not, her neighbors are a little too loud for her to enjoy the quietness that Wonwoo exudes. As she’s seated on the car, she watches the polaroid that they had taken on the last day of the students’ trip hanging, rolling with each swivel of the wheels that Wonwoo makes to create a turn and she’s…comfortable with it.

She leans back on her seat, listening to Wonwoo speak about this fishing trip that he’s planning on partaking on with his dad, head tossed back on the seat, ever-so-relaxed even when driving at night. He still has his seatbelt on, but she remembers him saying that he was too full to even close the seatbelt on top of his torso. On that same line, she ate like a madwoman, bloated against her shirt, and she still didn’t feel the slightest bit self-conscious. The magic that he gives into this world comes with comfort, hearing him speak with endless poise and expertise, as if every sentence was constructed to deepen the storyline that he represents and gives to the world with so much ease.

She blames the people that hurt him in the past for making him such an empath, enough to translate each of his words into the most respectful of stances. And when Wonwoo turns to look at her for the briefest of seconds, she realizes that she has left portions of herself in him, too. In the words that he didn’t use before but now repeats ironically, just by spending almost every day together. He quirks an eyebrow when pulling up in front of her apartment, patting a hand against her knee before undoing her seatbelt.

“We’re here. You spaced out.” And she doesn’t feel the slightest bit ashamed of staring endlessly at Wonwoo’s face, tracing the outline of every doodle of his face that the universe had created for him to sport. When he aims to pull away, she doesn’t let him, splaying one hand on his arm and tracing the skin with the tip of her finger. That causes him to breathe in deeply, sending a smile her way that is a little too close to her mouth. “Anything you want to say?”

She’s tired of speaking, because she has never been that talkative, but with Wonwoo just feels so easy. She just wants, for once, that he reads in between the lines and justifies the motions of her body. Confirming what has grown for the past month, perhaps close to busting like a bubble would do in the air if she lets this aching in her chest prolong any longer. “I just want us to stay like this…” She mumbles, earning a hum from Wonwoo.

He leans over the seat, resting his elbows on her thighs before looking into her eyes. “This close?” Though he doesn’t pull away, drawing the lines of her face with his gaze, claiming with one lonesome look what she deems as imperfect to be precise and flawless. “What’s the matter?”

“Should there be a matter for us to be this close?”

“Mhm, not really…” Wonwoo trails, breathing mingling with hers. Her eyes feel heavy enough to close on their own, but she doesn’t want to miss a bit of what Wonwoo represents. That blurring line between love and friendship that feels so comfortable, exactly what she wanted when she woke up to an empty bed. “But I need a reason. I’m a man of science.”

“So am I.” She tells him, tracing his cheekbone before caging his cheek in her hand, breathing out deeply. She swears she feels his body shiver, a palm spreading across her thigh and caging it in a tight hold. “I have a reason for this, but I can’t voice it out.”

“Why not?” Wonwoo asks in between a complaint and a whisper.

“It’s embarrassing.”

“It’s not something I don’t know already, that’s for sure.” Wonwoo, confident under all his shyness, replies before leaning forward just a bit more, until their lips are almost closing in together. “I really want to kiss you. May I?”

She doesn’t say much more, because, of course, he had to be knowledgeable of what has grown between them and the consent that she expected out of him. Leaning in, she captures his mouth in a soft kiss, trapping his upper lip in between her own and sighing out of delight at the taste of the tea that mingles in his mouth. He sighs in spurts, a careful hand reaching for her neck as he moves her to the side to deepen the kiss. It’s then that she pulls him by the waist, as if inviting him to hoist over to her seat.

“I’m too heavy.” Wonwoo says, only to have her shaking her head.

“It’s just a few kisses. I won’t die, I promise.” That gains some laughter from him, and if the car was more lighted, she would see him hiding in embarrassment, perhaps. His strong thighs sparce on top of her own, parting and granting himself entrance to her mouth once again. This time, he pecks her lips a few times, before he dives in completely, mindfully roaming the outline of her bottom lip before tasting her tongue. Skillful. Obviously prepared. Strategical and logical even when kissing.

She cages her hands on his hips, keeping him in that spot and hearing him say her name in a mumble. Maybe, she must think of not falling in love with Wonwoo—because of what students or their representatives could say if they were ever to know. Because falling for someone that seems so fitting for her will only hurt more when she realizes that there are things that they won’t connect with in each other’s lives. However, she keeps going, only because kissing him feels like she has finally been found in the island of solitude that is waiting for true love. For him.

She has always wanted him. Not someone like him, but Jeon Wonwoo himself.

She may have fallen before he did, but in the way he kisses her, she knows that he’s still just as nervous, waiting for the next move but also giving a few steps in the dark. Without knowing, she’s mumbling that she likes him against his mouth, which causes him to kiss her with more fervor. Not without missing that beautiful smile that he lets slip in between a few of their mouth-to-mouth action.

Certainty seems to fit them right now.

Wonwoo has been absolutely obsessed with this coconut bread that he buys on a bakery near her home. As a matter of fact, he has insisted on their dinner times to be there now that Soonyoung has found a new person to date and has partaken the couch in which they normally lingered around in. He hasn’t voiced out the obvious, what the kisses and the lingering touches mean, what the ‘good morning’ texts aspire to be, but she’s certain that there is something. Some comfort and title that is just unspoken about as of now.

He is only midway out of the bakery, his glasses on the crown of his head, when he opens the paper bag and gives her one of the heated, soft breads. He dangles one from his mouth, closing the bag and putting it inside her purse before he continues to munch on it. “This is heaven on earth. I’ve never loved anything more than I do this.”

She’s happy to see him so content, much more when the school year is mingling to come any time soon. Just nine more days and they’ll be back to their routine. “I like them, too, but was it necessary to wake me up this early to come pick them up?”

Wonwoo turns around, walking backwards and nodding at her words. “Of course. They are the softest at this time of the morning.”

“We could’ve slept more and used the microwave to have them soft and warm.”

“Not the same.” Though, Wonwoo looks forward once again, walking by her side and placing his arm for her to slot hers through. Once she does that, her habit becomes apparent, even when their arms re close, she needs to have their fingers interlocked. It makes her feel closer to him. “Besides, I want to have you some more time for me before we have to go back to hell on earth.”

“School. And you love your job, liar.”

“I do.” Wonwoo replies, his eyes widening once they feel a few droplets of rain fall on them. The coldness surprises her, letting go of his hand to pathetically place her hand over her head to keep her from the rain, growing stronger by the minute. “Shit, was it supposed to rain today?”

“I’m not sure! We got out too early and I didn’t check the weather.” Before they could get some roof and shelter to protect them from the water, the rain pours with more strength, causing Wonwoo to chuckle as he puts on his glasses and extends his hands on his sides, walking in circles in approval of not having anyone around them. “You’re going to get sick, Woo. Come here.”

“No.”

“Wonwoo!” Though, she’s chuckling when he uses his hands, now that they are free of the bread he had just eaten, to wrap around her waist. Her hair plasters to her vision, not being able to see Wonwoo completely as he bares his teeth in the most gorgeous of smiles. He’s deepening her waist the slightest, hovering over her.

“Tell me this is not the most romantic thing that has happened to you.”

“Having to do the laundry after this isn’t…” She mumbles, pushing his hair away from her face before pressing a sweet kiss to the corner of his mouth. “We’re really going to get sick.”

“Our first flu together as a couple. Doesn’t sound so bad. We’d have to be locked in our houses for a while. Maybe, not start the school year so early…” She knows Wonwoo would never be irresponsible enough to do such thing, but she forgets the last part quickly when she remembers what he said first. Couple. He had called them a couple.

“Did you just say couple?”

Wonwoo frowns, pulling away from her a fraction of a centimeter. “Huh, are we not…?” He trails, only to have her resting both of her hands on his chest, forgetting the half-eaten bread on her hand, damp because of the rain, probably uneatable as it lays on the ground. “I mean, I never asked, but we…we have been going out as a couple for a while now.”

“Those are things you need to say! Now, I don’t know when our anniversary is.”

“Hey! I just…I thought we were on the same page. I thought you considered me your boyfriend!”

“I was waiting for you to ask me officially, though.”

Wonwoo chuckles, deep and with a rumble to his chest that has him shaking against her body. Or he could be cold, she doesn’t know because he’s not listening to her about the possibility of getting cold out of this romantic action that he wants to perform. “Alright, today. This is our official anniversary date. A year from now, we’ll look back and think about how I asked you to be my girlfriend under the rain.”

She rolls her eyes, smiling when he presses a kiss to her cheek. “You haven’t asked.”

His mouth sparces on top of the shell of her ear, whispering: “Will you be my girlfriend, gorgeous?”

Her brain has melted within her body just at the mere sound of those words, pulling away to look into his eyes before catching his cheeks in between her hands. She nods once, perhaps feeling a few tears gliding at the corners of her eyes that she blinks back so they don’t drop. “Of course. I’ll be your girlfriend.”

“Teacher Jeon is the most graceful person to ever land a foot on this earth. That’s it. If I’m not marrying him, I won’t marry ever.”

She can understand that freshmen are a little bit out there. In the past, or when she was a freshman in high school all those years ago, she was a little bit timid, if not overly quiet, embarking in books, fandoms and whatever it was that she fit into that time. Maybe, videogames, the slightest. However, as she has grown older, she’s surprised to be getting out of her office and into the parking lot to grab a folder that she had forgotten only to hear the new students talk about Wonwoo. Who had given them the best class of their lives, apparently, and only with his face alone.

She doesn’t know if she wants to laugh or frown. Showing affection or even talking as much as they do usually is something that they have forbidden each other to take place on when in school grounds. However, she does open her car and get her folder out, making extra notice of closing the door with a bang to see if students would stop objectifying their teachers after taking hours out of his days to prepare excellent classes. That happens to be to no avail, nonetheless.

Giving up, she goes past the group of students with a sigh. That’s the difficult part; knowing that Wonwoo is hers but she can’t even say the slightest thing so they would have, at least, a bit of shame about speaking of him so openly. The folder rests under her arm when she moves through the hallways, returning to where her office is, wishing to be locked up for the rest of the afternoon as she works on her paperwork.

When she opens the door, she’s surprised to hear it closing with a bang after her, an arm splaying on the wooden surface, the body of the culprit hovering over hers. She’s about to scream, but when her eyes trail upwards, she sees Wonwoo smiling down at her. Making quick work of locking the office, too.

“Wonwoo, what are you—?”

“It’s lunchtime and I just knew you’d stay back and try to do some more work, so…” He pulls away from her, sadly leaving her without a kiss before he moves over to the desk. He rests on the edge of her wooden desk, to which she’d press him into to kiss him to oblivion—and perhaps, more—if it wasn’t for the place they are in. His digits hold a bag that has plastic containers inside of it. “I was lazy and didn’t prepare something extraordinary, but sandwiches never killed anybody, have they?”

“You almost killed me.” She breathes out deeply, walking over to him with a smile on her face. “I just heard a group of students say they are going to marry you.”

Wonwoo quirks his eyebrows at that before shaking his head. “Oh God, no. Don’t even try to tell me about it. I want to concentrate on you for the half an hour we have to spend together.” Before she could take a seat on her chair, she feels him tugging at her forearm. “There are no cameras around, right?” His eyes trail towards the corners of the room before she chuckles.

“Not that I am aware of.”

“Oh well, worth the risk.” Wonwoo mumbles, pressing a chaste kiss to her mouth before pulling away. “So, tell me about your day. How did you sleep?”

This is not what she looked for, but precisely what she wanted. Maybe, the chemicals in her body only swirl and ignite in emotions that she can’t pinpoint when around him. Wonwoo is the kind of person she’s sure she won’t let go of any time soon. If she’s lucky, maybe never.

[erinawritesheadcanons2]

Heeey~ can I have a request of Homidicial Liu, Jeff The Killer, Jane the Killer and Clockwork with S/O who are Mysyerious? kind of like Raven from teen Titans. Thank you ❤️❤️❤️

HOMIDICIAL LIU, JEFF THE KILLER, JANE THE KILLER and CLOCKWORK with MYSTERIOUS S/O

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A/N: Hello there Anon!!!! I hope you like the final result of these character headcanons and I would like to apologize if there are any OOC Characters inside of this Headcannon. I am trying my best to put the Reader as the portrayal from Raven Teen Titans.

Warning: Cursing from Jane the Killer and Jeff the Killer

Gender: Neutral

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HOMIDICIAL LIU

Liu finds that you are a bit too cold and a bit distant because you don't like to interact with the other proxies. Instead, you often shut them off and distract yourself with other things.

But Sully finds you interesting, he also finds you to be not annoying. He doesn't really like loud people and push-over people as he finds that the two of you have a bit of similarity (You two prefer to be alone).

And as someone who is introverted and loves peace, it was no surprise you prefer Liu over Sully more. Sully can be really an asshole sometimes and when he screams, it is REALLY LOUD. Of course, Liu is going to apologize to you on Sully's behalf for pissing you off.

Liu would most likely leave you alone as he respects your personal space. However, it would be not the same case as Sully who would sometimes bother you just for shit and giggles.

I can see Liu as someone who enjoys music and reading books so he sometimes hangs out with you together in peace by reading and listening to music together.

But Sully finds your hobby of reading, listening to music, or other calming hobbies boring so he would just watch you from afar with a bored face and then decide if he should leave you alone or just throw the book or earphone away to distract you.

Actually, the two of them surprisingly prefer an introvert and calm S/O instead of an extrovert/overly friendly one. Sully finds them really annoying but Liu just prefers doing things together with you in the house instead of going out.

Liu is disappointed when you are sassy/snarky/sarcastic with other proxies and roasted the fuck out of them but Sully finds them to be hilarious and gives a score to all of your roasts from one (boring) to ten (Funny as fuck and very destructive).

Sully finds it adorable underneath that mean and cold facade, you're not as asshole as how people portray you to be. Sometimes even teasing you about how 'cute' you are.

Ⰶ║ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ║Ⰶ

As (Y/N) sat in the pleasant nook of the kitchen, stools standing behind the countertops, the world around them/her/his seemed to disappear into a peaceful haze. With each sip, the lovely scent of the tea swirled surrounding (Y/N), mixing with the subtle murmur of conversations and the soft hum of the espresso machine.

Suddenly, a loud splitting sound broke the silence, jolting you out of your peaceful tranquillity. Startled, (Y/N) gazed up, their/her/his eyes meeting Jeff the Killer's terrifying gaze, known for his demonic grin and creepy presence. His sneer twisted with excitement as he leaned in, his words piercing the air like a cold blade. "Hey nerd," he commented, his words tinged with mockery. "What book is that?" His presence cast a shadow over the peace you had been enjoying.

With a measured glance, (Y/N) broke the silence by saying, "It's a classic, but I doubt your brain could even understand what this is about." The words hung in the air, a challenge filled with intellect that sliced through the suffocating atmosphere. The unexpected answer caused a collective gasp and shush from the other proxies, and even Jeff's sneer faltered for a moment.

The room fell silent, the everyday noises of the kitchen and living room receding into the distance as all eyes focused on the unexpected debate. Even Jeff, known for his unsettling demeanour, looked surprised by the unexpected response. The air crackled with tension as the challenge hung between (Y/N) and Jeff the Killer, sending a wave through the previously quiet surroundings.

From a distance, a guy stood watching the drama develop, his piercing red eyes blazing with unamusement as his younger brother, Jeff, approached (Y/N) with his typical challenging attitude as he tried to scare his partner. However, when (Y/N) replied with unexpected wit, a grin pulled at Sully's lips, a subtle acknowledgement of respect for the unexpected change of events and (Y/N)'s retort. 

As Jeff's brother watched the conversation with satisfaction and glee, he let out a quiet guffaw causing an angry glare from Liu, who stood close. Despite Liu's disapproving expression, the alter ego couldn't help but find humour in the situation, his laughter bubbling just beyond the surface. He rolled his eyes and remained composed, hiding the delight with a more neutral face.

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JEFF THE KILLER

As someone who always goes out to kill people and hardly goes back. Jeff the killer and you could be a great match since you have the personality of water whereas he's like a fire.

He is secretly thankful but not admitting that he has a S/O who could stop him from doing reckless shits and stopping him from his own shenanigans so he would not get into deeper trouble since you have a cool head.

But also finds you a bit too stuck up since we are talking about you as "Mysterious". He wants to know about you more but he finds it frustrating that you don't let him find out about you (The hypocrisy amazes me).

Also, he could be as asshole as Sully. He finds it hilarious to annoy the fuck out of you when you want to be alone. So, there would be a time he would just be touchy when you don't want to.

Also finds your calming hobbies like reading books are boring so he would just grab it out of nowhere and throw it somewhere else when he wants your attention.

He finds it funny when you are being nonchalant and roasts the hell out of anyone who pisses you off in a calm manner. Especially if you did it to Jane or to Ben.

He doesn't like it though when you roast him and would throws a temper tantrum or gives you the silent treatment. He does not care even if he's in the wrong one. So, you have to be the emotionally mature one.

But there are also some times when he is not butt-hurt. He actually throws a playful banter with you as he tries to make you laugh. And when he sees you laugh, not only does he think your laughter is cute but he will fist-bump

As an introvert, he actually prefers to spend his time with you and if you are a serial killer. He does not want to be paired up with anyone except you since no one can control him.

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Today is Saturday, a day of quiet for all the proxies in the abandoned residence. Taking advantage of the tranquillity, (Y/N) chooses to remain in their chamber. They/she/he sits within the chalk-drawn pentagram, focusing on clearing their minds and relaxing. Yesterday had been very frantic since Slenderman had given multiple jobs. Today, however, gives an excellent chance for meditation.

A massive book sat open in front of (Y/N) as they/she/he began reciting ancient runic words, the meaning of which Slenderman alone knew. The air appeared to resonate with the weight of these mysterious incantations, giving the place an unearthly feel. With each statement, (Y/N) sensed a link to something beyond cognition, as if they were entering a realm beyond mortal comprehension.

As (Y/N) continued to meditate, a sense of calm flooded over her/him/them, illuminating their being with a peaceful glow. Their bodies began to glow softly in the darkness, throwing ghostly shadows on the walls. It was as if the very core of their existence was combining with the universe's cosmic forces, transcending worldly concerns and soaring to a state of complete peace. In the middle of this celestial embrace, (Y/N) felt weightless, as if hanging in a timeless abyss, surrounded by uncountable stars. As the door blasted open, (Y/N)'s idyllic meditation turned into chaos. Jeff the killer, her/his/their serial murderer boyfriend, stood at the doorway, putting the room with unpleasant energy as he yelled, "I'm back!" (Y/N)'s gaze hardened with rage as you stared at him, your peace broken by his unexpected presence.

The white hooded killer ignored your glare and proceeded to speak, his tone nonchalant despite the tension in the air. "(Y/N), come with me. I'm bored out of my mind, and I want you to go out with me," he said with a huff escape from his mouth. "No, I'm busy meditating and I need to focus. I want you to get out," The girl continued to glare at him. "But I dont's have anyone to killing spree with me and the only one who doesn't fuck up is only you," Jeff began to whine at you.

Fueled by anger and annoyance, (Y/N) determined to take action. She began chanting a strong spell, her words echoing with old magic. Jeff was pulled off the ground with a burst of energy, his objections drowned out by the spell's power. (Y/N) led him to the doorway, her eyes burning with resolve as she levitated him out of the room. Jeff's whining grew louder as he was propelled out, his voice echoing through the corridor. "Hey! Let me in! Why are you kicking me out?! I just want to hang out with you!" he cried, his words falling on deaf ears as (Y/N) remained steadfast in her decision.

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JANE THE KILLER

Jane is obviously less of an asshole than Jeff. She is much more understanding than you think. She doesn't tease you or think your hobby is boring.

Actually, she is more sweet than Jeff or Liu. She thinks your hobby of reading, writing, drawing, or other calming activities is fun, so she would sometimes join you.

Because she is also an introvert, just like you. She actually enjoys spending time with you when the two of you do these activities together and would rather anyone not bother you.

Also, enjoy it when you are being sarcastic with someone, especially Jeff. You don't hear her snickers of anything, but underneath her mask, she is grinning at your retort.

Since you are her soft spot, she does not mind you roasting her. She does enjoy a little banter with you, as she knows that you are just joking around. She understands that's just how you play around, despite seeming as if you are being rude.

Respect your space; she will leave you alone when you need to be alone or are in a bad mood. Secretly leaves sweets or tea to cool down your head when you are in a bad mood.

Although she finds it a bit difficult when she has to communicate with you because you are too close and you don't often open up about how you feel, she does find it a little bit annoying, but she is not going to force you to talk.

Sometimes this could lead you two into an argument or a fight, but unlike Jeff, She is not going to just throw a knife at you unless you go too far. It was mostly just an argument, and you two stayed out until the two of you cooled down.

Overall, she is just a sweetheart around you and more respectful than other proxies. But sometimes, getting into an argument with her is sucky because she could give you a silent treatment for an entire day, and you had to be the one who apologised.

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In the dimly lighted room, (Y/N) sat in the corner, perched on the bed, a book laid open in front of them. The sole light came from a lantern, which created faint shadows over the walls. Despite the lack of air conditioning, a cold persisted in the air, adding to the spooky atmosphere.

With a flick of their/her/his hand, (Y/N) flipped the page of the dark fantasy novel they were reading, the plot unfolding before their eyes. The story spoke of an evil dragon who chased humans behind the walls of a city consumed by terror and gloom. Each word seemed to pull them more into the story, bringing them vivid visions of hazardous encounters and epic fights between forces of light and shadow. Lost in the world of the book, (Y/N) sought peace in the frigid seclusion of the room, relying on the tale for escape.

As a faint tap echoed through the room, (Y/N) removed their gaze from the pages of their book and shouted out, "Come in," enabling whoever standing outside to enter. The door creaked open, showing Jane, (Y/N)'s girlfriend and the one person they/she/he had a soft place for. Jane's presence added warmth to the space, contrasting with its coldness. "Are you busy?" Jane asked her voice calm, as she moved farther into the room. "No, but I am reading a book right now. Would you want to read with me? (Y/N) replied with a tinge of happiness in your voice.

Jane nodded as she scanned the titles on (Y/N)'s bookcase, her eyes eventually settling on a book with a striking red cover. It was a novel about an evil hero and a kind villain, a story that intrigued her. Holding the book in her hands, she turned to (Y/N) and asked, "Can I read this book?" (Y/N) looked up from their own book and nodded with a smile. "Yeah, you can read Vicious. It's one of my favourite books," they said, their voice filled with warmth and fondness for the story.

As the girl nodded in agreement, a smile graced her lips. Remembering she had prepared some tea earlier, she spoke up, "Wait, I made tea for us. I hope you don't mind Earl Grey." With a gentle kiss on (Y/N)'s cheek, she then made her way to retrieve the tea kettle. (Y/N) couldn't help but smile at the gesture, feeling a slight blush creeping onto their cheeks from the sweet kiss. Setting aside their book, they eagerly anticipated sharing a quiet moment over tea with Jane, grateful for her thoughtful gesture and the warmth of her affection.

When Jane returned, the room was filled with the soothing scent of Earl Grey tea. She gently poured the hot liquid into two glasses, placing one in front of (Y/N) and took her seat next to them. As they sipped their tea, the warmth of the beverage matching the warmth of their bonding, they fell into a comfortable stillness.

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CLOCKWORK

She is in between understanding but also as a menace as Jeff the Killer. As an extrovert, she sometimes would not leave you alone when she is bored and doesn't have anything to do that day.

Well at least she will not be throwing your books away when you are busy or repeatedly calling your names when you are meditating but she definitely going to stare at you all day which can be bothering you sometimes.

Despite not being noisy, the sound of the ticking clock in her eyes can be a little bit loud. She would also sometimes go around your room and just skim a few books and if there were no pictures, she's just gonna put it away instead of putting it back which is why this can be annoying.

To be honest, she finds your hobbies to be boring and she really just wants to drag you out so the two of you could go on a killing spree together or just hang around the forest. But she doesn't want to bother you so she just waits for you to be done.

The reason she can be understanding is because she would also give you some space if you need to be alone. She understands that you hate getting distracted or bothered, especially when you are in a bad mood.

As a result, she would also probably not let any proxies interact with you and ask you if you are fine. Just like Jane, she can be protective so she won't let anyone bother you at all and she will scare anyone who tries to mess with you.

Also a bit annoyed that sometimes you shun yourself and you are too close to yourself and not interacting with her at all even though the two of you are dating. She wants to communicate with you, ya know?

Enjoys bantering with you and has a tough shell so you can roast her and she will not be easily offended by your roast. Instead, she just will sass you back and snickers, and would be laughing if you cannot retort back.

Also would enjoy seeing you roast someone else, calling out other killers or people's stupidity. To the point, she will clutch her stomach and she is crouching down while letting out a tea kettle-like laughter.

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As (Y/N) climbed the stairs to prepare her breakfast, she noticed an interesting sight. Nurse Ann and Clockwork stood facing one other, arms crossed in a protective position and staring furiously. The tension in the air was apparent, and (Y/N) felt a sense of unease. Clockwork, your girlfriend, was not known for getting into fights with others.

(Y/N) listened intently as Nurse Ann and Clockwork's argument escalated, each accusation escalating the tension in the room. "Because of your dumbass ticks, the victim escaped and probably going to tell the police," Nurse Ann accused, jabbing her finger in Clockwork's direction. "Me!? You're the literally slow one! I told you to bring something smaller but no! You bring your chainsaw! You know those are heavy!" Clockwork retorted, her voice tinged with frustration. "But they are portable! Besides, you have an axe and those are heavy!" Nurse Ann countered, her tone defensive. "These are machetes!" Clockwork defended herself, her words dripping with exasperation.

Now, you are not the type to start an argument but this Clockwork is your girlfriend and no one can harass her. Deciding to step up, you came from the shadow and stood in front of clockwork while facing the red-headed nurse. "(Y/N)? What are you doing? You don't need to do this" Clockwork said.

The nurse wasn't even fazed that you were there. Instead, the nurses think it's ridiculous that you are trying to intervene between the two of them. "Aww, is someone who cannot protect herself and needs their baby? Fucking grow up, Clockie," Nurse Ann rolls her red eyes at the two of you. "So what, at least she is not miserable. No one even wanted to kiss you, heck. Even take doesn't want you to be his," (Y/N) leaned to the counter. "W-what?" The nurse's eyes widened in surprise.

Clockwork who heard that immediately tried not to laugh but failed, even you could hear her snickering in the background. Those words escape like a river, you do not even control them, they just flow out. "Just try to ask other proxies if they want to date you. They probably going to say no to your face. Do I have to say more?" (Y/N) continued to roast the hell out of Nurse Ann.

The nurse could not help but bite her own lips, her eyes glaring into your eyes that were staring at her with boredom. She pointed her finger at you but no words coming out from her lips and she glared at your girlfriend since she was speechless. "You two will regret it, both of you. I promise that" she storms off, knowing she could not even give any comeback to you.

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[sweatervest-obsessed]

Heyyyy!!!! I read that you were taking requests so I was wondering if you could write something for non BAU nerd reader and Spencer. Something sweet and comforting with a reader that’s a nerd but more on the language and literature side.

Thank you so much and do it however you’d like. Have a great day 💕

(Would mind answering even if you decide not to write it? I think my asks aren’t getting through lately)

I love love love love this idea so so so so much.

I hope you enjoy this! As a huge literature nerd, who wants to be a language nerd, I feel like this all the time. Thank you so so so so much for this ask!!

WC: 764

TW: mentions of blood, completely blindsided by excitement, accident prone girliepop energy, complete and utter fluff

"Spencer, seriously....this is...this is too much."

Spencer looked down at his hands, a slightly blush tinging his cheeks. It was your one year anniversary. A whole year of being married to your best friend. And Spencer had gone all out with his gift.

"How the hell did you get this Spence?"

"I uh, well. It took a little bit of time but..."

"Actually." You cut him off and placed the book down on the table. "I don't want to know. Don't tell me. I fear I'll kill you if I find out the truth Spencer."

You launched yourself across the couch and wrapped your arms tightly around him. It was the most perfect gift on the planet.

"Actually." He whispered in your ear. "If you look over at the book case, I managed to get the whole set. All six of them."

Spencer didn't even feel you leave his arms as you left off the couch and rammed your shin right into the coffee table.

"Shit. Shit. I'm fine. It's fine."

Nothing could stop you. You kept moving, ignoring the pain on your shin as you stopped in front of the book case he was referring to.

When you and Spencer had bought a house six months ago, you both realized that one of the rooms would have to become a library so that you both would be able to store the sheer amount of books you had. It was completely unsurprising when you both realized that you had too many books for just one room, so the library quickly became a place for all of your favorite books, novels, collections; while the other bookcases around the house were filled with assorted titles.

What Spencer was referring to was the bookcase next to the fire place. It's where you had kept all of your multiple first editions. Both you and Spencer were doctors, it was how you had met in the first place. You were attending Harvard, obtaining your Ph.D in Literature with a focus in Renaissance and Early Modern Literature. Spencer was at MIT, four minutes down the road, obtaining his Ph.D in Engineering.

The both of you had come to a consensus to not buy one another books, unless it was a special occasion. Part of this was because of the fact that you were starting to run out of room. The other part was because you were starting to run out of specific books you wanted. The ones you had started truly collecting were first, or second, editions of novels where things would start costing thousands of dollars.

Which is why you completely ignored the blood slowly trickling down your leg, and stared in complete shock at the new edition to your ever growing Shakespeare collection.

"Spencer. You found a full set of Shakespeare's work with Pope's introduction, noted, and critiques. I have been saving up for these for years...please tell me you didn't spend this much money on me Spencer this is..."

Spencer walked back into the library with the first aid kit you both kept under the sink in the bathroom. He watched you completely ignore the injury on your leg, just so you could go and see what he had gotten you.

"They're in such good condition too." You reached out and pulled one of them off the shelf, feeling the leather beneath your fingers. "Spence--oh!"

You had turned around and almost walked him in the head with the book. He had kneeled down and started to wipe of the blood that was trailing down your shin.

"Shit Spence, are you okay?" You placed a hand on his head while he placed a band aid on the cut.

"I'm fine honey. Are you okay?"

"I am more than okay." You started to bounce on the balls of your feet as you remembered the fact that Spencer had just bought one of your dream collector's items.

He stood up and kissed you on the head.

"Spencer you don't understand. This is fucking incredible. I mean--"

You continued to ramble, not really paying any mind to Spencer as he sat down on the chair across from where you were. His eyes were filled with light as you flitted through pages, searching for quotes to tell him about, or sharing your opinions on Pope's opinions, or on Pope's Essay on Criticism, and how he almost completely contradicts himself with his comments on Shakespeare and his plays.

He could sit and listen to you talk for hour and hours. And he gladly was about to do so.

[enhaheeseung]

Study - l. Heeseung

Warnings: smut, cursing, oral male receiving, hand job, cum eating, tiny bit of angst, all of this takes place in a library💀

Pt.1 continuation of “all dressed up.” I strongly suggest reading pt.1 but it’s not necessary

Masterlist

Word count 3,1k I think 💭 ❔

Note: Tumblr is still acting up on me, but I wanted to get this out sooner than later probably going to have to move to a new blog soon cause nothing I do is working :/ And the spacing is a bit weird, 75% unedited, so forgive me if it’s bad :( also not sure when I’ll be active again so… yeah, anyways I hope you all enjoy it and sorry for the delay.

You had just gotten out of school, and on your way home, you decided to stop at the library to study cause you didn’t want to be cooped up at home and hunched over your very poorly set up study desk in your room.

As you open the doors to your local library, the librarian greets you with a smile which you automatically return and begin to walk down the long aisles of bookshelves with several books resting on them.

You drag your finger along every one, counting to ten and then stopping when your finger lands on a hardcover. It was some random series you’d never heard of before, but the cover looked enticing, so you grabbed it from the shelf and made your way to the back corner of the library, hoping your favorite seat would be unoccupied.

You had planned to do some light reading before studying, and you couldn’t wait to sit down and cozy up on the soft seat near the window.

As soon as you turn the corner, your shoulders slump in dismay cause your very favorite seat was, in fact, taken.

You trudged to the table next to it, opting for the next best option. You sighed heavily and placed your backpack on the table in front of you, pulling out your materials.

You sigh loudly and sit down on the wooden chair.

Maybe you were overreacting, but you were really annoyed that your seat was taken. It had the best view of the outside and the best light for reading.

You huff out another sigh and look up from your book, taking a glance at the person who stole your precious seat.

It didn’t surprise you when you saw who sat in it. He wore big round framed glasses. His shirt was neat and perfectly tucked into the waistband of his grey slacks. He tapped his leg rather annoyingly while taking notes from the mound of books that sat atop his table.

And to set it all off, he kept pushing up the bridge of his glasses ever so often. You wonder how he managed to perfect the nerd image so well you had no idea people like that even existed until you laid eyes on him.

Of course, someone like him would hide out in the back of the library. Then again, if you had that hideous fashion sense, you really wouldn’t want to be seen either.

At least he’s self aware.

But that still didn’t make you any less agitated that he was in your spot.

He never once looked up from his book, only occasionally brushing his bangs away from his face so he could see properly. You could only see his lips pouted in concentration as his pencil jotted down more notes.

You hadn’t realized that you had been staring for quite a few minutes, judging his appearance and secretly cussing him out in your head cause he had taken your beloved window seat.

Heeseung was working hard for his upcoming exam.

He had just gotten out of school and came straight to the library to focus on his studies.

Usually, he sat near the front to study, but today specifically, he went towards the back so he could work in peace, knowing no one would distract him.

Until he noticed someone approaching in his peripheral, he felt a tinge of annoyance when said person sat down, and he couldn’t believe today, out of all days, someone just had to sit next to him.

He wasn’t used to it. It’s not that he hated the idea of sitting next to someone, but he just got used to being alone. Since he started going to school, he never had a seatmate. He figured it was because no one wanted to be around the “nerd” or “dork” At first, it was bothersome, but he quickly grew accustomed to it, but now that someone was finally sitting next to him, he couldn’t help but feel a bit uncomfortable as he shifted in his seat.

But as long as whoever was sitting next to him didn’t make loud noises or disturb his peace, then he was okay with it.

Unfortunately for him, that wasn’t the case.

He heard multiple loud huffs and deep sighs, causing him to lose focus. He tapped a rhythm with his foot out of habit somehow that always helped to regain his focus again.

Apparently not today, though, because after the sighs got lost in the chilly air of the library, he got this uncomfortable feeling that he was now being watched like in the corner of his eye, he could see someone looking at No, staring at him.

He again shifted uncomfortably and looked up to see who this weirdo was that couldn’t keep their eyes to themselves.

The instant he looked up, the air got knocked straight from his lungs, and all of a sudden, the last thing he was worried about was your loud sigh and longing stare.

At first, he thought his eyes were deceiving him, but there was no way he could mistake you for anybody else, and he couldn’t help but feel a little giddy.

It was you, the girl from the Halloween party, the girl that gave him the best orgasm he’s ever had, the girl he couldn’t stop thinking of ever since the night he met you.

He could only thank the higher being out there that allowed you two to meet again.

You jumped slightly when the guy who had sat near the window made eye contact with you.

You cleared your throat and quickly looked away. You felt embarrassed that he caught you staring, that’s what you get for cursing him out in your head for the last five minutes.

He did nothing to deserve all the foul insults that you conjured up about him in your head. All he did was sit down in a public library where anyone could sit freely. It’s not like that seat was reserved for you, yet you acted like it was.

You looked down at the book you had picked up earlier, deciding to actually read instead of judging a random stranger for no reason.

It was titled popcorn.

Funny title for a book, you thought.

It’s a true story. Apparently, it’s about two strangers that met at a movie theater and ended up getting married after they accidentally conceived a child. It talked about the hardships of being young parents and working through differences ultimately for the betterment of their child, which led them to fall in love along the way.

You couldn’t even flip through the first page cause you felt a piercing gaze burning into the side of your skull. You glanced up occasionally, and he was still just literally staring at you.

It felt uncomfortable, and maybe this is what you deserve for staring at him first, perhaps this is gods way of telling you to mind your own business, and maybe it’s because when you looked up and met the stranger’s eyes for the second time, you realized that it was the guy from the Halloween party.

How could you not recognize him?

Well, stupid question, he looked so much different outside of his costume, almost unrecognizable, but you couldn’t forget those huge dark orbs that looked oh so precious when he begged for you to touch him.

It’d be a lie if you said you didn’t think once or twice about him after that night.

Which was surprising given the fact you never once thought about any of your past hookups after they left your bed.

But how could you not when he literally wore a maid costume and had the audacity to wear nothing underneath?

You think back to that night, remembering how his huge cock felt in your hands, how it twitched when you degraded him and how it throbbed when he released his warm milky cum down your thro-

With a tiny shake of your head, you turned away and focused back on your book.

But he couldn’t focus on anything anymore. You’d successfully ruined his study session within just a few seconds.

When you looked back down and practically ignored his existence, he couldn’t help the hurt he felt in his heart, but before he exaggerated too much. Maybe you just didn’t recognize him. Maybe now it was you that thought he was a weirdo for staring.

He kept blowing his bangs out of his face so you could make out his features better, trying to replicate how he looked that night. After all, he did wear his hair slicked back at the party.

The loud tapping of his pencil was a useless attempt to get you to look up from your book. He kept clearing his throat quietly and readjusting in his seat so you would notice him.

He even took his glasses off, trying to mirror his appearance that night.

It was only when he whined, more like moaned out of frustration, that you looked up at him and saw the pouty look on his face.

He bit his lip nervously, just like the night at the party when you pushed him back on the mattress before you gave him the hand job of his life.

That look alone was enough for you to close the book and stop everything that you were doing so you could focus on nothing but him.

“Hey, pretty boy.”

You chuckled when he looked to his left and right, searching to see if you were talking to someone else, and his eyes grew wide once he realized he was the only person around.

It felt like deja vu.

He sat up straight in his chair and cleared his throat for the fifteenth time. Yes, he was counting. “H-hi,” he muttered, pushing his bangs away from his face one last time.

“What a coincidence” you got up from your chair and moved it right next to his getting as close to him as possible, and he visibly gulped at the proximity.

“Y-yeah,” he sat there stiff as a board, looking straight ahead.

“What brings you here?” You say, and it really did feel like the night at the party all over again.

“S-study” again with the stutter…

Gosh, he’s so adorable.

As elated as he was that you were finally paying attention to him, he might have gotten just a little bit too excited.

He reached over to the table not so discreetly and picked up his notepad to cover his quickly growing erection.

“Isn’t that a bit tiring?” You ask, moving the notepad back to the table and running your hand up the length of his thigh.

“Y-yes” he squeezed his eyes shut and balled his fists at his sides.

“Want to take a break?” You couldn’t help but bite your lip at the sight of his bulge straining against his pants.

“Uhh y-yeah, I mean yes.” He whispered without hesitation closing his eyes once more and releasing a deep sigh.

“You’re so cute when you stutter,” you lean in and whisper in his ear, nibbling gently on his pierced lobe.

He really did everything in his power not to moan, but when your hand traced the outline of his hard-on poking through his slacks, he couldn’t help it.

As soon as it slipped out, he felt embarrassment rush throughout his entire body. He felt so pathetic for being that turned on just from you calling him cute.

But in his defense, no one had ever called him that before.

“Even cuter when you moan” you took one look around, making sure the coast was clear before you started to unfasten the buckle on his belt.

“N-not here” His breath hitched as he weakly grabbed your wrist, almost pleading with you to stop.

“Why’s that cutie?” You asked, halting your movements on his belt.

He gulped. “Cause there’s p-people around” he looked at you with blown pupils and a hint of worry in them.

But you didn’t miss the desperation all over his features.

The deep breaths, the subtle lip bite, and the quiet whimpers that he let out let you know he wanted this right here, right now, just as bad as you did.

“Then what do you suggest? cause, judging by the looks of it” you looked down at his cock that twitched under the confines of his pants. “This can’t wait” you ran your hand over his tent.

You could visibly see the moment he let go of all his inhibitions. You couldn’t help but smirk at the effect you had on him.

You were right.

He couldn’t wait and he knew it. he needed this. He needed it so bad that when he took one look around and saw that no one was in the vicinity of you two, he nodded his head, giving you the green light to continue, just praying that he wouldn’t regret this decision later on.

And god, did he hate himself for being so easily persuaded by you. Just like that, you were once again making him throw all his morals straight out the window, but the worst part was that he didn’t even care, and he blamed his stupid virgin dick for that.

“Just be a good boy and keep quiet for me yeah?” You undid the button on his slacks, and he couldn’t help but get excited at the sound of you pulling down his zip.

With a final nod of his head, You didn’t waste any more time and began palming him over his Calvin Klein boxers.

As soon as you touched him, he let out a shaky breath, and you could have sworn you saw his whole body shiver.

You turned to the side placing kisses on his neck, licking and sucking wherever you could reach.

He brought a hand up to loosen his tie, and you’re not sure if he did it cause it was getting too tight or if he did it to give you more access to kiss him either way, you took that as an invitation to leave dark marks on his newly exposed flesh.

“Y-you never told me your n-name,” he said breathlessly. Even with as out of it as he already was, he couldn’t miss yet another opportunity to learn more about you.

When you removed your hand from inside his pants, he panicked, thinking he had said something wrong, but he was in no way ready for what you were about to do next. “S-sorry, I-I didn’t mean to offen-” you cut him off as you grabbed his cheeks in both your palms so you could bring him in for a kiss.

When you pulled away, his eyes were blown wide open, and you had to wonder if he could be any cuter.

“I’m y/n.”

You answered your own question just moments later.

Yes, he could be cuter, way cuter, in fact, as he did his best to kiss you while you worked your hand up and down his length.

Although, in reality, he just had his mouth open while you did the rest, but how could you complain when it allowed you to swallow every one of his pretty little moans and whimpers?

“Y/n,” he whined into the kiss when you squeezed his base, his brain had become too foggy to even comprehend anything but your name and the way your hand felt stroking his dick.

His head fell limply on your shoulder as he struggled to watch you jerk him off under the confines of his boxers.

He felt just as good as you remembered, thick, long, and hot to the touch.

“Spit,” you instructed while slowing down the pace of your hand.

“Okay,” he whined and obediently lifted his head from your shoulder, gathering a glob of saliva in his mouth and spitting it onto his tip.

“Good boy” he looked up slowly and met your eyes with his hooded ones moaning at the praise that rolled off your tongue.

“Hmmm,” he nodded his head in agreement, eyebrows furrowing when you spread the mixture of his precum and saliva on his shaft. “So good” he sighed in pleasure.

Any second, he was going to cum. The quiet sticky sound that came from you rubbing him up and down made heat rise to his cheeks and he couldn’t stop his slit from producing drops precum, not when your fingers massaged his tip so good.

He kept moaning your name in your ear over and over, clutching onto your thigh for support as he felt his thighs tensing and that familiar feeling he felt on the first night you two met. “What is it, pretty boy?” You hummed at the sight of his precum staining his lower abdomen, some of it even spilling into his belly button.

He just moaned in response, squeezing his legs together tightly from embarrassment.

“You gonna cum, pretty boy, is that it?” He nodded against your shoulder and moved his head to your neck, nudging softly as he thrusts his hips up to match the movement of your hand.

“Gonna cum” he breathed into your ear, and you swore it was the hottest thing you’d ever hear.

The sight in front of you had you dripping. His boxers were stained in precum shirt slightly lifted up, giving you the perfect view of his abdomen covered in his slick.

His hot, heavy breath fanning against your neck and the desperation of his hips bucking into your hand was the most beautiful sight ever. He was a complete fucked out mess.

You’ve never been with someone that was so easily worked up, and the fact that he was like this all because of you had you equally worked up, so worked up that you pulled your hand out of his boxers, drawing a whiny gasp from him as you spoiled yet another one of his orgasm.

His discontent didn’t last for more than a second as you got down on your knees under the table. He hastily looked around to ensure no one was watching and quickly pulled his pants down below his kneecaps, giving you access to his hard-on that rested on his lower tummy.

Yeah, his morals were definitely out the window.

You took him in your mouth without warning causing him to jump in his seat slightly when he felt the warmth of your mouth enveloping his rock-hard cock. “Fuck” he hissed as his eyes rolled back in his head while more barely coherent curses fell past his dry lips.

He looked under the table, watching you as you bobbed your head up and down on his cock. You sucked all the way from his tip and stopped at his base, practically swallowing him whole. “Oh fuck” he grabbed the sides of his chair, trying to ground himself.

He couldn’t seem to peel his eyes away from your lips wrapped around his shaft. He was mesmerized watching the way his cock disappeared into your mouth.

Your saliva dribbled down his shaft, creating the most obscene sounds he’s ever heard as you sucked him off.

It didn’t take long for him to get addicted to the feeling of your mouth on his dick, and no sessions with his right hand could ever compare to the pleasure you were giving him right now.

When you pulled back to take a breath, his dick was wet and glossy from your saliva. The sight made him twitch, and he got so red when you giggled at his involuntary reaction.

You placed your hands on his thighs to support yourself. You stuck out your tongue, using the tip of the wet muscle to trace the veins on his length. “Y/n, i-” he covered his face with his hands, trying so hard to hold out, but it was useless when you teasingly ran your tongue along the underside of his cock and sucked him back in. “I’m cumming” he announced with a shaky breath and let his hands fall down to his sides once more as he watched himself emptying his balls down your throat.

The way his cock felt throbbing inside your mouth brought you just a little too much satisfaction, even more satisfaction than having an orgasm of your own.

You hummed around his shaft, gagging when his cum squirted in your mouth and hit the back of your throat. “Shit!” He moaned loudly when your throat tightened on his pulsating cock, pleasuring him even more.

You made eye contact while sucking him through his orgasm he panted uncontrollably, face scrunching in overstimulation. As you felt him going limp in your mouth, you pulled off his cock and licked the corner of your lips, kissing and licking every inch of his dick, making sure not a single drop of his release was wasted. “Taste so sweet,” you hummed at his taste that lingered on your tongue.

He very timidly tucked your hair behind your ear, and the gesture alone came off as being way softer than he intended. You looked up through your fluttering lashes, and he only smiled while biting his lip before shyly looking away.

You felt a strange feeling in your stomach, but you quickly brushed it off.

He winced slightly when you pulled his boxers up and tucked him away. The dampness in his underwear felt uncomfortable and even more uncomfortable when he wore his pants and tucked his shirt back into its original state.

Without a word, you got up from your position on the floor and straightened out your clothes.

A deep sigh escaped him as he was finally coming back to reality after that mind-blowing orgasm, and unfortunately but yet so fitting for him, his throat dried up, and he couldn’t even form a proper sentence all the questions that were left lingering in his mind ever since the party were stuck on his tongue.

And just like on Halloween night, you were disappearing from his sight once more.

But at least he got your name this time, maybe if he’s lucky enough, you’ll be coming back to this same library maybe sooner than later, and maybe he’d wait every day just in case you did show up.

That’s a lot of maybe’s, but that’s all he had as he looked at the disheveled notes that were now long forgotten about cause he was too busy thinking about you.

Taglist: @cha0thicpisces @07jkez

Permanent taglist:®• @hello-stranger24 @ashxsmoon @lhsggg @scarlet127 @bunhoons @axartia @kpopscruggles @badidealy @heeseungleeworld @jayroseyy @bangchanhasbigfeet @duolingofanaccount @oceanyocean @woonie-muffin @hee-in @heesgirl @bambisgirl @heeaddict @heartandfangs @nyxtwixx

Thank you so much for reading. Likes and reblogs are always appreciated. I hope you all enjoy. Sorry for any typos/errors, and as always, enjoy your day/night.🖤🤍

[thereceptioniststyles]

Stolen Glances

Harry.

His name echoed in my mind, a constant presence that refused to let me sleep. I was consumed by an insatiable curiosity about him. When would our paths cross? What did he really look like? Did he possess the necessary skills to excel as a receptionist? These questions may have seemed trivial, but little did I know that Harry would become the catalyst for the destruction of my entire existence.

The days crawled by, each one dripping with mounting anticipation. I found it nearly impossible to concentrate, the mere thought of his imminent arrival sending shivers down my spine. And yet, fate had a cruel twist in store for me. Our meeting would not unfold as I had envisioned. No, it would be the other way around.

I parked my car on the desolate street, my hands trembling as I rummaged through my purse in search of my employee badge. The frigid air bit at my fingers, numbing them to the bone, making it a challenge to locate the badge amidst the chaos within my bag. After what felt like an eternity, I finally grasped it, only to have my nerves intensify as I hastened my pace down the pavement. The weight of the unknown bearing down on me.

I arrived at the entrance of the imposing building, the echo of my footsteps drowned out by the sound of my racing heart. With a trembling hand, I swiped my ID card, granting myself access to the enigmatic realm that awaited me. As I stepped inside, my eyes were immediately drawn to the reception desk where two girls engaged in animated conversation, their attention seemingly fixated on a phone call, undoubtedly scheduling an appointment. And then, it happened. Our gazes collided. Him.

Harry was nothing like the image I had constructed in my mind. In my fantasies, he was a polished intellectual, a charming nerd of sorts. But reality shattered my illusions. I stood there, rooted to the spot, utterly stupefied. Callie had not been exaggerating when she spoke of his attractiveness.

He was breathtaking. His dark hair cascaded in gentle waves, as though meticulously crafted to caress his forehead with effortless grace. His eyes, oh those piercing green eyes, possessed an intensity that could penetrate the very walls of my soul. His skin, concealed beneath a rolled-up button-down shirt, hinted at a fair complexion tinged with a subtle tan. And there, just beneath the cuff, tantalizing glimpses of inked artistry teased my hungry eyes.

My heart threatened to burst through my ribcage, its erratic beats echoing in my ears like a war drum. I prayed fervently that he hadn't caught me in the act of staring, my gaze fixated on him like a moth drawn to a flame. With trembling hands, I gathered my belongings, desperate to appear composed as I scurried towards my desk. I cast my eyes downward, then upward, anywhere but in his direction. I struggled to regain my focus, but it was an uphill battle. The world around me seemed to freeze, time grinding to a halt while my palms grew clammy with nervous perspiration.

As clients checked out and appointments were booked, I threw myself into the tasks at hand, a whirlwind of activity to distract myself from the magnetic pull of Harry's presence. I rushed to answer the phone, offering assistance to the person on the other end of the line. I did everything in my power to keep my hands and mind occupied, until I reached a point where distraction was futile.

One girl was engrossed in a phone call, another on her lunch break, and suddenly it was just Harry and me. I stole glances in his direction, catching glimpses of him, absorbed in learning the intricacies of the computer system. I could feel his eyes on me too, a magnetic connection that sent shivers down my spine. I silently thanked myself for taking the extra time to primp and preen, unwilling to appear anything less than presentable in his presence. After all, a guy like him, he was practically divine.

Suddenly, a voice shattered the cacophony of conflicting thoughts that had been swirling in my mind. The sound of his chair wheels sliding across the floor reverberated through the air, drawing my attention towards him.

"Hi," Harry's voice was a soft whisper, sending an electric current coursing through my veins. "I'm Harry."

In those few words, I felt a primal surge of wildness coursing through my being. It was as if my very essence had been awakened, ready to unleash an untamed, feral side of myself that I never knew existed.

The desire coursing through my veins was insatiable, an all-consuming fire that threatened to consume me whole. I longed to tear through any obstacle that stood between us, to claw my way to him and feel the strength of his arms, hidden beneath those rolled-up sleeves. My heart yearned to devote itself entirely to him, to become a willing sacrifice at the altar of his presence. In that moment, he was a god, and I was but a mere mortal, ready to surrender myself to his whims.

I nodded, my head barely moving, as if I were in a trance. I paused, gathering my thoughts for a fleeting moment, before slowly lifting my gaze to meet his. His emerald eyes bore into the depths of my soul, capturing my very essence in their hypnotic gaze.

"I'm Ayla," I whispered, my voice barely audible. I kept my introduction brief, fully aware of the potential to make a complete fool of myself. I had to tread carefully, to consider my every word and action in his presence.

A smile played at the corners of his lips, a mischievous glint in his eyes, as he extended his hand towards me, an invitation for a handshake. My hand trembled as it found its place within his, our palms meeting in a delicate clasp. A surge of electricity surged through me, setting my entire body ablaze.

"So, do you enjoy this job?" Harry inquired, his voice laced with genuine curiosity and a thick British accent. I nodded, a silent affirmation of my satisfaction.

"Yeah, it's fun. It has its ups and downs, but then again, what job doesn't?" I replied, attempting to maintain composure despite the whirlwind of emotions swirling within me.

Our eyes remained locked, an unspoken connection forming between us, until our manager emerged from her office, interrupting the charged atmosphere. She was a stern, no-nonsense woman who commanded respect with every stride. Her presence was a stark contrast to the intoxicating aura that surrounded Harry.

"Ah, Harry," our manager's voice cut through the air, her tone businesslike yet friendly. "I see you've met Ayla, one of our valued team members."

Harry released my hand, reluctantly breaking our connection, and turned towards our manager. "Yes, we just had a very brief introduction," he replied, his voice betraying a hint of warmth.

"Well, Ayla," our manager addressed me, her gaze piercing. "I trust you'll show Harry the ropes and ensure he settles in smoothly."

I nodded, my heart pounding in my chest as I absorbed the weight of her words. Showing Harry the ropes meant spending more time with him, delving deeper into the enchanting allure he exuded. It was an opportunity I simultaneously craved and feared.

"Of course," I managed to say, my voice steady despite the torrent of emotions threatening to overwhelm me.

"Ayla," she declared with a commanding tone, her voice cutting through the air like a sharp blade. "Step into my office. I have a question."

I rose swiftly from my desk, relief washing over me like a cool, soothing wave. She had come to my rescue, sparing me from the torment of prolonging the conversation with him. It wasn't right for me to entertain such thoughts, especially when I had a devoted boyfriend. Though our demanding schedules kept us apart, Beck and I had been together for nearly two years, and the last thing I needed was to be consumed by thoughts of another man who seemed out of my league.

I obediently followed Callie into her office, the heavy door clicking shut behind us. She pivoted to face me, her eyes piercing into mine, as she settled into the chair across from me.

"So," she began, her voice dripping with caution and concern, "Harry is undeniably attractive, and it's no secret that everyone finds him so. But you and Harry? That's a dangerous path, Ayla. I know you have a boyfriend, but life has a way of throwing unexpected curveballs, doesn't it? Focus on your work, stay grounded, and you'll be just fine. Besides, Harry, well, he's considerably older than you, isn't he?"

I nodded, though deep inside, I was engulfed in a sea of uncertainty. How could she draw such conclusions from a mere introduction and a brief handshake? It was unprofessional of her to pry into my personal affairs, but there was a grain of truth in her words. I had Beck, my pillar of support, the one who stood by my side.

All Parts

[wrencatte]

mini-fic 3! Cere POV. linguist!Cal, Mantis Crew as Family, Merrin & Cal bonding 1.2k words

“This one?”

Cal squints at it for half a second, says “yes,” then looks back down.

“What about this one?”

“Yes.”

“You didn’t even look!”

“Greez, that’s the third time you’ve shown me that one.”

“No, it – oh, wait, haha, yeah it is. Okay. Let me see….”

Cere watches in fond amusement as Greez goes back to the shelves. Merrin comes over with a tome from deeper within the city library and angles it in a way Cal can look at it without straining his neck. His expression brightens and he takes it, running his fingers over the edges and corners.

There’s a slight twist in the Force that Cere’s beginning to learn means he found an echo. She has to focus pretty hard to feel it so she only pays it enough attention to be sure Cal’s not about to fall into anything nasty – not that she can do anything about it if he does, but she likes to be prepared – and tunes back into the softly murmured conversation between Merrin and Cal.

The Nightsister looks absolutely delighted at having found something in a language Cal doesn’t recognize, all quiet pride and subtle preening. Cere hides a smile behind her hand. Adorable. Cal flips the tome open and the two of them duck heads, Cal underlining a few words with his finger and saying something that Merrin repeats. He shakes his head and says it again. Her face twists in thought as she sounds it out before giving it voice and he nods rapidly, grinning. She smiles back, one of those small soft ones that pops up whenever it’s just her and Cal.

Cere is just about to go back to her own readings when Greez arrives, BD-1 whirling on his shoulder, a book held over his head in triumph.

“Ha! Try this on for size!”

Cal takes the book carefully. “I know this one,” he tells Greez, who groans in disappointment. “But, oh wow.” He flips through a few pages, lips moving as he reads the text silently to himself. “I can’t believe they have a book written in pre-Reformation Gwyrdd’tafodi. Do you know how rare that is? When they switched over, they deliberately destroyed all they could! An archivist hid this away for a hundred years in order to get it safely off the planet. It kept getting passed down the family line until one of them got passage on a ship.”

Greez crosses one set of arms, his free hands on his hips. He watches Cal fondly as the young Jedi’s excitement grows with every page flip. “You know, I would’ve never pegged you as such a gigantic nerd.”

“Jedi were scholars and peacekeepers before they were soldiers,” Cere says quietly. A hush falls on the group. Cal ducks down, shoulders hunching, eyes kept resolutely on the page though it’s obvious he’s not reading a single word. She smiles and adds lightly, “We’re all nerds.”

Cal laughs first, tinged with grief and legitimate delight. He tucks the book Greez brought under the one Merrin showed him, which makes Merrin throw Greez a smirk and for the latero to throw his crossed arms up in the air in a huff. Cere rolls her eyes fondly and catches Cal’s gaze. He grins, unrepentant, enjoying whatever contest is going on between their friends. It gets Cal more books without him getting up, so he’s not going to stop them.

Greez’s frustration is amusing to watch, especially when he snatches BD from scanning the book Cal has open so he can co-opt the droid’s database to help find a language Cal doesn’t know. It’s not helping. BD-1’s database might be filled with years and years of history and culture but knowing the intimate details of a language instead of just a simple dictionary is completely different.

Merrin listens to Cal read out loud for a few minutes, humming at all the right moments, but obviously thinking hard about something. Cere gives up on reading her book and focuses on the two of them, curious as to what’s going to happen next.

“How many languages do you know?”

Cal’s teeth click he stops talking so fast. “I don’t know,” he admits with a shrug. “Sometimes I don’t even realize I know a language until I see or hear it again. Sometimes not even then! It doesn’t always register it as a different language. It’s just…words I understand.”

She tilts her head, expression intense. “Could you learn Dathomiri?”

He grins and quips something in the smokey, gritty sounding language of Dathomir. Merrin’s eyes widen, and then, suddenly, they glimmer with a wetness both Cere and Cal pretend they don’t see.

Knuckles pressed to her lips, she breathes a very quiet, “oh,” before clearing her throat and adding roughly, “Your accent is terrible.”

“Is it though?” Cal asks smugly.

Merrin scowls. “I will teach you more…if you want to learn.”

Cal’s expression softens. “I would love to. Thank you for sharing it with me.” He adds something in Dathomiri at the end that has Merrin abruptly turning back to their shared book, expression pained and grieving.

Cere nudges the Nightsister with a tendril of the Force and gets a small smile in response. They don’t share the same bond as Jedi do, but theirs is enough for Cere to believe her. She settles back in her chair, musing on what her life has become, sharing a bond with a Nightsister, before she shrugs it off and fully intends on finally going back to her reading with Merrin and Cal’s back-and-forth as a background noise.

Except Greez comes back again, the book he carries is much thinner than any of the ones stacked around Cal like a barrier. BD-1 clicks excitedly and Greez is grinning smugly as he waves the book in the air.

“Did you know this place has an unknown language section? Guess who found it!” he all but brags. Merrin frowns, nose wrinkling while Cal laughs brightly and holds out a hand for the book.

Greez slaps it in his hand, earning a scandalized look from one of the librarians. Merrin and Cere laugh as he hunches down with quick apologies. Cal inspects the book carefully. If there are any echoes, they’re soft and quick. He grins.

“Congratulations, Greez, I don’t know this one.”

The latero cheers silently, all four arms thrown up in victory.

Merrin rolls her eyes. “You still lost. I found one first.”

Cal hums. “Best two out of three? This place is open for another five hours.”

The two of them exchange looks for a full second before Merrin jumps out of her chair and rushes into the depths of the library. Greez yelps and follows her as fast as he can without running. Cere hides her face, as though that will keep people from realizing they’re with her. Cal laughs, covering his mouth with his book. His eyes peek over, glittering in mirth. He pulls the book away, and holds it to his cheek, leaning in like he has a secret. Cere can’t help but lean in to hear it.

“I already know the language,” he admits.

Cere blinks at him then laughs loudly – nearly getting them kicked out of the library.

[pixelkip]

Curiosities of Lotus Asia ch. 35 has an Aibo in it and I'm gonna be a nerd about it.

Ok I have no idea just how many touhou fans are aware of Laika, Rinnosuke's robot dog introduced in CoLA ch35 but if you're not aware, he finds this robot and it causes all sorts of chaos and wrecks his shop, and they eventually find out its possessed by a puppy spirit. If you're at all curious, go read it on the touhou wiki if you haven't already.

How do I know for sure that it's an Aibo? Well, on top of the fact it definitely resembles one, Sumireko suggests naming it Aibo and in BAiJR Aya literally says it's an aibo. This is one of the few things she probably didn't lie about in this book bc how the hell would she otherwise even know what an aibo is TO be able to lie about it.

(Side note, the official name is just "AIBO", im not sure why she calls it AIBO buddy here, maybe bc aibo is a pun on the japanese word meaning buddy but why tack it onto the end? Idk)

Ok for those who don't know what an aibo is, it's a series of robot dogs Sony made, there were several models released between 1999-2006, and later had the ers-1000 in 2018 which is still available (and I personally have an ers-111 :3)

Pictured: aibo models ers-310, 220, 110, 210, and 7

Ok, so, what kind of AIBO is Laika then?

This is where it gets.. confusing.

this line from sumireko would imply it's an ers-110, as it was the very first model of aibo ever released.

But.. laika doesn't look much like a 110

Ok the way she's drawn doesn't look that close to ANY real model of aibo, but the drawing makes her look more like a 210, with the (probably) white coloration, visor shape, and upturned ears.

(110 vs 210)

It's also possible she doesnt resemble any model too closely to avoid copyright issues, but even then she visually resembles a 210 much more than a 110.

Other than that ch35 doesn't give us much else to determine her model, she doesn't display any particular behaviors that would indicate it, rinnosuke says her expressions can't be read implying her eye lights are non functional, and that she's completely silent. Aibos LOVE to make noise, and usually communicate through music and tones, so it's likely the animal spirit is simply pup-petting (hehe) a nonfunctional aibo body. Rinnosuke also mentions that it's begun to actually listen to him, which would imply a 210 or later (110 and 111 do not have voice recognition) if it weren't for the possibility that again, it's just the puppy controlling it.

So there's a few possibilities here.

- zun didn't depict her to be any particular model to not get smited by sony's lawyers

- she is a 110 but for whatever reason, be it a miscommunication or just zun or the artist deciding it didn't matter that much, that isn't reflected in the art

- sumireko is wrong, and she is a 210

Or maybe she's just a 110 with some cool customization, like paint and custom ear pieces. Then again, she did pass into gensokyo meaning she's been totally forgotten, and that seems less likely if someone took the time to customize her.

So now im curious. Given the evidence, what do YOU think laika is? Even if you didn't know shit about aibo before this post, hell, ESPECIALLY if you didn't, what do you think?

Personally I kinda like to think she's a 210 bc I think they're neat. Maybe even a gold 210, since the yellow tinge in the cover art makes her look like the very pale gold of the pale gold 210s. But as an existing aibo enjoyer I'm a little biased

I really hope laika gets to come back at some point, I have a little bit of hope since beast spirits as a plot point have become a lot more significant. She seems like a very good doggy :]

If you for some reason read all of this thank you for indulging my insanity

[lingthusiasm]

Lingthusiasm Episode 77: How kids learn language in Singapore - Interview with Woon Fei Ting

Singapore is a small city-state nation with four official languages: English, Mandarin, Tamil, and Malay. Most Singaporeans can also speak a local hybrid variety known as Singlish, which arose from this highly multilingual environment to create something unique to the island. An important part of growing up in Singapore is learning which of your language skills to use in which situation.

In this episode, your host Gretchen McCulloch gets enthusiastic about how kids learn language in Singapore with Woon Fei Ting, who’s a Research Associate and the Lab Manager at the Brain, Language & Intersensory Perception Lab at Nanyang Technological University in Singapore. We talk about how the rich multilingual environment in Singapore led Fei Ting and the lab to do language documentation while trying to figure out how kids learn to talk in Singapore, creating a dictionary of Red Dot Baby Talk (named after how Singapore looks like a red dot on the world map). We also talk about Singlish more generally, some words that Gretchen has learned on her trip, doing research with kids and parents via Zoom, and the role of a lab manager and other lab members in doing linguistic research.

Read the transcript here.

Announcements: Our liveshow is in just a few days!! Gretchen will be chatting to Dr Kirby Conrod (from our episode about the grammar of singular they) about language and gender on February 18th (Canada) slash 19th (Australia)! You can find out what time that is for you here. This liveshow is for Lingthusiam patrons and will take place on the Lingthusiasm Discord server. Become a patron before the event to ask us questions in advance or live-react in the text chat. This episode will also be available as an edited-for-legibility recording in your usual Patreon live feed if you prefer to listen at a later date. In the meantime: ask us questions about gender or tell us about your favourite examples of gender in various languages and we might include them in the show!

In this month’s bonus episode we get enthusiastic about what we've been up to in 2022 and what's coming up for 2023. We also talk about our favourite linguistics paper that we read in 2022 slash possibly ever: okay, yes, academic papers don’t typically do this, but this paper has spoilers, so we STRONGLY recommend reading it yourself here before listening to this episode, or check out the sample paragraph on the Patreon post. Join us on Patreon now to get access to this and 70+ other bonus episodes, as well as access to the Lingthusiasm Discord server where you can chat with other language nerds, and get access to this weekends liveshow!

Here are the links mentioned in the episode:

Woon Fei Ting on Twitter

Lingthusiasm episode ‘What words sound spiky across languages? Interview with Suzy Styles’, the prof whose lab Fei Ting works in

BLIP lab at NTU on Facebook

‘Creating a Corpus of Multilingual Parent-Child Speech Remotely: Lessons Learned in a Large-Scale Onscreen Picturebook Sharing Task’ by Woon Fei Ting et al

BLIP lab’s transcription protocol and FAQ

‘Little Orangutan: What a Scary Storm!’ Wordless picture book by Suzy Styles

‘Spiaking Singlish: A Companion to how Singaporeans communicate’ by Gwee Li Sui

Lingthusiasm episode ‘Are you thinking what I'm thinking? Theory of Mind’

You can listen to this episode via Lingthusiasm.com, Soundcloud, RSS, Apple Podcasts/iTunes, Spotify, YouTube, or wherever you get your podcasts. You can also download an mp3 via the Soundcloud page for offline listening.

To receive an email whenever a new episode drops, sign up for the Lingthusiasm mailing list.

You can help keep Lingthusiasm ad-free, get access to bonus content, and more perks by supporting us on Patreon.

Lingthusiasm is on Twitter, Instagram, Facebook, and Tumblr. Email us at contact [at] lingthusiasm [dot] com

Gretchen is on Twitter as @GretchenAMcC and blogs at All Things Linguistic.

Lauren is on Twitter as @superlinguo and blogs at Superlinguo.

Lingthusiasm is created by Gretchen McCulloch and Lauren Gawne. Our senior producer is Claire Gawne, our production editor is Sarah Dopierala, and our production assistant is Martha Tsutsui Billins. Our music is ‘Ancient City’ by The Triangles.

This episode of Lingthusiasm is made available under a Creative Commons Attribution Non-Commercial Share Alike license (CC 4.0 BY-NC-SA).

[stealthydentist]

Mass Effect 3 is Sexist to the Asari

I always got the distinct impression in ME3 that the treatment the asari received was somehow spiteful.  I could never quite put my finger on why, simply suspecting BioWare had it out for them.  It never sat well with me.  But recently a fellow asari lore nerd spelled it out for me.  The way Mass Effect 3 treats the asari is tinged with misogyny.

Mass Effect 1 sets the stage for the asari.  The various Mass Effect art books all explicitly say the asari were designed to be feminine.  They’re the setting’s ancient, mysterious, mystical wise women.  They’re peaceful mediators, sensual lovers, and powerful warriors.  They’re female, referred to with feminine-coded words, their fashion is feminine, etc.  The asari contribute economically and diplomatically, leaving military concerns to the turians.  Anderson finds himself unable to take the asari seriously.  He views them as women, so he can't accept that they achieved dominance on their own.  Surely they needed help.  But he chides himself for thinking like that.  Again, the stage is set.  The asari are coded as women in the setting.

Actually I think the trend of BioWare dumping on the asari begins in Mass Effect 2.  It’s here the setting takes a drastic shift in tone away from classic sci-fi homage.  Mass Effect 2 changes the locale from the pristine Citadel to gritty Omega, after all.  Suddenly Mass Effect has no need for mystics.  In fact, not only are the asari out of the job, they need to be demystified.  It starts here.

We’re at Mass Effect 3 now.  Here the asari are shown to be helpless, needing the paternalistic protection of other species, patriarchal or at least chauvinist ones.  At the Ardat-Yakshi Monastery, Garrus has a line speaking ill of the dead Commandos you find, suggesting they’re not so fearsome after all.  At the Temple of Athame, Javik maligns the asari in a pointedly contemptuous way.  Remember Javik’s line where he indicates he’s disappointed the asari didn’t end up their successors, the way the protheans intended?  What a shame the asari are feminine and womanly and tender and kind, and not sneering imperialists.  On the political stage, it turns out the asari are secretly selfish and shortsighted and deceptive.  The asari Councilor is slow to respond, and ineffective when she eventually does.  When put to the test, the asari aren’t any good at diplomacy, the one thing they’re known for.

In the end, the asari have turned out to be the opposite of all the positive qualities attributed to them.  And the opposite of those qualities all just happen to be negative stereotypes about women.  It all seems perniciously sexist to me.

[alphysz]

- But i don't wanna to... - It was a lovely saturday outside, the weather was warm with a cool breeze that (Y/n) wanted to feel the wind caressing their hair, even if it was just for 5 little seconds and then go back sadly to the endless pages of pure torture, TSUKISHIMA calls it 'chemistry', (Y/n) said it was bullshit and received a rude 'for dumb people like you maybe is'

- If you are just going to complain, then why did you aggreed to come when i told you explicitly it was just a study session? - The blonde retorted bitterly from the table he was currently (trying to) study at, he knew he shouldn't have invited the (H/c) for a simple subject review, he should have known this would happen given their nature... not very studious

'Who am i fooling' He thought annoyed and slight amused at their dumbness 'They probably never picked up a textbook of good will.'

- I thought it was just you weird and nerd way to invite me to a date! - Tsukishima felt his eyebrow twitch

- Who would call a brainless being like you out on a date? - Seeing you pouting, he gived a smug grin and went back to answering the questions of the simulation he was working on for the upcoming exams

- Meanie, so evil. wait till i tell 'Dashi all the suffering you put me throught - You said as you let out your last dramatic sigh and went back to concentrating on the book and the formulas. little did you know that Tsukishima from time to time peeked out of the corner of his eye at your form lying on his bed as you nibbled absently on the tip of his pencil that he lent you, although he felt a slight tinge of irritation that you bite his pencil, he can't help but let an unusually small affectionate smile spread across his face.

'Well, maybe you are not so wrong about the date thing.'

[sarahowritesostucky]

wud u ever consider showing like a sneak peaks of the ebook? Just thinking since u posted the character info. Thanks! 😽

YES! Oh my god I cannot tell you what a massive smile this put on my face! Yes yes a 1000x yes.

I will totally share sneak peaks. I will go full nerd with my omc's and ofc for this book, I will sing you sweet lullabies of meta, I will tell you tales from the annals of their lives. Let's DO THIS.

Name: Verne Dearbourne - (Neé Thibodeaux)

Age: 42

Birthplace: Dorcheat Bayou, LA

Height: 6' 2"

Weight: 220 lbs

Hair: black

Eyes: yellow-tinged iris, hyper-contracted pupils

Scent: clean sweat, coffee, sawdust

Heritage: Mixed race - 3/4 white, 1/4 black. Louisiana Creole. Both parents shifters in the Dorcheat Bayou Reservation Pack.

Wolf: dark grey and black, lighter muzzle.

Body type: "built like a friggin' bear," sturdy and thick rather than lean, kinda hairy, bronzed skin, "surprisingly elegant feet." A girthy 7" that's "a lot to handle" 😉

Distinguishing marks: prominent facial scarring, shifter registration tattoo, eyes deformed/half-shifted, speaks with a noticeable Louisiana accent.

Interests: living that #hermit life, woodworking, homesteading, reading, chess

Personality: guarded and distrustful, hard working, quiet and introverted, possessive of things he loves, creative, industrious, loyal.

Excerpts:

"Verne was a hulking six-foot-two, two-hundred twenty pound alpha werewolf. He was what Lucas liked to call "stupid big," with some pretty gnarly scars that slashed from cheek to hairline on one side of his face."

"The big lug wouldn’t hesitate to hunt down a deer in the forest and mercilessly rip out its throat, but give him a little barnyard piglet to slaughter and suddenly Verne would start reconsidering the importance of bacon. He was a big old softie inside, covered with an outer shell so thick, he might as well be calcified."

Name: Lucas Dearbourne

Age: 33

Birthplace: Tulsa, OK

Height: 6'

Weight: 185 lbs

Hair: Light brown, wavy, shoulder-length, highlights leftover from the summer.

Eyes: Green and foxlike, slanted with a coy quality

Scent: Juniper, Vanilla, pine tree sap

Heritage: Middle American "white boy." Both parents shifters in the Tulsa Free Pack.

Wolf: Russet-grey, large.

Body type: built like a swimmer, strong and lean, more chiseled and less bulky than Verne. A respectable 6" 😉

Distinguishing marks: bite scar on neck from Verne.

Interests: writing, cheering up grumpy husband, bee keeping, cooking, chess

Personality: Creative, positive, playful, social, adventurous.

Excerpts:

"As an alpha himself, Lucas was supposed to be wired to hate being dominated by anyone. And usually he did. But with Verne it was different. With Verne, his wires were crossed. Always had been, always would be."

"He had wide shoulders and a trim waist. When he pulled his shirt overhead, it made all the muscles in his back ripple and move. And his front side was just as nice. His facial features were rather delicate for a man, with blond lashes framing upturned eyes, nice lips, and an elegantly sloped nose. His body balanced him out some, kept him from looking too boyish, but he was definitely the sort of guy you called 'pretty' before you ever thought to call him 'handsome.'"

[apinchofm]

Fic Rec Friday

Missed last week, lol

To Suspend Time by whysosiriusumbridge (@liliesandparchment)

Really great multiple POV introspection of Anthony, Edwina and Benedict after Kate's accident. Love that its all up on AO3 now!

Lady Sophia Maria Gunningworth by @sophiamariabeckett

I'm so excited to read this! Legitimate Sophie AU would be really interesting to read, and check out Belle's other fics and edits!

A Thing of Soft Misnomers by @valderois

Super angsty but super well written! I love Edwina having a happy ending but I also love an angsty introspection.

Mere Historical Enthusiasm by @morticiansflame

Rhaena and Aemond being historical nerds together is the best thing, and this is giving a romantic, 18th-century-type chaste affair (I've been reading a lot of historical romance books lol)

Peace Tinged With Betrayal by amn_elfire

Rhaena is fostered at King's Landing, and Aemond has a massive crush on her! Love it!

Spellbound by @datsusara84 

Kate and Anthony Witch AU! I love it already and I can't wait for the rest of the fic from one of my favourite writers.

[depressedstressedlemonzest]

Hey Lemon! How are you doing today? Did you do anything for Halloween?

I have some headcanon questions for you! We all know how Ian and Mickey's first kiss went down, but who initiated their second kiss? was it also a quick peck on the lips? How long after the first kiss did it happen?

-anon xx

Hi Lovely!!

I'm actually having a good day! Even though I had jury duty I basically just sat around on my phone because they didn't need me and spent the rest of the day doing fun stuff like shopping for books and going to build a bear, and the local nerd cave.

I didn't! I never get trick or treaters where I live, and I had jury duty while my work was having their party so i didn't get to dress up there either.

IAN INITIATED THE SECOND KISS!!!!

It was when they're sitting on the couch watching the movie and he was all amped up and nervous.

He turns to Mickey and Mickey turns to him, Ian is looking at Mickey's mouth and internally thinking 'play it cool play it cool play it cool'. And it doesn't even register to him that Mickey is just looking at every freckle on his face like he's trying to memorize them, and Mickey starts to say something, maybe starts to ask if Ian wants more pizza bagels or if Ian wants to play some grand theft auto, but Ian leans forward quickly and presses his lips to Mickey's.

He feels Mickey stiffen and he breaks away quickly, eyes wide, worried he's done something wrong.

"S-sorry, I just thought that since, we, you, s-sorry, fuck f-forget I did it." Ian stammers out an apology wanting to sink into the floor, looking everywhere but at Mickey, his face blazing.

Mickey's heart stutters and he huffs a half laugh, "I-" his breath catches, and his lips part.

Ian looks at him and feels his heart race.

Mickey licks his lips and his eyes search Ian's face, "I don't want to forget it."

Ian's eyes widen and his lips pull into a grin, "You don't?"

Mickey's lips quirk upwards, and he shakes his head from side to side.

Ian moves a little closer to Mickey and his eyes search his face, his hands shake as he tilts his head to the side as he leans closer to Mickey.

Mickey's eyes looking from Ian's lips to Ian's eyes, his cheeks tinge with pink as Ian gets closer and closer until they're a hairsbreadth apart.

Their breath warming the other's skin, mingling together.

Ian doesn't want to spook Mickey, so he whispers softly, "Is this okay?"

Mickey huffs another laugh, "Just kiss me Gallagher."

Ian is almost startled by his words enough to not kiss him, but he smiles and he presses his lips to Mickey's and it's like he's seeing colors for the first time, and that stars are bursting behind his eyes.

When their lips part Ian looks in Mickey's eyes and sees the stars bursting in his eyes too.

I loved this ask! Thank you dear!

[unusual-raccoon]

So is dork ass Viserys, loser nerd that he is, aware of genderswapped teenage Daemon's obsession with him? Or is it a common occurence for anyone in the castle to see Daemon "sexily" draped over the nearest flat surface, making eyes at Viserys, meanwhile Viserys is staring at the sky all "look Daemon, that cloud is shaped like a cat! How marvelous! Are you looking Daemon? The cloud my girl, look!"

Viserys innocently calls Daemon "my girl" all the time

First of all, anon, thank you for this ask.

‘My girl’ I’m gonna scream, he would 🥹.

What do we call fem!Daemon? Daena?

Flat chested, big-eared, Alyssa Targaryen copy n’pasted feral little sister constantly trying to seduce her older brother. Their father has had it with them 😤 (Baelon you CANNOT talk).

You know she’s up to something when she’s wearing a dress. Normally it’s a doublet/jerkin and trousers, but no no no, you know she’s scheming when she’s dressed befitting her station as a princess.

She’d be draped over Viserys’ desk while he’s reading about histories (absolutely outraged that he’s paying attention to some musty book instead of her) or laying on his bed while he sketches pages upon pages of what would eventually be become his model of Old Valyria.

Daena? (We’re going with that until we come up with something better) getting into ale house brawls because she’s a lawless unrepentant heathen and letting Viserys clean her up before morning so their father doesn’t find out.

“My brother, the maester,” she’d giggle, smelling of ale and blood as Viserys pinched the reddened bridge of her nose to stop the bleeding.

She’d definitely try to coax him out of his shell, though Viserys wasn’t shy per se.

“You should come with me to Flea Bottom,” she’d say, voice nasally while Viserys was stemming the blood from her nose, sopping up the mess, that tinged her pale skin copper, with torn linens.

“Why is that?” He’d ask.

Daena would shrug, silver hair swaying, “There are brothels - girls, in Flea Bottom.”

Viserys would offer a small smile.

“And why should I want any girls in Flea Bottom for company, when I have you?” His touch on the bridge of her nose feather-light. Her head is tilted back, the taste of hot iron sliding down her throat. Blood the dragon. She smiles, all teeth and lunges for his mouth.

———

To answer your question, anon - he is very aware. Some might even say he’s playing hard to get…

[trudemaethien]

For Taking, Forgiving

Maze/Jaing for paxduane for the 2022 Star Wars Rarepairs Exchange

rated E, no archive warnings, Kal Skirata’s A+ Parenting, Somehow simultaneously dubious AND enthusiastic consent, Secret Relationship, Internalized Homophobia, Unreliable Narrator, Under-negotiated Kink, Miscommunication, Rough Sex, Tender Sex, Breeding Kink, A little of the Genders™️, Marriage Proposal/Declarations Of Love, First Time, (Not Really) Character Death, Happy Ending

Everything about this was ill-advised; Jaing could just imagine what Kal’buir would have to say about all of it.

He activated the door code with steady fingers and stepped into the room like he belonged.

Maze faced the door like any good soldier keeping his lines of sight clear. His head dipped as he looked up immediately, frowning with expressive curiousity at the stranger intruding. Then his face shifted and he slid his datapad deftly away under the desktop. “Null…Six?” he asked, which was a fair guess, since officially Kom’rk was the closest and most likely non-Ordo-or-Mereel brother out of them to be here.

Too bad Jaing kept his movements off the record. He couldn’t help the little bit of smirk that curled around the corners of his mouth. Maze’s eyes narrowed and flicked up and down Jaing’s form again. He tilted his head shrewdly. “No?” he asked, trying to puzzle it out.

“Jaing,” he introduced himself, taking another step forward. Maze’s eyes landed on the item in his hand. “Little nuna told me you’re into, uh,”—he stopped himself short from saying nerd shit like he wasn’t a total hypocrite for even thinking it—“reading. Books.” He placed the book onto the desk, stretching slightly too far. Suddenly Jaing got the sure and certain feeling he’d gotten this wrong. It shouldn’t matter. He didn’t really care.

“Does Captain Ordo know you think he’s a nuna?” Maze asked dryly, attention shifting superficially from Jaing to examine the volume he’d brought.

“Oh, sure,” Jaing said, latching onto the provided excuse that Ordo was his source of information. “Nice hit, by the way. Ord’ika could stand to be bullied more.”

Maze glanced up at him again briefly, the slightest tinge of amusement in his eyes, but he was mostly interested in the book. Which had been Jaing’s goal, really, so that was good, even if something about being ignored made him writhe inside. He had the sense that Maze was actually very aware of him, and that helped soothe that feeling.

Maze opened it and flipped through the first couple pages, tracing fingers along headings and down the list of contents, then rifling farther into the back of the book. “This, I think, was cited in that other…” he mumbled, half to himself.

Jaing swallowed. He’d noticed that himself, and underlined that bit. He was torn now on whether to stay and watch Maze’s brain at work in real time, or duck out and spare himself the humiliation. He ended up being too slow to choose.

Maze looked up at him sharply, and closed the book with a snap. “Ordo doesn’t know about this,” he said with certainty and an edge of accusation.

Jaing shifted, then shrugged as nonchalantly as he could manage. “He’s not the boss of me,” he said, and didn’t explain any further. “If you don’t want it—” He reached out as if to take the book back and Maze’s hand landed firmly and heavily square on the cover.

“Well, then. Let me know what you think,” Jaing said with a little flare of triumph, hope fluttering inside him. He hadn’t fucked this up too badly, he thought. He stepped backward and almost ran into the doorframe; not the smoothest exit, but he ducked out and left before he could mangle anything else. There were only a couple turns in the passageway to the exterior exit, and he knew how to move like a cool operator even if he didn’t feel like one.

Kriff. Send him undercover any day.

read on AO3 🔒 https://archiveofourown.org/works/43316976