#except for the part where the text is weirdly high up in the first gif as soon as i upload it to tumblr

[airenyah]

Bad Buddy (2021) | Moonlight Chicken (2023) Dir. Aof Noppharnach Chaiwimol

[nincompoopydoo]

PAIRING, BAGELS, REPEAT

— PALM TO PALM IS HOLY PALMER’S KISS ; PART 3 / ?

PAIRING: Bruce Wayne x reader

WORD COUNT: 1846

SUMMARY: You’re back to teaching at Gotham High and you end up overlooking rehearsals for the GHS drama club’s upcoming annual play: Romeo and Juliet that no one ever attends. In the spirit of keeping your students’ hopes up, you decide to take it upon yourself to draft out a plan to drive more people to come to the play. The key is the man you’re in love with.

WARNINGS: Vague description of a nightmare, death and an annoying teenager.

A/N: This is really going slowly like a true slow burn. I hope yall like this one. Enjoy!

MASTERLIST ; MASTERPOST

In the light of your unemployment as a teacher, Gotham High miraculously offered your old job back after Mrs Wilson, one of the senior English Literature teachers, died of a heart attack unannounced. In all seriousness, apologies were made, admitting they had a mistake with firing you because well, you were clearly a passionate teacher. To your surprise, you were told your students even missed you. Hence, you accepted a job from GHS once again because you would do anything to avoid the smell of burgers and the sounds of hungry crying children. After the whole burglary incident, the Big Belly Burger at midtown was forever doomed as customers gradually decreased over time. It was Gotham after all, people should be used to these kinds of things by now. Including witnessing Batman saving you, the whole experience felt like a fever dream. As excited you were and weirdly unbothered by the whole near-death experience, you realized that if you were to talk about it, no one would genuinely believe you anyway. He was a myth to most citizens of Gotham, but you’re an exception because you’re well acquainted with the knowledge that Bruce definitely knows Batman.

And oh boy, do they talk.

It’s your secret to keep and so is the Batarang you stole. You’re also dying to tell Bruce.

So, you find yourself back in the hallways, crowded with sweaty teenagers, but you would choose this over anything else in a heartbeat. Apart from returning to teaching uninterested students about the works of Shakespeare and Harper Lee and forcing reading lists onto them, you are also replacing Mrs Wilson as the GHS Drama Club’s advisor. Stage performance may be personally foreign to you but plays were practically your forte. That was how you ended up spending your Tuesday afternoons, preparing the members for the club’s annual play. This time, they decided to perform the classic: Romeo and Juliet.

As an English teacher, you were frankly sick of the play, forbidden love was a tad overrated to you. Yet the kids were genuinely trying their best. Shaniqua and Oscar were currently rehearsing their lines as the two infamous star-crossed lovers; You watched them with pride. The two were quiet in your classes but they truly shone on the stage of the school theatre.

“And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss—teach, what does this whole scene even mean?” Shaniqua exclaims and you chuckle, “This scene is simply a metaphor where Romeo is a pilgrim wanting to erase his sins and Juliet is a saint. So, he is basically trying to convince her to kiss him so that he can truly be free of sin,” your explanation echoes through the room, and you notice Oscar turning red when you mention the word ‘kiss’. It was clear as day that the poor boy really liked the girl he’s currently hand in hand with but you don’t want him to feel nervous and uncomfortable about the thought of kissing her. “Now Oscar, you can kiss her on the cheek and that’s fine. Shaniqua, say it with more emotion, okay? Everyone got it?” The response you received was a sputter of hums and nods. Before you could continue, Josh, who plays Lord Capulet and is sitting lazily on the handmade throne, speaks up much to your dismay, “Why is it so important that we put so much effort into this. It’s not like anyone is going to come.” The kids around him began agreeing with his statement, and it was honestly completely expected of him but it was the truth. No one attends the drama club’s annual play. As you're trying to calm everyone down, your phone buzzes on the table in front of you. It’s a text from Bruce, asking if you could come over tonight, phrasing it like he’s a schoolboy sneaking from his parents to meet with a girl late at night. Then, like an epiphany you have an idea although there’s an eighty percent chance it wouldn’t go through. Nevertheless, you turn to the rest of the students with a hint of a smile on your lips. “I might have just the idea to solve that.”

-

A brief span seemed like an eternity when sleep doesn’t come easy to you. Tonight was a different case; thoughts were completely clear and concise. In much need of sleep, you steal the chance to savour in this clarity and serenity for as long as you could. To feel his warmth, arm gently resting on your abdomen and the occasional whiff of his deodorant from his ebony shirt you’re dressed in. If this was what bliss feels like, you never want it to go away. Your eyes grow heavy, flickering into darkness due to exhaustion from a long day of rehearsals. At once, you’re struck with the reminder of the idea you had this afternoon. It is more of a favour, involving none other than Bruce. There’s a tinge of guilt whenever favours are involved because you never liked asking for help. You were furiously independent and responsible, relying on others was out of the question. Yet, Bruce has always seemed to find a way to weave himself in your mistakes and problems, constantly there to help out. You have to remind yourself this isn’t about you. It’s for the kids. Special guest, Bruce Wayne, playboy and billionaire. Sounds awesome.

As your consciousness begins ebbing away, you feel Bruce shift from beside you, grasp tightening upon your waist. Before your dazed mind could even fully process that he was in the midst of a nightmare, his eyes are wide open, heart-pounding and it seizes him up instantly. With deep breaths, he closed his eyes once more, unable to shake the feeling of dread that rattles in him. Then, a sudden cold touch to his arm—he jumps and snaps his head to look over his shoulder.

It’s you, still laid in bed with a prominent frown upon your brows. Your hand squeezes his forearm and all he feels is instant relief. His heart still pounds, not in fear but with affection. “Are you okay?” you drawled as you watch his lingering hand, fingers weaved between the strands of hair. The silver ones glint under the low light, contrasting the deep brown ones. You notice how his hair had grown along with his five o’clock shadow becomes more evident by the days. His face away from you, finally nodding in response to your question. “Yeah, just... a bad dream. His voice is subdued as he shifts under the sheets, head leaning against the headboard. Despite your weakened state, you bring yourself to sit up, twisting your body to face him properly. "You wanna talk about it?” you say, patting his shoulder lightly in a comforting manner. You watch him rub his eyes, exhale tightly and shake his head. “No. Anything but that.”

His response comes out almost harsh but Bruce doesn’t mean for it to be perceived in that way. His dream was the usual, the normal ones he’s used to by now but in times of stress overwork, they have started to become more intense and violent. This time it involved you, for the first time, and he watched you vividly get shot in the forehead—trails of his memory as Batman when he encountered you at the burger restaurant with the muzzle of a gun inches away from you. It haunts him to think that if the circumstances were different if you hadn’t texted him those dreaded four words, you might be dead.

He certainly is not telling you about the dream. Never in a million years.

Bruce turns to you and you’re still staring at him, worry carved deep in your furrowed brows. Change of topic was merely necessary at this point. “So, how has school been? The kids still mean to you?” Classic Bruce, always sweeping his problems under the antique Persian rug. You don’t blame him because you wouldn’t know better.

It was your turn to sigh at the mention of school but since tonight’s pillow talk is heading towards your job as an English teacher at GHS, you might as well use the opportunity to pitch in your plan. “Still mean, but the drama club kids are really great,” You thumb the edge of the blanket, unable to hide your growing smile. “Speaking of which, the annual play is next Friday and they have been rehearsing all week but,” you paused as you watched his right brow gradually lift. “No one comes for it. Like, no one and I hate to see all their efforts just thrown out the window like that—”

“So, you want me to go for it.”

You blinked, wondering if your explanations were too obvious of its underlying intent or Bruce could just read you like an open book. You won’t be surprised if it’s the latter.

“If it’s no biggie. You don’t have to because I know you’re very busy but I don’t want the special guest to end up being the Big Belly Burger mascot.” Your smile widens and Bruce chuckles. Hell, it’s probably past midnight and you’re still able to find ways to be terribly funny. Literally terrible. After a beat of silence, he clears his throat. “I’ll clear my schedule.” It didn’t need much anticipation or thought because despite everything going on in his life, he knows he’ll do just about anything for you. You’re practically beaming at him and he finally sees it’s all worth it in the end. “Thank you, Bruce.” Your voice is sweet, and it makes his heart swell ever so slightly.

He sometimes wishes the two of you weren’t trapped in this loophole of unsaid confessions and hidden strong emotions for the other.

It almost comes naturally when he leans to you and presses a swift kiss to your forehead. Instead, it’s contradicting everything the two of you consider normal. He isn’t thinking straight and now your smile has disappeared, mouth agape and eyes very wide. Your brain stops.

Uh, what the hell just happened?

It hits him like a punch to the gut and the growing awkward silence is deafening. Yet, he doesn’t apologise because if he does, it doesn’t mean anything when in reality, it means so much more than just an accidental gesture. You don’t mention anything because you don’t objectify his actions. Kissing Bruce was fine when there are no strings attached but a peck to the forehead is way too affectionate for the man.

Before the both of you begin to overthink the events of a few moments ago, Bruce’s rational conscience kicks in and he clears his throat. “Get some sleep. You had a long day today.” He pats you on the shoulder awkwardly and you hum, shifting your head to lay back on the pillow. “Yesterday.” you correct him as it’s well past midnight. He chuckles, now laying flat on his back as he stares at the ceiling. Silently, the two of you agree to forget whatever happened a minute ago and to just...sleep it off.

TAGLIST:

@raineeace

[leejungchans]

— fashion consultant.

juliet’s masterlist

set in may 2020

summary: in which juliet needs a second opinion from her victim fashion consultant before a date.

a/n: bc sangliet as a duo deserve more love 😔💕

Juliet stares at her reflection in the full-length mirror in her room before craning her head to look at the other outfit laid out on the bed with narrowed eyes.

She’s definitely overthinking this like she does with practically everything else, but can you blame her for wanting to make a good impression?

With a frustrated huff, she throws her bedroom door open to look down the hallway only to find it empty, light peeking out from under the other doors. If she listens carefully enough, she can hear the clacking sound of San’s keyboard as he games.

Juliet debates on whether she should knock on one of the boys’ doors. She doesn’t want to disrupt their rest, but she really needs a second opinion.

The maknae grins to herself when she finds Yeosang in the kitchen enjoying a cup of instant ramen.

She’s found her victim—uh... consultant.

“Perfect timing, oppa!” she chirps as she makes her way over to him, tugging at his sleeve to drag him back to her room.

“But I’m still eating!” he whines.

“You can eat while helping me.”

Yeosang looks at her weirdly. “I thought you hate it when people eat in your room,” he points out. “Because of crumbs and bugs and stuff.”

“I’m making an exception for you as this is an emergency,” Juliet sighs, shutting the door behind them. “But please don’t spill it everywhere.”

Yeosang takes a sip of the soup before passing the cup to Juliet after she makes grabby hands at it. “What’s the emergency?”

She drinks the spicy broth slowly to avoid it going down the wrong tube. “I can’t decide on which outfit to wear,” she finally reveals, handing the cup back to him.

“That’s it?”

“Hey! First impressions matter!”

“Since when did you replace Hongjoongie-hyung with me as your fashion adviser?”

“Since he decided to sleep in his studio instead of here,” Juliet sighs, hoping their leader isn’t currently overworking himself, which he no doubt is.

“Who are you seeing at this hour, anyways?” Yeosang asks suspiciously. “It’s almost ten.”

Juliet mumbles something unintelligible.

“Yeah, I definitely heard that,” he says sardonically before shoving another mouthful of noodles into his mouth.

The girl huffs before speaking in a louder voice. “I’m seeing Channie. Happy?”

“Bang Chan? Aren’t you two close? What did you mean by ‘first impressions’ then?”

Juliet laughs awkwardly. “No, not that Chan. I meant Dino.”

Yeosang cocks a brow at her. “Oh? Moved past the ‘Dino-sunbaenim’ phase, I see.”

She groans at his teasing. “Shut up. We’ve only been texting and talking over the phone until now, so I don’t want to look too horrible for our first time seeing each other in person.”

“I’ve never seen you wear a bad outfit before, but okay. What’s wrong with the one you’re wearing right now?” He gestures to her current ensemble, which comprises a white crop top under a leather jacket with wide-legged grey sweatpants that barely graze the floor.

“Well, it’s not wrong,” Juliet says, turning back to her mirror, “just... don’t you think it’s too casual? What if I wore that with this jacket instead?” Yeosang’s gaze shifts to where her finger is pointing, eyes landing on the oversized button-up dress laid neatly on her bed.

“But if I wear the dress, I’ll have to dig out my boots because I’m so not wearing sneakers with it,” Juliet mumbles, more so to herself than Yeosang.

He smiles amusedly as she continues to talk to herself. “Where did I even put those boots? Seonghwa-oppa will know, but I don’t want to bother him if he’s already sleeping... Are boots too much for May?”

“Where are you two even going? Like... is this a date?”

Juliet’s head snaps up in alarm. “N-no!” she splutters. “It’s not a date-date! A friend-date. We’re just going to get food. As friends.”

“If you say so.”

Juliet ignores his knowing comment. “Here’s what we’re gonna do,” she says, spinning around to face him. “Commit this outfit to memory.”

“Uh... okay?”

“Good, now...” her voice trails off as she grabs Yeosang’s shoulders, rotating his body so he faces the wall behind him. “Don’t move! I’m changing.”

After a minute of shuffling she gives him the green light to turn around, and he finds her wearing the dress over the crop top with the same jacket draped over her shoulders, her sweatpants hastily tossed onto her bed.

“Just imagine I’m wearing my black knee-high boots with this,” she instructs. “Which outfit’s better?”

“Is the top part of the outfit, or...?”

“Oh, no, I just left it on in case you prefer the first one.”

Yeosang tilts his head to the side as he looks her over. “Yeah, I think the first one’s better,” he says after a few moments of consideration, “not that this one isn’t good, it still is, but the first one just looked more comfortable.”

“You don’t think that one’s too casual?” Juliet asks with a slight pout. She doesn’t know why she’s already so stressed when she hasn’t even left for the date.

Scratch that, she does know. They both do.

“No,” Yeosang reassures, “but even if it is, who cares? He didn’t become friends with you because of how you dress.”

Juliet falls silent, eyes trained on the floral pattern on her bedding as his words sink in. “You’re right, the first one it is then,” she finally says, looking up with a smile before putting back on the pants and removing the dress.

“Don’t forget your mask,” Yeosang reminds as she grabs a black bucket hat from her closet.

“In this economy? Never,” Juliet jokes, putting on the black mask that she pulled out from her bag. “Any final comments?” she asks, holding out her arms to show him the full outfit.

“No, you’re good to go. How are you getting there and coming back, by the way? Please don’t tell me you’re gonna walk alone in the dark.”

Juliet laughs as they walk back to the living room so she can put on her shoes. “No, he’s driving. Don’t worry, Sangie.”

Yeosang nods while she puts on her high top sneakers. “Ah, so you’re already at that level of friendship.”

Juliet briefly looks up to give him a halfhearted glare as she deftly ties the shoelaces. “I have no idea what you’re trying to hint at, but I don’t like it one bit. We’re just friends.”

“If you say so,” Yeosang sings, repeating what he said earlier.

“Goodbye, Kang Yeosang.”

“Love you too! Stay safe!”

Juliet rolls her eyes affectionately as she heads out, waving to him before closing the door behind her.

At that moment, San enters the living room to refill his water bottle. “Was that Julie? Where is she going?”

Yeosang grins. “She’s on a date-that-she-claims-isn’t-a-date.”

a/n: yeosang being big-brained as usual and foreseeing everything 🤩✨ hehe pretty proud of how this turned out!! please leave feedback and chat with me!! also if you want you can send me some ideas as to what you want to see from juliet 🥺💕 thank you for reading and ily!!!