you can smile too there is no problem with that

Straight White Boy Problem #955

*taking a Group pic with the BROS*

Ethan: *holding iphone* hey guys get closer together no homo

Me: *Breakss out Of the awkward reality before a picture is taken* WAIT…we didnt decide if we were smiling or taking a SERIOUS photo…

David: lets take a smiling one…and THEN a serious one…

Matt: …….can I be serious in both???

me: wait ethan we want you to be in the picture too! get that lady over there to take it!

Jay: *annoyed* c'mon david JUST be cool with this! Take the picture already ethan!! This shouldn’t be that hard! *whispers* No homo…

*everybody SLIGHTLY laughs at the bizarre combination of a dick joke and a no homo joke*

Ethan: *tapping iphone* ok got it

Jay: ETHAN send me that pic so I can put it on the gram dude!!!

Ethan: fuck you jay..I’ll send it to you when I want to

me: can you guys chill? This is our last time hanging out before college we don’t need to get mad

*things get awkward as fuck because this is a reality that has been imminent for months but suddenly Matt brought up “Football” so we started talking about….the sport*

“Maybe I was jealous.” | Shawn Mendes

Requested by anon :  19. w/ Shawn please and thank you :)

I was talking to Jack when Shawn came up to us and cleared his throat. “Oh hey, babe,” I smiled lightly. 

“(Y/N), can we go home now?” He asked. “I don’t feel too good.”

I could tell that he was lying but I nodded anyway. “Yeah, that’s fine,” I stated and turned to Jack. “Bye G, it was nice seeing you again.”

He waved a goodbye as Shawn practically dragged me out of the little get together. “Woah, Shawn, chill,” I huffed as we made it outside of the house. “What’s your problem?”

He didn’t answer my question instead he unlocked the car and opened my door for me. I rolled my eyes and got in the passeneger seat as he made his way to the driver’s side. “Babe, seriously, what’s wrong?”

Again, he did not answer me. Instead, he put the keys in the ignition and reversed out of the driveway. His jaw was lightly clenched and he seemed kind of angry.

What did I even do? Or maybe, it wasn’t me that did something, maybe it was someone else because he was talking to Johnson before he came up to me so maybe he said something that made him mad.

I turned on the radio and just sat there listening to music since Shawn didn’t want to talk. I hate when he’s like this.

He pulled into our driveway, took out the keys, and got out of the car without a word. I huffed loudly as I opened my door and walked to the porch where Shawn was unlocking the front door.

He got it open and walked inside, going straight upstairs to our bedroom. I shut the door and rolled my eyes. I am not in the mood to deal with him right now so I walked to the kitchen to get a bottle of water.

He wants to act childish? Okay, that’s on him. Whatever, I’m done. I have tried to talk to him but he doesn’t want to talk about it so whatever, I’m not going to force him.

I drank my water and made my way over to the couch. I turned on the TV and began to watch ‘The Vampire Diaries.’ 

Maybe thirty minutes into the episode, I began to feel really sleepy so I turned off the TV and all of the lights and made my way upstairs to mine and Shawn’s bedroom.

He was laying on the bed, sleeping. I went into the bathroom to wash my makeup off of my face and change into some pajamas. When I finished putting on my t-shirt, I felt two arms wrap around my waist which nearly gave me a heart attack.

I turned to see Shawn standing there with a look of guilt on his face. “Baby, are you okay?” I asked.

“I’m sorry for being a dick earlier,” he sighed and pulled me closer to him. “Maybe I was jealous, I don’t know, but that’s no excuse to be a jerk to you. I love you and I’m sorry.”

I furrowed my eyebrows together in confusion. “Jealous about what?”

“You were talking to Jack,” he shrugged, “and I know that you two used to have a thing a long time ago. I don’t know, I get paranoid when I see you two together because I don’t want you to leave me for him. It’s silly, I know.”

I sighed lightly. “Shawn, you know that would never happen. And yes, we had a thing but that was three years ago. I’m completely over him, you should know that. We’re just friends, he’s dating Madison. No need to be jealous, I love you and only you.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” he stated and kissed my lips.

“It’s okay but come on, lets go to bed. I’m exhausted.”

Maybe when the words “I’m fine” comes out of my mouth enough times, I’ll start to believe it. Maybe one day when someone asks I won’t have to lie through my teeth and muster a lackluster smile. Oh, I can’t wait for the that day.

I don’t like lying to everyone, but, at this point, it’s better than revealing the truth. No one wants to hear me whine or talk about you. They’ve got their own problems; they don’t need to be burdened with mine, too.

It’s been months and everyone has been more than patient with me, hearing me out and consoling me. But some days it’s not enough. No matter how much they try, they can’t understand. They don’t know the thoughts that create chaos in my mind and make getting out of bed seem like an impossible task.

On days like this, you’re all I think about. I see you in everything, half expecting you to join me in the kitchen. As I cook breakfast for one, I miss the feeling of your hands around my waist and remember how you used to take your eggs. Scrambled. And the orange juice, fresh squeezed with no pulp. I was never much of a fan, but you enjoyed it so I didn’t mind taking a little extra time to make your favorite breakfast.

Instead of my usual black coffee, I chose the juice today. I needed a change. Besides, the caffeine wouldn’t have helped my headache.

Copybook [Namjoon]

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader
Genre: Fluff
Word Count: 5784
Description: Copybook: adjective - exactly in accordance with established criteria; perfect.

Author’s Note: This is the first time I’m writing a fic for Namjoon our very own Leader Mon and I really really hope you guys like it and I hope it’s not too out of character or anything also there was supposed to be angst and smut in this but then i encountered many many problems and decided i could not *siighhh*….

“I can’t believe Kim Namjoon’s going to be tutoring you! I would die for this opportunity!”

You glare at your friend, and she smiles brightly back at you. Sighing, you shove your math test into your bag, smiling as you see the red ‘F’ get crumpled into a corner. “I am actually going to die. How am I failing maths so early on in the year anyways? My mom is going to slaughter me.”

“Think about it this way: you’re killing two birds with one stone. Fixing up your grades, and getting prime time with the number one most desired guy in our entire school!”

You make a face at her, and she shrugs, skipping happily ahead.

Kim Namjoon was a name everyone knew in school. Girls and boys alike wanted to date him or fuck him or both and teachers practically jumped at the opportunity to take him as their student. As a handsome, straight-A student, and the star of the track team, you (and everyone else) knew he was definitely going places in life. From what you’d heard, he was also extremely nice, humble, and probably every other adjective that described good. He was only a year older than you, too.

You shudder a little at the thought; the idea of someone so perfect only served to make you wonder what they were hiding. It was impossible for a human being to be good-looking, have good grades, and be a star athlete at the same time. Silently, you thank your lucky stars that your older sibling wasn’t like Kim Namjoon in any way apart from their age, the snappish voice of your mother comparing the two of you immediately rising in your mind. Ah, what torture it would be to have to live up to someone who embodied perfection in every inhumane way.

“[Name]! [Name]? Um, [Name]!”

You’re shaken out of your thoughts with a hard kick to the back of your knees that has you buckling forwards instantly, notebooks sliding messily out of your arms and bag falling heavily to the crook of your elbow.

You crumple against the person in front of you, cursing under your breath even as strong arms make to pull you upright immediately. You look up at the person you’d fallen against, blowing hard to get hair out of your eyes, and freeze as you’re met with wide eyes crinkled at the corners and perfect dimples decorating an amused smile.

Of course it was Kim Namjoon.

“I guess you could say you really fell for me?” Namjoon jokes uncertainly, eyes curling into crescents as he chuckles at his own joke.

“Sorry,” you mutter, willing the pink to leave your cheeks as you scoop your books up fluidly. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Oh, that’s good,” Namjoon says, grinning, before his face falls as he catches sight of your confused expression. “I mean, not that that’s good that you’re not paying attention when you walk, because you could get hurt, but, like, I just meant — because you weren’t responding, I thought I got your name wrong, and —” He stops abruptly and you think it may have something to do with the way you bite down on your lip and squint narrowly as he rambles.

Didn’t your friend (traitorous bitch who’d ran away after kicking you) say Kim Namjoon was so eloquent he should be narrating children’s bedtime stories?

Namjoon smiles sheepishly at you and you stare at the way his chapped lips stretch across perfectly straight, white teeth. “Sorry, I should probably introduce myself before making even more of a fool out of myself. I’m Kim Namjoon. Mr. Bang assigned me to tutor you, yeah?”

You’re silent for a moment, before you realise you’re just standing there staring at his face, mouth half-open like some fish out of water, and you rush to speak. “Yeah, yes, that’s right. That is correct. Yes. I should stop talking.”

Namjoon only smiles knowingly, before running a hand ruggedly through his hair, biceps rippling as he lifts his arm. “So, since I’m supposed to tutor you at least until Mr. Bang gives you the thumbs up, I was thinking we could set a schedule together? Work around our extracurriculars, you know.”

“Oh, I don’t have any.” The words leave your mouth before you register them yourself, and when they do, you want to bury yourself just a little bit. You’re not sure why you’re suddenly self-conscious, but it probably has something to do with the fact that the person in front of you is on the school’s famous track team and running multiple student-led clubs, and you’re failing maths and participating in nothing. Ah, well. What was it people said about being unique and your own person?


“I don’t have any extracurriculars,” you say brusquely, making a last ditch attempt at salvaging whatever dignity you have left and not stumble over your words. “So whenever you’re free is good with me.”

“Oh, okay,” he says brightly. “Friday, then? The library? I usually have practice straight after school, so would five to six be okay? It’s just practice on other days last longer, and —”

“Yeah, that’s completely fine with me!” you say hurriedly, wanting nothing more than to end the conversation. “I’ll see you Friday, then? I have math on that day, too, so it’s good.”

“Okay, that’s good. That’s great! I’ll guess I’ll, yeah, see you then!”

He smiles at you again and you nod quickly, bow, and duck your head to walk away as fast as you can, clutching your books tightly to your chest.

Kim Namjoon is a friendly, too-nice person with deep-set dimples and a smile so dazzling you feel mildly nauseated. In short, he really does live up to the ‘perfect’ people have been telling you about. You decide that he is not the kind of person the types of you can hang around.  And that is a decision you tell yourself is final.

Even though you really hadn’t been having that good of a time in school that week, time flies by anyways, and Friday comes by quicker than it should have.

You stumble tiredly through your classes and take notes half-heartedly, recording information in shorthand and abbreviations you make up on the spot out of boredom and know you’ll forget by the time you look at the notes again to study.

Lunch passes, and then so do your last classes, and then your friend is clutching your hands in between hers and making you promise to tell her everything about your time with Kim Namjoon before rushing off for the buses, leaving you blinking slowly behind her, processing her rapid-fire words long after they’ve spilled out from her lips.

You’re posture’s horrid as you walk to the library, back slumped and leaning forwards over your feet as they drag themselves in the direction of your destination. Your arms hang lifelessly by your side, dragging your bag across the linoleum floors. Normally you’d remind yourself to straighten up, but the halls are empty and quiet, and you feel somewhat drained from the school week. Thank the heavens it was Friday and school was over and you could sleep your weekend away. And yet. There was one last hurdle you had to clear.

You didn’t know what you were expecting from Kim Namjoon but you couldn’t help but feel as if something was slightly off about him. It was as if he had been using his friendly, welcoming attitude as a façade to hide something else; even as his smile had stretched wide across his face, you couldn’t help but recall how it seemed that it didn’t reach his eyes. Or perhaps you were just being overly suspicious after hearing about how he was flawless.

Sighing you shove your hand into your pocket and reach for your phone, sitting down at a table in a corner, away from the librarian’s counter. The clock reads 3:27, which means you had about one and a half hours to get started on your homework so that you would only have to focus on math by the time it was five o’clock. Or you could take a nap.

Sighing contentedly, you settle on the latter proposition, reaching for a paperback from a shelf behind you and flipping the book open to the middle. You sandwiched the book between your fingers, so that it rested snugly, opened by your thumb and pinky, and held upright by three fingers at the back. Stretching the arm in front of you, you rested your chin on your other arm and brushed your hair in front of your face. If anyone passed by, hopefully it’d look like you were just reading lazily.

Yawning lightly, you turn so that your body rests more comfortably, twisting your legs together and tucking them under the cramped table. And then you fall asleep.

“Hey, [Name]…”

There’s a soft pat on your shoulder, a gentle shake.

“Five minutes, mom,” you grumble, brows furrowing. “I promise.”

A chuckle. Your mom would never chuckle like that. Your eyes fly open and you straighten so abruptly the chair rocks backwards on its wobbly legs and you smack your head against the bookshelf behind you. “Bang Sihyuk!” you curse, grabbing at the back of your head.

“Bang… Sihyuk?”

You turn slowly, robotically to face the confused voice, hyper aware of the post-nap rat’s nest you called your hair, and the ridges in your cheek imprinted from the sleeve of your sweater. “Namjoon-ssi,” you say in lieu of a greeting, ducking your head in an imitation of a bow.

Namjoon smiles and nods in return, pulling the chair beside you out and sitting. He’s changed out of his track uniform and smells like laundry detergent, and his hair is damp from a shower. You reach for your math books quickly and turn back around to face Namjoon, drawing back when you see he’s staring at your face intently.

Suddenly he leans forwards, hand reaching over to your face. Your eyes squeeze shut instinctively, and you feel his fingers graze over your cheek before leaving, but you still don’t open your eyes until a moment after.

“You had hair stuck on your cheek,” Namjoon explains, and you scream inwardly before grabbing your hair in messy bunches and twisting it into a ponytail. “So, uh, Bang Sihyuk? Like your math teacher?”

You flush, remembering your exclamation, and flip quickly through your workbook, hoping your expression remains somewhat nonchalant. “It’s, um, a joke. Last year, in Mr. Bang’s classroom, there was this poster that said ‘If you’re going to swear, use your own name’ and it was written as a quote from God. I don’t think it was actually Mr. Bang’s, probably just left there sometime, but then we started saying ‘Bang Sihyuk!’ whenever we dropped something, or something weird happened. And it just kinda stuck, I guess.”

Namjoon snorts. “I’ll remember that. My mom said I shouldn’t swear.”

Hearing that, you can’t help but smile, imagining the all-too perfect Kim Namjoon getting chided for letting a curse slip whilst his mother was around.

“So, uh, what are you working on? We should probably get started.”

You shake the last remnants of sleep off of you, and pass the workbook over to him, flipping open the notebook where you do the homework. “We’re working on the, um, sequences and series right now.”

Namjoon’s staring at your workbook intensely, and as you look down you see that the pencil markings from the times you’d attempted the problem in class are etched clearly into the top of the paper, where the starter questions are located. You bite down on your lip, feeling embarrassment claw up your throat. “I-I know it’s easy, I mean, all my classmates said they were, but I just didn’t really understand the concept, and I know they’re the easiest questions but —”

“I struggled with sequences, too, when I began to learn them,” Namjoon says softly, and all your distressing thoughts disappear at the comforting tone. “It’ll seem easy to you later, honestly, but everything’s confusing at the beginning!”

You nod slowly, grip tightening on your pencil. Probably, he’d never struggled with this topic. Or any other topic. You’d heard his IQ was amazing, but you appreciated the fact that he’d said he’d found trouble anyways, as it did put your heart somewhat at ease.

“So, let’s start with arithmetic sequences,” Namjoon says brightly, tugging a lion-shaped pencil case out of his bag.


The hour flies by and with consistent questioning and patient explanations from Namjoon, you’ve practically got the basics of both arithmetic and geometric sequences down pat by the end of it. With the promise of teaching you the more explicit formulas you’re bound to be needing in the next session, he waves and jogs off.

And you decide maybe it is okay for you to hang around him a little bit. And maybe it’s okay to look forward to Fridays.

More than ten Fridays come and go and you cover all the material you’d had trouble with in the beginning months of the year, and get closer to the anomaly of Kim Namjoon. You learn that he loses things often, and breaks things without meaning to; you find out his favorite color’s black and he likes to eat meat and read when he’s not busy; he used to want to be a security guard and his face gets puffy when he snacks late at night. You slowly come to see that he’s really not as perfect as everybody pegs him to be. In turn, he learns your favorite songs, the things that make you light up, what foods you would like to eat for an eternity. And everytime you smile, he gets a little greedier to see it again.

It’s the Friday after the makeup test you’d begged Mr. Bang to let you take, which consisted of the units you’d flunked in the beginning of the year. It’s the Friday after last-period maths and you’re slumped over the corner table in the library, clutching at your stomach and willing yourself to not cry or throw up or both because then you’ll have to clean up the library and deal with an angry librarian on top of failing your maths test.

You hate maths and you hate how hard it is and you hate that you got stuck on so many of the questions on the test even though you really, really tried.

“Hey! How was the test?”

You’re familiar with Kim Namjoon’s deep voice by now but it’s the last thing you want to hear. You shake your head and hope that he’ll leave you alone but of course nothing ever goes the way you hope it does and he plops down next to you concernedly.

“Hello?” he murmurs, jokingly knocking your head. “Is anyone home?”

“It was awful,” you snap, hoping that’ll be a sufficient answer to make him go away. “I messed up.”

“Don’t say that! I bet you did fine.”

“I got stuck on the first question.”

“That doesn’t mean anything. One question is just one question.”

You know he’s being nice but you want him to stop talking because he’s a straight-A student, loved by teachers, smart beyond belief and he’d have no idea what you’d be feeling like. Anger rushes through you in jarring spikes, making your blood boil underneath your skin.

Suddenly, you’re sitting up and Namjoon has to draw back quickly so his nose doesn’t get broken.

“What would you know?” Namjoon’s forehead creases at the sudden venom in your voice but now you’ve started you can’t stop, even as you regret the words as soon as they spill from your mouth. “You weren’t the one taking the test, I was. I felt how badly I did, I know how many questions I missed and how much time it took me to answer one stupid thing. I’m sure you’ve never failed a class before, right? I don’t know if you know this, but not everyone is as smart as you, and not everyone is as perfect as you.” You falter. “I’m not like you. I can’t do things right all the time. I’m not perfect.”

You expect him to be as nice as he always is, to tell you it’ll be alright, but his eyes are steely and his lips are pursed in a thin line, dimples nowhere to be found. “Okay. I get it. I’ll just leave you alone, then.”

He stands and walks away and you want to call after him and apologize but a larger part of you is still angry — at him for being perfect, and at yourself for not.

So you let him walk away.

The next Friday rolls around and you’ve gotten your test back and you’ve scored a near-perfect score. Guilt eats away at you as you slip the test into your bag and Mr. Bang tells you to keep up the good work, and you feel nauseous thinking of the words you’d thrown at Namjoon the previous week.

You hurry to the library and sit in your usual corner and glance nervously at your phone. There’s an hour to kill before Namjoon arrives. You sit and you think of an apology that’ll be enough but nothing seems to be genuine, and by the time you’ve run out of ideas, the clock on your phone reads 5:10.

Namjoon has always been on time.

Perhaps practice has run late, or he’s taking his time to walk over because he’s tired, or maybe he’s grabbing a snack before this, or…

You run out of excuses by 5:57 and Namjoon still hasn’t appeared. Gathering your untouched books, you sigh and head out of the library, walking down the stairs to the bus stops. The sun is setting and sharp against your eyes, and you have to shield them to see where you’re going.

Suddenly you squint; there’s someone jogging around the field. Tall and broad, long legs making large strides as toned arms pump at his side — it’s none other than Kim Namjoon, of course.

He’s the only one on the field and before you can overthink things you jog over to the bleachers and wait for him to complete his lap. As he nears you, he slows down, and you can see the hesitance in his features, so you place what you hope is a welcoming smile on your face.

It ends up coming off uncertain, but it seems to work because Namjoon doesn’t jog off in the opposite direction. You hold out a bottle of water you’d originally brought to give him at the library and he takes it without a word, only drinking deeply.

The silence stretches on, and you realise Namjoon doesn’t want to make the first move. Or perhaps he doesn’t know what to say.

“I waited for you,” you finally blurt. “In the library.”

He lowers the bottle. Swallows. Doesn’t meet your gaze. “Sorry. Regionals is this weekend, and the coach wanted me to practice more, since my stamina isn’t amazing. I didn’t think you’d wait an hour.”

There’s an awkward pause before you shove your hand in your bag and rummage around, fishing out your test and shoving it in his face. “I passed.”

“Oh. Good for you.” Namjoon struggles to keep his voice calm, but is that pride you hear in his voice? “I have to go — ”

“I’m sorry.”


Your hands fall limply to your side, and you stare at the floor underneath the bleachers, unable to look into his eyes. “I’m sorry for saying all of that last Friday. I didn’t mean it. You’d helped me so much preparing and I felt so awful after the test. I felt like I was a lost cause, and I was letting you down.” You take a breath to stop yourself from rambling on, finally lifting your head. “I’m sorry.”

Namjoon’s looking at the ground, hand scratching awkwardly at the back of his neck. “It’s fine. I got angry, too. I’m sorry.”

“I’m really, really sorry,” you say again, and Namjoon snorts.

“It’s fine, honestly. I was invited to a party today, so — ”

“Oh, sorry! You should go! Sorry for holding you up!”

Namjoon laughs and your heart skips a beat when you see his dimples press into his cheeks. “No, I was actually going to say: do you want to come with me?”

You blink at him, eyes wide and lips pressed together. “Me?”

Namjoon chuckles, nodding. “Yeah, you.”

“But I wasn’t invited.”

“It’s cool. I mean, random people always show up. I mean, if you don’t want to that’s okay, too!”

“I’ll come. If you don’t mind?”

“Of course I don’t. I asked you, remember?”

“Right. You did. That’s right. I’m going to stop talking now.”

Namjoon beams and you shoot back an almost smile, shifting your bag so that it rests more comfortably on your shoulder. “Let’s go? Um, I don’t drive, because my parents and my friends think I’ll wreck everything, but it’s not that far.”

You nod and follow him out of the school gates, making small talk and asking him about the coming regionals but you can’t help but feel something’s slightly stilted even as he jokes lightheartedly along with you.

You ignore the feeling, however, and arrive at the party ten minutes later with Namjoon, who shrugs off the wolf-whistles the pair of you are given with a laugh, and barely twenty minutes into the party you are sorely regretting accepting Namjoon’s invitation to come along.

Namjoon’d been pulled away by a group of girls and boys nearly the moment he’d set foot in the house, and you weren’t sure how you hadn’t seen that coming. There were people you knew from your class that you could chat with and make small talk with, but you feel extremely uncomfortable without a close friend by your side.

You shudder as you toss back a shot of who-knows-what and feel it run down your throat, running a burning course in your veins. At least there was free alcohol.

You drink until there’s a nice buzz in your veins and you feel happier than happy and walking in your platforms are proving a little difficult. You kick the shoes off to one side and whoop loudly as you skip forwards before tripping over your own bare feet and launching forwards.

You land face first into someone’s chest and strong arms wrap around you protectively.

“Has this happened before or am I now experiencing déjà vu?”

You look up slowly to see Kim Namjoon’s familiar smiling face and you giggle, alcohol weaving a fog to block out any actual mental function or process. “Namjoon-oppa!”

Namjoon immediately turns pink, eyes widening, ears reddening. You’d only ever called him ‘Namjoon-ssi’ since the day he’d met you, and he’s not sure if the sudden change in the way you address him should really make his heart speed up like that.

“You’re drunk. Or very, very, tipsy.”

You lean in closer as he rights you, lowering your voice. “Am I?”

Namjoon snorts. “That was a statement, not a question.”

“Hm, you’re just so smart, aren’t you?”

Namjoon laughs, louder this time, shaking his head. “I don’t know how your parents are with alcohol, but let’s get you some water.”

You shrug at the offer, but follow him as he leads you into the kitchen, holding your hand lightly. His steps are mildly unsteady, but you can’t walk straight either, so it doesn’t make much of a difference. His first three attempts of pouring you water from the jug are void, as people keep shoving into him, and he gives up in the end, grabbing a large glass bottle from the fridge instead and dragging you up the stairs of the house.

He shoves you gently into a bedroom and shuts the door behind you, locking it and seating you on the bed.

“Here,” he says, uncapping the bottle and passing it to you. “Drink.”

You comply happily, and tip the bottle upwards, spilling more than half the drink on your shirt. Namjoon grins, shaking his head.

“Drink properly,” he chides softly, patting the corners of your mouth with a tissue. His heart leaps into his throat as he thumbs over your bottom lip, and every part of him seems to light up as his brain screams at him to kiss you.

You pout, and place the bottle on the ground, ducking away from his hand. “I can’t!” you announce, and you sigh dramatically when you see Namjoon’s confused expression. “I can’t do anything properly!”

“That’s not true,” he says immediately, and there’s a fire in his eyes that you — or the alcohol — choose to ignore.

“It’s true,” you say, tugging Namjoon forwards to sit down beside you. “Really. I wish I could be like you, Oppa. I wish I could do things right. You’re really so perfect.”

Namjoon stiffens beside you, and he doesn’t say a word. You ramble on, senses dulled with too many drinks. “You can run, and do maths, and — and sing, and everyone likes you. I really like you, too. I think I really like you. I don’t know what love feels like. You’re smart. Tell me?”

Namjoon’s silent for another moment, and his cheeks are red though he’s barely had anything to drink himself. “I think love is when every time you see that one person, you can’t help but smile, and you just want to see them smile and be happy. And you love spending time with them, and when you’re not with them you anticipate the next meeting. When you see them, your heart starts racing and you feel like you’re about to explode. I think that’s love, probably.”

“Maybe I really, really do like you, then. Look, Oppa, feel my heart. Isn’t it racing?” Before Namjoon can say anything, you wrap your hands around his wrist and tug, pressing his palm flush against your chest.

Namjoon makes a funny noise from the back of his throat and wrenches his hand from yours. “[Name]!”

You giggle. “It doesn’t matter because I really like you, Oppa.”

He frowns sadly. “That’s just the alcohol speaking,” he murmurs, reaching out to brush hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear.

“No! No, really. You’re so perfect, you can do anything. I almost even liked math when you were tutoring me!”

Namjoon looks away, standing up. “I’m not.”


“Perfect. I’m not perfect.”

You spring up onto your knees to grab at his elbow. “But — ”

“I’m really not,” he says tiredly, and you quieten.

The alcohol’s already ran it’s course through your body and it’s settling uncomfortably in the pit of your stomach, threatening to rise up out of your throat once more. The initial bubbly excitement and joy has left as well, leaving you rather sleepy.

Namjoon sees your eyes drooping, and sighs, a smile making its way on his face without him really noticing it. He tugs you to your feet gently, and doesn’t say anything when you lean into him. “Let’s get you home.”


Halfway to your house, you begin slowing, stumbling, and your eyelids are suddenly too heavy to keep open. Namjoon stops walking abruptly, and leans forwards.

“Hop on.”


“Hop on,” he says again, gesturing to his back, and you flush when you understand his meaning.

“Oh, no, it’s okay! My house isn’t that far, really.”

“You’re about to fall asleep any second,” Namjoon teases, rolling his eyes. “Just get on.”

You fight a yawn that eventually makes its way out of your mouth anyways, and nod tinily before hopping onto his back.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m strong,” Namjoon laughs, and you let your head drop to rest on his shoulder, smiling into his shirt.

“I know.”

You arrive at your house shortly, and Namjoon waves at you through your bedroom window before grinning and jogging off.

His body heat still clings to you, an aftermath of him carrying you, and your heart races in your chest

You decide that it’s just the alcohol again, because it was the alcohol, not you, who’d said they’d really liked him, right? Just the alcohol.

The next Friday comes by and you’re dreading meeting Namjoon again, not because of last week’s party and the weird fluttery feeling you get when you think about him, but because Mr. Bang had finally told you it’d be alright for you to stop tutoring, considering your grades were now average.

You sit in your normal table in the corner of the library, and when five o’clock comes by, Namjoon jogs up to the table, hair damp, smelling of laundry detergent.


“Mr. Bang said I don’t need to be tutored anymore,” you blurted, words a little too forceful.

Namjoon blinks blankly at you for a moment, before laughing nervously. “Is this because of last week? The things you said when you were drunk?”

You pinken, but shake your head. “I’m not lying. He really said my grades were good enough now.”


He sounds disappointed, weirdly so, and your heart speeds up. You shut off any proper thinking process, and speak before you can second guess yourself, and regret it later. “The things I said last Friday —”

“Were just the alcohol?” Namjoon guesses quietly, eyes downcast.

“Were… maybe more than the alcohol? Maybe the truth?” Your voice becomes tiny, barely audible, but Namjoon picks up on it anyways.

His head rockets up so sharply, you feel as though it might snap off his neck. He stares at you, as if suspicious, before gnawing his bottom lip red, and looking away.

You flush red at the action. Of course he wouldn’t have anything to say. He has girls falling for him left and right — what would make you so amazingly special? You open your mouth to say something — it was a joke, you made a mistake, it was the alcohol after all.

“What does love feel like?”

You gape at Namjoon, scrambling for coherent thoughts, and grasp desperately at the foggy memories of his answer to the same question you’d asked a week ago. “Um, it’s when — love’s when you smile every time you see that person, and you want them to smile, too, and you always want to be by their side and spend time with them. When you’re not with them, you look forward to meeting them again, and, uh, your heart starts racing just seeing them or thinking about them.”

“And you feel like you’re going to explode.”


Namjoon makes a strangled noise and runs his hands through his hair in exasperation, mouth opening and closing as if he’s trying to speak but can’t find the words to. “You.”


“That’s how I feel around you. My heart starts racing and I feel like I’m going to explode and it’s not because I’m bad at teaching maths.”

Despite the former part of his sentence, you snort at his feeble attempt at a joke. Then you swallow, his sentence finally processing in your mind. “Really? You like me?”

“Yeah. I mean, probably.”

“Probably?” you cackle, and Namjoon blushes.

“I mean yes.”

“You, too.”


“That’s how I feel around you, too. I just think I didn’t want to, because you’re so perfect, and I’m so not.”

Namjoon looks into your eyes sadly, as if his next words are going to make you take back your confession. “I’m not perfect.”

You nod happily. “That’s good.”

“Wait, what?”

You stare at him, shaking your head in mock-disappointment. “I said that it’s good you’re not perfect. Because nobody is, right? And it’d be really weird if you were. It’d make you not human. But you do have some alien qualities so it makes sense as well.”

Namjoon cuts you off before you can prattle on. “I thought you only liked me because you thought I was perfect.”

“I mean, everyone says you are. You’re an honor-roll student, won for our track team at regionals — oh, congratulations, by the way — and you’re good looking and friendly.”

“You think I’m good looking?”

You roll your eyes. “Focus, please.”

“Right, of course, I’m sorry, ma’am.”

You laugh and punch him gently on the shoulder. “But you’re more than that, right? You like philosophy and writing lyrics and breaking everything you see —”

“That is not on purpose,” Namjoon protests.

“—and when you sleep you look as drool-faced and gross as everyone else, and that means you’re not perfect. Which is cool with me.”

Namjoon breathes out, and for the first time, it seems as if his eyes aren’t trying to hide anything anymore. “Okay. Cool.”


There’s a lull in conversation, a silence that isn’t all too uncomfortable, before Namjoon speaks quietly, ears slightly pink. “So since I’m not going to be tutoring you anymore, want to go get donuts instead?”

“Are you asking me out?”

“Are you stupid?”

“Can you be a little clearer, Mr. Kim? I’m not very good at audio comprehension!”

Bang Sihyuk, you’re annoying!” Namjoon exclaims and you practically screech with joy as he uses your math teacher’s name to curse. “[Last name] [Name], will you go out with me. On a date. Be my girlfriend.”

“That was very clear, thank you very much.” You place one fist under your chin, and furrow your brows as if thinking deeply, and Namjoon rolls his eyes. “I think my answer is… yes!”

“That’s the correct answer; congratulations, you’ve passed this class.”

Namjoon begins to lead you out of the library and you follow after him happily, your heart singing in your chest. “Oh that’s good because last time I almost flunked a class I got this really alien-like tutor and it was so weird.”

“I think he sounds kinda cool.”

“You’re wrong.”

“I’m not treating you to donuts!”

“I lied he’s actually the coolest alien ever.”

Namjoon laughs and walks just a little closer to you.

Kim Namjoon was a name everyone knew in school. Girls and boys alike wanted to date him or fuck him or both and teachers practically jumped at the opportunity to take him as their student. As a handsome, straight-A student, and the star of the track team, you (and everyone else) knew he was definitely going places in life. From what you’d heard, he was also extremely nice, humble, and probably every other adjective that described good. He was only a year older than you, too. He was perfect, except he was not, and his heart sped up for you. And that was absolutely perfect.


(Not My Gif)
Suggested by anonymous

“You look brilliant” George grinned as you walked toward him in your new dress.

“You don’t look too bad yourself” You smiled back as you looked up and down at George’s robes. Your date took your hand in his happily. You’ve both been excited for this night for a while now and it was finally here.

“Just a warning. I can’t promise I won’t step on your feet a few times love”. Georges smile suddenly became a bit nervous.

“No problem” you laughed giving him a quick peck on the cheek “I’m sure I’ll have a great time anyway”.

Just then the doors to the great hall opened revealing the beautiful ball room.

“Shall we?” George smirked and you shot him a smirk right back.

“We shall”.

imashambles  asked:

You're the best. I love when you do these. I am currently falling apart and could really use some fluff right about now. How about some comforting deanbenny cuddles? One of our boys is super sad (you can pick the reason, I'm frankly too exhausted) and won't get out of bed. The other decides to snuggle him until he smiles. In the end, the problem isn't solved, but at least he isn't facing it alone. <3

I can definitely do cuddles and I am going to keep the reason vague.

It was weird, Benny was still in bed. He had been there this morning when Dean went to work, and Dean thought it a little odd, but hell Benny deserved a day of sleeping in with how hard he worked. 

Only he was still in bed when Dean got home. “Benny?” Dean asked from the doorway.

“Fine chief, just caught a bug or something.”

“You don’t get sick. You would survive a like freak evil plague that kills 99.9% of the population.” Dean said. He turned on the light and Benny rolled over and pulled the blankets over his head. “Babe have you got out of bed at all?”

There was a pause. “I got up to piss at some point.”

“Food?” There was no response.

Dean took off everything but his boxers and crawled into the bed. “Want to talk about it?”

“Nope.” Benny replied.

“You’re all about talking about feelings.” Dean said surprised.

“Just sick Dean.” Benny answered. His voice was a little thick, maybe he did have a cold.

Dean poked his back until Benny turned over. It wasn’t a cold, there were tear tracks on his face and a letter in his hand. Dean pried Benny’s fingers open and read it quickly. “Do we need to go anywhere?” He put the letter aside.

“No, nothing to go to, I just…” Benny leaned his forehead against Dean’s. “It hurts. I feel empty.”

“Yeah I know that feeling.” Dean agreed. There were quiet while Benny cried a little more and Dean rubbed his back. 

Dean hummed a little something old and sad, it seemed to suit Benny’s mood. 

Benny pulled away a bit.

“Want me to make it better?” Dean asked.

Benny nodded.

“What would help babe?”

“Dunno, this hollow feeling, not really used to it.” Benny said. “How do you fill it up?”

“Sex or food or booze is how I used to solve all my problems.” Dean said after a minute of thinking.

“You still solve all your problems like that.” Benny answered but there was almost a smile.

“True, pie and your dick do tend to make my world view a little bit better, especially once you started soaking the apples in bourbon.” Dean thought about it and grinned. “But you know, I know a story that will help. A woman who felt exactly like you do right now and it got fixed but good.”

“Oh yeah?” Benny asked. “And how did she fix it?” He waited for Dean to have this very elaborate story with deep meaning, that or talk about a star trek episode.

“Yeah.” Dean said seriously. “There was a woman, an old woman, who I’m thinking felt hollow like you, but she found a solution.”

“What was that solution chief?” Benny asked.

“Why she swallowed a fly.” Dean said. “I mean I don’t know why she swallowed that fly, perhaps she’ll die.”

Benny stared at him in shock.

“And do you know that she swallowed a spider that wriggled inside her, she swallowed that spider to catch the fly, I don’t know why she swallowed the fly, perhaps she’ll die!”

Benny couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled up.

Dean was pleased with himself and sang the whole absurd children’s song, Benny’s laughter getting louder with each verse.

Dean kissed his nose when he was done. “Better?”

“I’m not okay.” Benny said.

“I know, but tiny itty bitty slightest big better?” Dean asked. “Like better enough to maybe shower and have some juice before hiding again?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m that sort of better.” Benny agreed.

[Alexander:] ’[…] This leads us to the conclusion that it must have been the pavement that lost physical cohesion and not the boy.’
‘Oh yeah’, muttered Ianto […] 'It’ll be that old liquid pavement problem again. The council were looking into it, I believe…’
Alexander chuckled and nodded his head towards Ianto. 'I like him. He definitely deserves his own office.’
'Is there a list?’, Gwen said. 'Somewhere I can put my name down? I’d like a pot plant, too, if the budget will strech.’
'Ooh…’, Ianto smiled. 'There’s a Venus Flytrap in the containment chamber you can have. Saves me having to feed it.’
Jack looked at Gwen. 'Careful, it eats thirty kilos of fresh meat a day. We found it in the Brecons after following up reports of missing hikers.’
'It just loves Kendall Mint Cake’, said Ianto.
[sometime later, when Ianto prepares equipment to chop off a bit of the formerly-liquid pavement:]
Gwen stared at the mallet. 'Don’t you ever ask to tap my knee with that.’
Ianto smiled. 'Good for tenderising plant food.’

The House That Jack Built (by Guy Adams)

[In which we all LOVED Ianto, disliked the whole ‘Jack’s favorite’ angle immensely and found out that p. much anything in the Brecons is out to eat human flesh, apparently. (and OF COURSE Ianto’d know all that the plant liked (let alone feed it daily & without complaint in the first place))]

Don’t you just love how every article about the problems with The 100 revolves around L/xa and never mention any of the myriad and valid complaints that POC have had for the past 3 seasons (as opposed to just one Season)?

But I guess I can’t be too upset because this is typical of life. POC are ignored unless and until their complaints can better serve another minority group (be that LGBTQA, women or even disabled people). 

I’m trying to stay positive but this smile is feeling rather forced :)

anonymous asked:

i'm not sure if you do emergency asks,but i'm suffering from depression & lately it's bad again (not eating,having a hard time getting up and having negative/suicidal thoughts) - could you maybe do sth with ace and sabo cheering someone like that up?

I feel so sorry for you dear, of course I can whip something up, no problem ♥


  • He feels so sorry for whoever has this problems
  • I’m pretty sure seeing someone in such a condition would make him open up about his own insecurities
  • He’d urge them to eat and might get a little too pushy with that
  • Ace is a little childish so whatever problems they have he’d try to have fun and make them laugh, with tickling, jokes or anything else that could possibly make them smile
  • He’s so hellbent not screwing up anything by accident tho, so he’d be very very patient and very understanding


  • He’s a lot like Ace in this, he’d feel pretty sorry and worried too
  • But also uncomfortable, because he doesn’t want to screw anything up either or make them feel bad so that their condition worsens
  • Sabo would offer an ear to them and talk to them about their problems
  • He’d be super understanding and kind and patient
  • His goal in comorting somebody like that, is not necessarily make them laugh but make them feel better
  • So yeah he’d offer fun activities and everything to make them feel better a bit

anonymous asked:

I was taking an order from a customer and didn't catch something, so I asked her to repeat herself. "Your [store's] music is too loud, that's why you can't hear me," she said. I smiled. I have clinically moderate bilateral hearing loss and wear hearing aids. But sure, it was the music.

I hate when customers are so inconsiderate of our own personal problems and only care about themselves

continued from here

Seeing the older woman in one of her favorite shirts, clearly a few sizes too big while nonchalantly sipping her coffee was the sight Zarya was greeted by when entering the kitchen. When questioned on the matter, Angela’s reply was quite playful and the larger woman decide to let her have her fun. As she headed to the counter to pour herself some coffee, Zarya glanced back at Angela with a smile, cheeks a bit pink.

“No problem. It is a good look for you.”

channynipa  asked:

Hi!~<3 A ship with NCT & iKON,pls? I'm 5'7,ENFJ,the eldest of four,making me reliable & a good leader.Very caring,affectionate,kind,strong both physically & mentally,very competitive & fearless.I'm a good listener so as a good adviser.I love sharing my love w/my fam & people I care.I LIKE flowers,animals & LOVE cuddling,skinship,amusement park & advanturous things.I hate heat & worst w/directions.I'm always there for my siblings.Smile's always on my face & I hope everyone can smile,too.Thx u :)

Hello there! Sure thing! 

In NCT I ship you with… 


Originally posted by doyuong

This fearless leader is the best match for you in NCT! He is definitely giving his own attention like you to focus on what your saying. You two can easily discuss about the roles of leadership and just complain about the problems about it. When he sees you sharing and giving love to your family, Taeyong can’t help but melt for your sweet heart. Cuddling and skinship will be done and adventuring will definitely be something you two would be doing all the time. He’d love your smile but would focus on directions so the two of you won’t get lost. 

In iKON, I ship you with… 


Originally posted by teambgasm

His leadership to the group *though he’s not the leader* helps with iKON soooo much and plays the motherly role in the group. The fact that you are the oldest with your siblings would be understanding towards Jinhwan, the oldest in iKON. Jinhwan loooooves skinship so he is on board with you! Amusement park dates are something he would love to do and adventuring off with you would be something he’d also love even more, being able to spend time with you. :D

Life seems a bit dull and hard at times? Laugh a little bit! It may not solve any problem, but it will definitely make you mentally strong to handle all those harsh realities with less stress and with more beautiful power of laughter. Laughter can make everything seem a bit easier and make it light to carry on your shoulders. Keep smiling and make others smile, whenever you can. Being able to laugh at simple things and making others laugh are some of the blessings that most of us don’t possess much these days.
Being able to take everything not too deeply is the main key to happiness. And if this trait is accompanied by the funny mood or personality it becomes a bumper package which can give you a healthy life later. People who are extrovert, funny, jolly, and humorous tend to have greater views about life and people in their lives. Happy people are the best people you will ever get to know! These people are believed to have purer mind and broad soul that they use to keep others around them happy as they are.
Don’t you think happy people are becoming so rare that they need to be “saved” on an emergency basis or the day is so close that after few years they will be seen in museums! If thought from spiritual perspective, these happy people circulates a positive vibe that automatically makes the surrounded people feels good and lively, at least as long as they are with that happy person.
Making the work environment happy, jolly and lively is really important for the corporate world. Not only happy person is important to ensure a happy environment when they are around, it is also important to make such a boring place such as work place into an effective and efficient one but more in a motivating and smooth for the other workers. It is scientifically proved that when there is a positive, happy and sometimes hilarious environment exist in a office structure, employee tend to work better and try to increase the quality of their performance simultaneously. A different study shows that, a jolly organization environment creates great new ideas while reducing the work error to the minimum. Having a humorous personality as a CEO or manager of the company can motivate your employees and subordinates the best and create a healthy working ground where everyone feels free to share their thoughts and ideas which accelerates the quality of the output eventually.
Except for the corporate environment, a happy and jolly person is always preferred as a good company who keeps everyone smiling all the time they are around. These people just make the surrounding happy healthy that everyone feels alive a bit even if they don’t even want to smile. Humor is a great gift of the creator and certainly everyone is not blessed with this gift. There are only some happy faces you see that makes your mind refreshed whenever you see them. Grumpy faces are just too serious to be relaxed around them.
Recently a study has found that the more humorous the people are, the higher their IQ. Yes! Humorous people have higher intelligence than the average people and they find solutions faster than the others. There are some other positive personality traits those are highly involved with the humorous mind. The people who have higher sensitivity of humor are the ones who mix with people fast and have the ability to adjust with new environment and situations. They are some sort of common friends to all though they have a very selective person who they can call “close” ones.

this year the school system is different in Norway (most schools) so i have to get this out there because it WILL affect how i rp and so on

so, when you don’t show up to classes or school in general, you get a mark that you haven’t been there. before, that didn’t bother anyone unless you were missing half a year+ no problems in general

but now there a maximum of how long you can be gone without reason and they need proof of it too. for example, if you’ve been sick a day, then you need to get to a doctor and get them to sign a paper or some shit, show it to your teacher so the mark will be removed. some things are excused, but you’ll need proof of each and every small thing or else it’ll be written down

now, here’s the FUN part of it: if you DON’T, and you miss just 10% of a subject (that’s one/two classes in a subject), you FAIL THAT CLASS. you won’t get a grade at all and you’re fucked. 

the teachers say it may change within the year, but i’m honestly devastated?? it costs a shit ton to go to a doctor, and only to have them sign a paper. i have mental issues and sometimes i need to stay at home. it just increases my stress of coming to school and stress in general i just.. wtf

anonymous asked:

You & I are amazing friends but I'm still going on anon to do this because it's more special. I just want to you know how amazing you are. You're a kind, considerate and loving person. You express happiness and pleasantries across people's dashboard's; fandom's are lucky to have you as a part of them. You deserve all the best and brightest things, not only from Tumblr but from life too. Remember to smile today because no doubt you've already made other's smile too.


{{ Humina humina humina? DON’T DO THIS TO ME – !!

W-Well I did smile and have someone smile today. S-So that’s a thing. I just wanna try hard to be positive, since I know so many of you high-key AMAZING people have your own problems, and all I can do is just HOPE I lighten the load a bit. I-I-I don’t know a-about fandoms bein’ lucky to have me, though. Oh dearie me!

Uuuuuuuhhhhhhmmmm I dunno what to say about this oh gosh!! The room just got ten degrees hotter and the air conditioner’s fan is RIGHT ON ME – }}

olden-wolf  asked:

Psst!~ Just wanted to say how much youve improved art wise, and how much of a lovely person you are. Whenever you appear on my dash it always brings a smile on my face, and I hope whatever you went though a while ago is sorted man. You don't deserve any hatred or sadness in your life. You are so amazing, talented and such a wonderful person. Carry on making people like me and smile <3

Ahh! lkadfjklsdjfkasdf! thank you so much! this made my day to read! :D Im really happy that i can bring smiles to everyone and to you too! (thats all i ever love to do!) :D also, yeah my problems have been somewhat sorted out. Im more open about my sexuality and gender with my brother, but obviously ive acknowledged that he’ll never accept my as a man, so ive kind of come to terms with that for now. 9_9" also thank you for being so nice to me! and i hope that i can do another request for ya! (you and your character are such sweeties!) :)

Originally posted by 49owlslane

Picture source: @dannnijay

“Hi! Can I get a private selca ship with Monsta X, B.A.P, Seventeen and 2 KHH artists please? Thank you so much sweetie! ^-^ Have a wonderful day/night!”

it’s no problem :D hope you have a great day/night too <3 by the way your smile is beautiful ^-^

submitted by @oppaships


In Monsta X, I ship you with:

Originally posted by xioozi

In B.A.P, I ship you with:

Originally posted by kitty-jongup

In Seventeen, I ship you with:
S.Coups or Wonwoo! (I couldn’t decide  (⁄ ⁄>⁄ ▽ ⁄<⁄ ⁄) )

Originally posted by eatmark

Originally posted by fyjeonwonwoo


I ship you with:

Originally posted by jn2k

Iron ^-^

Originally posted by onenightinseoul

I hope this was okay for you ^-^ <3

morganbritton132  asked:

"Papa!" "...Alfie, you're hugging your uncle."

Alfie looked up at Rafael and squinted at him. “Oh.. Sorry, Uncle Rafi.

“No problem, Alf,” he smiled, then smirked at Frederick as he came in the door next.

Frederick was about to sneer back when Alfie hugged him close. “Papa, will you watch Star Trek with us? Uncle Rafi can, too, even though he can’t tell Chekov and Scotty apart.”

“Of course, Alf.”

//Thinking of doing a bit of a overhaul on Makie’s personality. The event has caused her to realize she was reliant on the powers she hated.

Makie is meant to be the passionate yet challenge loving type, yet I rp’ed her as too meek and cautious. Even without her powers she should still be a problem child with good intentions. She is now accepting her nature instead of fighting it. As such please bare with me as this suffering yet smiling child comes to terms with herself as I try and make her more sarcastic yet loving at the same time

Realizing her own hypocrisy in the recent event, Makie has begun to try an self train herself, so you can often find her outside and in a library! If anyone wants to rp with Makie give me a message or like this! Citta folks only please.