#at least the semester is almost over?? and from what i hear profs are much more lenient grading with grad level classes bc it looks bad

[nellectronic]

10 minutes of walking through the cold and intermittent sludge for what’s probably going to be a 15 minute meeting followed by another 10 minutes of walking through the cold and intermittent sludge back home. i hate my job

[one-way-dream]

Nights of Future Past (One-Shot)

Rating: Teen+

Words: 8100+

Media: Danganronpa, Super Danganronpa 2,

Characters/Pairings: Hajime Hinata/Nagito Komaeda, Hajime Hinata, Nagito Komaeda, Makoto Naegi

Tags: Post-Island Mode, Hurt/Comfort, Complicated Feelings, Mutual Pining, Reminiscing, First Kiss, Internal Conflict, Light Angst, Depression

Warnings: Suicidal Ideation

Chapter: 1/1

Link to the original work

AO3 Summary/Except:

Things aren't the same after waking up from the Neo World Program, even after their rehabilitation. The truth weighs on them both heavily, and Hajime finds out firsthand just how deep the trenches run.

--

Hajime walks into Nagito's home finds him passed out on the ground. (Based on artwork)

Author's Notes:

only losers write speedrun-write entire fics at 6am for fun without their glasses (and wondering why the screen looks blurry) while waiting for their prof to show up to their group presentation for an Entire Hour only for the prof to not show up at all and all the group members leave without having a goddamn clue on what to do. its me im losers.

i wrote this fic two semesters ago and decided to polish it up a little (<- skimmed over it) because i didn’t like it very much and still don't but said ‘eh fuck it we ball’ and am publishing it now before i forget it exists. which has happened a few times.

Hajime hears the rustling of papers before he sees him, but that doesn’t keep the headache from creeping into his mind.

Although he shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t feel that way about seeing Makoto, especially with all that the man has done for him, regardless of Hajime’s… personal bitterness. But more often than not, the latter would only be sent over to give Hajime some “additional tasks” on Byakuya’s word.

Because of course it was Byakuya working them all like dogs, and of course Makoto was kind enough to trust in his judgement wholeheartedly.

A long sigh escapes him before he finally lifts his head to peer over the cubicle wall, not bothering to hide when Makoto already had his desk number memorized, as he looks for the familiar strands of light brown hair navigating through the office partitions. The sight of them inching and bobbing closer with each step almost reminds him of a shark, and truthfully, he’d laugh a little at the thought if there weren’t fumes coming out of his ears from exhaustion.

And eventually, the rustling gets louder.

Alright, deep breaths, Hajime reminds himself. There’s only a few more hours in the workday anyway, so the task would either have to be a short one or one he’d take care of first thing in the morning.

Poor Makoto generally didn’t have the heart to ask Hajime to work overtime; no, for those cases, Byakuya played his cards straight and asked Kyouko to be the messenger instead. Iron gaze and icy tone for every last soul she came across except Makoto, Byakuya, and the other survivors – she was one of the few members of the Future Foundation that both captivated and genuinely frightened Hajime by her presence alone, and Togami Byakuya knew exactly how effective she was at ‘convincing’ people.

Then again, Hajime could say the same for a lot of the girls in his class. Charming, but absolutely goddamn terrifying.

“Ah, Hinata-kun! I’m so glad you’re still here.” Makoto’s frame popped in from around the corner of his cubicle, balancing a stack of worn-out folders and fighting to keep them from slipping out of his arms. The shorter man beamed at Hajime despite the struggle, and the latter reciprocated because despite the dread pinching at him for an additional workload, he at least liked Makoto as a person. Mostly.

A loose folder finally won against his efforts, the contents spilling all over the dusty carpet in sheets of white and finely printed black ink. Makoto froze, as if he wasn’t expecting the outcome before his shoulders slumped in defeat. He let out a groan that sounded more like a childish whine.

Meanwhile, Hajime had to bite his tongue to not chuckle at his comical misery, and instead started wordlessly picking up the sheets during Makoto’s moment of frustration, making the other snap out of his state and scramble to the floor to help with his one free hand.

“Oh, you really don’t have to do that,” He frantically picked at the few documents that remained scattered, sighing quietly when five fluttered right out of his hands like a cruel magic trick and onto the floor again, "But thank you so much.” Makoto’s face pulled into an embarrassed smile, cheeks a little tinted as he chanced a glance at the other to gauge his reaction, “I’m sorry for making such a mess…”

Hajime looked up and gave him a small and polite smile. “Don’t worry about it, you were carrying a lot anyway. Just leave the folders on my desk for now so you can rest your arms at least.”

Makoto nodded, getting back on his feet quickly and carefully stepping over the spilled documents while ensuring nothing else would fall from his arms and burden Hajime. The stack came down on his desk with a heavy thump, huffing out the distinct smell of brand-new printer paper, making Makoto cringe at how the force of it flung a paperclip off the edge of Hajime's desk. He quickly pounced to catch it before spinning around to help with the last of the papers, only to find Hajime already standing with all the papers neatly tucked into the binder, running a hand through his messy brown hair to tame it a little.

“Jeez… sorry about that. Thanks a lot, Hinata-kun.” His shame grew a little more, the red flush crawling up to the tips of his ears as he shyly rubbed his neck, unable to meet the other’s eyes, “I guess I’m just a little unlucky today!”

Hajime’s breath caught in his throat at the last word; an uncomfortable feeling prickling under the collar of his white dress shirt. Suddenly, it was his turn to vehemently avoid eye contact with Makoto.

“Speaking of luck, that’s actually who I wanted to talk to you about!”

Shit.

Hajime wondered if it was too late to pretend that he didn’t hear that – maybe make an excuse to go to the washroom or wiggle out from under his office cubicle like some hyperactive preschooler. Given that his desk was all the way at the back of the fifth floor and near the fire escape, there wasn’t really any way he could inconspicuously slip out and—

And Makoto’s lips were already starting to move again.

“The thing is, that. Um. Komaeda-kun left pretty early today.” Makoto had a look of concern plastered all over his face, but Hajime only looked on, feeling himself unintentionally boring holes into the other with his gaze, “And, well, it’s not like he’s slacking off or anything, because he did finish all his assigned work before leaving, but…”  

“But what?” Hajime tried and failed to leave the irritation out of his voice, feeling a prick of guilt when Makoto’s frame flinched at his tone. He really should show some restraint with the person he considered his boss. After all, it wasn’t like there was anyone else that’d willingly employ a war criminal who helped cause the apocalypse, let alone be kind to them.

“I’m just— I’m just a bit worried about him.” Makoto thoughtfully crossed his arms and leaned against his desk carefully, trying not to put his full body weight on it, although Hajime doubted he weighed enough to even make it creak, “I’m not worried about him slipping into despair again or anything, but it feels like he’s… deteriorating a little? Sometimes I catch him falling asleep at his desk or staring out a window without realizing that I’m there, but that's pretty rare for someone as diligent as him.” His eyebrows furrowed, a rare frown on his expression as he looked away from Hajime, opting for an empty cubicle like it was the most interesting thing in the room.

So, while the irritation drained from him, a knot formed in his stomach at the other’s words instead.

“I’m not asking you to check up on him or anything, Hinata-kun, but I was wondering if you knew what was wrong.” Makoto’s right hand nervously fidgeted with the tip of his black and grey striped tie as he forced himself to make eye contact again, as Hajime smothered the unfamiliar voice picking at the back of his skull droning about how distastefully boring the young man looked. Said man finally met his eyes with an unfamiliar intensity; green on green and red. “After all, you are his partner, aren’t you?”

Hajime swallowed thickly under Makoto’s near-pleading gaze.

It was true that they were partners during field work and even office work a lot of the time, mostly due to the fact that by some miracle, they worked really damn well together. They complemented each other.

The nature of their actual relationship, however, was a whole different case.

Half the time Hajime couldn’t tell what was going on in his head – hell, half the time Hajime was convinced that even during field work, Nagito wouldn’t hesitate to make things more ‘interesting’ if their goals didn’t exactly align. Even at the cost of his own safety, and as a result, their safety – because Hajime wasn’t going to leave ‘trash like him to stew and rot in compost for extra fertilizer’ like he insisted sometimes, even if Hajime did get snappy enough to consider it.

The only reason they hadn’t run into any issues was purely in-thanks to their obligations to the Future Foundation and their strict mission guidelines and procedures.

Nothing more, and nothing less.

So no, he couldn’t meet Makoto’s gaze with confidence. Only a pitiful expression plastered on his face that felt more like an excuse rather than an actual apology. If he’d been partnered up with someone who didn’t hate his guts, maybe he’d have an answer for the other man.

But something changed between him and Nagito ever since they woke up from the rehabilitation program, and Hajime didn’t have the answers for it.

“I’m… sorry, Naegi. I really don’t know what’s up with him.” His hands clenched into fists in his coat pocket, feeling his exhaustion slowly catch up to him. Makoto let out a small, resigned sigh but gathered himself much better than Hajime could give him credit for.

He watched with a mix of surprise and amusement as the shorter man reached his arm upwards to awkwardly pat Hajime’s left shoulder, which should have been a comforting gesture, but Makoto picked up on the embarrassment at their height difference quick enough to retract his arm and slip into a casual demeanor. Very smooth. But, well, it wasn’t like Hajime didn’t embarrass himself half the time.

“It’s alright. I just wanted to ask you just in case,” he carefully looked at Hajime, words a little slow, maybe a little deliberate, as he tried to study his expression for the slightest spark of recognition. “That’s all I really wanted to ask.”

Makoto let a small smile play on his face instead, stepping away from the other to pry the rest of the folders off of Hajime’s semi-cluttered desk. His eyes briefly scanned over it, guiltily taking in all the stacks of paperwork and decorations that littered the desk in a way that was oddly pleasing and organized at a second glance. He’d always known that Hajime was a hard worker; it always showed in his work habits and in the way he’d stay just a little longer to finish up against Makoto’s well wishes for rest, but he’d never quite noticed just how… popular he was.

If it were anyone else, all those gifts might be considered a safety hazard, but Makoto trusted Hajime enough to be responsible with his desk decorations. From small handmade trinkets to miniature plushies, it was clear that they were all bits and pieces of a beloved person; someone who everyone trusted and thought of fondly – and Makoto truly couldn’t ask for more.

His eyes drifted and landed on what looked like a handmade wooden carving in the shape of a small clover painted emerald-green, tacked onto the cubicle wall, and tucked away between a miniature mech and his monitor – obscured as if it were for his eyes only, like he didn’t want others to know it existed, and it would’ve been the case if Makoto hadn’t leaned over the way he did. A small grin came up on his face before he could help it, thinking that maybe those two would be just fine after all.

Just as his classmates trusted him, he would also place his trust in Hajime to do the right thing for his partner, even if he’d be scolded for his naivety.

But really, he mused, that “naivety” could also be considered hope.

“Guess I’m off for the day then, goodnight! Oh, and… I’ll let Byakuya-kun know that you left early because you were feeling sick.” Makoto winked at the other, clutching the papers closer to his chest as he scurried away before Hajime’s confusion could wear off.

A sigh left Makoto like a silent prayer, with only a whisper under his breath.

“Hang in there, Hinata-kun.”  

-x-

His relationship with Nagito was… special, to say the least.

If it wasn’t his condescending words and a cold shoulder behind a plastic smile, it was them butting heads over trivial nonsense.

Thoughts about the lucky man often stirred in Hajime’s mind, winding around his brain like a steel wire and often pulling with a jerk sharp enough to cut when he least expected it. He could pinpoint a few reasons why it hurt him to think about the current state of their relationship but kicking those thoughts under the rug had always been the easier option. It had always been the less infuriatingly frustrating one.

He didn’t need the extra headache of someone like him tampering with his brain. Picking him apart and laying him bare for all he was worth – or rather, what he wasn’t worth. Especially not when Hajime had already learned the truth about how he let others tear him apart for the sake of artificial talent.

It was… still hard to digest.

But he would come to live with it. That’s what he decided.

Because if he doesn't— if Hajime Hinata doesn't come to terms with his choices, he doesn't know how he'll be able to live with himself. And… he has to live. He has to because Makoto and the others fought for them. He has to live, no matter how he really feels, right? There's no real death wish behind his teeth, unless disappearing under mysterious circumstances counts, but living feels like—

…Well, his feelings on the matter just aren't relevant anymore. Not when he has a debt to repay.

A dreary and boring life after giving up his body to escape a very similar kind of dreary and boring life. Except now he had a significantly higher price to pay; one that he’d do anything to give up for those few days of rehabilitation in the program.

It was rather telling that he hadn’t changed when it came to how easy it still was to ‘give up’ parts of his life. But when Hajime really thought about it, it was clear what was truly worth sacrificing. Maybe it was cowardice, or maybe he just longed to feel the nurturing warmth of the sun on his skin again.

His gaze drifted up to the reddened sky as soon as he stepped out of the building – the colour ebbing away into a violet hue with each passing month filled Hajime with a strange sense of hope despite everything; like it was an anchor on reality and fact that time wasn’t just stagnant, even if it felt like it. Everything was changing, for better or for worse.

Hajime pulled his mask up to the bridge of his nose, clutching the leather strap of his shoulder bag a little closer to his body as he started through the city, sidestepping the stray rubble, and keeping a firm foot on the uneven dirt path.

The city was still in shambles; there was no other way of putting it. Broken walls, shattered glass, metal shrapnel and grotesque decay strewn over every ruined inch of the city. Piles of bodies used to replace the flower beds at the side of the road, but the Future Foundation had made it a priority to deal with them first – both out of respect for their families and for the health of everyone still alive.

Identifying the bodies and matching them to names on the registry had been one of the first jobs Hajime and Nagito were assigned aside from their usual patrol, and he could safely say that he never wanted to be assigned to such a task ever again. Nothing had been as difficult as matching bodies to names, and names to whatever remained of their grief-stricken families.

His focus went back on the path ahead of him, the route to his new residence became something his body could follow on autopilot while mangled structures caught in his peripheral vision. Buildings that once housed entire families and warm bodies had the life forcefully ripped out of them, now merely empty rooms and corridors littered with nothing but filth and frags and debris – the aftermath of devastation at the hands of despair.

The feeling of guilt and loss settled back in his throat like acid, humorously thinking about how perhaps the chemicals resting on Tsumiki’s workbench that he’d catch himself pensively staring at far too long would feel similar on his esophagus, but he’d push those feelings down like always. It was hard to trust himself nowadays, and it was even harder not to let Nagito’s scorn and backhanded insults get to him; between the push and pull of trying to believe in himself and knowing that things would never go back to the way they were, there was no way he’d feel anything but exhausted.

The thought that he’d be significantly worse, or rather dead, without the program terrified him – but being plunged into a world drenched in darkness that they were responsible for without warning was nothing short of suffocating anyway.  

Hajime tugged down on his mask to take a deep breath, instantly regretting it when the smog-filled air struck his lungs and had him doubling over in a coughing fit. With tears prickling at his eyes, he could just barely make out the outline of his apartment building just around the corner, picking up his pace a little despite there being no pressure besides the ache in his chest – something other than the smoke lingering in his lungs.  

He was heading home. He should head home; he should head straight to the fifth floor of their residential building without thinking twice about the fourth.

The sound of leather shoes clicked against the glazed ceramic tiles as he stepped into the barren but clean lobby, the residential building being one of the few places actively maintained, as he quickly ripped off his face mask to let clean air soothe him in shaky breaths. Hajime had forgotten how hard it was to breathe the polluted air if you weren’t adjusted for it. After a whole day in a moderately clean and controlled office building, his body didn’t take kindly to sudden changes.

Or maybe those were all just excuses, and maybe breathing in that foul air brought back memories of despair he would rather not have resurfaced. Memories of days past that he would never long for.

Hajime stepped into the elevator and jabbed at ‘four’ without thinking too hard about it.

-x-

The last time he checked, the wristwatch on Hajime’s right hand read twelve ‘o’ clock, and he knew for a fact that Nagito was neither a heavy sleeper nor an early one.

So why was it taking so damn long for the door to open?

He knew that this feeling wasn’t worry, not in the way that it once would’ve been, but he’d be damned before he let the other weigh him down and get in his way when it came to work. Checking up on him would at least calm down the frustration prickling within him; it’d clear things up for Makoto’s sake – after all, he was the one who insinuated that he should check up on Nagito, wasn’t he?

Hajime felt the annoyance bubble within him before the nervousness kicked in, raising his hand to knock a little harder for the sixth time in a row, because he was nothing if not persistent. It isn’t until a silver glint catches his attention from the corner of his eye that he stops in his tracks, suddenly remembering about the spare key under the doormat. It isn’t particularly inconspicuous, but Hajime still remembers it anyway from the night he had to carry the other home, drunk out of his mind.

Sometimes his mind wanders back to that day, but he doesn’t think about the way Nagito didn’t take his eyes off of him for most of the night. He doesn’t think about the way it made his heart stutter and chest burn to have his face so close, warm breath lingering by his ear for not-so-secret whispers – not when things went right back to how they used to be the next morning. A thin deceiving smile and verbal kicks below his belt that were better than Nagito’s usual lashes, but they were kicks, nonetheless.

The corner of the tacky-looking entrance mat is lifted to expose the house key – clean and free of dirt despite being under a mat, but it was typical of the other man to clean each and every corner spotless. It was one of the few things that hadn’t changed since the Neo World Program, as vague but warm memories of Nagito’s cottage filled his head, the smell of fresh linen and household cleaning products still sticking to his mind. The memory of childishly rolling around in Nagito’s bed while they chatted between chores also lingers, although he'd rather it didn't.

He turns the key over in his palm and slides it into the keyhole, feeling his pulse thrum harder in his skull than anywhere else as the key twists.

But the key turned without a click; the door was already unlocked.

Hajime sucks in a sharp breath. Something was amiss, and he couldn’t stand the way it felt.

His left hand reached for the cold metal of the door handle, carefully swinging it open as he steeled himself.

And almost immediately, Hajime was hit with the overwhelming scent of stale citrus as his eyes adjusted to the darkness of Nagito’s living room. He could just barely make out shapes on the ground before him, the light from the hallway pouring in around his cast shadow. It wasn’t until his senses fully adjusted that he saw the state of the room, a sharp breath inhaled through his teeth from the shock of it.  

“What… the hell...?”

Nagito’s passed out body laying before him, on his side and unmoving on the wooden floor of his living room – around him were familiar looking yellow and blue striped drink cans; some stacked, others crumpled or dented, and a single tipped-over can by the leg of the chabudai, a translucent blue liquid spilled out of it in a small but sticky looking dried puddle.

Nothing in this room apart from the half empty bookshelf and the person sprawled out on the ground in front of him was reminiscent of the Nagito he once knew. A peculiar but kind person, who did strange things and spoke of even stranger ideas, but his presence was always warm and comforting. It was always one that was interesting, one that was welcome, one that he would willingly seek out even.

But now the potted plants that he would’ve nurtured with the utmost care back in the program stood by the windowsill withered and dry, gathering dust in the hazy florid moonlight. The books he wouldn’t keep out for more than a day on his desk were strewn carelessly across every surface besides his unmade bed with fitted sheets unraveled.

He always knew that things would never be the same, but now he was certain that the difference ran deeper than he’d imagined. Or perhaps he never really knew the boy to begin with.

With caution lining his every action, he stepped into the room as the uninvited guest he knew he’d always be.

“I… really didn’t take you for the sort to be messy,” Hajime’s face pulled into a frown as he felt himself finally exhale with those words, taking in the room one last time with something like concern settling deep in the back of his mind. He pushed further into the apartment, stepping over empty cans and littered stray work documents until his feet stood mere inches from the other’s head. Perhaps it’s a bit of a personal space violation, but somehow Hajime didn’t think that’d be the other’s first concern. At most he’d probably just be annoying enough to scold him for being rude and not leaving his shoes by the entryway.

“Komaeda, come on. Get off the floor already,” He spoke while looking down at the man in nothing but work pants and a thin loose tee-shirt, Hajime’s own tired and low voice the only sound in the apartment besides the steady hum of the old air conditioner, “Wake up.”

A few seconds passed painfully still. Nothing.

That was… unusual.

“…Komaeda?”

He waits a minute, and then another, before he calls his name again. And then again. Hajime crouches down to the floor, hand reaching out to shake the other’s bare arm, even though he wasn’t a heavy sleeper.

The second his left hand meets flesh he has to fight back the shiver that courses through him in a way he’d never felt before, panic violently striking his chest in its place and knocking the air out of it for a moment because when his left hand meets flesh it’s cold – it’s not supposed to be this cold. Breathing doesn’t feel as easy as it did moments ago when his heart started pounding in his ears. Irrational thoughts fill his head like someone just opened the floodgates. He didn’t even think he could hear the other’s voice in this state with how loud his pulse was.

“K-Komaeda?” He doesn’t bother to hide the overwhelming anxiety creeping into his voice when he jostles the other’s arm, shaking his limp body with it, inching closer to him on his knees, “H-hey… wake up…”

He knows Nagito’s body is cold, but he’s never this cold. He knows that he’s not a heavy sleeper. He knows these things for a fact.

If nothing else, even if whatever had been between them was nothing more than a pleasant daydream that only Hajime begrudgingly held dear between the two of them, he hadn’t forgotten the night they laid side by side on the beach so they could watch the sunset and sunrise together; he hadn’t forgotten the way they’d barely touched yet he could still feel some warmth from the boy next to him. Or that the sound of seagulls squawking overhead were enough to make him bolt upright just as his consciousness started to drift, sudden enough to make them both stare at each other before doubling over in laughter in realization—

“Komaeda—” He cries, outright cries his name when the memory makes his heart ache unbearably.

The fear claws up higher in his chest until it takes hold of his windpipe; he can’t see the mess of white hair as clearly anymore when his vision begins to blur.

Please.

Please, please, please—

Hajime barely registers the feeling of muscle tensing under his grip, but it’s enough to shock him still.

“…Mrmph…?”

For those few moments, he could barely breathe, second guessing himself with every passing moment whether he’d imagined the muffled sound.

All he can do is stare at the form in front of him, slowly but surely unfurling from his position, an arm leisurely splayed out behind him before the rest of him follows by the turn of his hip. When his back touches the cold floor, Hajime even picks up on the way Nagito recoils at the contact. And slowly but surely, as the panic drained from Hajime’s body and got replaced with the burn of embarrassment, Nagito’s eyes fluttered open.

Grey-green met his own eyes with a lopsided and lazy grin, but it was one that was practiced, it was one that wasn’t quite authentic. Nothing was out of place for the other, as usual – and it was only Hajime that ever felt an ocean’s worth of difference between them. His throat suddenly feels far too dry, and the tears that threatened to spill were growing colder on his lower lashes with every passing moment.

“Oh… Hinata-kun, good morning!” Words slurred together but remained light and chipper, as if nothing were amiss; like Hajime hadn’t just been bordering on a breakdown and like whatever the hell was going on in this room wasn’t really happening, “May I ask why you are in my room?”

And Hajime hates the overwhelming feeling of relief that floods through his body, despite seeing how nonchalant he is. He hates how he can never be honest about it with the other without feeling like he’d get ridiculed or dismissed – not anymore at least. It’d be easier to wordlessly blink the mistiness out of his eyes before the other could catch him, but at the sight of the other’s widened eyes, Hajime could tell that he already knew.

“…Hinata-kun?” Nagito lifted his head off the hardwood a few inches without moving the rest of his body to see better, almost disbelieving, before his eyes narrowed again in recognition. Hajime looked away in irritation, face burning like he was being made fun of without a single word being said, “Hahah… were you really that concerned over little old me that you started tearing up?”

God, unintentional or not, the arrogance in his voice really pissed him off.

“Shut up,” He hissed, the aftershocks of his cooling panic making him even more flustered. He wants to blame the smell of citrus for overloading his senses, for making his eyes burn and water. He doesn’t have an explanation for his incessant heart rate besides shame and something else, but the other didn’t need to know that. “Y-you were passed out like you were practically in a coma.”

“Ah… haha… that’s a little like… ‘Koma’, right…?” He melted against him, forehead pressed against Hajime’s knees as his head settled back on the floor with a soft thump, giggling deliriously like it was the funniest joke he’d heard all week; and given their pathetically average daily life, it might as well have been.

But that didn’t mean he had to dignify that with a response, merely narrowing his eyes at the man who was already silent again, staring back up at him with fox-like eyes drowsy with sleep and the curve of a sly smile on his face.

“I came here to check up on you. I would’ve waited for you outside, but you weren’t answering the door.”

“Oh?” The smile grows wider as he drawls out the word, like he’s baiting the other into a trap door, “And was there a special reason for checking up on me all of a sudden? I thought the Ultimate Despai— I mean, the Ultimate Hope, — would be busier than checking up on someone like me.”

Those words don’t sting anymore; and he doesn’t know if he should be grateful or not. For a moment, Hajime contemplates telling the truth, maybe speaking his mind for once, or rather his heart. That it wasn’t just Makoto who noticed how differently he was behaving, and he wanted to know why, but even he wasn’t sure he could trust something as fragile as vulnerability.

He can’t find it in himself to bother with something like that.

“Naegi sent me.”

And Hajime doesn’t catch the way Nagito’s smile falters for half a second, but he does see it strained moments later – lips pressed into a thin line, and it’s no better than plastic when he whispers, “I see…”

A few moments of silence passed before they realized that none of this was going anywhere, that the floor was very cold and very hard and very uncomfortable, and Komaeda Nagito would make absolutely no move to extricate himself from it anytime soon in his sluggish state.

Hajime huffed, shrugging his work jacket off his shoulders, before throwing it on Nagito’s body carelessly. He quietly relishes the jolt and muffled yelp when the jacket collar smacks him across the face, taking relief in the fact that the man couldn’t see the satisfied grin he wore.

Bringing himself lower and looping his arms under the other’s frame, he carefully pried the other’s body off the floor with ease and pulled him closer to his chest, getting another small noise of surprise but none of the resistance he expected. He was practically putty in his arms, and he tried not to think about how cold Nagito’s body still felt, or how irritated he felt at his lack of care.  

“Why are you like this?” Hajime huffed, ignoring the other’s squirms either in an attempt to get comfortable or break free, “What happened to you, anyway?” And why are you so damn cold?

The other’s head tilts curiously, and he must’ve read the brunette’s mind when his next words were, “If my body bothers Hinata-kun that much, maybe he should warm me up?”

His heart couldn’t possibly beat any faster in his chest.

An awkward cough into his shoulder, before sharply nudging the other with his arm, “I’m trying to, but do you mind not phrasing things like that?”

Only to be met with an innocent but devious smile, one that clearly asked, ‘Like what?’

“Whatever.” He mumbles, “So why did you feel so cold anyway? I felt like I was touching a corpse.”

“That’s funny.” Nagito suddenly shifts, a sharp look in his eyes, “Between the two of us, I was certain that you were the one with the least amount of experience touching dead bodies.”

“I…” There’s hesitation, but a clear answer in Hajime’s mind, “Maybe I don’t. But I’m sure he does.” He doesn’t know why he says it, but it slips out nonetheless.

The silence that settles between them lapses into a difficult understanding, layers upon layers of tragedy and loss and despair digging their claws into the moment where it should have been just the two of them. It’s a silence that Hajime still has no idea what to make of when he sees five different emotions flicker behind Nagito’s eyes; each one too momentary to grasp, to decipher – it’s still far too fragile for them to pick apart. It had to remain unspoken. At least for now.

But the expression he finally settles on, even if it was meant to be passive, is one that startles Hajime. If he didn’t know any better, then he’d say that it reads dangerously close to acceptance when he sees a smile that feels significantly less artificial than all the ones before it.

Hajime almost laughs, because only Komaeda Nagito could listen to him admit to his other self very likely committing murder and smile in the face of that fact.

“Also, hmm… perhaps the air conditioning made me feel colder? My shirt? The floor?” The change in topic is less than graceful, it’s jarring even, but Hajime can’t find it in himself to care, instead focusing on the jacket button the other idly fiddled with as he spoke, “It could be many things, but if I had to gander a guess, I would say that I was just relaxed from all the drinks – it’s a change for once.” He quietly adds, “It… helps me.”

“It helps you?” Hajime asks, confused, “How exactly?”

“My, I would’ve thought that you of all people would know. We are quite similar, aren’t we?” Nagito’s lips twist into a stony expression, one that Hajime was familiar with by now but was no less affected by, “It helps me sleep – it helps me stay asleep. And it blocks this world out for longer. Maybe one day it’ll finally do the trick and shut me out for good, but… haha, who knows? I might need something stronger!”

A difficult beat passes through them, making the air feel heavier. Or maybe Hajime was just imagining things now that the real meaning behind Nagito’s words hit him full force. It was ironic, really – even now he still found similarities between them, even after all that’s been said and done. Even after everything has fallen apart.

“Don’t weigh me down at work…” It’s a scalding whisper that escapes Hajime, as if he was afraid to say anything in response in the first place, “You’re my partner.”

“Ah, so Hinata-kun is here just for work isn’t he? And here I thought he was beginning to care about scum like me.”

“…That’s a little unfair, isn’t it?” Hajime says a little louder than before, clenching his jaw as he looks down at Nagito with a carefree expression, “How could you possibly expect someone to care when you make them feel like they’re—” A groan leaves him instead of words, frustrated and tired, “Nothing. Never mind.”

Hajime adjusts himself back onto his feet, still holding onto the other man as he hoists the both of them up, carrying Nagito in his arms as carefully as possible despite the startled noise that sprung from him. Nagito quickly surrenders and melts into the touch, leaning into the warmth of Hajime’s chest and arms as he walks them back to the unmade bed.

He takes a seat beside Nagito on the mattress as soon as he sets him down, observing the contemplative look on his partner’s face and the way he indiscreetly shuffles closer so that their sides would touch. The air conditioning stops rattling pathetically for the first time since he arrived, and the true silence is deafening, maddening even. The hazy light coming in through the dusty windows was an unkind reminder of where they are and who they are. It isn’t long before Nagito finally shifts to face Hajime and breaks the tense silence.  

“Hinata-kun… do you hate me?”

The question catches him off guard and by the throat, nearly knocking the voice out of him. He could laugh. He could seriously laugh – he wished he could stop thinking about Nagito.

“I'd like to ask you the same.”

“Hmm… you’re right.” A hand on his chin and a thoughtful expression that grates on Hajime’s nerves, “I really should hate you, shouldn’t I?”

Hajime felt the irritation flare into anger, even though he should be used to it because it was Nagito he was dealing with. Why even ask? Why bring it up? Just to rub it in his face that things will never go back to the way they used to be when they were friends? Like the Neo World Program was nothing but a dream of play-pretend to him?

He wanted to tell him off for good just this once; shove his body right back onto the cold hardwood floor, and let him kindly know that, no, he shouldn’t feel compelled to hate anyone. Especially not the person meant to be his partner, even if they did only tolerate each other at most anyway.

But Hajime was still there, in his room and holding him in his arms to carry him up to his bed at one o’ clock in the morning. And now, strangely enough, the man who was hellbent on reminding Hajime of ‘his place in the world’ looked at him as if he were the only one left.

“It’s strange. I really should hate you, Hinata-kun. But I can’t bring myself to, even after learning everything about you.”

His body stills for a moment, not fully registering the words Nagito just said, apart from the fact that they felt completely wrong to him.

Felt completely wrong, completely out of touch compared to the way they’ve treated each other since waking up.

Their relationship that was once a friendship close enough to call each other by their first names laced with something unspoken led to this – led to whatever the hell this was, starting from lashing out at each other day after day to scorning words between brief glances that were reminiscent of days past. Like digging into healing gashes just to say that they were alive and undeserving of it, but for what? Just to live out the rest of their lives in misery?

A scoff wanted to leave him, maybe say something out of spite just to get those conflicting feelings out of his system. The slight huff of irritation Hajime let out instead didn’t do much to quell the butterflies in his stomach, and maybe he felt a little pathetic about admitting that.

“Hinata-kun is mad at me…”

Obviously, his brain hisses, but it’s harder to say that when Nagito looks at him like that. As if he genuinely cares about him.

“N-no, I… Look, I’m not mad. Just lie down, will you?”

Nagito looks at him like a child being told to go to bed, but nods all the same, adjusting himself on the bed so that he's still able to cling to Hajime’s waist even while lying down.

The other pats Nagito’s arm twice, nudging him to let go. Nagito only held on tighter, like he was all that kept him afloat.

“Where are you going?”

“I thought I’d tidy up your room a bi—” Hajime suddenly realizes what he said, body twisting back to face the other, “What do you mean, ‘where am I going’? Did you want me to stick around longer?”

“I-I understand if you don’t want to be around trash like me but—”

“Stop that. What do you really want?” Hajime growls, annoyance once again seeping into his voice, “Spit it out, Komaeda.”

Nagito doesn’t answer, and Hajime senses his patience trickling out of him. It’s only when he stands up that Nagito immediately tackles him at the waist to anchor him back down, nearly falling off the bed before Hajime catches him.

“What the hell are you doing?!”

The man doesn’t say anything for another beat, before he squeezes even harder, frame shaking as a trembling voice comes out of him, “You still didn’t answer my question.”

Hajime bites his lip.

“Do you hate me?” He asks quietly, something like fear in his voice even though Hajime knows neither of them should care either way. They really shouldn’t, but Nagito persists, “Do you hate me for all that I’ve done? All that I’ve said?”

He was angry – he was. He’d always feel irritated or worn out or upset or hurt after bickering. And sometimes even livid.

But… did that really mean that he hated him?

“I…”

Wasn’t it simply frustration? Bitterness for the lack of understanding, bitterness for the loss of warmth between them? Could that really be called hatred for the boy– the man in front of him?

“…I don’t.”

Nagito smiles, “I’m so glad…”

Neither of them makes any attempt to move from their position, the smell of citrus in the air assimilated into Hajime’s system and clinging to his clothes with how long he’s been here, probably. Or maybe it was just Nagito’s scent that clung to his body. He doesn’t mind it as much as he initially thought.

“It's so lonely here, Hinata-kun. The sun doesn’t reach me anymore. I haven’t felt it in so long, so I’m glad.” His voice trails off into a whisper, fragile and fond.

Huh?

His eyebrows furrow as he looks up from Nagito, gaze going directly to the windows. Sure enough, he could see the darkest part of the evening sky through the buildings around his apartment. Even if his window wasn’t directly east facing, there would at least be some sunlight in the day.

“That… doesn’t make any sense.” Hajime looks down at him in confusion, “You would get at least some sunlight in your room. I know it’s not as frequent given the smog in the sky but—”

A giggle tore out of the man who suddenly draped his arms around his neck, head pressing against his chest, and they could feel each other’s rhythm; for Hajime, it was Nagito’s childish laughter. For Nagito, it was Hajime’s unsteady heartbeat.

“You may be warm, but you’re not very bright, are you?”

…Of course.

Of course, Nagito would find some way to insult him as usual. The irritation pricked at his chest again, despite it being duller than all the times before, because why did he ever even expect anything to change? Why did he ever have any hope that they would go back to the way they used to be?

Although it really couldn’t anymore.

Not when the other’s arms pulled him down closer, and especially not when Nagito’s lips met him halfway and were suddenly on his own, warm, and just a little needy. Hajime sucks in a sharp breath through his nose from the shock of it all.

Hajime's mind then slows to a crawl, pulse rabbiting in his chest fervently despite him, not even realizing when his lips started moving on their own against Nagito’s. His right hand finds its way into Nagito’s messy and soft white hair, and he’s already melting into him, like nothing had ever changed between them.

Slow. Gentle. Unusually sweet.

The other pulls away an inch, and Hajime desperately wants to chase after that warmth before he catches the look in his eyes.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I… know I don’t deserve this, but I made a mistake. I made a grave mistake by pushing you away.” Nagito whispers with his lips barely grazing the other man’s, voice wavering like he was afraid to shatter whatever remained between them, “If I wanted things to change… would you let me ask for something so selfish, Hinata-kun?”

Hajime’s mind couldn’t process anything but the tearful look in Nagito’s eyes, the depths of his loneliness that seemed never-ending – an abyss with no end in sight but the reflection of Hajime in his eyes. A man who was no different than the one who was pouring his heart out in front of him, except he wasn’t nearly as brave.

“The other night, I had a dream about the two of us. Of the time we were on the beach together and fell asleep beside each other, even though our cottages were nearby,” He laughed, eyes twinkling, “We even asked Usami for permission just in case, but she was already overjoyed at the thought of two classmates bonding in the name of hope.”

Nagito leans his head against his shoulder, speaking quietly, “Hinata-kun, I don’t think you know how many times I’ve had that dream. And how many times I’ve pushed it away. What I thought was hatred was… anger. Anger at you. Anger at the world. Anger at despair. Anger at myself. I don’t know why it took me so long to realize that you were only ever looking towards the future. Even though it’s hard. I… mistook your self-acceptance for dismissal and maybe I was… jealous. Jealous of the way you could move forward like that.

Hajime’s breath hitches at his confession.

“But it’s such a lonely feeling, and I don’t know if I can bear to be alone anymore, even if I—even if I deserve it.”

“I wasn’t sure if you would stay even after I’d said all that earlier but…” Nagito pulls away from his shoulder, looking straight into his eyes in a way that makes him freeze in place, “You really are full of hope, Hinata-kun. Even as a reserve course student.” And there’s no bite this time when Nagito smiles at him, stares into his eyes with something like affection. It’s earth-shattering just how far the pendulum swings in the opposite direction when those same words aren’t full of vitriol.

“Will you stay?”

Hajime felt his heart leap into his throat a third time.

One day he wanted to lay on this very mattress with Nagito, side by side in their work clothes maybe, looking up at the patchy and water-stained white ceiling as if it were a sky draped with stars.

Just like he’d seen with the other before in the program; sea salt and the mild annoyance of sand prickling against their backs and unrestrained laughter and long talks of constellations and even longer tranquil silences between stolen glances.

Just like the night he realized how he felt about the lucky boy.

There was a hesitancy, a fear that came with it regardless of his resolve – a regret that the other would wake up to, and a rejection Hajime wouldn’t be able to stomach. He was only human after all.

But he saw a newfound spark in Nagito’s eyes that drew him in. A fragment of their solace from days of warm breezes, painted bright blue and so unlike the sky they’d opened their eyes to.

Eyes full of something unspoken, and it was something Hajime really wanted to find out.  

“Next time.” He whispered, warm hands squeezing cold ones reassuringly when Nagito’s expression falters, before he could retreat, “If you truly don’t regret this, and… if things can change, then next time.”

There’s a slow nod and a smile; a shy but mutual motion to lace their scarred and imperfect fingers together like they were meant to fit together regardless, and the room that once felt empty feels full of light. And for the first time in a long time, Nagito has hope in his heart again.

“I’ll see you in the morning, Nagito,” Hajime smiles at him, heartfelt and free for the first time since he woke up, “We’ll clean up together, yeah?”

Just like the hope Hajime had taught him about in the program, the one that he awakened; the hope that dwelled in Nagito all along.

[get-shiggy-with-it]

Ch. 1

Shigaraki Birthday Week! MINORS DNI DO NOT PUT THIS ON TIKTOK

Pairing: Tomura Shigaraki x fem!reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: reader is marked fem cause Tomura is a little sexist and hates you cause you’re a woman, no pronouns, incel!shiggy, collage au/no quirks, tomura is an asshole, gratuitous swearing, like so much, shiggy has a dirty mouth, mentions of shigs being anxious, let me know if I’ve missed something

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6

Summary: Tomura gets stuck taking an English class to graduate and is partnered with you, a bitchy try hard (his words not mine) for his final project. But over the course of the semester he finds that while he hates everyone, he might hate you just a little...less. 

AO3 mirror

The door at the back of the room creaked open and jarred Tomura from his half-sleep state. He didn’t look at who’d bothered to slip into this fucking class late, and instead tried to let the prof’s inane droning on Timothy Whoever The Fuck’s 18th weirdo letter book lull him into day dreaming. 

He only made it about a quarter of the way back into his boredom induced coma until he was dragged unwillingly into wakefulness once more. 

“Sorry, could you plug this in for me?” 

Tomura jumped again when you leaned over to whisper to him, computer charger in one hand, gesturing to the outlet on the wall by his head. You’d left the typical courtesy seat empty between the two of you and he stared blankly at the way you leaned your weight on the vacant chair. 

He recognized you.

The classic, dumbass teacher's pet who was always front and center of the room, iced drink at the ready looking like you belonged on the set of some god awful college b movie. 

Well, almost always. You certainly had that loud ass drink, but you’d tucked yourself at the end of his row towards the back of the room and was clearly a bit embarrassed for bursting in almost 15 minutes late. 

Tomura swallowed hard as your shirt gaped in the front. It took an immense amount of control to not gaze outright into the swell of your chest. 

“You good?” you asked softly, head cocked like you were straight out of a fucking manga panel—tits on display with that stupid innocent, puzzled expression.  

“Uh yeah, sorry,” Tomura mumbled. 

You offered him this gross, clearly fake smile—because why the hell would you be grinning like that if it wasn’t just because you wanted something from him—as he threaded the cord behind his chair and plugged it in. 

“Thanks,” you replied and turned back towards the professor, typing away cause you actually take notes in this class. 

Of fucking course you did. 

Probably trying to impress everyone with how you typed practically every word the prof said. Tomura decidedly did not take notes, and didn’t really pay that much attention in general. Usually he just played some trashy phone game under the desk or dozed with his head against the cement wall. 

It had gotten to that portion of the semester when it was warmer outside but the buildings still had the heat cranked all the way up, especially here in the basement where the classroom was. That environment along with his usual hoodie/joggers combo created grade A napping conditions that Tomura took full advantage of. 

As a rule, he actually cared about school and he did relatively well. But this was just some dumbass liberal arts requirement course that had nothing to do with his actual major, so he was perfectly fine with coasting. Why his comp sci degree required him to take a fucking Restoration era English class, he had no clue. Apparently neither did his advisor other than that the ‘administration recommended it’ so their students would have a ‘well rounded learning experience.’ 

It was almost certainly just a cash grab to make him take more credits than was necessary to graduate, but whatever. He was here now. And so were you. Your presence was overwhelmingly clear, typing away and smelling like one of those insanely specific laundry detergent label scents—fucking rolling meadows and grandmother’s clean linen or something like that. 

He’d never sat this close to you before, but that didn’t stop you from annoying the shit out of him for the previous whole half semester and going since it was just now passing midterms. Long enough for him to have pegged you as a textbook try-hard, pick-me bitch. You contributed to discussion at every opportunity, turned in shit early, and debated other classmates regularly enough to disrupt his in-course sleep schedule. 

The way you dressed pissed him off too, with a particular style that was enough to stand out but not so over the top that it would cause disinterest from any potential mates.

And now you were filling his corner of the room with the overpowering smell of freshly washed hair and demanding he do things for you. 

Fucking disgusting. 

“Tomura Shigaraki.”

He jumped a third time, attention directed from his lap to the front of the room where the prof stood, listing out names from the board. He heard your name next followed by Kai Chisaki. The list was projected on the board as well, grouping everyone into twos or threes with “Final Project Partners” listed in bold Helvetica font at the top. 

Only fucking English profs used Helvetica. 

He vaguely remembered mentions of a final presentation—one of like three grades in this class cause the prof was almost certainly a sadist. 

No, not almost—definitely. Otherwise he wouldn’t have stuck him with you and that weirdo Kai pre-med student who insisted on acting so elitist you’d think he already had his fucking M.D. 

One time he asked Tomura to move seats at the start of the semester because he looked “dirty” and Kai liked to sit in the back—which, fair enough, it wasn’t like Tomura showered as frequently as he probably should but what the fuck??  

With you rushing in late, chest out and panting every now and again from your apparent sprint across campus, Tomura was certain he’d be subjected to a whole 6 weeks of watching you try to mount that fucking Kai dude instead of actually working. 

This was going to be a nightmare. 

From the end of the table, he saw you shifting and turned to find that stupid fucking smile flashed his way once again. 

If you had a tail, he’d bet it would be wagging. 

“Hey, well that’s convenient,” you chuckled and plopped down directly next to him, sliding your noisy ass drink across the table with you and brushing against his thigh when you shifted your bag to the side. 

“Yeah,” he nodded.

It most certainly was not. 

But Tomura would never say that because—as his roommate put it so kindly—he was kinda a pussy. 

People made him nervous, they always had. That’s why he liked computers so much. Code made sense, there were clear rules and when something didn’t work out, he could fix it eventually, but you couldn’t see people’s codes. You had to fucking guess at shit and it made his anxiety skyrocket which the sides of his neck and finger tips suffered for. 

So he cowered like the fucking dog you probably thought he was instead and kept his eyes on the floor, letting you set up in silence. 

“Who was our third?” you asked, glancing around the room. “Sorry, I was busy making a shared drive and I came in  late so I missed that last bit.”

Why the hell did you feel the need to apologize all the goddamn time? Seriously, who would believe you were actually sorry for being irritating as hell. 

And god if he thought you were irritating. 

“Kai,” he grumbled simply as the man in question sauntered over to the table and fucking Clorox wiped down the seat before sitting.  

Tomura watched your smile falter just a bit and grinned inwardly at the slip in your fake little persona. But you didn’t say anything more, just moved your chair back so the three of you were in a semi-circle and pulled up a few pdfs on your laptop. 

“Cool, so I was looking over the directions on the syllabus last week and I set up a little work delegation thing so we can distribute everything pretty evenly,” you jumped right in, tone matter of fact in the down-to-business manner he was used to hearing from you during class discussions. 

It was better than you so clearly forcing yourself to be overly polite, and he honestly couldn’t really care less if you wanted to take charge of this thing. You seemed kinda bossy, but he begrudgingly admitted that your suck up behavior did mean you sort of knew what you were talking about. He was just here to pass and you might actually make that a lot easier. 

It was okay as long as he was taking advantage of you, he told himself. And you would be too stupid to notice, so he could play your game and play pretend nice all the way to an A. 

That walking condescension on the other hand— 

“I’m not doing that,” Kai huffed through his ever-present mask. 

Tomura wasn’t actually sure he’d ever seen the bastards face without it. 

“What?” you laughed awkwardly. “Yes you are, you don’t really have much of a choice.” 

You stared at your classmate who simply stared right back with his own, equally confused expression. 

“Why do you look so surprised?” you asked after a moment of silence. 

You weren’t smiling anymore and your voice had dropped down about a fucking octave. At least you sounded more like a person and not some wannabe uwu gamer bitch.

“People don’t talk to me like that,” Kai looked at you down his nose, legs spread wide and elbow resting on his knees. 

Tomura could feel the pretentiousness wafting from him in waves, and waited with bated breath for you to get kicked off your pedestal. Just a bit though, he did need you around to do most of his work for this thing. 

But in a shocking turn of events, you just laughed dryly twice and turned back to your laptop screen, mumbling as you did. 

“Really? Well they should.” 

Tomura would have laughed too, but he didn’t feel like inflating your ego. Kai on the other hand looked a bit like you’d just spit on shoes and furrowed those stupid, plucked thin eyebrows at the back of your head. 

“So Tomura, you code right?” you asked, turning away from Kai completely to address him. “I just remember you saying you were in comp sci when we did introductions.” 

He was taken aback by the knowledge that he existed as a person in your head outside of this room for a moment and simply nodded—suddenly feeling far too hot in his black on black sweats and hoodie. 

God just talking to you made his skin burn. 

“Great, cause we’re allowed to chose the medium we present in and I was thinking of taking it in a more creative direction cause I’ve had this prof before and he eats that shit up,” you begin to ramble again, scrolling through a bulleted list, shifting the screen for him to see. 

“Right,” he murmured, still surprised you’d thought this far and not...actively hating what you’d brainstormed. 

Well, it was a bit juvenile and you clearly didn’t know what you were talking about but the concept wasn’t horrendous. He could work with that and it shouldn’t be too hard. It kinda seemed like you’d overestimated a bit with how challenging it would actually be and saddled yourself with most of the heavy lifting. That or you were just a control freak which was a little more believable.

He wished you would stop looking at him over the edge of the screen. He could feel himself starting to sweat. Rivulets falling down the nape of his neck and racing across his bare chest under the sweatshirt. Tomura sorta regretted not wearing a shirt underneath but he knew that he wouldn’t have taken off the insulating layer even if that had been an option. 

It would just mean you had more drying, pale as fuck skin to look at and judge him for because he knew that’s what you were doing. Fucking vapid and shallow like everyone else. 

“It’s really rough so far, but I have it the gist outlined,” you indicated to another tab and then turned back to Kai who had been sitting silently glaring daggers into your back. “So, Kai, since you’re in STEM I figured you’d be okay with doing more of the preliminary research—”

“I don’t think so,” Kai interrupted, shaking his head and pushing off his knees to lean back in the cheap, plastic seat. “Look, it’ll be easier for all of us if you two just make it look pretty and I can handle the oral presentation.” 

You gaped and looked to Tomura with this pathetic fucking incredulous stare, like you thought he’d back you up. 

Which actually, now that he thought about it was probably a good idea—he did need you to remain somewhat cordial with him—but he certainly didn’t care enough to defend you in any way. Kai was a dick, sure, but he wasn’t gonna let you rope him into being your white knight or whatever. 

He settled for a similarly disgruntled downward twitch of his lips. The movement pulled at the cracking skin which stung as it tore open even more. Tomura felt the familiar crawling feeling on his neck and shifted in his seat to resist the urge to scratch. 

He couldn’t pinpoint why exactly you staring at him was so uncomfortable. He didn’t like you, he didn’t care about you and by extension didn’t give two shits what you thought of him, but anything he might have said shriveled on his tongue when you spoke or looked in his eyes too long. 

Tomura had never made a habit of talking to females and they certainly had never wanted anything to do with him either. 

Maybe he was fucking allergic or something. 

Whatever the case, you seemed to take his half frown as a sign of solidarity and leaned back in your own seat. 

“Okay, look,” you retorted. “If you’re seriously not gonna at least try to cooperate, then there is actually an option to do the project by yourself and I suggest you take it.” 

The look on your face was distinctly impolite. There was a sharpness to the set of your jaw that Tomura had never seen before, but it looked practiced enough that he could bet it was simply the snake that resided in every woman just waiting to come out. 

“Look sweetheart—” that masked jerk began, also for some fucking reason looking to Tomura for support. 

For someone who was very much used to blending into the background scenery, this was the most eye contact Tomura had ever made in a day. 

Except on the rare occasions his roommate had friends over and he had to make the dreaded trek from his room to reach the fridge. 

“Oh yeah I’m not doing that,” you closed your laptop sharply and rolled your eyes. “I get it, but I’m really just trying to graduate. I don’t think this is going to work out and you,” Tomura froze as you shifted your gaze to him once again, “seem okay, so Tomura and I can just work this out by ourselves and you can find a different group.” 

Kai scoffed behind the black layer of fabric covering his mouth and slung his backpack over his shoulder. “Whatever.” 

Tomura watched him saunter straight out the door as the room was filled with the shuffling of notebooks and zipping of backpacks. 

“God,” you huffed and turned back to him. 

His raw skin burned under the new wave of heat and accompanying moisture that slicked his skin when you scooted closer to him. That clean laundry and shampoo smell was suffocating from this proximity. 

Did you fucking bathe in the stuff? 

He was becoming increasingly aware of his less than pleasant aroma and the fact that you not scrunching your nose up in disgust just out of some stupid, ingrained need to appease him. 

“Well, that was...weird,” you chuckled in a way that was probably meant to break the tension. 

Unfortunately Tomura felt more like he was about to break out in hives if you came any closer so it really just ended up making the atmosphere ten times more awkward. At least for him. You, somehow, remained resolutely unaware. 

“Mhm,” he hummed in response and picked silently at the skin of his fingers. 

“Anyway, I have a meeting in a few but we can trade numbers and pick a time to meet up sometime tomorrow maybe?” you suggested, quickly saving the steadily degrading vibes of the conversation and pulled out your phone. 

He really hated the full body pulsation that rushed through him at the thought of getting a girls number. It made him fucking sick at himself for falling into your stupid trap to get him interested. Was your plan to just use him to get a good grade or whatever and then block his texts?

It wasn’t like Tomura didn’t know about his status as the class ‘freak.’ That one guy everyone whispers about and makes sure not to sit next to. And he knows you know, so why the hell else would you act so nice?

He wanted to say something scathing in return. That he could do the whole thing by himself too—which he definitely couldn’t but that was irrelevant—and that he didn’t need you bossing him around either. 

“Sure thing,” he said instead and took your offered phone all too eagerly, typing in his number and watching as you shot off a text back so he’d have yours. 

His phone buzzed against his thigh and he jumped a fourth time, but you seemed not to notice as you packed your bag and grabbed your basic ass drink. The ice clattered against the tumbler, dropping cool condensation against the searing skin of his hand. 

Tomura shivered as you waved over your shoulder and slipped out the door with another rush of students. 

He sat silently in the empty room for a moment, trying to process the last hour. He pinched himself idly, wondering if it had all been just a weird dream, but the results were inconclusive. A minute or two passed before he pulled out his phone to scroll through the list of reddit and discord notifs to find your text. 

Unknown Number:

— pEopLe DoN’t TaLK tO mE liKE ThAt 

— not very plus ultra of him...smh

— anyway, library at 6 tomorrow ?

 Tomura caved, digging his nails into the side of his neck and hissed at the pain, confirming the day's horrible reality. 

[snowboiwinwin]

The Boyz as my University Professors

Disclaimer: Some of my professors are evil bitches; none of the boys are truly evil and I am in no way implying they are or trying to make them look bad! I love the boys and I just thought it would be a fun thing to post :D

-------------------------------

Sangyeon: 

the one professor that absolutely loves the topic of his class

super wholesome and smiley throughout the 90 minutes class time

getting super close to the camera (actually to the mic) because he is worried students won’t hear him well enough

always asking questions and encouraging students to interact

not offended when something isn’t clear and therefore students don’t know the answer

reading EVERY. SINGLE. MESSAGE written in the chat (sometimes students have mic problems or don’t wanna speak)

making everyone feel valid and appreciated

being super calm and relaxed

barely doing breakout-rooms cause he knows no one likes them

ending class always a little earlier cause “I know how stressful your life can get.”

just the cutest prof out there

Jacob: 

another sweet guy

never holds class at its normal timeframe

just uploads all the files students will need (although attendance is supposed to be mandatory)

“you guys are all grown-ups, I trust you to decide yourself when it is the best time for YOU to study.”

constantly uses smileys and is therefore super popular with students

doesn’t teach many classes, cause which good prof does that? ugh

gets right back at students when they email him their concerns

and no, you don’t get half-assed answers

you get a very detailed answer, which is rare in university life

THANKS STUDENTS FOR SENDING HIM THEIR HOMEWORK!!!!

“Dear [name of stundet], thank you very much! 😊”

offers students to call him by his first name

“I’ll call you by your first name too if that’s okay... creates a more comfortable atmosphere!”

the best <3

Younghoon:

he is a savage professor

his look is hella scary and students fear taking his classes

but he is actually the coolest and most laid back dude ever

the first time class is held, he comes in, stone cold expression and literally throws his bag on the desk - everyone is hella scared

then he says, in the scariest voice ever, “We can have fun here in class, no problem, but i AM YOUR PROFESSOR. NOT YOUR FRIEND. Remember that.”

*everyone scared to death*

“Welcome to class everybody! My name is Mr. Kim and I am very looking forward to teach this class in our summer term! Feel free to ask any question that might come up and don’t hesitate to reach out to me whenever!”

no need to be scared, he is a sweetheart

strict and has high expectations, but won’t overdo it with homework or assignments

constantly jokes around but then switches back to being serious

he creates a nice atmosphere where students want to learn something and do it voluntarily 

cares for his students and appreciates their hard work - especially during the pandemic

“I know this is not easy for any of us but I am so amazed by your guys’ work this semester. It was an absolute pleasure teaching you. I hope to see you guys again, but not in this class. Please don’t fail.”

I love him

Hyunjae:

omg, he is an absolute legend

class starts and he is doing his introduction part

the class i about british literature 

“Welcome to this literature class, you are in for a long ride!”

so far so good right?

“Let me just say, British Literature is an ABSOLUTE shit show!”

when I tell you, I almost died hearing that (no offense to anyone, pls don’t take my profs words to heart... he lives for british literature 🥺)

he definitely has his students hooked with this one sentence

“the teacher that taught this class before me... what was he even talking about! I mean, british literature is so much more than what he made it out to be!”

basically starts ranting  

teaches with so much passion

can’t forget the jokes here and there

also uses smileys which students seriously love (at least I do)

wants students to be informal with him as well

“moving on to this next topic... a little disclaimer before we start: I will go batshit crazy with this topic because I LOVE IT. So please tell me to shut up when I exceed the 10 minutes mark. Thank you!”

A savage legend that everyone loves

sadly only teaches a handful of classes as well

Juyeon: 

super laid back and chill

does never check attendance and just trusts his students

usually talks most of the time and doesn’t ask too many questions

is super happy when students contribute though

but he isn’t one to force them

“I know your day has probably been really long, so it’s okay. I’m not taking this personal.”

his class is not based on theory but more on experiences he made

shares funny stories, mistakes he made and what he learnt from them

always gives the smallest and easiest homework ever

“please just share your experiences with these types of situations in our forum”

and he does not want to grade students based on an exam

“I have a better idea. In order to understand a certain topic, I want you to write a portfolio about it. It should be detailed but I won’t give you a number of words. Do what feels right and surprise me! Be creative, nothing will be worth a failing grade as long as you put in some effort.”

does split classrooms

one half is in the main room with him, the others are in breakout rooms, working on a certain topic

super chill and just not as hard as some other classes

but students definitely learn from him!

Kevin:

oh boy, students either gonna hate or love him

he is very kind and nice but he is STRICT

take his class serious and work or you will fail

although he has very high expectations, he will make sure students will be prepared for all the essays, assignments and presentations he throws at at them

no half-assed instructions, you will get the full program (as every student should!)

you have to write an argumentative essay but have no idea how to do that?

Professor Moon (students are allowed to call him Kevin) will explain an argumentativ essay in detail, will show examples and will tell you exactly what to put in it

having trouble finding sources?

Kevin will help you, just let him know!

Also a very empathetic teacher

something happened and you can’t attend class? Absolutely no problem

whenever something serious happens (for us it was a shooting), Kevin will cancel class and spare his students cause their well-being is more important

he doesn’t throw out A’s and B’s easily but when you do get such a grade in one of his classes... dude, you did a really good job

so as I said, he is either your fav or least fav professor... choose your side!

Chanhee:

he is a bitch (not really, but he gives the impression)

at first, he is that nice, bubbly professor

super friendly and kind

and his classes are absolutely okay! no biggie

or so they THOUGHT

his exams and progress tests or whatever ARE HELL

he makes it seem as everything is so easy and not overwhelming at all

BUT nothing is easy and everything is overwhelming

50 pages for a damn progress test two weeks into the semester!

the grading is so strict, you need at least 65% to pass! (maybe I am a baby but 65% is a lot for a passing grade hahaha)

but he confuses students

he is so kind and soft spoken

constantly smiling and in a good mood

but the exams????

are you sure you were the one creating them Mr Choi?

and yes, he is one of those professors that wants to be addressed by his last name (nothing wrong with that)

as I said, he confuses students

they don’t know what to think of him

at the end of the day he isn’t a bad guy

just not the type of professor the students would want in every single class for the rest of their lives

Changmin:

changmin is not your ordinary professor

because he is a big fan of team-teaching

so all his classes are taught by him and his dear colleague Haknyeon!

YAAAAY

I love this duo already

he is the part of the duo that is EXTREMELY motivated

he is is so hyper and so ready for teaching

his classes are always fun but also slightly overwhelming?

juts imagine having too much caffeine in your body

that is changmin being able to teach something he loves

that’s just the passion jumping out of him

he is constantly talking and laughing and throwing jokes left and right

he is having a good time!

super understanding and empathetic

and although everything seems fun and games

you will definitely learn from him!

he has this natural and authentic way of teaching in his body

it comes... naturally and it all makes sense somehow

although the class is packed with inside jokes and changmin teasing haknyeon

haknyeon doesn’t even have time nor the chance to speak

this is changmin’s time to shine!

they love and hate each other

but the students definitely love this iconic duo

Haknyeon:

as I mentioned; haknyeon and changmin are a team

it wasn’t really something haknyeon wanted but... how could you possibly say no to baby changmin? 🥺

so yes, changmin’s cute face got him into this situation

he doesn’t even have to prepare anything for class - his lovely colleague does the talking anyways

he usually lays back and relax

he frowns into the cam cause he tries to intimidate students

but they know he is a soft guy anyways

while changmin is talking, he is chatting to students in the chat

as I mentioned earlier, not everyone wants to unmute themselves and therefore posts in the chat

so he is having chats with students, often not even related to the topic

“Please excuse me, I will be absent for a few minutes - mommy duties” -student

“Don’t worry Miss! I know exactly what you mean... children.” -haknyeon

whenever he tries to get a word in, he has to talk VERY LOUDLY

he literally has to talk over changmin

but changmin doesn’t mind, he just smiles, nods and listens

changmin is super proud whenever haknyeon speaks

and haknyeon thinks that’s very sweet

but that thought passes as soon as changmin makes a joke about him

at the end of the day, they love each other at least to a certain extent and students adore them

Sunwoo:

he is not an ordinary professor either

class time? virtual meetings?

nope, not with sunwoo

again, in the classes the boyz teach, attendance is mandatory 

mandatory? sunwoo has never heard of her

he doesn’t require students to attend meetings and homework is also something he does not expect from them

he uploads powerpoint-presentations with videos and audio of him explaining everything in the presentation

but the boy is clumsy

and he is not good with anything technical

so him dropping his glass and spilling his water all over his lap?

well, students will see this in the video

“... and it’s important to- YAAAAH OH NO....”

*awkward silence*

“I spilled my water... if you haven’t seen.”

*more awkward silence*

“Give me a minute”

*the video continues and sunwoo is nowhere in sight*

after ten minutes of an empty chair, sunwoo returns and continues as if nothing has happened

sometimes his kids walk in and dab in the camera without him noticing

“and then - Hey! I am at WORK.”

he loves it though

and he posts these “fail” videos on purpose

“I want to show you, that it is okay to not be perfect and to not be in control of everything! Stuff like that happens, especially with us being in home-office! And don’t worry, if your mom walks in or whatever, in my classroom no one gets judged! This is life and now that we have to do everything from home, the unexpected is unavoidable!”

Another students’ favorite

Eric:

I would love to imagine him as this savage prof I have in mind... but no <3

he is a sweet guy

also super obsessed with the class he is teaching

he is LIVING for it

usually experiences technical problems right before class starts

“oopsie daisy, sorry guys... might take a few minutes *giggles*”

and no, it’s not a creepy giggle but a really cute one, I swear!

constantly has a pen in his hand and clicks it absentmindedly while teaching

students constantly hear the clicking sound... or when the pen falls to the ground.... which happens every five minutes

he constantly forgets to mute himself whenever he wants students to work by themselves and all they hear is him chugging down his water or whatever drink he has prepared

also sends out super sweet emails

but due to him being a young dude, he wants students to call him by his last name

he also calls students by their last name but he does use smileys to lighten the professional mood that comes with honorifics

overall a very motivated but extremely kind-hearted dude

[biclarisselarue]

hello loml :’) for the asks - can i please get a percabeth (your fav hehe) for a 6. coffee shop!au, 1. friends to lovers, and 32. “shut up for a second, will you?” BUT it’s percy saying that to annabeth hehe love you grace

It’s 7 am, and Percy is not looking at the door. Neither is he waiting to hear the chime of it opening while cleaning the counter space. And his whole body definitely hasn’t suddenly gone tense, heart beating a little faster, and palms getting slightly sweaty because it’s 7 am on a Tuesday morning and that’s always when—

Ding.

His head whips up to see a familiar student pushing her way into the shop, dressed in sweats and a sweatshirt with her hair pulled into a messy ponytail, ready for the morning class that he knows is at 7:30 am in the building right across from the coffee shop because she complains about how early it is almost every week.

“Morning, Annabeth.” He grins widely as she simply grunts a quiet hello back at him, eyes still a little bleary and unfocused. “Looks like you really need this today.” 

She takes the waiting cup from him gratefully and takes a sip before pulling out her wallet to pay, sighing contentedly. “When do I not?” As always, she drops an extra five dollars into the tip jar. 

“Up late studying for your final?” Percy steadfastly ignores the fact that maybe it’s a little unusual that he knows so much about the personal life of one of the shop’s regulars. That’s a lot easier to ignore than Rachel’s pointed eyebrow raise from beside him at least. 

It’s with a sheepish grin and another sip of coffee that Annabeth replies, “Maybe.”

A quick look outside shows nobody approaching and since there’s nobody inside the shop other than the three of them, Percy has no issues with leaning against the counter and focusing all of his attention on the woman he’s had a slight crush on for the past five months. It’s because of this focus that he notices the tension to her forehead as she looks down at the side of her coffee where he’s written Nerd <3 in a large, messy scrawl. She’s smiling, but her hands are tense around the cup. 

“Hey, you’re going to do great, okay? I’ve seen you through this whole semester, and you’ve done amazing in every single thing the prof has thrown at you.”

Annabeth looks back up at him, but the tension in her body only seems to intensify. She glances briefly at Rachel, who seems to get some kind of hint and disappears into the back room, then back to Percy. Her fingers drill nervously against the side of the blue compostable cup. 

“Percy, I was wondering if you’d want, maybe, since this is my last class, right, so I won’t really be needing to come to this side of campus anymore, but I was thinking, well, hoping, that you’d want to, if you’d like to, um, go on a date with me sometime?” Her words speed up as she keeps talking, so much so that he almost misses the actual question. 

“Uh,” he says helpfully, still trying to process what’s happening. Should he pinch himself? Is this some practical joke her and Rachel had planned?

Her cheeks turn pink slightly, and she shifts on her feet. “You don’t have to say yes! I know that I’ve been coming in here a lot, and you might feel obligated to agree because you have to be nice to the customers, but if you say no, I won’t be offended or mad, and I’ll keep coming here and this wouldn’t affect how I tip or anything, though I’d probably avoid your shift times.” She laughs nervously and opens her mouth again to keep talking, looking more uncomfortable by the second.

“Wait, shut up for a second, will you?” Her mouth snaps shut with a slight click, even as her eyes narrow. Percy scrubs a hand over his face and through his hair, finding it harder and harder to keep a stupid grin from forming. “I mean, sorry, I just.” Deep breath, Percy. “I would love to go on a date with you sometime, but I was starting to get worried you wouldn’t give me the chance to say yes.”

“Right, sorry.” Her smile takes on that slightly sheepish quality again, and he has to force himself to not get too distracted by how cute she looks. “So, um, that is a yes though, right?”

He nods. “Yeah, that’s a yes.” They stand there, grinning foolishly at each other, both a little flushed. 

Rachel comes pushing through the back door, waving her phone at them. “Annabeth, you’re going to be late for your exam— you know, the final one! I’ve got your number, I’ll send it to Percy and make sure he plans something great, now go before you scare all the other customers off with your gross eye contact.” Percy tries to shove her, rolling his eyes, but she simply dodges his attempt and points at the door. 

“Okay, okay, I’m going!” Annabeth laughs, still looking at Percy, and lifts her coffee cup up in a mock cheer as she starts to walk towards the door. “See you later then. For our date.”

He repeats it, face getting sore from the smile that seems to have permanently lodged itself on his face. “For our date.”

Rachel laughs at the both of them and calls out as Annabeth slips out the entrance. “Good luck!”

[getinthering]

Taang Week Day 2: Modern AU

“Thursday, never looking back,”

[ @taangweek​ Day 2: Modern AU

After only two weeks of spring semester, Aang is fed up and ready to drop his geology class.]

A/N: i wanna redo this and make it better and i really struggled with the world-building here ngl so I couldn’t really come up with good names for the buildings or profs.  what can you do¯\_(ツ)_/¯  Inspired by tumblr user @rllyjohnrlly’s modern au, specifically this post.

Read on AO3

***

Science, as Aang was learning, was absolutely not what he had thought it would be.  When he was still in high school, he excitedly declared a zoology major on all of his college applications, thinking he would turn his love for animals into a lifelong career.

All it took was his first college-level biology class to quickly bury that idea.  Between that and chemistry for non-majors, he felt resigned to the idea that all science classes were a bad idea for him, and that he’d better just pick the easiest one in the catalog to round out his general requirements.  Which is how he found himself enrolled in the Introduction to Geology class his freshman spring semester.  He’d learned the three types of rocks and the basics in high school, how hard could it be?

(the answer was very hard)

(but slightly less hard than biology)

After the second week of class, he sat on the floor of Katara’s dorm, textbook draped across his lap as she sat at her desk, diligently working on her homework.  She really excelled at the very classes that almost killed him and he admired that about her.

“Ugh!” Aang groaned, slamming his textbook shut and throwing his head back onto her bed.   “Katara, this is awful.” 

She set her pen down and shifted in her chair to face him, the look on her face one of confusion and concern.  “What’s the matter?” 

“I can’t do this!  I hate this class,” he replied, pressing his palms into his eyes.

“Aang, what are you talking about?  You can’t hate a class already, we’re only two weeks into the semester!  What could possibly be so bad about it now?” Katara asked, getting up from her chair and walking over to sit across from him.

He sighed and let his hands fall back into his lap.   He rolled his head to look at her.  “Because it’s awful!  I knew it probably wouldn’t be much fun, but I thought at least it would be pretty easy.  And it’s not!  It’s so hard and so boring and the professor is the most lame professor I have ever met.” 

(she couldn’t help but smirk at that)

“Okay, well, you’re not going to find a class that’s easy, especially in your weakest subject.  It’s just not going to happen.  Maybe it’ll get more interesting after the first few chapters.  Those are always just introductory anyway, they’re way more boring than the rest of the class.” She could see he wasn’t convinced and added, “The drop period was over Friday, anyway, so if you’re going to take a withdrawal, you might as well wait until after the first test.  Maybe it won’t be as hard as you’re expecting.” 

Aang sighed.  She was right.  He hated when she was right.  “Fine.  I’ll stick it out through the first test, but can we please take a study break now?”

***

Thursday morning, Aang walked into the lecture hall, trying his best not to drag his feet.  It took all of his determination that morning to make his way to class instead of staying holed up in his dorm, playing video games until he got hungry.  But he’d promised Katara and he knew he would get an earful if he broke his promise.  Maybe if he just pretended he was Katara for a period, he’d have more ease with the class.  Katara wouldn’t sit in the back, as was his first impulse, she would sit in the very first row.

He compromised and sat about four rows back.  Earbud in one ear, he set his notebook on the table and pulled out his phone, scrolling through the texts from his friends that he’d missed on his walk.  He didn’t notice when a dark-haired girl sat in the seat next to him until she tapped on his notebook.  Startled, he yanked out the earbud and looked at her.  “Um, hello?”

The girl looked at him 

(he couldn’t help but notice how pale her eyes were and the weird quality to her gaze that he couldn’t pinpoint)

and said, “You normally sit all the way in the back.  What are you doing up here now?  We haven’t even had a test.  Did you get in trouble or something?” 

His cheeks felt warm and he knew he was blushing.  “No, I just felt like maybe I’d learn better closer to the front.  This stuff has been kind of hard for me so far, I guess.” 

The look on her face was a little unsettling, like she was staring straight through him.  She finally shrugged, turning away from him.  “What’s so hard about geology?”

“I don’t know.   I guess science classes just don’t come very easily to me.”

“Well lucky for you, geology is, like, as easy as they get,” she said.  He didn’t feel especially reassured, but smiled a little anyway.

“So what you’re saying is you’ll help me study?”  Aang asked sheepishly.

She snorted, but replied, “Maybe I will.  What’s your major, anyway?”  

“Oh, um,” he stuttered, feeling the redness in his face deepening and rubbing his neck in embarrassment.  “I was a zoology major, but right now I’m undeclared.” He wanted to ask her the same question, wanted suddenly to know everything about this brazen, somewhat guarded girl who had sat next to him (and had noticed that it was not his normal seat), but was cut off by the professor calling the class’s attention to the lectern.

***

Seventy-five painstaking minutes of trying

(and failing) 

to pay attention to the powerpoint in front of him instead of the dark-haired girl leaned back in the seat next to him later, the class was dismissed.  The girl had stood, grabbing her bag, and Aang panicked for a moment, trying to think of something to say.  He finally settled on asking if he could walk her to her next class.

She paused, turning her head towards him.  “Well, it’s all the way over in the Humanities building.”

“That’s okay, that’s on the way to my dorm, and I don’t have another class for an hour, anyway.” He swore he saw her smile as she rolled her eyes and said, “Fine.  You can walk with me.” 

They talked the whole way there, never seeming to run out of topics.  He was disappointed at how short the walk felt, having so much more to ask her.  He’d found out she was an architecture major with a lifelong special interest in geology, lived in the freshman dorms by the Physical Sciences lecture hall, and that despite being blind, she was as in-tune with her surroundings as anyone.  It was only after they said their goodbyes that he realized he’d never learned her name.

***

Her name, as it turned out, was Toph.

Every Tuesday and Thursday over the next three weeks, they sat next to each other and Aang walked her to her next class.  He actually found motivation to study his notes for the first time, if only for the fact that the recordings she shared with him featured their conversations in the background of the lecture.  

Once, he had been running late after sleeping through his alarms, and while his first impulse had been to go back to sleep and skip his first class of the day, he bolted out of bed and rushed to get dressed, worrying that someone would take his seat next to Toph.

(or worse, she wouldn’t even notice)

He nearly ran all the way across campus.  Heart pounding, he snuck through the doorway as the professor lectured on and slipped into his usual seat next to Toph.  She lifted her head; something he couldn’t quite place flashed over her face.

(relief?)

“Finally decided to show up, huh?” she whispered.

He started to explain himself, but stopped short, deciding on a better way to embarrass himself.  “Yeah.  I got caught up trying to figure out why you’re so good at this class.” 

“Did you figure it out?” 

“It’s because you don’t take anything for granite.”  He looked over to catch the way the corner of her lips tugged upwards through the taken-aback look on her face.

“That was awful.  Don’t do that again,” she hissed at him.

“Okay, okay,” he conceded, chuckling to himself.  “You know what I would’ve been if I hadn’t shown up today?” 

“What’s that?”

“A skipping stone.” 

The irritated expression she wore intensified, fending off the smile he so desperately wanted to see.  “Seriously, you have got to stop doing that.  I don’t like puns, especially when they’re that bad.” 

“My sediments exactly.”  He almost expected her to hit him, but was delighted to hear a giggle escape.  A warm feeling spread through his chest and he knew then that he would spend every last moment he had for the rest of her life trying to make her laugh again.

***

“You guys!” Aang exclaimed, slamming the door to Sokka’s apartment closed a little harder than he had meant to.  He continued into the living room, all but throwing himself onto the couch next to Katara without so much as a “hello” to her, Sokka, or Suki.  “I had the most amazing date today.” 

Sokka looked up from where he sat, getting his hair braided, between Suki’s legs.  “You had a date?  With who?” 

“Was it that girl from your geology class?” Katara asked. 

“Yes!  Her name is Toph and I finally got her number and we’ve been talking, like, non-stop,” he blurted all at once.

“Slow down!” Katara giggled.  “Are you going to tell us about the date?” 

“Right, so I’ve sat next to her in geology since I’ve been wanting to do better in that class.  That’s been a bad idea as far as paying more attention, but spirits, it’s been the best.  I was almost late this morning because I slept through my alarms.”  Seeing the admonishing look on Katara’s face, he added, “I actually got up as soon as I realized and went to class, don’t worry, Momtara.  Anyway, I got to class just as the prof was starting the powerpoint, and when I first walked in, I was worried someone else might have taken the seat next to her that I’ve been sitting in, but no one had.  And she actually seemed like she was looking for me.  I mean, she can’t see, but still, when I finally got there and sat down, I swear it looked like she was happy to see me.” 

Not leaving room for Sokka to make a disparaging joke, Aang recounted the jokes he’d told her,

(which he definitely stayed up several nights in a row to come up with) 

how she’d acted like she’d hated them, but he’d caught her snickering a few times.  

“So you asked her out after class?” Suki asked.

Aang blushed and ran a hand through his short hair.  “Not exactly.”  He held up his hands in protest of his friends’ exclamations.  “I always walk her to her next class because it’s on the way to my dorm and I always want to keep talking to her.  Well, we get all the way to the Humanities building and she looks at me and says, ‘I don’t really feel like going to this class today.’” 

“She skipped class?” Suki asked with a mock-scandalous tone.  “Maybe you two are meant for each other.” 

“I know!” Aang said, ignoring the jab entirely.  “And, Katara, don’t give me that look.  I would have convinced her to go to class, but the opportunity was there and I couldn’t pass up taking her to lunch.” Grinning, he told them about how Toph had loosened up while they ate, even agreeing to try his favorite vegan restaurant in the main commons, how cute she was when she smiled at him.  She had even agreed to a study date the following night.

He couldn’t wipe the smile from his face when he asked, “So would you guys be okay if she came to hang out with us this weekend?” 

[haosvteen]

Betcha | lee chan

a/n: i drew a little bit of inspiration for this from ‘betcha’ by baekhyun, so that explains the title!! this is one of my favorite things i’ve written in a long time :) i hope you like it!! <3

college!chan x female!reader

~ - fluff

word count: 2.8k

masterlist

A warm burst of air greets you as you swing open the door of the stone building, looking down at your watch to see how much time was left before your class started. Since there were five minutes until your professor would begin rambling on about motifs in classic literature, you decided to walk down the hall a bit to grab a drink from the vending machine. Your shoes squeaked on the glossy tile floor due to the freshly melting snow you obtained on your walk from your apartment, causing a few students leaning against the walls waiting for their classes to look up at you. Ignoring their looks, you approach the vending machine and swipe your card. Prepared to make a selection, you hear loud laughter coming down the hall on your right. 

Turning your head, you’re met with the image of a group of rambunctious boys joking down the hallway towards you. They were laughing and shouting so loudly that everyone in the building probably heard them. In the center of it all was Lee Chan. Gosh, the way all of his friends were doting over him and hanging onto his every word was enough to make you scoff and shift your focus back onto what drink you’d be choosing from the vending machine. 

You heard several girls whispering to each other saying things like “What I’d do for Lee Chan to just look at me” and “One time he held the door for me at the library, I haven’t stopped thinking about it since”. Hearing them talk like that made you physically ill. He’s just a person, a human being...and he isn’t that special anyway. You’ll admit that he’s attractive, you’d be lying if you said anything other than that. He also is quite intelligent, always earning A’s on his essays in the class you share.  But his personality is just...yuck. The way he never pays attention in class, constantly on his phone texting whatever girl he is baiting that week with no reprimand from the professor. The constant offers from all girls on campus to perform every task and errand for him. The general lack of care for anyone, but himself...he’s not really your favorite individual on campus to say the least. 

Not to mention the way he always tries to one-up you in class. You’ll proudly own up to the fact that you’re a good student, amazing even. You pay attention, never miss a class, and raise your hand almost always to answer any question the professor throws your way. But every time, Chan just has to go and say the exact same answer as you, just in a better way. Of course, causing him to receive all the praise from your professor and earning an adoring gaze from the girls in the class. There are no words to describe how much this infuriates you. Especially the cocky smirk he throws your way after the professor says, “Great answer, Chan, I couldn’t have said it better myself!”. 

As the frustration due to your thoughts grew, you were ripped away as someone leaned up against the vending machine, mere inches from where you were standing. Speak of the devil. 

“Hey, Y/N, ready for class today?” Chan asks you, with that same cocky smirk on his face that you’ve, unfortunately, grown so used to seeing. As if the sight of his lips raising is a trigger for you, a fire starts deep within you, annoyance, and frustration growing every second you’re in his presence. Rolling your eyes, you ignore him and raise your hand to press the button on the machine and finally make your selection. Before you had the chance for your finger to collide with the plastic, Chan beat you to it and pressed the glowing white button for mint tea.

Speechless, you simply scoffed and looked at him with wide eyes, not believing he just did that. Who does that?! “Take it easy, babe. Don’t act so offended, you know you were going to get mint tea anyway. You get it almost every day before class,” Chan says casually, leaning his head back against the machine, chewing the gum in his mouth with a smile.

As much as you hate to admit it to yourself, he was right. You were going to get the mint tea, it’s your favorite...and it’s a little weird that he knew that. Just to spite him, you respond, “Actually, I was going to get strawberry milk today, but I guess I’ll have to settle for this instead since you took it upon yourself to decide for me”. The annoyance in your voice was evident, but if Chan noticed, he didn’t let it show on his face. He leans down and grabs the bottle of tea out of the machine, not breaking eye contact with you the whole time. The tension could be cut with a knife and you knew his group of friends standing several feet away and the group of girls gawking at you both could feel it as well.

Standing up, he extends the bottle towards you saying, “Then let me make it up to you then” with yet another cocky smirk, paired his eyes trailing your body up and down. Your face twists into a look that says ‘That was the cringiest thing I’ve ever heard, also I am incredibly grossed out’. 

“Uh, no thanks,” you say, grabbing the mint tea from his hand and walking down the hallway, hearing his friends teasing him by saying, “Oooo” and no doubt giving him joking punches on the shoulder. 

Your mind was a scrambled mess from the interaction you just had. Who does he think he is? Does he think every girl on this campus is begging for his attention?! In all honesty, you wish he would just ignore you so you wouldn’t have to deal with his antics and casual flirtation. It infuriates you to no end and quite honestly keeps you up at night thinking about how he believes he runs this campus. 

Making your way into the classroom, you quickly slide into your unassigned-assigned seat in the front row, trying to pull out your notebook and pen all while attempting to organize your thoughts and irritation about whatever that conversation was you just had. You let out a large sigh as you flip to the next open page in your notebook and the professor begins class, giving you a scolding look for the huff of air you let out to express your exasperation. As you begin to jot down some general notes about what the prof is saying, you notice he who must not be named enters the classroom.

 “Oh, Chan! I’m glad you could make it,” your professor cheerily says as Chan saunters in.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Chan responds, flashing a bright smile. This causes yet another heavy breath to leave you as you shake your head at your professor’s naivety and how simple it is for him to be charmed. You realize Chan is making his way over to pass you in order to find his own seat. Looking down at your notebook to continue taking writing and ignoring the close proximity of your least favorite person, you notice something is slid onto your desk as he walks by.

Strawberry milk.

You couldn’t help the blush that crept up your face. You quickly grab it, tossing it into your backpack, hoping no one saw. Confusion and shock flood your head as you simply stare at the board in front of you. What was his goal with that? Probably another one of his flirtation tactics, no doubt. Did that actually work on other girls?! The bar is so low, apparently. You turn around to hopefully catch Chan’s gaze and give him a confused and weirded out expression, but when you turn around he’s simply leaned back in his chair, listening to the professor, seemingly bored out of his mind. You know he knows you’re looking at him and is just refusing to meet your eyes. Narrowing your eyes at him, you whip your head back around to focus on the lecture. There is no way you were going to let Lee Chan of all people distract you.

As the class was drawing to a close, your professor announced, “I’m trying something new for the final this semester. Instead of taking an exam, as students have done in the past, I’m going to be placing you into groups to complete a presentation”. He was met with groans from students like you who would just prefer to study on their own and get it over with by taking a test, but there were also silent celebrations from students who think that a group project means less work for them. However, only one thought was racing through your mind:

Do not put me with Lee Chan.

“I will go ahead and read off who your partners are, then you will be dismissed. The directions for this assignment will be posted on our class website later tonight and we’ll discuss it more next time we meet. Well, I won’t keep you waiting”, he explains and begins to read off the names. It’s embarrassing to admit but you were literally hiding your hands in your sleeves and crossing your fingers that you wouldn’t be paired with Chan. It might seem dramatic and a drastic measure to take. He can’t be that bad, right? Wrong. You’d heard rumors about his poor work ethic in group projects. That combined with his overall playboy aura is not a good match for you. 

“Lee Chan and Y/N Y/L/N,” your professor says. It’s like your mind is frozen. Of course, this would happen to you. Just your luck. You didn’t even pay attention to the final words your professor had to say before wrapping up class because you were dreading having to do an entire project all by yourself.

As you closed your notebook and began to pack away your things, you felt someone standing near you. With a sigh, you look up knowing exactly who it is.

There he was, standing with his hands in his jean pockets and that cocky smirk making yet another appearance. Rolling your eyes, you sling your backpack over your shoulder and stand up, grabbing your phone.

“What’s your number?” you bluntly ask, not so much as a question and more of a demand.

“Oh, how the tables have turned,” Chan says with a laugh, grabbing your phone to enter his number in. His fingertips grazed your hand as he gently took it from your grasp. You’d never admit that it made your heart skip a beat or two, though.

He finishes typing in his number and as he is handing your phone back, he suggests, “Let’s get lunch or something to talk about the project”. You started walking away from him halfway through his sentence, causing him to trail off at the end. 

“No,” you call out as you walk out of the classroom. “I’ll text you.”

Not going to lie, you kind of felt like a badass. Chan deserved a taste of his own medicine and you’re just the lucky person who gets to give it to him. 

You make your way to a local coffee shop a little way down the road, mentally preparing to deal with customers and make beverages until the late hours of the night. Entering the backroom to set your things down and tie your apron on, making your way out to behind the counter to begin your workday.

The hours dragged on and on, filled with heating up pastries and making cappuccinos until it was 10:30pm and there were only thirty minutes left until close. There were a few people in the shop, working on their laptops, or having a chat with a friend. It was around this time of night, you started to clean up behind the counter and prepare everything for those who open the store the next morning.

You bent down to grab a square bucket from under the counter and a damp rag, heading over to clear off several tables from customers who had recently left. As you’re placing some plates into the bucket, you hear the doorbell jingle, signaling that someone has entered.

“One moment, I’ll be with you in-” you begin, but look up to see Chan. You suck in a sharp breath of air as he walks toward you with that damn smirk on his face. You continue to gather the dishes from the table, hoping that maybe he would just go wait by the register. Wishful thinking on your part as he comes over puts a hand on the table, leaning on it and tilting his head to get a better look at you.

“What do you want, Chan?” you monotonously say, not drifting your attention from clearing the table.

“Well, I tried texting you, but you didn’t respond,” he explains.

“Uh, yeah because I’m working,” you respond matter-of-factly. You finish wiping down the table and lift up the bucket to go over to the next table. Chan takes the bucket from your hands and you look at him with the most confused expression, but he just motions for you to go on to the next table. You shake your head in more confusion, but accept it and go on with him trailing behind you, hauling the heavy bucket of dishes.

“Yeah, that’s why I came here,” he continues the conversation as he sets the bucket down on the next table. You stop cleaning and look at him with yet another confused expression. How does he even know you work here? He must have been able to tell what you were thinking by the look on your face because he says, “I like coming here and I see you here, so”. 

No matter how weirded out or confused you were, you carried on, “Why did you even need to talk to me in the first place?”

“Oh, I already have our presentation outlined and in a PowerPoint. We just have to do some research and put it all together,” he casually says. You don’t know who said that he has a poor work ethic in group projects, but apparently, they were wrong. 

“Thanks,” you respond simply and head back behind the counter, with Chan following you yet again. 

“We’re meeting on Thursday at 4:00 to finish it,” he says as he lifts the glass cake stand and grabs a blueberry muffin, starting to dig in. 

Rolling your eyes, you reply, “Thursday doesn’t work for me. I also hope you’re planning on playing for that”.

“Oh, no, I figured it was on the house,” he sarcastically teases. You give him a stern gaze and he continues, “Of course I’m going to pay for it, I don’t want to get you in trouble or anything”. You don’t know why, but that made you kind of...blush. And you hoped he didn’t see.

“Anyway, why can’t you do Thursday?” he casually says, still picking chunks off of the muffin and eating them.

“I have plans, Chan. News flash: the world doesn’t revolve around you,” you retort as you begin to clean the coffee machines.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s your world, I’m just living in it,” he says as if it didn’t mean anything. What did it mean? It’s not like people just say that casually. At least you’ve never heard people say that about people casually. You barely had any time to think more about it when you heard him say a little quieter, “Do you have a date or something on Thursday?”

Your heart began to race...and what for?? Was he...jealous? Why would he be asking if you had a date? Why would he care? “No, I don’t have a date,” you respond. At that, you see Chan’s head perk up.

“Okay, well how about Wednesday, then? I could do like...5:00?” he says.

“Yeah, that works,” you reply, looking towards him and giving him a small smile. A facial expression you never thought you’d be giving Lee Chan. There was just something about the way his eyes lit up...and that damn smirk…

“Alright, then,” he says while reaching into his pocket and pulling out a bill, placing it on the counter to pay for the muffin he took. Making his way to the front of the shop to exit, he turned around to say, “It’s a date”. 

And there you are, left a blushing mess behind the counter. Waiting for Wednesday at 5:00.

[kartoffelblume]

Lift me from the ground

Chapter 1 A

Teaser | Chapter 1 B

Engel

For a first day it was okay. No one seemed outright mean and most of what the profs said made her even more exited about this year.

But most of the other students looked so cool - way too cool to be her friend.

Somehow she wishes at least one of her friends would study with her. But none of them are that much into fashion design so she's alone.

So far at least. Maybe she should have just talked to someone - she wouldn't find any friends sitting on her own.

Maybe she should try asking Janna again if she'd join. Engel isn't sure about her particular talent when it comes to fashion but at least she's able to experiment and improvise. And that shitty car she bought after working over the summer probably wouldn't last long anyway.

She just decided to get her phone to ask her how she's doing so far when a soft voice rips her from her thoughts.

"Can I sit here?"

When she looks up there's a girl. Short dark hair, piercings in her ears and nose, soft brown eyes and a really cute smile.

"Oh.. Of course."

Engel should have known that a place as beautiful as this so close to the university would already belong to some cool kid.

She found the spot at the small river on accident when strolling around with no destination in mind and was instantly enamored by how beautifully the water flowed and how sheltered it looked between the threes.

Should she make some room for the dark haired girl?

But the girl just slips out of her shoes and sits down next to her to let her feet hang into the refreshing water as well, their legs almost touching.

It's quiet for a moment, Engel desperately tries not to stare at the girl sitting almost too close to her.

She's damn beautiful. Her nose ring reminds Engel that she wanted a piercing just like that but never felt brave enough to actually do it.

"So... Are you in the first year as well?"

The girls soft voice breaks the silence and Noor can't help but to turn towards her again.

"Yeah... This was my first day"

The girl smiles in a way that makes Engels heart flutter so she smiles back.

"Mine too... Made any friends yet?"

Engel lightly shakes her head.

"Well now you made one. I'm Noor."

Noor.

In some way it fits, it captures the entire aesthetic. Also it's somehow beautiful.

"I'm Engel"

Noor looks almost surprised.

"Really? That fits almost too good!"

"Why?"

Noor laughs, a warm laugh that feels like being wrapped in a really good hug.

"Because you look almost like an Angel"

She announces it so easily that for a moment Engel is sure she misheard something.

"Oh... Thank you?"

Was this even a compliment? Or was that supposed to mean she looks boring?

But Noor just keeps smiling.

"So what are you studying?"

"Fashion design"

"Wow - That's really cool! I was thinking about that too!"

It would be really cool if Noor would study fashion as well - they could sit next to each other and they could design something...

"So what are you studying then that's better than fashion design?"

Noor laughs at that, her eyes sparkling.

"I wouldn't say better, but maybe better for me. Just art. I have a few classes in dance choreography and also a few in fashion design so maybe we'll meet there."

That definitely sounds exciting. Engel can't help but to start asking questions and soon they're caught up in a deep discussion about art and fashion.

It's so easy to talk to Noor - she never makes Engel feel dumb for asking questions. Instead she asks plenty of them herself.

Also she laughs a lot. Always in that really warm way.

But then, in the middle of discussing the meaning of green Noor checks her phone and there is an apologetic look on her face.

"I should head home again."

While she proceeds to get up her hand softly moves over Engels bare leg. Probably by accident.

Or maybe not by accident.

"But if you feel like seeing me - I'll probably help setting up the couples dance classes this semester."

She smiles and then just leaves, her shoes still in her hand.

"I'll be there" Engel shouts behind Noor who turns around one last time with a wide smile on her lips.

Engel watches her until she turns a corner and is gone.

Couples dance classes... Sounds like she has to convince Luc to join with her.

-

When she opens the front door of their flat she is instantly surrounded by music, a song she recognizes easily because they have been listening to it a lot together.

She quickly gets rid of her shoes and follows the melody into the kitchen where Luc is dancing with closed eyes.

Instead of greating him she just joins in to the dancing, closes her eyes and sways to the music.

It's easy with Luc. She never thinks about what he could possibly think about her when she's with him. That's why they have an array of weird habits developed - like dancing in the kitchen together.

When he opens his eyes and grins she finally asks.

"What would you think about joining couples dance class?"

Her plan was to bring it up somewhere in the middle of the conversation - probably after they told each other about their days but instead she had to blurt it out as soon as she got the chance.

The result is confusion written all over Lucs face.

"What?"

Patiently she repeats. "Couples dance class"

The confusion doesn't get any less.

"Why?"

Engel trys to quickly think about some convincing reason to go.

"It's super cool to learn some actual dancing. And it won't be too different from our usual kitchen dancing anyway."

It'll probably be quite different.

Luc seems to think the same as he raises his eyebrows.

"You think so?"

She tries her best at an enthusiastic nod.

"Yeah and it's a really good opportunity to meet people on campus."

Still his eyebrows are furrowed.

"You don't think making friends in our classes will be enough?"

Engel lets out a deep sigh.

"Come on - I'm sure it's gonna be lots of fun!"

The answer is just a groan.

"Luc, please!"

He stills for a moment, really thinking about her idea for the first time.

"I'm not sure... There are enough people already thinking we are a couple, wouldn't it only get worse? And why dancing out of all possibilities?"

Looks like she has to change tactics.

"Okay, okay... There's a girl..."

His face lightens up visibly.

"Now we're talking! Tell me about her!"

With a sigh she sits down on the kitchen table to start telling him about her encounter with Noor earlier today - about how she really really wanted to see her again, and if it's just to find a friend.

Luc rolls his eyes at that comment and hes probably right, by the way Engel couldn't keep her thoughts from the dark haired girl the entire few hours since they met probably tells a lot.

Maybe Engel really wants to see her again just to be around her, just to hear her laugh and see her smile.

But maybe, just maybe Noor wants to see her again for the same reason

[jj-lives]

Inktober - Enchanted (bmblb)

I did it! Two in one day!!! It’s late here so sorry if there are mistakes. 

--------------------------------- Dragging her feet, Yang felt her exhaustion start to take over. She brought her coffee to her lips and took a couple big swigs. She did not have time for sleep. As she came to the front entrance of the library another student stepped out. He saw Yang approach and held the door for her.  

“Thanks.” 

The smell of books assailed her the moment she made it passed the entrance. It was a surprisingly comforting smell. Yang spent so much time there this semester it was more of her first home instead of her second. She had a long night of studying ahead of her which she was not looking forward to.

Making her way to her usual spot on the second floor Yang was disappointed to see it taken by a group of four students. With one last longing gaze at her favourite nook she turned to try to find a replacement. The rest of the second floor was packed and she had just as much luck on the third. Climbing to the fourth floor Yang prayed for just one quiet little corner to settle down in.  

Yang was about to give up after a quick initial inspection of the fourth floor. Her mind was made up to check the lower floors one more time before maybe finding a late night coffee shop to study in instead. Just as she was going to give up she noticed the arm of a chair in a half hidden alcove. Making her way towards it she realized the space consisted of two chairs, a couch and a small table in the middle. It was the perfect study spot. Yang berated herself for not finding it before. She’d gone to classes here for almost two years now. Why was she just now finding it?

The only negative was that the sanctuary was already occupied. A girl sat sideways on the couch with a book in her lap. Her backpack resting by her feet. She looked up at Yang’s approach giving Yang pause. In the darkened alcove the girl’s eyes seemed to glow bright gold as they took in the stranger before them. It didn’t help that the girl’s other features were obscured by the dark curtain of long hair framing her face. 

“Hi,” Yang tried, not knowing what else to do. The unnerved feeling of being scrutinized never dissipating. A pull at the side of the girls mouth was all she received in greeting. “Do you mind If I share this space? Everywhere else is full.”

The girl shrugged her shoulders and turned back to the book in her lap. Since she didn’t directly disagree Yang jumped at the opportunity to settle down with her own books. Sitting on the chair across from the stranger she spread out her books and got to work.  

It was over an hour before movement from the couch drew her attention. The other girl had been so quiet Yang almost forgot about her. She blushed knowing she’d been talking to herself not that long ago thinking she’d been alone. Lifting her arms above her head the girl leaned into the arm of the couch to stretch. Back arching she let out a relieved sigh.

Half expecting this abrupt movement to indicate the girl was leaving Yang was surprised when she reached into her bag and pulled out another book and immediately started reading again.

“Did you finish that last one? It was huge!” Yang blurted.

“Yeah, guess I’m just a fast reader.” The girl replied. Her tone was dry, making Yang feel as if she should explain.

“No. I didn’t mean to question your reading ability.” She started. “I just feel sorry for you is all.”

“Why?” the girl asked, turning her attention from the book to Yang.

“Because whichever Prof assigned those two monster books should be shot.”

Flipping the book shut, the girl took in the cover art. She appeared to think hard about her next words.  “This isn’t for a class. I read these on my spare time.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?” She copied and Yang realized she didn’t approve of her response.

“I just thought everyone in the library would be studying. You could read for fun at home where it’s more comfortable, couldn’t you?”

“I could, but my roommate is pretty loud. The library is quiet and hardly anyone bothers me in this corner.”

“Sorry.” 

“Don’t apologize.” Her glowing irises returned to Yang. “Besides some mumbled curses you’ve been pretty quiet.”

Not wanting to focus too much on the issues that might arise on the topic of her talking to herself she thought a change of subject was due.

“What are the books about?”

“Nothing.” The girl responded sharply. 

“Oh come on. You wouldn’t spend hours reading a book about nothing.” Yang smiled across the table.

“Fine. Nothing you would be interested in.” 

“If you won’t tell me what the book is about, could you tell me the title at least?”

“Ava’s Secret.” She looked at her watch and groaned. “Gotta go.” 

“I didn’t mean to chase you away. I can go back to being silent.” 

“It’s not you. I just have somewhere I need to be.” she said hurriedly as she placed the book back in her bag and shouldered it. 

Yang still had a gut feeling the girl was running because she’d distracted her.  Wasn’t that the thing she was at the library to avoid in the first place?

“Okay, bye.” was Yang’s sad reply. She either didn’t hear the other girl’s response or she hadn’t bothered giving one.

“Ava’s Secret,” Yang mouthed. 

Was that the name of the book or was the mystery girl’s name Ava and the title was her secret?

The unknown bothered her so much that twenty minutes of failing to concentrate on her chemistry text forced her to search the book title.  

It was in fact the title of the book. After reading the summary Yang became more intrigued. The book was definitely of the Fantasy genre as it contained magic and dragons and other magical creatures.  The fact the antagonist was a girl fascinated her. Most of these kinds of books always had a knight coming to some damsal’s aid. The plot of Ava being cursed but pulling her own resources and trying to reverse the enchantment captivated her further.

Besides, if the mystery girl enjoyed them so much she could sit and read them for hours on end they must not be horrible.

She saved the webpage in her phone and made a note to pick up the first book in the series to check out.  Yang was put out that the girl had written her taste of book off. Just because she was blonde didn’t mean she was a bimbo.  It didn’t mean she couldn’t like nerdy things like magic and dragons.  She loved dragons. 

She was a dragon. 

If she ever saw that girl again she would throw that book in her face. She would prove to her that she was wrong to make assumptions about people based on their physical appearance.

[musicbizgradstud]

week ONE - kinda (you’ll see what i mean)

Wowzers. We are really out here. I would content that this is the end of the first week. I got to meet my classmates, take one class, do an assload of reading and meet my first classmate IRL. And I’ve done some thinking about what the hell this program is about. Some of which has been really nice and wholesome, and some of which leaves me with a lot of question marks. 

=]

Okay just took a hit from my blunt lets goooo. 

It’s 2020 and I’m a college student. My school luckily has been fairly communicative about the “expectations.” So pretty early on in the summer we knew that we were going to be online. That this was going to be a virtual exchanges. Now I’ll admit that I had a fair share of blind optimism of it all going to be “fine” and it all going to “work out great.” Without giving too much thought to what any of that would really feel like or mean. So as people were asking me what it’s like or how I was feeling about it, I found that question complicated because I Was figuring what i wanted my answer to be, but i didn’t know if I was going to like it. (I guess i wanted to like my answer which wasn’t the question. ah well.)

I met with a second year student to buy some books from them (side not buy the 2nd edition of winogradskys book, trust me). They were a little older, did a career pivot and entered the program. The previous career was not related to music at all. They had an internship turned job, a research gig, and managing “a few” artists. ONE YEAR. HALF OF IT IN A PANDEMIC. now i don’t know the steps, pace or how it went down. I just feel compelled to say that a lot happened and as I see this person next I’ll comment that I just am flabbergasted that they accomplished so much. Was the info they got from classes that helpful? Did they have a rich friend? Did the profs turn it out? I have some thoughts. 

**so classes did a lot to simulate thought, provide examples, and share information. So for this particular student, they emphasized the extra-circular aspect as what was important. The classes provided them tons of the nuts and bolts. Contracts, parts of the business, publishing, rights mgmt. There were lots of shows. (This is what i see as the kicker) Going to shows is where you could see people participating in their projects. Meet/see their friends who are in their orbit. Get an idea of how the world turns in a few different scenes. Through that, since you’re more or less an adult, you can make those kind of contacts faster. People just generally seem more interested in what you do, and trying to find tethers or connections b/t them and you. Sometimes it turns into a coffee. Or a biz meeting. But at the shows, people are chill. people are down to chat with randos. As a music business student, you can totally market your skills as a manger. You basically see the world of music and the ways it makes money. Great managers want to make money. So as a graduate educating/ed strapping young manager, you have a leg above other young strapping managers. And for the internship, depending on the program, I can actually see lots of companies wanting to keep people around for more than a semester if the work they do is good. It might not be full-time or dream paychecks, but it gets your resume started and due to inertia, you may be able to stick around. it is also, as a side note, helpful in terms of creating a center of gravity. 

CENTER OF GRAVITY: When I worked in coffee, after about a year and a half, I had built my center. I worked for a certain company full-time so i spend lots of hours there. People who worked for other companies in the same industry would come through. The ones I was friendly with I would take more care to say hi and hear about how they’re doing. On my days off, I would visit them at their jobs, and even at the later stages, I would be interacting with them On a professional2professional basis. As my company grew and our “scene” grew, as I would be building my week to week schedule all things felt in sync. Going out was an easy thing to arrange, getting people together was simple to arrange because everyone’s life rhymed. All ended work at a certain point. All started basically around the same time. All encountered similar day to day #1 world probz. There were also natural breaks where when i needed to get away to visit a friend or different group, i could break the rhyme and rejoin it almost effortlessly. So in regards to music. Once that rhyme gets established, your work breeds interaction with local people/places/activities/cultural moments/movements etc. Then you take those common understandings to others who work, and your play becomes an extension of your work, but in a meaningful way (you choose who you’re cool with to chill). You figure out what is the “go-to” hangout, you are socialized enough to be comfortable making choices that suit your needs. Not feeling overly worried about what a decision might mean or if it’ll negatively effect you. Life becomes similar. Then as my world felt more established, it even felt easier to meet other people. They saw my life and its patterns and I could glimpse and see theirs.

What is fascinating right now is that I am getting used to a completely different style. I don’t understand it. I don’t know where I fit. I don’t even know if there is a fit right now. 

 We finally when they hosted orientation for all 30 of us last Monday. The moment where I would meet the next “cohort” of professionals entering the music industry. It was an hour long zoom call with 30+ participants. 30 of us students and four or so faculty/staff members. It was hectic and gnarly to say the least. So many new faces, marred with expectations of what I thought they were going to be like meeting the reality. Lots of working people. I think what is pretty evident is that with the exception of three or so students, of those working in music right now, everyone is loaded with the side hustles. Being a “project manager/marketer/label mgmt/etc. Etc.” To some of those people I’m just amazed that they feel they have enough time to dedicate to full-time school. We did a little ice breaker where we did names, where were calling from, undergrad degree, “fun fact” (I h8 fun facts. Like what the fuck). I didn’t take notes, but I saw the whirl of information, people and backgrounds from all over the place. There were no two similar people. It was actually pretty beautiful. The power that this cohort can have on sheer experience alone is pretty fab.

///

First class was hilarious because we all reintroduced ourselves (kind of for the prof), but in a big way for all of us. We got to see faces, hear names and context. So no hate here. The prof had sent out  three questions to keep in mind. These questions lead me to do additional research outside of the assigned readings. So i had a jumbled pil;e of thoughts assembled and the prof started a question as a line of thinking. Difficult to track where the conversation was going, I saw classmates pipe in, sharing experiences, thoughts, real-world examples. I was just fit to be tied. I had so many thoughts. I didn’t voice a single one because i dind’t know how to use the technology to my advantage. (Next time i’ll use the chat to pipe in an additional thought, but if i have an urgent or concept changing idea i’ll raise my hand. 

The debate was 1st amendment protections vs. copyright. Copyright is a limited length monopoly over a creative work. 1st amendment rights guarantees an individual the right to express themselves w/o worry of damnation. But what if what you want to express is a copyrighted material? Well. There are a few things that the law sets up to give temporary lapse to that limited monopoly. Sadly, systematically those lapses in the law, have generally benefited white creators/performers and left behind style-defining black and colored creators. The law not benefitted them as a Jim Crow feeling law. But as a problem with how the law was interpreted and acted on by companies in the scene. How they used the law to make a profit. To give an example. Little Richard is often considered the father of rock and roll. The ways in which he influenced later generations is unparalleled. Set up an industry that is making millions of millions of dollars. Talk about cultural relevance right? You would think someone (or their estate) that has their style and influence in so many places would be sitting pretty. Well. The law only guarantees you to so much. If you were a songwriter, you are compensated for a number of rights. Public performance/mechanicals etc. These rates are set by the government. You can calculate pretty easily where your payout is. But it is ONLY for a few streams.Right now the rates are pretty low, they’ve been set low for a long time.So lets say you are lucky and you are Also the recording artist.well cool! You get another pot of royalty money from the exploitation of your recording which contains your vocal flair, aesthetic energy. It’s great. Those rates are also set, but in a private negotiations. So your rate could be pretty high. Oh you also get lump sums of money against advance so there is cash flow™️. The other advantage is that if you aren’t the songwriter, you can benefit almost seemingly MORE than the writer because you have streams that are attached to you because you offered a “performacne” of it and that is what sticks with audiences. So sadly songs written, stylished and performed by little Richard originally can be re-purposed, re-recorded basically copying and the songwriter is obliged to allow you to do this. In fact publishing companies really can’t give an F. They get additional mechanical royalties but it just *FEELS* wrong. You can copy a Black artists style, voice and dance moves for the profit of your creative pursuit and only compensate them in a monetary way that for the record is *incredibly* low for the sheer amount of value that is being copied? 

That’s the delimemma that i want to paint this week. there are a number of these things that just feel wrong, but due to the protections that the law provides, it is perfectly legal and oftentime encouraged by capitalism to do. So the behavior becomes justified and left alone. 

So value. Where does it come from? How is it recognized in this moment? Who is it taking from? How are they apart of this chain? Do they know or communicate with who they’re coping? The “recorded-music-part” of the music industries future will have to answer these questions. Is it fair? How could it change? Makes me want to work in rights management to really understand how these decisions are getting maid. So maybe a publisher, that new org that is going to disperse mechanicals really really interests me. So maybe I’ll work for them :) 

Alright That’s all for now. Looking to meet more peopleIRL. People have their head in the game. Everyone who I’ve met does have their head in the game, but I can’t wait to meet more. Talk soon. 

[kpophours]

A Lucky Puppy

➵ VAV: (werewolf) Ziu x fem. reader / one shot / werewolf AU, college AU / fluff

➵ warnings: mentions of alcohol, slight mentions of violence (car crash resulting in death), slight cursing 

➵ word count: 4.9k

➵ series: Baron, Ayno, St. Van, Ziu, Lou, Ace

Tightly clutching a leaflet with the campus map in your right hand, you gaze around the big entrance hall, a slightly confused expression on your face. You're pretty sure you're already in the right building, but finding the right room proves to be more difficult than anticipated. You sigh, nervously gnawing on your lip. You could obviously ask for help, but you don't know anyone here so far, being one of the new foreign exchange students this semester. 

“Are you looking for room 407 as well?", a male voice beside you suddenly asks, making you jump. You turn around and are greeted by a shy smile. The man beside you is tall, way taller than you, has light brown hair and wide, dark eyes. He's ridiculously handsome. 

"Uh, yeah. You're an exchange student as well?", you reply nervously, returning his smile carefully.

"Yes, I'm from China. You can call me Jacob.", he answers, stretching out his hand for you to shake - which you do, before giving him your name as well. "Well, let's just try to find the room together then, shall we?" 

You nod in confirmation, quickly following him.

After a few more minutes though, Jacob loses his last bit of patience and finally asks a young man with bright pink hair to point you both in the right direction. Thanks to this, you're only a few minutes late to the gathering of all exchange students. Still, everyone in the room turns towards you both, making your cheeks flame bright red. Jacob simply nods curtly at everyone, before pulling you with him towards the last free chairs directly in the front row. You guess those seats are unpopular with students no matter their origin. You sigh silently, before taking the chair beside Jacob. 

"Well, I guess that's everyone then.", a woman in her late forties says, clapping her hands together, "Welcome, new students - and thank you for choosing our redeemed university as part of your exchange experience. We're very happy to have you here. My name is Professor Ateamme and I'm in charge of the exchange program this year." 

"I didn't choose anything.", Jacob murmurs quietly and you raise both eyebrows in a silent question. He shrugs. "Generations of my family have spent at least one year at this university, so I didn't have much of a choice."

You just nod, redirecting your attention back to Prof. Ateamme.

After rattling down information after information, you quickly notice your attention wavering - your thoughts turning towards other things. You almost miss her announcement: "Now it's time to assign everyone here a buddy, who’s going to be in charge of making your stay as pleasant as possible. Please don't hesitate to ask them for help - everyone here is more than eager to make you feel welcomed, that's why they decided to become part of this program."

Students are filtering into the room, most sport a bright smile or are nodding at you foreign students. You gaze at Jacob, who scowls slightly. "I don't need a buddy.", he says lowly so only you're able to hear him. 

You grin at him. "I think it's a great idea - that way we're quickly meeting other people.", you whisper back. 

He just shrugs. "I already know you. Don't you think that's enough?" 

You snort at his awkward attempt at flirting and roll your eyes in a playful manner. 

„Did you hear about the female student who was killed in a car crash not long ago, just around the corner of this campus?“, Jacob suddenly asks. You shake your head, goosebumps rising on your arms while he quickly tells you the story: „My roommate told me about her, apparently she was supposed to be a buddy for this program, too. I just suddenly thought of her… If that drunk idiot hadn’t hit her, she would be here today. It’s just… I don’t know, weird. And sad. Really sad.“ 

You notice he really does look heartbroken about it - apparently he didn’t want to gossip about the death, he really was just thinking about her. It instantly makes you like him even more, but before you can say anything to him, you feel someone's eyes on you. 

When you look up, you see dark eyes boring into yours - the young man is around your age, has bright red hair (definitely dyed, there's no way that's his real hair color) and a blindingly bright smile. 

You stare at him, confused at why your heart suddenly starts hammering against your ribcage. A weird feeling spreads through your whole body, but you try to push it aside and quickly look away from the handsome man.

Thanks to that, you don't even notice that the assigning of buddies has already begun - suddenly, the red-haired student is standing in front of you. "I heard you're in need of a buddy - so here I am!", he says loudly, stretching one hand towards you, "I'm Ziu." 

You gaze up at him, your heart beginning to hammer again. "Uh. Hi." 

A shocking eloquence on your part. 

You clear your throat, already feeling a blush creeping on your cheeks, "I'm Y/N. And yeah, I guess I do need a buddy." Your eyes quickly scan the room, but apparently, everyone else's already taken - even Jacob is talking to a buddy sporting violet hair and round glasses. 

Seriously, what's up with these crazy hair colors today?, you think to yourself, finally looking back at Ziu.  

"Then we're a team now!", he says enthusiastically, when you finally shake his hand. 

You can't help but smile, his enthusiasm infectious. 

"I guess we are.", you answer a bit more reserved, quickly snatching your hand back before you can notice how good him holding it actually feels.

He just grins at you, somehow looking a bit smug.

"So you met your mate. That's... that's a good thing, isn't it?"

Ziu sighs deeply. "In general? Yes. Like this? No."

Ayno and Dawon exchange a confused look. 

"She's an exchange student... So she'll go back to her home country in a few months.", Ziu elaborates further, "That means we'll be apart for who knows how long."

"Oh. I guess werewolves aren't really good at long distance relationships, huh?", Dawon says sympathetically. 

"No! Not at all.", the younger man whines, dramatically flailing himself back onto his bed and pressing his face into one of the pillows, uttering a small scream. He’s glad to have the two young warlocks as his neighbors and close friends, their powers actually often coming in handy (even though he must admit he was quite shocked to find out about them being supernatural creatures as well just a few weeks ago - he’s also still not too sure about the red hair suiting him, but so far Ayno hasn’t found a spell to undo the accidental dyeing-curse he set on the young werewolf without making Ziu go completely bald).

"Life's funny like that sometimes.", Dawon mutters, gently patting his friend's back.

"Not helping.", Ziu's muffled voice retorts. 

"Is there a spell for... I don't know, deactivating the mating bond?", Ayno thinks out loud, which results in Ziu hitting him with a pillow. 

"Don't you dare touch my mating bond! Do you know how special this is?! There aren't many werewolves who actually find their mate, so don't even think about looking for a spell! And I’m not taking any dating advice from someone who does absolutely nothing about the crush he has on his research partner."

Ayno looks a bit perplexed, before throwing the pillow back at Ziu. "Relax, it was just an idea. We won't touch your mating bond."

The red-haired man huffs, crossing both arms over his chest. "Yeah, you better."

Dawon sighs and shakes his head. "I don't think we can be of any help to you right now. Apart from getting drunk with you, obviously."

Ziu raises his head at this. „That actually sounds like a very good idea right now."

As you soon find out, Ziu is a really amazing buddy.

He helps you a lot, actually, especially in the beginning - drawing you adorable little maps to help you find the right buildings (you save every single one of those in a small card box on your desk), showing up to eat with you during lunch hours and helping you find some of your college textbooks for nearly half the price.

Even though his character is quite the opposite of yours (often reminding you of an over-excited puppy with his never-ending enthusiasm and overall loud personality), you still really enjoy being around him.

You quickly become friends, often hanging out together, sometimes together with his neighbors Ayno and Dawon, who's been assigned as Jacob's buddy; but mostly it’s just the two of you. 

It doesn't take long for Jacob to begin teasing you about your close friendship with the redhead, the Chinese exchange student being one of your closest friend by now.

„So, when's your husband coming over tonight?“, Jacob asks while you’re hanging out one evening in early November.

You don't even answer, just retorting to (kind of) gently smack the back of his head.

"Ouch! That hurt!" 

You grin, satisfied with yourself and continue to watch Queer Eye, Jacob pouting beside you. 

"Why are we watching that again?", he asks a few seconds later, making you roll your eyes at him.

You know he secretly loves that show, actually having a soft spot for all of the Fab Five.

„You either shut up or you leave. Don't you have to get ready for your date this evening, too?", you finally say, hitting the pause button. Jacob gasps, whipping his head around and looking at the clock hanging above your desk.

"Ah, damn. I nearly forgot about that... I better should get going now. I definitely have to take a shower before meeting Clara."

You nod, wrinkling your nose. "That's the best idea you’ve had lately - you stink." 

Jacob scowls at you, trying to push you from the sofa. "I do not!"

You giggle, shoving him back. "Yes, you do!", you answer in the same childish voice, jumping up and trying to escape his fingers from tickling you.

"Take that back!", Jacob threatens when he finally catches you, poking your sides and making you laugh - you're definitely way too ticklish. 

"No!", you just manage to gasp out, trying to escape him again and failing. Tears are coming out of your eyes by now and you're gasping for breath. Jacob just laughs at you, continuing his torture with no thought of stopping any time soon.

„Uh… what’s going on?", a perplexed voice coming from your door suddenly asks. You interrupt your quarreling, looking at Ziu standing in the doorway, a six-pack beer and some snacks in his hands. His eyes take in the scene in front of him, face contorting slightly when he sees the way Jacob has his arms around you. 

You quickly shove Jacob away from you, blushing and pushing your hair out of your face. 

„Uh... We were just...", you struggle to come up with a good reply, but Jacob simply answers: "I was just tickling her for saying I stink. Because I do not!" With that, he scowls one last time at you, before grabbing his stuff, "And I'm leaving now. Gotta get ready for my date." 

He gently flicks your forehead, pats Ziu on one shoulder and leaves your room, shutting the door behind him. You smile at Ziu, finally noticing his new hair color. 

"What happened to the red?", you gasp, taking a step towards him and reaching out to touch the now brown strands of hair. 

He shrugs. "I grew tired of it, so I changed it. Do you... do you like it?", he asks a bit shyly, gazing into your eyes. 

You smile softly. "I would like your hair in any color.", you answer truthfully, pulling him with you towards the sofa. He drops the beer and snacks onto your small coffee table, before sitting down and sighing deeply. 

„So, Jacob has a date tonight?", he asks you, when you sit down beside him, placing one arm on the back of the sofa. You nod, unconsciously scooting a bit closer. 

Ziu smiles down at you, beginning to play with your hair. 

It makes you heart flutter, but you quickly push the feeling aside - something you've gotten quite good at these last few weeks. You don't want to have a crush on anyone at the moment, knowing it will only lead to heartbreak on both sides when you have to go back home again. Even though you've felt some kind of pull ever since first laying eyes on Ziu, you don't want to acknowledge your growing feelings in any way. But he's definitely making it harder every day, being the beautiful human inside and out that he simply is.

"You're okay with me finishing the episode?", you finally ask, nodding towards your television. 

Ziu smiles. "Sure, you know how much I love Queer Eye." 

You snuggle deeper into the cushions, hitting play and redirecting your attention towards the Fab Five.

Ziu silently observes you out of the corner of his eye. By now, he's actually contemplating if your mating bond might be broken - normally, the pull between mates is strong enough that only a few weeks pass before it's getting too strong to be ignored. Then, the human mate can either accept or reject the werewolf - which is painful, but at least not deadly (even though there are rumors that some werewolves actually died after being rejected by their mate - Ziu doesn't know if he should believe those stories or not). 

But you act like you don't even notice the pull - and... maybe that might actually be the case? Which is, at least to Ziu's knowledge, unheard of, but that doesn't mean it's impossible, right?

At the moment he's contemplating whether he should contact his pack's alpha and ask for help. But with him being one of the youngest of their pack, he’s already used to getting teased a lot (or more like way too much), so he doesn't think this to be a good idea (at least not yet). No, he wants to try other methods first.

So... Maybe he should just ask you? 

But no, if you really don't notice the pull, this could get awkward real quick.

Maybe you're in love with Jacob and that's why you don't notice the pull?

If that's the case he might just have to snap the neck of your friend, no matter the consequences.

"You know it's rude to stare, right?"

Ziu jumps, his eyes focusing back on you again. 

You sport an amused expression, both eyebrows raised and the corner of your lip curling into a smirk. 

He blushes, scratching his head. 

"Well, it's difficult not to stare when such a beautiful human like yourself sits beside me.", he replies quickly and smoothly; now you’re the one to blush. You avert your eyes, looking back at the tv screen. 

He grins and pokes your cheek. "Hey, are you ignoring me?" 

You swat his hand away, still not looking at him. "I'm not.", you mumble almost inaudible, making him laugh. 

"Are you embarrassed?", he continues to tease you. 

You grab the hand still poking your cheek and glare at him. "I'm not! I just don't like you flirting with me.", you answer fiercely, dropping his hand again and crossing your arms in front of your chest.

Ziu is actually a bit taken aback by your sudden outburst, feeling guilty.

"Sorry.", he murmurs, turning to the tv as well.

He stays silent for a few seconds, before he asks: "Don't... don't you like me?"

He hears your sharp intake of breath, sees how your eyes dart around the room in an attempt to avoid looking at him.

"Y/N. Look at me."

And so you do, Ziu getting lost in your deep eyes. "Don't you like me?", he whispers again, eyes dropping to your lips.

You swallow, heart hammering inside your chest, hands getting clammy. "I- I...", you begin, but then, Ziu is already kissing you.

You startle, eyes widening a bit before you relax into his embrace, his arms pulling you even closer. You close your eyes as well, folding both your hands over his chest and feeling how his heartbeat mirrors your own, beating fast and hard. When his tongue brushes against your lips, you shiver slightly, a tiny moan escaping you. 

You're tired of lying to yourself - you know you've already fallen fast and hard for the handsome man in front of you. 

And even though you might have to go back home in a few months - that doesn't mean you need to push him away during that time.

Right now, you just want to stay in his arms forever, not thinking about your uncertain future.

The next weeks seem to pass in the blink of an eye.

It's almost Christmas, when Ziu confesses to you in the most Ziu-ish way possible: you're out on a date in a small forest not too far away from campus, wanting to pick a tiny Christmas tree for Ziu's flat, which proves difficult thanks to your giant of a boyfriend beginning to chase you through the snow. You're giggling uncontrollably by now, somehow managing to escape him again and again by quickly darting around the trees and finally hiding behind some bushes. 

You're out of breath and feel hot thanks to all the running, so you quickly take off your knitted red bobble hat and stuff it into the pocket of your padded coat. Being distracted like this, even if it's just for a few seconds, Ziu sees his chance and tackles you to the ground, yelling happily: "I'VE GOT YOU!" 

You giggle while he presses tiny kisses on your cheeks, forehead, nose and mouth, his warm body covering yours. 

"You." - he kisses one cheek - "Are" - he kisses your other cheek - "Way" - he kisses your forehead - "Too" - he kisses your nose - "Cute!" 

With that, he finally kisses your lips, tongue brushing yours and making you taste the coffee he just had a few minutes ago, right before beginning to chase you around like a crazy person (you should've known better than to bring a thermos full of caffeine on this date, your boyfriend definitely not needing any more energy). 

You cradle his face between your hands, nuzzling your nose against his when you end the kiss. "So are you.", you answer, quickly pecking his lips. 

He smirks. "Oh, I know. I'm irresistibly cute. So I'm allowed to do this." And with that, he shoves a handful of snow right into your face, making you yell in surprise and push him off your body. 

"Oh you didn't!", you scream at your boyfriend, who's laughing hysterically and already holding some more snow in his hands. You swiftly grab some snow yourself and seconds later, you're engaged into a very serious snowball fight. 

It isn't a surprise that Ziu wins - holding you in a death-grip and shoving some more snow into your face.

"I surrender! I surrender!", you yell, struggling to escape his tight embrace.

"Tell me you love me first!", he demands teasingly and you don’t even think about it, simply blurting out: "I love you, you stupid idiot!"

Before you can register that you actually just confessed to him, Ziu has already turned you around in his arms, kissing you deeply and making your heart flutter. 

He leans his forehead against yours, breathing heavily and sporting a shit-eating grin. "I love you, too.", he says, but you play deaf. "Sorry? What was that?", you tease him back, gazing at him with round, innocent eyes. 

His smile widens, before he yells at the top of his lungs: "I LOVE YOU, Y/N!" 

You jump when some lonely birds flutter out of a tree, scared by the loud noise. You smack his arm, stifling your own grin. "Shh, are you crazy?!", you laugh, hiding your face in his chest. His arms circle you, his chest still rumbling with laughter. 

"What? It's only us out here.", Ziu says, shrugging and kissing the top of your head, "Am I not allowed to tell the world how I feel?" 

You shake your head. "Nope, you're not. You're only allowed to tell me.", you say seriously, trying to hide the mischievous glint in your eyes.

"Too bad, there's already a banner with my confession waiting for you in front of your dorm. Not forgetting the marching band playing 'I will always love you' by Whitney Houston, obviously.", Ziu answers, quickly pressing a kiss on your lips before you're able to retort something. 

You snort, shaking your head. "You're crazy.", you mumble against his lips, heart and heart full of love.

It's New Year's Eve and you and Ziu are invited to a game night hosted by Ayno and Dawon. Jacob is going to be there as well, just like Ayno's girlfriend who just happens to be one of your neighbors. 

But Ziu, who's currently laying on your bed, is not letting you leave his arms, making it impossible for you to follow the invitation of his neighbors. 

"Ziu, I'm serious! We have to leave now or we'll be late.", your voice sounds muffled thanks to your face being pressed against Ziu's chest.

"I don't care. I vote for staying in this night, so it’s just us two celebrating our first New Year as a couple."

You shake your head, freeing yourself a bit of his tight embrace. "Not gonna happen. Jacob's counting on me." 

Ziu rolls his eyes, pouting a bit. He’ll definitely never admit to it, but you know he's jealous of you spending time with Jacob - who, by now, has become something like your best friend. You find Ziu's jealousy ridiculous, simply because everyone can see how head over heels you are for the giant dork, but your boyfriend still scowls every time you even talk about Jacob. 

But if everything works out (like you think it will), this won't be a problem anymore in the very near future - Jacob told you about a new girl he met just yesterday, his eyes sparkling and lips stretching into a loving smile (because even though your friend might look all tough and manly outside, he's actually one of the biggest softies you know). 

"But there's something I need to tell you.", Ziu murmurs into your neck, pressing soft kisses against it and making you shiver.

"Then tell me.", you answer a bit breathless, tilting your head to give him better access. 

"It's better to show you, though.", he continues, pressing a gentle kiss on your lips.

"Well, then show me."

"Not sure about doing this here, though."

At this, you knit your eyebrows together. "Huh?"

Ziu finally lets go of you, sighing deeply. "You trust me, right?", he asks, suddenly serious - something very unusual for your normally over-enthusiastic, silly boyfriend.

You nod carefully, pushing a few strands of hair back behind your ear. "Of course I do."

At this, Ziu jumps up and holds one hand towards you to take. "Come on, then." 

Confused, you grab his hand, letting yourself be pulled with him. "Are we going over to Ayno and Dawon's place?"

"Not yet. Dress warmly, I don't want you catching a cold.", Ziu says gently, already holding your red bobble hat in one of his hands.

You begin to feel a bit nervous thanks to his strange behavior, but begin to nevertheless dress in some of your warmest clothes before following him out of your dorm. 

Ziu takes your hand in his, swinging your arms between you like always, but somehow it feels forced and unnatural this time. You're seriously beginning to panic, trying to push all thoughts of Ziu trying to break up with you or something like that aside.

You mean... Why would he? He only just told you he loved you - a mere few hours ago... 

And such a sudden change of heart wouldn't be like him at all... right?

At least that's what you try to tell yourself. 

You don't even notice reaching the forest where you picked Ziu's Christmas tree just a few weeks earlier, too immersed into your own thoughts. Confused, you lift both eyebrows. "What are we doing here?", you ask timidly, the dark forest not being a place you want to spend time in at this hour. 

„Just trust me, Y/N.", Ziu simply answers, continuing to pull you with him. 

He stops when you finally reach a small clearing, letting go of your hand. He takes a few steps away from you, his back turned towards you.

"Ziu?" Your voice sounds way too small in the darkness of the forest, the only light coming from the stars above you.

"There's something I haven't told you about me yet.", Ziu begins, voice sounding nervous.

"This is some serious Twilight scenario right there.", you try to joke, hugging yourself and beginning to shiver - not only due to the coldness of the winter night though.

Ziu doesn't laugh - which is more than unusual for him.

"You're actually not that far off, Y/N." With that, he turns around.

Are you hallucinating or are his normally dark brown eyes shining yellow? 

Your heart hammers inside your chest and you take a tiny step back.

"Please... just - don't run away." And with that, your boyfriend begins to change in front of you: his nose prolongates - no, his whole face prolongates, while the rest of his body bends in a weird way. 

You blink a few times and almost miss the rest of his change - how fur begins to grow out of his skin, how paws form where seconds ago he still had his human hands...

You're unable to scream, completely shell-shocked.

You simply stare at the big, black wolf in front of you. 

Don't run away, please.

"HOLY FUCK!", you yell, stumbling back a bit and landing butt-first in the snow. 

You simply continue to stare at the Wolf - at... Ziu.

Your boyfriend.

"Did... did you just talk to me? Like, telepathically?“, you whisper, pretty much convinced you have to be dreaming right now.

I am. So... you can really hear me?

"Of course I can hear you! But- how? I... what the hell is even going on?", you finish weakly, not able to stand up again and continuing to gaze at the wolf.

Uh, well... So... I'm a werewolf...

"You're a werewolf."

Yup.

"I'm dreaming, aren't I?"

Nope.

You laugh a bit hysterical, burying your face in your hands and taking a few deep breaths to keep yourself from hyperventilating.

You feel something soft and warm nuzzling your head and jump a bit, looking up. 

Ziu's brown eyes stare back at you - the eyes you know so well by now.

With a trembling hand you reach out to touch his silky looking fur. 

He nuzzles his snout into your hand, making you smile a bit.

"This is seriously so weird.", you mumble, continuing to gently stroke his fur.

I'm just glad you didn't faint.

"Oh, shut up."

The wolf makes a noise quite similar to a snort and you poke him, extracting a yelp from him.

"Have you always been a werewolf?", you ask softly, while Ziu lays down in front of you, heat radiating from him and stopping your trembling.

Yes - I was born as one. You actually can't be turned into one, that's just a myth.

"Really? Well, that's really some serious Twilight shit right there.“

At this, the wolf growls. Don't compare me to those stupid huskies.

You giggle, before falling silent again. "What... what do we do now?"

What do you mean?

"I mean, why did you tell me? Don't misunderstand - I appreciate your honesty, but... Why?"

Because I love you. Because the wolf is part of me. And because...

"Because?"

You're my mate.

With that, Ziu slowly changes back into his human form.

You simply stare at him, blinking slowly. "I'm your... mate."

He nods shyly, carefully taking your hands in his and beginning to play with your fingers. "Having a mate is actually quite rare nowadays.", he tells you quietly, "So finding you comes pretty close to a miracle."

"Well, aren't you a lucky wolf then.", you murmur, looking down at your interlaced hands. 

"Of course I am. I have you.", he simply states, making your heart flutter.

"Will this... I don’t know, change anything between us?", you ask a bit fearful, not daring to look up - but Ziu gently lifts your chin with his fingers, his eyes soft and full of love.

"No, not at all. It simply means you can be absolutely sure I'll never leave your side. That I'll always look out for you. That you're the only person I'll ever want to be with - that I'll ever love.", he answers, gently tracing your lips with one finger.

You let out a deep breath, beginning to nod slowly and earning a bright grin from your boyfriend - your… mate. 

"You're damn lucky you're such a cute puppy.", you finally say, a small smile pulling on your lips.

Ziu laughs out loud, pulling you close to his chest. 

"First of all - I’m not a puppy, I’m a wolf! And secondly - I'm damn lucky to have such a cute mate.", he answers, kissing the top of your head and holding you tight.

"You sure are.", you say, beginning to smile in earnest now and pressing a soft kiss on his lips.

"I love you.", he murmurs when you pull away again and gaze up at him.

You smile. "I love you, too."

[masterlist] | [requests] 

[thats-pucking-amazing]

Columbus *Part 2* (Zach Werenski)

Yay for productivity! Enjoy part two...it’s over 2,200 words long, so whoops. Will definitely be at least one more part!

Part One

Warnings: Dancing, Columbus, Blue Jacket players

Requests: Open

You rubbed your eyes and tried to refocus on the words that professor whats-his-face was scribbling on the board. Why did I take stats? Why did I do this to myself? The only saving grace was that this was the only class you had today...and there were only, you looked up at the clock for the umpteenth time, 27 minutes left.

“I can see that all of you have tuned me out,” You looked to your prof who looked as done with the day as the rest of you. “And frankly...I’d rather be anywhere but here. It’s a Friday...go on. Get drunk or something. Just stop looking at me with your soul sucking dead eyes.” As the class began to flood toward the exit he added on, “Complete the problems on page 127 by next class.”

Walking into the sunshine was a blessing and you couldn’t help but turn your face up towards it. Which explains why you jumped about 15 feet in the air when a voice came from right next to you.

“Y/N right?” The voice asked. “Ope sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You’re okay. And yeah, I’m Y/N...you’re….Clara right?”

“Yeah! Hey...a group of friends and I are going out tonight and I wanted to know if you wanted to join? I always see you in class and you seem pretty cool...but I never see you in the dorms.”

“Oh! I actually live in one of the single room apartments. I got it because I’m on scholarship. Ummm...how many people are going to be there?”

“If you come there will be six of us. We’re not much for socializing...but I thought adding one more wouldn’t hurt anything. You in?”

“Sure...why not? What’s the plan?” You decided to take a risk. It was three weeks into the semester and other than the occasional nod and smile, you didn’t really have friends. So this would be good for you...hopefully.

“We’re going to Bar 23. It’s like 10 minutes from campus...we were going to get apps and drinks, maybe go to Skully’s for dancing after.”

“I’m not 21 yet. And I don’t have another ID to use.” You said.

“No worries! Skully’s is 18+ so you’re good! Do you want to meet us at B23 around 7pm?”

You nodded. “I’ll be there. Thanks for the invite Clara.”

“Of course! Here add your number in my phone and I’ll text you so that you can send me a message when you get there.” After sharing numbers you waved goodbye and headed back to your apartment.

“Alright self. You have four hours until you have to leave. You could A: do your homework so you’re not stressing on Sunday or B: take a nap.” You pretended to think about it. “Nap it is. Good choice self.”

Three and a half hours later you were tugging on your favorite pair of skinny jeans over a lace bodysuit. A pair of booties completed the outfit, and looking at yourself in the mirror...you couldn’t say you were mad about the money you spent on this outfit a few weeks ago. Your curves looked bomb, your hair was laying just right and the makeup you’d applied made your eyes and lips pop. Long story short...you looked great!

You looked in the mirror one last time and gave yourself a nod of approval and after putting your phone in your back pocket with your ID and cash firmly within the case, you were ready to go. You locked the door behind you and started the walk towards B23. It was about a 15 minute walk and with the addition of your leather jacket, you were comfortable in the early October weather.

Here. You sent to Clara as you approached the front door.

Table in right corner. You got back almost immediately. You entered and looked over and saw a small group of girls over at a table. You made eye contact with Clara, who waved a bit spastically at you.

“Hey!” You pulled out the chair next to you as she introduced you to her friends. “Guys this is Y/N. She’s in my stats class. This is Amelia, Jane, Shannon, and Harmony. We all live together in one of the suites. Harmony is the lucky one who doesn’t have to share.” She teased.

Harmony, a pretty girl who had to have Native American in her if the tone of her skin and stick straight black hair (which you were beyond jealous of) gave you any clues, shot her a smug smile. “It’s not my fault that I won the draw.”

“That you put the names in!” Carla shot back.

Shannon leaned over to you, “They’ll go on about this if one of us doesn’t interrupt. They’ve been best friends since they were six. And they’re definitely the loudest out of all of us.”

You chuckled. “It’s not bothering me. I’m always game for free entertainment.”

The playful bickering died down as the waitress approached to take orders. After ordering two appetizer plates and drinks...a water for you. Conversation resumed and you quickly felt like one of the group. Amidst mozzarella sticks, wings, nachos, and a lot more greasy food you talked about majors, career goals, crazy professors, and the hot people you distracted yourself with in class.

A little after eight your waitress came over with another round of drinks for the girls and another water for you.

“We didn’t order more drinks...we’re actually getting ready to go,” You told her.

“I know. Those guys over there sent them to you. The one with dark hair wanted me to ask if Ohio was still treating you well.” Your group all looked over towards the guys that your waitress had pointed out to you. And there was Zach and some of the guys who’d gone into the store with him.

“Oh! I know him. I’m gonna go say hi.” You told the girls.

“Tell them thanks for us!” Carla said, lifting her drink in a salute towards them.

You made your way over towards Zach, suddenly a bit more conscious of what you were wearing. Was it too tight? Too much boob showing?

“Hey Y/N!” Zach greeted you.

“Hi. Ohio is treating me just fine. Thanks for asking.” You sat down in the chair he pulled out for you. “I’m Y/N.” You said to his friends.

“Pierre-Luc.”

“Josh.”

“Seth.”

“Boone.” They went around the table introducing themselves.

“And I’m Zach.”

You elbowed him playfully in the side. “I know who you are. But thanks anyway. Also...thank you for the drinks.”

“You’re welcome. But I think you bruised my side...so don’t expect anymore.”

“Baby. But I’m pretty sure we’re getting ready to leave anyway...so no worries about buying us more.” You teased.

“You’re leaving?” He questioned. “Oh.”

“Umm. We’re going to Skully’s to dance...and probably drink some more if you wanted to join us later? I’m sure the girls wouldn’t mind if you wanted to join in…” You trailed leaving an open invitation.

“We’re actually leaving here now. I’m sure we’ll be happy to join.”

Josh gave him a look. “We just go-Oof!” He gave Seth an offended look. “What was that for? That hur-”

“We’d love to join,” Seth spoke over Josh, who was still glaring at him.

“Ok,” You said with a smile. “Let me go tell the girls y’all plan on coming and then I’ll see you there?” Your speech was directed a bit more directly at Zach this time.

“Sounds good.” You gave a small wave bye and headed back over to the table where your friends had not so subtly been watching the exchange.

“The guys wanted to know if you cared if they joined us at Skullys? I said that it wouldn’t be a problem...but if you guys have a prob-”

“No! They can come! We do not mind. Do they want to walk over with us? It’s only a few blocks over.” Clara said.

You shrugged. “Let me ask.” You waved Zach over and you watched as his long legs ate up the distance. “Do y’all want to walk over there with us? Or were you going to drive.”

“No we’ll walk with you. Let us pay and we’ll meet you by the door.” He headed back over and soon your group, now doubled in size, was on the way. Somehow you and Zach ended up trailing a few steps behind everyone else. Not that you minded.

“So,” He looked down at you. “You’re really liking Ohio?”

“Yeah. It’s growing on me.”

“Good. Umm…” He bit his lip and then gruffly cleared his throat. “Save me a dance? God, that made me sound so dumb. Forget it.”

“No! Uh...I’d love to. I’m not sure what kind of music they play...but I’m sure we could find something we can dance to.” You could feel your cheeks getting hot as you looked up at him. “Thanks for asking.”

45 minutes later a beat was pounding and the dance floor regularly changed colors with the lights. Your friends were all leaning a bit towards tipsy and you had even taken a shot or two. Zach and his friends had wandered off a while ago, but before you could decide to finally go look for him, a warm pair of hands settled on your hips.

“Can this be my dance?” Zach had leaned his head down so you could hear him over the music. Not only could you hear him but you could smell the scent of his cologne and almost feel his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke. “I’m ready now.”

“Sounds good to me.” You tried to turn and face him but he clamped his hands onto your hips so you couldn’t.

“Like this, Darling.” He stepped even closer to you, his front now flush with your back. He pulled your hands up and looped them around his neck, causing you to arch slightly into him before he put his hands back on your hips. ”Now sway.”

So you did. And BOY did that explain why people liked to dance this way so much. You’d never danced this way, never understanding why people wouldn’t want to look at their partner. But being able to feel him pressed so nicely against you...his thigh in between yours and one of his hands banded firmly around your waist. You didn’t want to dance any other way. He swiveled his hips against yours, so you pressed back even tighter against him.

His chest vibrated with a groan. “Do it again.” You definitely felt his lips against your ear this time. But you did it again. And again. He rewarded you by lightly trailing his lips against your neck.

“Zach…” He tiled your head up so you could look at him.

“I want to kiss you.” He said.

“Please.” And then he was. His lips pressed hotly against yours and then his tongue was in your mouth, twining with yours. Your hands were twisted in his hair and his were slowly trailing up your stomach until his thumbs rested right under your breasts.

“Uh...guys.” Your broke away from each other at the sound of Clara’s voice. “As much as I personally enjoy the show you’re putting on...just wanted to let you know that we’re heading out. But you can stay here if you want Y/N...we just are going to go by your apartment and didn’t want you to have to walk back alone.”

You took a deep breath and allowed the air to clear your head from the drugged state Zach’s kiss had put you in. “Um, yeah that’d be great; thanks.”

“I’m pretty sure your friends are also leaving, Zach.”

“Thanks.” He answered gruffly. Clara walked away, leaving you with Zach. “I can drive you back to your apartment if you want...my car is still at B23.”

“It’s okay...I don’t want you to have to go out of your way.” You responded.

“It’s not that far out of the way...I,” He coughed and thought you couldn’t see the best in this light, you were pretty sure his cheeks were red. “I’m not ready to say goodbye, yet. I like spending time with you.” He kissed you lightly again. “I like kissing you.”

“Believe me, the feeling is mutual. But I don’t want to bail on the girls...this is my first night out with them.” A slight pout formed on his face. “Are you pouting?!”

“No!” He quickly answered.

“You’re pouting!” You laughed. “I have some homework...but I can be done with it by two, tomorrow...if you wanted to meet somewhere?”

“Are you asking me out on a date?” He teased as the two of you made your way towards the entrance where your friends waited.

“I guess I am. You didn’t ask me so I had to make the move myself.”

“I would love to go on a date with you tomorrow.” He handed you his phone. “Put your number in and I’ll text you tonight...we can make plans.”

“Okay.” After handing his phone backed to him you said bye to the guys and then were given one more burning kiss by Zach before you headed back towards your apartment with your friends.

Ohio was definitely turning out to be better than expected.

Let me know if you see any blazing errors

*Also my posts have not been formatting the way I want on mobile...sorry!*

[icequeenjules26]

All I Want (For Christmas) Is You

Summary:  Dan Howell's life as a student of modern piano music is completely turned upside down when he is grouped in an assignment with Phil Lester...

Word Count: 7,2k

Tags: University AU, Fluff, Pianist!Dan, Guitarist!Phil, 

A/n: This is written for @babethepig for the Phandom fic Fests Holiday Exchange. As always the biggest ever thank you goes out to my love @succubusphan, who spent a lot of time beta’ing this. You’re the best. <3 

Read on A03

Dans schedule was a proper mess this semester. His decision to specialize in modern piano music got frowned upon not only by his parents but also by his Uni, so his curses were not nicely fit together anymore. He had a lot of free time in between, but his time gaps were too short to get back to his dorm, so he mostly stayed on campus, spending his free time in one of the multiple coffee shops around or with his friend Louise, who was assigned a dorm room much closer to campus than he was.

 That’s how he caught wind of it first.

 He had always been good at playing the piano, the time at uni had only helped with that, obviously; but that he was supposedly the best in his studies had always sounded like an exaggeration. There were a lot of piano students, so he had tried toning down the people talking about him, directing them to someone else. Aside from his musical ability there wasn’t much interesting about him, though, so he had drifted out of the other students’ eyes - at least aside from the talk about whoever was supposed to be dating this week. His open bisexuality made for a large pool of possible suitors, but there were students much more interesting to talk about.

 Now, though, he was back inside of the rumor mill, and right in the center.

 It started off innocently enough.

 “The instruments students are doing trios this year, did you hear?” The two girls in the booth right next to his were chatting animatedly with each other, obviously unaware of him just sitting half a meter away. “Yeah, I’m so excited! We haven’t seen Dan Howell performing for a while, which is a shame. Him at a Piano is enough to get me going to be honest.”

 Dan was already puffing out his chest like a peacock, debating on whether to go over there or at least make his presence known otherwise, when the other girl’s reply made him halt in his tracks. “I mean same , but have you seen Phil Lester lately? He got rid of his emo fringe and stuff. He’s scolding hot .” She layed extra emphasis on the word hot and in Dan’s head, two mindsets started battling over what to do. The first one expressed some kind of jealousy in a “I wanted to tap that girl”-kind of way, the other one wanted to spring onto facebook to check out the guy they were talking about, whose name sounded kind of familiar.

 Former emo fringe musician that got hot? Sign him the fuck up.

 Chuckling lowly about his screaming bisexuality he continued listening, his interest now peaked.

 “Well, they’re doing trios right? Just imagine both of them on stage together…”

 The other girl actually moaned at the thought and Dan couldn’t contain the smirk creeping on his face. He took a sip from his coffee, his still open laptop on the table in front of him long forgotten. He probably should be working on one of his assignments due this week, but the girls’ conversation was too interesting to ignore.

 Dan had to suppress some swearing when his laptop dinged with an incoming email. He could hear the girls whispering behind him when they looked over because of the sound, realizing who he was - “Oh my god is that Dan Howell?” and “Oh my god, do you think he heard us?” -  and he quickly leaned forward to appear busy.

 The email causing the ‘ding’ was actually about the assignment the girls had just been talking about. He packed up his stuff immediately when he had read through it. The list of assigned groups had just been hung out in front of his professor’s office and she invited all participants to a meeting in about half an hour on the other side of the campus, so he had to rush.

 ~~~

 Even the rushing didn’t help in the end, the unfortunate incident of a broken down bus costed him the time to check the list before the meeting started. When he got there he still had no idea who his partners were, so he didn’t understand the reason behind the quiet whispers that started when he set foot into the lecture hall. He managed to find his friend Louise quite fast and slid into the free spot next to her. “What’s the fuss about?” he asked her quietly but before she could answer, the door opened again and a group of professors walked in.

 Their looks varied about as much as those of the students sitting in the audience, making for a quite colourful group. For this assignment, nearly all rock-centered curses were thrown together, not only piano but also guitar, drums, bass, violin and multiple other instruments. The hall was packed full, but the arrival of the professors assured silence among the students.

 “Good morning everyone! Hopefully you all checked the list and are in the process of contacting your partners. Teamwork is the key for this assignment! Because of the number of students most groups consist of one piano student, one guitar student and one of another instrument, specifically arranged to play into your strengths and make you work on your weaknesses.” The young male professor’s voice rung soundly through the hall and Dan couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. Prof. Smith, responsible for the guitar department and  specialized on rock music, was so completely different from his own professor and so cliché rock musician that it offended Dan’s believes; he fit the stereotype perfectly, including tattoo covered arms, piercings and wild, green hair, often sporting band shirts.

 Prof. Johnson, on the other hand, was nothing like her profession. She was a middle-aged woman with slim, neon green glasses and grey eyes that always seemed to shine with mischief. Her jet black hair fell in untamable curls onto her shoulders and she seemed to never leave the house without a nerdy T-Shirt, merch for some comic, TV-Show or movie. When she stepped forward, the whispers around the hall got louder and the grin on her face was so wide Dan couldn’t help but grin back. He liked his Professor, even if she tended to overstep her boundaries and was eager to make friends among the students.

 “If you have questions you can always turn to me or Mr. Smith, Mr. Miller or Mrs. Adams, or any of the other Professors involved,” she said, then paused for a second to let the murmures and voices ring out.

 “Now, we know this is a big thing among the student body, but we hope you can keep it as low as possible. Drama and relations, as fun as they are to watch for us, will only make your work harder. If you want to outplay this though, be assured I will be watching with a glass of wine and popcorn.” There were chuckles among the group and Louise next to him went red trying to keep in her laughter. Dan grinned at her and made a mental note to tell her about the girls he had encountered before coming here.

It took some time for the students to calm down, but when she continued speaking, Dan was shocked into silence. “That also goes for other students aside from yourself. The list is out for half an hour and the only duo involving Mr. Howell and Mr. Lester has already caused an uproar throughout the whole university, so please think about what you are causing when you speak about information like this next time.”

 The rest of the meeting went by in a blur. The professors informed them of the nature of the assignment - the whole thing had pretty much the built-up of a generic talent show. They had to cover one song each week in an open, on-campus concert starting in two weeks. Each week two groups would be voted out by the professors until three groups remained for the finale.

 At the end Dan didn’t remember anything the professors had explained to them. He would beg Louise for her notes tomorrow, but that wasn’t the important thing right now.

 The important thing was that he was supposed to perform with the one and only Phil Lester - and after a quick facebook check he realized why the name had sounded so familiar. Dan had had a crush on the cute and amazingly talented guitar player performing every saturday in a close-by coffee shop for weeks until he had disappeared. What made it even harder for Dan was the fact that the girls had been right.

 The guy had gotten hot as fuck.

 Louise’ mumbled keep it in your pants seemed almost impossible to stick to.

 ~~~~

 It took Dan around half a week to stop running from Phil. He kept himself busy with papers not due for at least a few more weeks and working harder for other assignments than he ever had before - he did anything that would make him forget about the short message from Phil awaiting him on whatsapp, where he introduced himself and informed him they were partners. The little dog emoji at the end of the message made him squeal like a schoolgirl, but that was exactly the problem. He had to keep it professional. Which would be difficult considering the increasingly hot pictures Phil posted on his facebook and instagram…

 On thursday Dan finally realized he wouldn’t be able to hide from this forever, as he couldn’t afford to fail this class. So he decided to suck it up and went with a generic confirmation and the question to set a time for their first rehearsal as a reply.

 On friday Dan was about as nervous as he could be. Fidgeting the entire morning, he changed his outfit for at least five times until Louise threatened to rip his whole wardrobe to shreds if he didn't decide soon. Her teasing didn’t make his job any easier though. He was supposed to meet Phil in less than half an hour in one of the practice rooms in the music building half a campus away and he was dying a little.

 “Do you really think I look okay?” he asked Louise, who was seated directly next to him on the bus, anxiously running his fingers through his brown locks. Louise caught his wrist mid-movement and forced his hand back into his lap before she patted it sympathetically. “You look great, Dan. Just don’t behave like the little schoolgirl you’re portraying right now, okay?”

 Dan couldn’t get rid of the blush creeping onto his cheeks for the rest of the bus ride.

 When he arrived at their booked practice room, Phil wasn’t there yet. Sighing in relief, he let his backpack sink to the floor before moving over to the piano, situated on a little pedestal in front of the window. He took a seat on the stool right in front of it and let his fingers run over the keys testingly. A series of notes rang through the air and he realized delightedly that the piano was pitched precisely.

 He let his fingers push the keys purposefully and before he knew it they strung together to one of his favorite songs. He started singing along, just for the fun of it; but he got completely lost in the music. At one point a second voice joined in, harmonizing with him to an unbelievable extend, but he didn’t even realize; it just sounded like it had been there from the start.

 Like it belonged there, ringing alongside his own.

 Only at the end of the song he realized what had happened. When the last note rang loud through the now deafening silence he whipped around, eyes wide - and met the bluest eyes he had ever seen.

 He wanted to avert his eyes, wanted to check who it was, but he couldn’t; for a few moments, he was frozen, lost in time, no connection to reality except for the blue he was drowning in.

 The moment shattered like glass around him when some kind of crashing noise pierced in from outside of the room and Dan was finally able to move his eyes.

 “That was beautiful,” a deep, melodic voice said and he couldn’t help but stare at the black haired figure standing proudly and tall at the other end of the piano, smiling at him reassuringly.

 Dan had to blink a few times and pinch himself covertly, but the picture in front of him stayed the same: Phil Lester, in all his delicious glory, eyes shining so bright Dan was sure he’d need sunglasses.

 “It was,” he agreed with a raspy voice, watching wordlessly as Phil made his way over to him. “I’m Phil,” he said, sticking out his hand in front of him and Dan had to gulp down his fast rising excitement. I’ll get to touch Phil Lester!!

 When it happened, when their hands touched, he almost flinched back. A warm feeling shot up his arm at top speed and for a second, he forgot how to breathe. Holy shit.

 “Dan,” he rasped back, staring up at Phil with wide eyes, not really sure what to do with himself, only one thought ringing through his mind - if touching Phil felt like that , how amazing would kissing him be?

 Obviously, the black haired guitar player was not as shocked as Dan. “So, do you think we found our song for the first show?”

 Just like that they slipped over into work - and working with Phil, Dan learned, was just as easy as breathing.

 ~~~

 The first week with Phil was like walking on clouds. The numerous holes in Dan’s schedule made for good practice times, and the fact that Phil didn’t have many classes this semester meant that he was there for almost every one of them. Work flowed easily and smoothly and on monday they were already done segmenting the song and deciding who would get to sing which parts.

 But not only the work went great, even their voices harmonized like they were meant to be heard together. They didn’t even need transitions between Dan’s singing parts to Phil’s, the changes from line to line went just as smoothly as the ones with longer instrumental intervals between.

 Tuesday evening they were basically ready to perform. Dan had his piano playing recorded as a playback to make him more flexible on stage instead of immobile behind a giant instrument. Phil’s guitar skills maybe didn’t quite match Jimmy Hendrik’s yet, but they were definitely up there, and he had the song down to a T. Neither of them had classes the next morning, so as they were leaving the practice room, Dan felt quite courageous from all the adrenaline still rushing through him after a perfect run - and he boldly asked Phil if he wanted to get a coffee somewhere before retiring to their respective dorms.

 Ten minutes later they were sat in a coffee shop right off campus. Dan chose a cozy little booth in the corner directly next to the window front while Phil went to get their coffees. When Dan took the first sip of his drink he almost spat it right back out, but instead moved to first eye the drink and then Phil suspiciously.

 “How do you know?” he asked, his voice almost high pitched as he narrowed his eyes.

Phil just raised an eyebrow into an almost perfectly shaped curve, looking at Dan questionably as he calmly took a sip of his coffee, not saying a word.

 “How do you know my order?” Dan specified and watched incredulously as Phil’s full, kissable lips spread into a wide grin. He could almost picture it, attaching his own lips onto his as they spread into the exact grin before the kisses started to get more serious, more heated, Phil’s fringe messed up, his cheeks red as clothes were coming off…

 Oh my god, stop betraying me, goddamn heart.

 “I didn’t. I just ordered two of my usual order.”

 Phil’s voice ripped him out of his daydream and for a second he couldn’t do much else than stare in stunned silence. “You drink caramel Macchiato, too?” he asked, blinking. Huh. He really hadn’t expected that from a guy as hot as him…

 Jesus fucking christ, actually shut the fuck up!

 Dan’s attraction to Phil had risen to an unhealthy level by now. Not only was he hot as fuck, no; during their practice time Dan also had had to learn that the guy was smart, funny, lively, and talented as fuck , even more than Dan remembered him to be. Dan was lucky the assignment, and working on the music kept him busy and focused, or else he would have probably jumped the guy by now.

 “It’s my all time favorite,” Phil confirmed, his grin transforming into a cheeky smile, and Dan couldn’t keep a blush from dusting his cheeks pink.

 “Mine too,” he admitted and took another tentative sip from his drink, purposefully avoiding Phil’s eyes. He knew that if he looked into them now, he would drown in them.

 For a few moments it was silent between them, both nursing their coffee, Dan deeply lost in thought about the blueness of Phil’s eyes.

 “So, Muse, huh?”

 It was Phil breaking the silence and Dan looked up, surprised. It took him a second to realize how Phil had even known he liked Muse , until he realized they had met while singing their song Thought Contagion before choosing it for their first performance. This time he was pretty sure he kept the blush at bay.

 “Yeah. I love them.”

 Phil’s mouth stretched into a happy smile, his eyes shining brightly, full of honest excitement as he started chattering about them. Dan had to gulp and pinch his hand unsuspiciously to keep himself from losing his mind .

 They moved from Muse to Panic! to Fallout Boy to Paramore and even further. Albums became scores, which lead the way to games, movies and TV shows. It was almost scary how much they had in common, how much their interests overlapped, and it actually took Dan a while to remember a question he’d had since he’d heard of the assigned groups.

 He used a temporary lull in conversation - one that he could have easily filled with something relatable to the topic they were on, mind you - to finally ask.

 “By the way, do you know why we are the only duo?”

 Phil raised his eyebrow, a cheeky smile back on his face and Dan knew there was a blush creeping up his cheeks yet again. He couldn’t help but feel like he missed something vital here, but he had no idea what exactly.

 “Did you not pay attention at the meeting?”

 Dan felt his eyes widen in surprise and blinked, cheeks even hotter than before. “I might have been… preoccupied ,” he admitted and Phil’s smile grew into a full-blown grin.

 “Prof. Johnson and Prof. Smith spent like ten minutes explaining,” he informed Dan, “Apparently the numbers didn’t match up and they had to have one duo, so they both chose their best student and realized we would be a good match.” He put special emphasis on the word match and for a second, Dan wasn’t sure if he would be able to stay conscious. Was he just making a joke… Or was Phil Lester really flirting with him?

 “We - we are,” he stammered in response and Phil’s chuckling send his heart into overdrive. Oh god. How was he supposed to survive at least 2 more months working with the guy?

 “I think so too,” Phil whispered back with a husky voice, making Dan choke on his long cold coffee.

 Fuck, these next weeks are going to be torture.

 ~~~

 The next monday morning Dan found himself in yet another on-campus coffee shop, putting the finishing touches on an assignment that was due today. Normally it was a break he would spend with Phil, but he had stuff to arrange with one of his professors, so they decided he would join up with Dan as soon as he was able to. They had managed to get a headstart on this week’s performance by starting working on it on saturday, so they weren’t in much of a rush. They had decided on a song and discussed divisioning on sunday already; it was only practicing left.

 Of course the performance on Friday had gone great. They had gotten a lot of applause by the watching students, the little hall on campus used for performances had been packed to the rim, so there had been at least a few hundred watchers. The professors had obviously also been satisfied with their presentation, considering they had informed them they would progress into the next round even before the whole show had been over.

 So Dan and Phil had spent their Friday night celebrating. Even though neither of them were really the party going type, they had agreed to go out for a few drinks with their best friends Louise and PJ - who, coincidentally, were in the same group - and Tyler, a music production student Dan had been friends with for years. He had flirted with Phil quite obviously and had teased Dan for his sour mood afterwards, but had assured him that Phil only has eyes for you, you dumbass, pay attention!, coupled with a playful whack on his head.

 The memory let Dan grumble absently, but the arriving of a group of students in the booth right behind him ripped him away from his trip down memory lane. “I mean, they’re both bisexual, right?” one of the girls stated while taking a seat, making him peek up immediately. He liked to hear stories about his fellow unicorns and regretted only becoming aware of this conversation after it had already started.

 “They are,” a guy’s voice confirmed. Dan was pretty sure he had heard the voice before, but he didn’t have the courage to turn around and check. He was lucky enough to not have been spotted by the group, he really didn’t have to push his luck.

 “Have you seen their sexual tension? I know you want to fuck them both, Caleb, but come on.” The female voice was followed by a male groan and the sound of a head meeting the tabletop. “I knowww,” was the answer, “I’m sexually deprived, not blind .”

 Dan raked his brain, trying to figure out who they were talking about. Being friends with Louise and Tyler meant that he was mostly up to date with recent campus gossip, and he really wanted to tell them about this later.

 “Did you know there’s already a bet going on? About if they’ll be dating by the end of this semester.”

 “Which idiot would even bet against that?”

 The booth erupted into laughter and Dan furrowed his eyebrows, thinking. He leaned forward, trying to appear busy, but in reality the assignment currently open on his laptop was the furthest thing from his mind.

 “Okay, but aside from all that they were the best group, even if it was just the two of them. They’re gonna win this thing, hands down.” 

Dan’s eyes went as wide as saucers as realization seeped into him. They weren’t really talking about -

 “Absolutely. Thought Contagion was brilliant, I’m so excited to see what they’ll come up with for the next round.”

 That was the moment Phil decided to make his appearance, ripping him out of his thoughts almost violently. “Morning!” he said, cheerfully, two cups of steaming coffee in his hands. He pushed one of them over to Dan after he had taken a seat.

 A look of confusion, even concern appeared on his face when Dan didn’t react, just continued staring at his laptop screen with his eyes wide open. “Dan? Are you okay? Have you seen a ghost?”

 The chatter behind him ended immediately. When he slowly turned around a group of seven people was staring at him, wide eyed. All of them scrambled to their feets as fast as they could. “You’re a cute couple!” one of the girls squeaked out, then they were gone, leaving Dan to explain the situation to Phil.

 Needless to say Phil wasn’t fazed at all, instead he used the story to make more flirty remarks, making Dan blush yet again.

 Damn, I’m fucked.

 ~~~~

Almost three months passed by in a rush and by december Dan couldn’t even recognize his life anymore. All the time he had previously spent alone in front of his laptop, browsing tumblr or watching Netflix, converted into Phil-time, slowly but surely. They played games or watched TV-Shows nearly every day after practice. Dan’s roommate had even asked him if he was moving out with all the time he spent away, but Dan couldn’t help himself. Phil lived in a flat near campus all alone. A tiny flat, sure, but it made for the best meetup place, especially for gaming or movie nights or for research about their next song - and it gave them some privacy. Not that much had happened yet aside from the increasingly flirty comments and occasional cuddle sessions, but it still made their friendship easier.

 Especially because they were now something like campus-famous and got recognized wherever they went.

 So far, they had aced most performances and were through to the last show before christmas break. After New Year’s there was only one show left before the big finale. They were pretty sure they had a good grade secured, but they still gave it their all - they had come so far, there was no way they were giving up now.

 In the upcoming show only seven groups were left and it was the first one with two mandatory songs, one optional and one christmas themed, dropping the rock theme just for this once. Since the last week was cut short - Christmas break started on thursday - they had an additional half week to prepare. Dan and Phil had decided on Panic! ’s High Hopes for the first song and Last Christmas for the second and as always, they had been quite fast with their work. They were practiced and basically done on Monday, so they allowed themselves the night off. Phil’s brother was in town and Dan had heartlessly neglected Tyler since the assignment started (his words), basically forcing Dan to spent the night with him.

 Fortunately Tyler had a lecture early the next morning, so he wasn’t trying to get himself or Dan trashed. He did, however, made use of the time by grilling Dan about his relationship to Phil.

 Dan was a bit annoyed, but at the end of the day he was glad to be able to talk about it, even if he would never admit to that. Louise and her group were still in the run for the finals too, which made her so busy they barely were able to talk for longer than a few minutes at a time - and he desperately needed an outsider’s opinion.

 It took him almost an hour to get Tyler up to date on what had happened, all the while getting interrupted by texts from Phil. Right when he was done explaining his phone dinged again, indicating another text.

 ‘the girl two tables over has a cute lil pup on her lap i keep staring she probs thinks i'm a perv help’ it read and he couldn’t help but chuckle. Tyler inspected him warily from across the table, absently playing with the straw in his half-empty cocktail. “Okay, who are you texting?” he asked then, fixing Dan with a steely gaze.

 “Oh, it’s just Phil,” he answered distractedly, typing a quick response before turning his attention back to Tyler. “Why?”

 “Are you shitting me?” he asked back, a fitting expression on his face like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Dan just answered with a surprised “huh?”, shooting him a confused look.

 “Mate, how dense can you be? You are basically dating the guy, only without the good parts!”

 Dan blinked, completely lost now, unable to follow Tyler’s train of thought. “What?”

 “You and Phil are dating, Dan, wake up! The only thing missing is the sex!”  Dan was stunned into silence, staring at Tyler like he had grown a second head. It took the thought a while to register in his brain, but then he blushed, taking a huge gulp of his drink before calling the waiter over to order another one.

 He needed more alcohol for this.

 ~~~~

 The show on wednesday evening went exceptionally well. They had the most fun rocking to High Hopes and got really festive during Last Christmas , with Dan at the Piano and Phil sat on top of it. Their professors called them over and into the next show immediately, making them giddy and high on adrenaline in the process.

 The christmas party thrown by the rock music department started directly afterwards and PJ and Louise, immensely proud of their best friends even though their own group had been voted out, insisted on going. Still in an after show rush they agreed, but soon realized why they normally didn’t like parties. It was loud, the room stuffed with people and the food was average at best, and it took them around twenty minutes to revert back to the snacks table, where they hid from the actual party.

 When Louise, PJ and Tyler of all people found them, sporting a cheeky expression, Dan knew they were fucked. They were leaning against a wall, talking and laughing with each other as much as the music allowed them to, and only a few people were inspecting them from afar.

 “Do you know where you’re standing?” PJ asked when the group was within earshot and Dan raised an eyebrow. “Next to the snacks table where we always are?” he remarked drily, making Phil chuckle next to him.

 “Look up!” Tyler singsonged with a high pitched voice and flattered his eyelashes with faked innocence.

 Dan perked up immediately. He knew that voice.

 He didn’t even need to look up to know what was fixated on the wall over their heads.

 “A Mistletoe!” Louise grinned so widely Dan was sure it had to hurt. He turned his attention to Phil, his heart throbbing in his chest on full speed.

 There was a cheeky smile on the guitarist’s face as he took a step closer, taking a hold of Dan’s head with both hands. “They want a kiss,” he murmured, lowly, “let’s give them a kiss.”

 The second his lips met Phil’s was like a firework going off everywhere inside of his body. For a moment he forgot where he was, hell, even who he was, just continued kissing Phil with passion and lust and love. He didn’t even hesitate opening up his mouth at Phil’s silent request to let him in, too far gone to care - hell, to even realize they had an audience.

 The kiss lasted for minutes and it probably could have gone on much longer if there wouldn’t have been a sudden outburst of applause. The blood took a second to reach Dan’s brain after having rushed somewhere south only seconds ago, but when it did, it immediately spread into his cheeks. They broke apart, Dan’s face still in Phil’s hands, silently contemplating the recent event.

 He had just kissed Phil Lester. In front of basically the whole rock music department.

 Great. Just great.

 The applause and whooping didn’t stop soon and he couldn’t do much more then to exchange a long look with Phil. They had a silent discussion Dan himself didn’t know the content of, until suddenly and with no indication there was panic on Phil’s face as he hastily let go of Dan and scrambled to get his phone out of his pocket. It was vibrating violently in his hands and Dan couldn’t even blink by the time Phil rasped out a “Shit! My brother is waiting for me!” and left in a rush.

 Dan stood there, staring after Phil until most of the students had averted their gazes from him and went back to whatever they had been doing before. When the ice in his veins freezing him into place finally dissipated, he groaned. He knew Phil’s brother Martyn was picking him up for Christmas with their family, and he wouldn’t be back until january.

 Of course. That’s just my fucking luck.

 ~~~

 He spent christmas break in some sort of limbo, like his relationship to Phil was Schrödinger’s cat, platonic and romantic at the same time. He knew the kiss had meant something not only to him but also to Phil, that much had been obvious with the way he had taken the offensive in deepening the kiss and how he had held him afterwards. But that was about the amount of information Dan had, and neither of them mentioned the kiss on any level, so he decided to just ignore the issue for now.

 It did made him jumpy and fidgety and mostly unable to focus, though, and only his frequent skype calls with Phil got him focused and concentrated enough to get some much needed work done.

 There were only two shows left, but they were only one week apart and both required three songs, so they decided to learn all songs over the break. They spent hours on skype, deciding on the songs and how to play and sing them, so they would be done learning their personal parts until they could meet back up in person.

 For a short moment, their reunion was like the sun had risen again. They hugged, soft words of attachment and longing on their lips, but then it was like someone had flipped a switch and they were back in working mode. Phil didn’t mention the kiss and Dan didn’t dare to, so they went back to Status Quo, just like that.

 The first show in the new year went okay-ish. Neither of them poured everything into it, already looking forward to the songs they had chosen for the finale, but they still managed to pull through. Their only truly memorable performance was The Black Parade by My Chemical Romance , which they definitely aced, but the other ones admittedly fell a bit flat. Both their professors urged them to not take it too lightly just because they had done so amazingly until now, so they swore to give everything they had in their last performances together.

 They were the first group performing in the finale. It wasn’t hard for Dan to get in the mood of their songs, considering they were all pining lovesongs and he would have the one he was pining after up on stage with him, so he was glad they got to go first. It made the waiting and anticipation in between easier, and waiting for the results when they were done didn’t mean much to him anyway - he didn’t care too much about winning.

 He just wanted to give his best, pour all his feelings into the songs when he was up there with Phil. He wanted to make it obvious that he meant every word he was singing.

 He wanted to get Phil to understand…

 In short, he just wanted Phil.

 Their first song was a soft piano interpretation of It’s not living (If it’s not with you) by The 1975 , and Dan was so entranced by Phil he forgot to look at his hands while playing. He didn’t make a single mistake, thankfully,  but if he would have made one he probably wouldn’t even have noticed. He benefited from the fact that he had practiced the piano part so often on the tiny piano in his childhood bedroom that his parents had asked him to please, please stop.

 They spent their break with a bottle of coke huddled together on a tiny sofa backstage, making loose conversation and trying to get their mind off of things. Dan basked in the close physical proximity and simply smiled when Phil just casually took his hand while he talked, playing with his fingers. He had a feeling that things would be going well.

 Dan had particularly fun during their next song. The Last Of The Real Ones by Fallout Boy was one of his favorite songs and he connected a lot of the lyrics to Phil. The piano playing was not an issue this time since they had both laid down their playing previously and conjoined it in a track, so he had all the time in the world to focus on Phil, which he took full advantage of. They riled up the crowd so much that Tyler, who had agreed to be the presenter of the night, had trouble getting them back in check for the next group.

 During christmas break, far away from Phil and his feelings, their next song had seemed like a good idea. It was romantic, emotional and full of love and Dan couldn’t think of any other song that would make his feelings for Phil more clear than this.

 Now, though, it seemed entirely too personal to perform in front of what felt like the whole Uni. During practice he had refrained from building too much of a connection, afraid of taking it too far, but now he didn’t have much of a choice and it made him more nervous than any other performance before. His hands were sweaty, his stomach was rumbling and he was ready to cancel the whole thing when Phil noticed the state he was in.

 “Dan,” he whispered, pointedly ignoring the other people lounging around backstage, completely focusing on Dan, “It’ll be okay. You will be okay. And I will be with you, right there by your side the whole time, okay?”

 It was in this moment that something settled in Dan’s chest. He returned Phil’s fond look with courage and determination, grasping his hand in his and squeezing it tightly. “Me too. We’re on the same page.”

 He was sure Phil caught the double meaning when his look got soft. “I think I always knew,” he answered quietly, almost inaudible. “Let’s do this.”

 ~~~

 Their last performance of this assignment was a complete success. They performed The Only Exception by Paramore sitting huddled together on the little Piano stool in front of the huge piano and didn’t take their eyes off of each other the entire time. It was so emotional Tyler had tears in his eyes when he came on stage, hugging first Phil, then Dan tightly, muttering a soft “go get ‘em, tiger” into Dan’s ear and Dan could feel his heart swelling.

 This was it.

 Backstage, thankfully, they were alone. Both of the other groups were nowhere to be seen, and Phil obviously noticed faster than him.

 Before he even had the chance to turn around from closing the door he was already spun around and pressed against the next hard surface, Phil’s lips attacking his own.

 For what felt like ages they were kissing furiously, like they had deprived themselves of this for far too long and now a dam had been broken down, nothing holding them back anymore.

 Once they were out of breath Phil separated their lips, lovingly gazing into his eyes instead. “I have waited for this for far too long,” he whispered quietly, softly, his hands on the sides of Dan’s head, his thumbs gently caressing his cheeks.

 “Me too,” he mumbled back, drowning in Phil’s eyes and feeling himself falling, falling; falling even deeper in love with him. “I meant every word I sang.”

 There was a beat of quiet, then:

 “I love you.”

 The words were muttered completely simultaneously, and for the single bat of an eye both stared at the other, stunned into silence.

 Then they were both dissolving into giggles, holding onto the other to keep from toppling over.

 “That,” Phil gasped out, “was so us.”

 Dan couldn’t help but agree.

 ~~~

 “Do you really think so, Badiha?”

 “I don’t know, Henry, but they did seem smitten during that song, don’t you think?”

 “True!”

 There was a group of at least five people seated in the booth directly behind Dan’s and even though he wasn’t that much of a gossip he couldn’t help but eavesdrop. He was busily procrastinating the work he needed to do until the next day, refreshing tumblr around ten times a minute, so it wasn’t too surprising the conversation distracted him as soon as it got loud enough for him to hear.

 “But they haven’t been seen in public with each other in ages aside from their performances. I just really want them to be happy with each other, is that too much to ask?”

 That was the first voice again. Dan allowed himself a short look at the group out of the corner of his eyes and recognized all faces he was able to pick up on. They had all been to the performance Phil and him did twice a week in a near bar ever since their joint assignment last year, he was sure of it. He mostly recognized them because of the person that had spoken first, a girl with the pride flag drawn on her eyelids. He remembered how she had attracted his attention during their first show because of her truly iconic makeup.

 “I know, right?!” a male voice joined in and this time Dan didn’t need the information practically jumping into his face to realize they were talking about him and Phil.

 After their win in the finale they had decided to keep their relationship at a down low, trying to make themselves comfortable with being boyfriends before they truly made it public. They were still pretty famous throughout the students and the center of the rumor mill, but they had been in a relationship for almost a year now and had only recently realized there was nothing to be afraid of if everybody knew. Most of them would be happy for them, and the rest of them, well -

 They’d just have to suck it up.

 That was the moment his boyfriend decided to show up. He slid into the booth, taking a seat directly next to Dan, pressing their thighs together. “Morning, love,” he greeted Dan gently, planting a kiss on his cheek before grinning happily. “Busy procrastinating?”

 “Yeah,” Dan replied extra loud, grinning right back, “but I’d rather kiss my boyfriend.”

 So they shared a short, cute kiss, making the group behind them gasp loudly. “It’s them,” the girl with the pride flag on her eyelids whispered into the silence stretching between them. Dan grinned.

 “It is,” he confirmed cheekily, turning around to look at her. “Very iconic Make-up by the way, I like it.”

 “Oh my god, thank you,” she answered, a blush becoming apparent on her cheeks and Dan’s grin only got wider before he turned his attention back around to Phil.

 “What was that about?” he asked with a raised eyebrow and his head cutely tilted to the side.

 Dan pecked him on the lips. “Had to make a point.”

 Phil looked back cheekily, a grin on his face so wide Dan was able to see his tongue poking out between his teeth. “A point about what?”

 Dan puffed out his cheeks, feigning huffiness. Phil knew exactly what this was about, and they were both aware of that. “You’re an idiot,” he said, pouting.

 “Yeah, but I’m your idiot.”

 Dan looked at him, eyes full of fondness and adoration and love. “Exactly.”

[v-le]

Ktravels/Klife: Halfway through it all / 첫 학기 끝 !

Foreword: I am almost done! I am almost done with my first semester at Yonsei… damn.

I honestly cannot believe that time flew by so fast. I’ve mentioned this before, but I had been thinking about studying abroad for over a year before coming here. And now that I am about halfway through with this experience… damn, I just have no words. Jk I do, which is why I’m writing this right now lol.

My favorite parts about Korea so far: it is my emotional, musical wonderland. More on that later, but… it’s heart-warming to hear so many of my favorite, treasured artists occasionally on the streets or in a café. And no, not K-pop lol I know nothing about K-pop anymore. In terms of café culture, it’s a love and hate relationship because some of them are just so expensive sigh. BUT, after going to so many different cafes like all around Seoul, I have come to actually have specific preferences for what constitutes a gr8 café (for studying specifically bc that’s all my friends and I mostly do at cafes anyway LOL) hehe:

AFFORDABLE!! No normal person should be paying like 7 or 8 bucks for a goddamn coffee. Base price for drinks should be around 5,000 won. If their iced caramel macchiato costs more than 5,500 won, the place is too expensive.  If it’s less than 5,000 won,

Reasonable cup sizes! Or better, LARGE ONES! (안녕, 낯선 사람 in hongdae has some super bang-for-your-buck coffee drinks, the best I’ve seen!! :^))

Music that isn’t too loud

OUTLETS. OUTLETS ARE A MUST.

Plentiful seats so that it’s never too packed & large-enough tables

Nice temperature (aka not too cold in the winter, not too hot in the summer)

You can sneak in outside food & eat it blatantly even if there are signs saying not to, and no one will ever say anything

Not too crusty: cozy, but clean

A nice, well-maintained bathroom

It may seem impossible to find the perfect café that could meet all of these expectations, but honestly there are just SO many cafes in seoul, that if you search hard enough or have enough luck, some will be out there somewhere :^)

ALSO can I address the business turnover rate here?? Is this why Seoul is considered a fast-paced city?? So many times, my friends I have tried to go to cafes or restaurants or stores we’ve seen online or found on Kakao/Naver Maps, only to arrive and discover that THEY’RE GONE. Even if I did thorough research and found a blog post of a place from 2 months prior, the place is just POOF, disappeared into thin air. This has literally happened countless times and we are flabbergasted each time LOL. As limited as the database of 맛집’s and cafes already is online, the Internet & maps can’t even keep up to date with information either. Businesses open up so randomly fast, too it’s crazy… Mangoplate, the supposed “yelp” of Korea honestly is not that useful either LOL it usually has places on the pricier side, it is also not always up to date, and I just feel like Seoul/Korea has way too many places & businesses worth trying that they can’t even all fit into one database. There are just so many of those un-documentable places. So I suggest: find a neighborhood, go with your friends, take a stroll around the place, and try to stumble upon a place of your liking. Unless you can read Korean & utilize naver blogs (slightly more extensive and useful than mangoplate but still not 100% reliable all the time), then walking around is probably your best bet rather than attempting to do research online. Trust me.

Hmm what else is there… It’s really nice to be able to get/buy anything pretty easily, with convenience. I am afraid I will get too used to this once I go back to the states.

I think once the work started to pick up later in the semester, I definitely started falling into a routine of going to my morning class & then leaving sinchon to run errands elsewhere in Seoul, or simply doing work in the business building which quickly became my go-to spot because 1) outlets, 2) can eat food 3) very nice facility, literally sparkling 4) on campus. It kinda hurts to think that this short-lived routine will be over quite soon, but maybe next semester will be a little more exciting.

Although I haven’t been speaking as much Korean as I would like to, I do feel like my Korean has improved to an extent: (very slightly) vocab-wise, reading-wise, and writing-wise. It is honestly SO refreshing to finally be learning Korean in a formal, classroom setting. It honestly makes me regret not doing it sooner. Why did I lock myself up in my room for 8 years and only settle for learning on my own?? Sigh, it’s okay. I can only get better from here, right? As much as I hate the timing of KLI, I still really do enjoy the class nonetheless and I feel some sort of… growth? I appreciate how all my background knowledge of Korean has helped me up to this point as well. That at least, I can be proud of lol.

With languages and culture in general, throughout the semester, for the first time ever, I got to reflect on how valuable languages are. It is so interesting; I’ll try my best to explain my realizations, but it might come out as gibberish in the end… I really think anyone that has been born & raised in the US should spend a prolonged amount of time abroad. As homogeneous of a society Korea is, being here has opened my eyes to the global society. The society in which multiculturalism is embraced, there is no one correct language of communication, and every member listens to the various cultural values of one another without judgement. I never thought of English as being a powerful language. In fact, I honestly think I have been taking English for granted. I have never realized the immensity of the English language, how the rest of the world vies to master it, and how I have been blessed to have grown up with English as my native tongue. But on the flip-side, learning other languages is just as worthwhile. Communicating in a different language is literally honing a different perspective, mentality, and set of values. You can try to translate target languages into your native tongue for ease of comprehension. Or, what I have come to deeply appreciate and understand is, you can and should take the target language as it is. In order to connect with the language and consequently the culture, stop thinking in terms of your native tongue. Doing this to a deeper extent in Korea than I ever did before has felt extremely rewarding: it makes the language dynamic and exciting to learn. It has led me to cherish specific words or phrases, more so than I already did before arriving here. And it really is just… beautiful. LEARN A SECOND LANGUAGE! EXPLORE GLOBALIZATION!

Quite frankly though, I am disappointed that I haven’t been able to go to as many places as I would like, within in Korea. Okay more like: I am super grateful for the gorgeous places I have been to, but I also wish I could’ve visited those classic, “must-see” places like Busan, Jeju-do, Jeonju, Daegu, etc. I did however, visit lesser known, less expecting (??) places like Gangwon-do (Jumunjin Beach, Gangmun Beach, Gangneung, Yeongwol, Jeongseon, Pyeongchang) & Gyeongju & like Anyang & Seongnam…? Do these last two even count LOL theyre just smoller cities outside of Seoul… but yeah, I guess I’ll just have to save Busan and Jeju and the others for next semester… when I’m not as broke hopefully lmao.

But forreals, I actually really appreciated my trip to Gangwon-do even though it was technically an assignment for one of my courses called “New Media and Digital Storytelling” (shoutout to prof ted for supporting us with this valuable experience!!) because it was literally a breath of fresh air. Seoul is constantly jampacked with people and cars and smog and noises, but Gangneung was still a city, still just as civilized, but much quieter. Granted, nothing much happens out there and some parts are straight up just farming grounds, but the beaches have these stunning sunsets that look like they’re straight out of a graphically-altered fantasy movie. It was stunning and the image still lasts behind my eyes to this day.

One of the other things that I have been struggling to accept is that fact that I feel… unproductive in life? I wish I put myself more out there this semester. Even though I met a good number of locals and have had a few valuable conversations, I never deeply connected with any of them. Plus, almost all of them are going abroad next semester or graduating ☹. I also did not join any clubs or organizations or sports teams nor did I get a job or an internship or do any tutoring or volunteering on the side… I have just been going to class, occasionally spending a lot of money, and then spending some more. Last year at UCI, I feel like I ran into my freshman year with a fiery heart: I joined the badminton team, became a part of the Antleader Mentorship Program (AMP, which I miss so dearly with all of my heart) in fall & winter quarter, and took all upper division education courses my spring quarter as well as fulfilled my fieldwork major requirement by tutoring at a Kindergarten class for 6 hours every week. But coming to Korea, everything felt stagnant. Academically, career-wise, I feel like everything has been on a pause. Granted, many people could tell me that “Oh, you just being in Korea is already so much more than you need! You are doing more than enough, don’t worry”. But am I really?? I beg to differ. I am honestly pretty disappointed in myself and at this point all I can push for is to try to get more involved next semester. It has also been hurting to know that I have been digging into my precious savings that took over 2 long years to build up so quickly :(.

SO yeah, as great as Korea has been, it’s also been money-draining and disappointing from a personal-growth kind of view. Maybe I’m being too hard on myself, but that is also simply my reality. I think I am also choosing to be hard on myself because my luck with all my favorite artists has just been… totally undeserving.

I feel so blessed and “but why me??” at the same time. I have gotten to see Roy Kim four times live (fifth time will be this coming Sunday; the Seoul shows were blessedly scheduled the weekend right before I leave) & he released a new song in September. Eddy Kim, whom ive been waiting 4 years for to come back, finally did so right in the middle of my time here. Fromm, my extremely beloved indie goddess for YEARS now, released a new mini album in November; I got to see her 3 times live, and even attended her breath-taking solo?? Alone?? Personal? 그냥 단독 콘서트. Sam Kim, who I first listened to when I was 15, who has saved my life so many times with his music, finally released a FULL-length album 2 years and 6 months since his debut EP. Not only was I selected to go to his album’s release showcase, but I also got to a meet him through a fansign event. Oh yeah, I also met Fromm through a free fansigning & Eddy Kim through his new album’s fansign event, too. (I will post about these artist-meeting experiences separately because I feel like these three occasions alone have taught me so much). I saw DAY6 live for their third-year debut anniversary and I could feel the immensity and sincerity brimming from their voices, especially with an unfortunately missing member from stage; I will be seeing them soon for their newest music release, which also happened to come out this December. Nam Woohyun of Infinite, the group that I gave my heart to for over a third of my life, the group that I owe so much of my existence to, released another solo mini album, and I was lucky enough to even attend day 3 of his solo concert series; I saw a few other members of Infinite, I could feel my 12-year-old heart screaming & flailing & crying & apologizing from within because I’ve missed them for so long now, and I even heard a never-before released track from him as well. It was a miracle; I saw Woohyun & glimpses of the others on November 4th. Almost exactly 5 years ago in 2013, on November 11th, I went to a concert for the first time in my life and saw those very own loves with my own eyes: Infinite.

ALL OF THESE. ALL OF THESE EVENTS. Have been a blessing. Have been some sort of indescribable, boundless, breath-taking stroke of luck. I promise you, just luck. Roy just somehow decided to take a break from school at Georgetown THIS semester. Eddy Kim, Fromm, Sam Kim, Woohyun, and DAY6 all just somehow decided to release new music within the last half of this year. ME, I, just somehow decided to study abroad not as a 3rd year nor a 4th year, but a mere 2nd year. I decided to leave my home university barely 1 year in, and go to Korea. Just because. Because it felt right and I knew I wanted to, I knew I had to. But never could I have predicted any of these things to happen. Never in a million years. The very artists that I had only been listening to and watching from my computer screen for years as I hid beneath the deep blankets of my bed, the artists that have made me cry on cue because of how beautiful, meaningful, and healing their music is, the artists that seem to barely exist on the Internet, that are so lowkey and precious that I feel like I am the only that really listens to and loves them, the very artists that make my world revolve, that push me to go on when I want to give up, that I owe so much of my life to, all decided to release music, suddenly be active, hold events, and meet their fans in one way or another. Right. When. I am here, too. This sort of timing in life is nothing I had control of. It was all luck and I am just so deeply, infinitely, perpetually, until the end of this world, thankful. Every day I am so thankful. I didn’t ask for any of this, I didn’t hope for it, I didn’t even think about the possibility of these events happening in my life. But they did somehow. And for that, I am just so so so grateful. It’s just crazy to think that years ago, as a sophomore in high school. My heart would bulge with immense affection for these people & their music. They were unreal, almost-fantasy-like existences that made life-saving music and that I cherished so immensely. But little did I know 4 or 5 years later, this could happen to me. That there was actually a worth to loving these almost “nobody” musicians. I just constantly feel like I am always receiving from them, and never giving back. I really do owe them so much. Thank you, to my beloved artists. For everything.

Moving on to the people that have made my first semester here at Yonsei even brighter: our dumbass squad consisting of lil hoorey, 왕언니 ana, smol laura, dumbass closted weaboo Wilson, & even dumber josh LOL I am so blessed to have met such funny, stupid, understanding friends. Before arriving to Korea, I was STRESSED that I wouldn’t be able to find friends because I hate alcohol, I hate clubbing, I hate mainstream K-pop and simply many parts of popular Korean culture are things that I am not particularly a fan of. But thankfully, I have found an endearing group of friends that share these same sentiments. These reliable people have honestly shaped so much of my experiences here and I am forever thankful. IT JUST SUCKS THAT I AM THE ONLY ONE STAYING FOR A YEAR LOL. But yes, thank you friends, for everything <3 .

Have I exhausted all of my thanks at this point?? Probably not. But I’ll save those for my own heart and mind to cherish. Going abroad was and has been and will be an experience that I don’t think I could ever properly express with words alone. I think it’s always like that when it comes to these rants LOLLL. I rant because I need to vent these feelings and emotions and flaring thoughts. But I just end up struggling to articulate everything and get my heart across properly. Sigh.

Homesickness? Is this something I was supposed to address? Maybe exchange students are probably expected to always talk about this. But for me, it was a nonexistent notion. Being born and raised in the bay area, having lived in the same exact house, having slept in the same creaky, old bed for 18 years in a row, has provided me with a comfort that I probably take for granted more than I should, but has also left me with an intense urgency to explore more, see more, do more, and just breathe more. The Bay Area can be extremely toxic and suffocating in so many ways, and it a space that I know I can go back to whenever my heart desires, but it is also a space that I do not wish to prolong my stay in any further. My immediate family has also never been a significant part of my life: I have never relied on them for emotional nor mental support. Maturing into an adult with this sort of detachment has hindered and helped me in countless ways. There were definitely times throughout my life where I despised them for the way in which everything turned out. For how miserable or lonely or stuck or negligent I sometimes felt. But I know that without that detachment, I would not be where I am today. To my next semester at Yonsei, you look questionable, daunting, and exciting. I honestly can’t even begin to imagine what will be in store for me. All I can wish for is health & happiness.

가즈으으아!!~

[namjoonchronicles]

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#2 : The Downside of Capitalism.

How do one decide between good and bad? What makes the good, good? And the bad, bad? When the line that divides it becomes a mirage, how do one justify what not to do, and what’s to be done?

Because life did not come with manuals.

For Namjoon, the world is blinded by the thirst to conquer, to obtain, to own, to have. He worked hard to be where he is, and yet to him, they are not enough. They are never enough. A gifted student his whole life, scholarship is his dream. Unlike the others, he was not born with the silver spoon in his mouth and yet, here he is, surrounded by ‘winners’.

Yes, he calls them winners—the privileged. Bashful and proud with the things their parents bought for them, never had a day where food was not on the table, having not to worry about going jobless for a year because their family made enough—so being wealthy is Namjoon’s end point.

Money was tight at home, so he hones his brain to be sharper than most, and sealed his place in this college for the rich and outstanding. And Namjoon felt like he was on top of the world. And kept climbing.

He shoved his newly borrowed books into the bag, phone pressed to his ear as his eyes, unfocused while he carefully listened to his mother spoke, “...But mom, I gave her pocket money last three days, are you telling me that it already ran out?” He fidgets his eyes to a small bright neon pink notes on the base of the locker, took it out without reading, and slammed the locker door shut, “...I’ll see what I can do, but I can’t promise.” End call.

He sighed and looked down at the screen with a hard expression—furrowed brows, narrowed eyes, crinkled forehead and thumb scrolling down the phone’s wrecked screen. He double tapped the bank icon and quickly check his account balance. It loads auspiciously slow this time, the irony.

The fact that it loads longer, when he needs it to be quick than the time where he wasn’t worried about the amount, is ironic. And.

As expected.

The numbers aren’t great. His bank account were not great. Namjoon is not going to last this month. Not with that stash. Not at all. He would have to go starving a few days until the next allowances come in. Which is no sooner than the middle of next month. And it’s only the 18th.

He clenched his eyes shut and let out harsh exhale through his nostril before he puts away his phone into the back pocket of his faded and aging denim. “This can’t do...” he mutters to him and crumpled the pink neon notes before it gets to be read. And as he about to discard them in the bin in the hallway, he straightens them, realizing that he hadn’t read what it says.

“Do you tutor? Please call me.” He looked at the time.

2:17PM. There’s a class.

Fuck, I’m late. Namjoon dashes across the hallway, through the open park where the water fountain is, jumped over the benches, sputtering apologies like he is spitting rap verses. Lecture Hall B. I made it.

He pushes the door and saw several students walking in leisurely, and felt a pang of relief when he discovers that he wasn’t very late. The professor has just started setting up his laptop, fumbling with the cables and wires, stack of papers on the desk while a female student wait by his side. His lips were moving, pursing and milling unheard words, especially at the distance Namjoon was standing at--he couldn’t hear a thing.

The professor settles his work station just in time as Namjoon chose a seat. Namjoon didn’t take out any books but chose to lace his fingers together and patiently wait. He saw the professor passed a marked paper to the girl and she walked away with a sullen expression. She took the seat in the farthest row in that lecture hall, walking past Namjoon with her head down.

“...afternoon.” The professor greeted before he continued to pass the marked papers around the class. “...I marked most of it on my vacation in Greece. Most of you made me pretty pleased, while some are just, completely missing the point of the whole assignment.” Namjoon obtains his, with a perfect score and a single yet, empowering comment by the professor himself, “Simply brilliant.”

He bit his lips, not smiling much but his neighboring colleague congratulates him with a single slap on the shoulder, “...You scholarship guys are too much...don’t you have enough A’s in line already?” Namjoon sparked a quick smile before putting his papers to face down and have the marks and comments, covered. No, he wasn't ashamed. People tend to be envious about the little things in life, and he thought the act would mirror something called, humility. The lecture begins with some intergration practice, before the professor delves into a more complicated differentiation and deviation.

While others scrambling to take notes or take pictures of the slide, recording video or struggling to write in an insane speed, Namjoon sits back and crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes at the board, peering at calculations the professor laid across, doing mental maths because he predicts that he is about to ask one of the students in the hall to complete them for him, “...volunteers?”

A good third half of the class lowered their heads in hopes of never getting chosen. The professor tips his eyes at one confident pair of irises, with his arms crossed and laid back, the relaxed Namjoon—and he smiled with a little shake of his head. The professor then drops his gaze to his finger on his laptop and called a name.

Hers. The girl Namjoon saw earlier. The one standing by the professors’ desk when he came in. The one who took her marked papers with a sad expression on her face, walking up and avoiding Namjoon’s air. Her name.

“Oh sir. Please..not me, I can’t—I don’t...” Namjoon casted his eyes downward to write down his answers with a pen he borrowed from the one sitting next to him while she started rambling.

“Come down here.” The professor demanded. “There must be something you learnt through out the last semester, that’s why you’re here in the second semester. Come on...” he said and you climbed down one step at a time. “...write whatever you know.” He added and handed you a marker.

Gulping, you uncapped the marker and then recap it while staring at the equation before you, for at least five minutes.

“Prof! We don’t got all day!” One of the students yelled and you were visibly shakened. Namjoon threw a side glance to the back of the student’s head, disapproving his reckless comments, allowing a small scoff to leave his lips. The professor held his palm outward at the immature student and clicked his tongue. “...why are you in this course, sweetie?” The professor asked gently, as he straightens up from leaning against the desk, not expecting an answer from you, before asking you to return to your seat with the downcast of his eyes.

You laid the capped marker down and walked back to your seat, climbing up a few steps while Namjoon climbed down.

And again, you dropped your head while he had his chin up, took the marker you laid down and wrote his calculations with one hand in the pocket, scribbling the final answer with great ease. “Thank you.” The professor darted and Namjoon bowed with respect before returning to his desk. The class ended a few minutes later and before the professor could even finish his words, you were already dashing out the door, disrupting his ending speech. You caught everybody's attentions, including Namjoon's. The door slams shut after you. He nodded once and the students dismissed.

Namjoon shoved his paper in his bag and zipped them up. The class is half empty now, with students exiting one by one or in groups, Namjoon walked down the flight of stairs of the huge lecture hall, greeted by some pretty ladies, congratulating him, shyly. One of the hottest girls in the class handed him an invitation to a party in an expensive nightclub closest to the college, he smiled in appreciation and almost made it to the back door when the professor called his name.

“Yes, Prof?” He turned around and walked to the desk.

Big dollops of tears fell on top of the assignment paper, heavily stained with red crosses, scribbles on top of scribbles, large circles around certain words and then some painful remarks. At the top right hand corner, the professor wrote aggressive cursive in red ink, “See me!”

Another teardrops fell. The writings swells where the tears fell.

Disappointed. Disheartened. Heavily distraught. All these words doesn’t even compensate how you actually felt.

The worthlessness kicks back into you, lowered your confidence, and humbled you. I don’t have what it takes to be here. Your lips quivered as your face was covered by your hair, sitting on the last step of a stairwell people usually avoid using, unless there’s a fire drill. Head started to pound, drilling because you cried so hard, the muscle around your eyes started to swell, your face is now puffy beyond recognition. You could feel it. You don’t have to see it.

Holding the paper before you, you tore them down the middle, and repeated the process until they’re size of your palm. Pulling your bag’s strap over your shoulders, your notes and purse and whatever that’s left of your invisible strength, you yank the door heading out of the stairwell, back to the college hallways. You threw the shredded papers into the bin. It had no covers. Gathering what’s left of your pride, you avoided the cafeteria where most of your colleagues are and locked yourself in your room. For an hour, maybe two, maybe the whole day. Maybe, even tomorrow as well.

Phone vibrating. Yours. “Hello?” “Cover you? Today? Sure.” Maybe locked yourself, later.

Namjoon stared at the shredded paper in the bin. His grip on the bag straps tightens as he clamp his lower lips between his teeth. He blinks at it, knowing exactly who it belongs to, unsure what to do with the information he just obtained from staring at it, breathes in and in a split second, someone discarded their Americano and stained the whole paper. Your name was still visible. Namjoon took a look at his half filled cup of coke, took a tiny sip before expelling the rest into the bin, on top of the same paper. Now your name is gone. No one will know who threw their graded assignment in the bin and tore it to half. No one.

Namjoon spends the rest of his day, lazying in the basketball court, dribbling the basketball, shooting hoops and laughing with his friends. He sat on the bleachers, talking about new music videos, and cool movies they’ve watched or plan to watch. Some of them pointed out that party that was happening, hosted by that hot girl in class. Namjoon’s passion died a little when they mentioned about it. He wasn’t too excited to go a place that is crowded and loud and simply overpriced for a mediocre joy.

Loud noises, getting whacked drunk and grinding on girls might be fun to some, but not to Namjoon. Definitely not his cup of tea.

“Come on dude, they’ll have discounts if you show them your invitation card... don’t scholarship dudes have fun too??” They pestered him, pushing his knees, and Namjoon dropped his gaze down the middle before looking up at the far distant, and passed, “...Some people hates things you don’t. It’s a huge planet.. incase you forgot.”

And that’s when he saw it.

Those legs lunging across the unused basketball court, with a tiny backpack, hair in a bun and a uniform worn by employees of a fried chicken parlor. The girl who threw her marked paper into the bin, left it; shredded and unwanted. And as if you felt eyes on you, you glanced at the direction where Namjoon was sitting—a white bleacher with a ball in his hands, knees wide spread and squinted eyes. He broke off the contact first, turns away, as if he saw nothing. You turned away too.

You had no time to waste. Certainly not on him.

Namjoon went to look at your back as you continued to walk away, to the university entrance, exiting. He watched you write your name on the record book and running to the bus that takes students to town, from the bleacher while his friends danced obscenely. “...aren’t we forbidden to find jobs outside the universities?” Namjoon suddenly spikes in the uproarious conversation, making the laughter die. “Don’t know. Never had to work.” They shrugged.

Of course they won’t know. What would rich fools know about the struggles the middle class had to face everyday?

“Why? Is your money tight?” They asked. Namjoon dropped his head down, dribbling the basketball while sitting, he nodded a bit. This wasn't something he would have shared, mindlessly, but he thought if he didn't tell someone, the thought would have burdened him. The earlier conversation with his mom came back to him.

“She needs to pay the tuition this month, if not, she’ll be excluded. She’s not as smart as you, Namjoon. She needs this class...they’ll pry on her. It’ll stress her...and she won’t do well.” Namjoon could tell that she’s tired. Mother would never have called if she didn’t need to. Namjoon’s younger sister would have never called to tell him this.

“How much?” Namjoon pauses for his mother to answer and blinked, “...I’ll see what I can do, but I can’t promise.” End call.

His friend glanced over his shoulder, jumps over a seat, and rested his elbow on Namjoon’s shoulder and, “...you know what to do.” He wriggled his eyebrows. Namjoon took a moment to realised what he was talking about and when he did, he winces his shoulder away from this friend.

“What...what?” The other fellow with the Air Jordan shoes perks up.

“Why? It involves no drugs, no sexual intercourse, no hooligans, it’s perfect Namjoon!” The guy leans closer, “You did it before, you can do it again.”

Air Jordan guy hoisted up in his seat. “... do what?”

The other fellow, scooches closer to Namjoon. “Everybody knows that women, drugs and booze brings the money, Joon. All of that is illegal, I don’t need to brief you on that because your genius ass would have found out most of it by now... that’s why I have a preposition. We can start this again.”

And this time, wealthier clients, a more foul-proof plans with greater than 75 per cent success rates.

“With you around Namjoon, we can easily have 98.99 per cent sealed deals.”

Namjoon returned to his dorm. He laid in his bed. “1 million, 2 million. 15 students. Each.” He stared up his ceiling, his chin portruding, brows furrowing , eyes narrowed. If he agrees, and he keep up the pace, he would easily close in a 300 million won in account. His younger sister doesn’t have to worry about tuition fees, being excluded of classes. He would be able to pay off the debts his father left, his mother can leave her job, and he will be paying his younger sisters’ college fees until she graduates. And maybe even a little more after that. He is going to give his sister the life he always dreamt of.

Today, there is a quiz. 75 questions. A mock exam. All objectives with five options: A, B, C, D and E.

The scores will help in the GPA. 5%. 

You stood outside, while other people walked in confidently, without hesitation, you were knotting your fingers together, sweating profusely, as if you’ve been running a marathon. Uncapping your water bottle, you gulped a monstrous amount of water since morning. No, since last night, because you didn’t sleep trying to prepare for this exams.

And still feel that you’re lacking. None of your preparations would ever make you feel enough. You felt like fighting a losing battle. Its monstrously unmotivating thoughts, few minutes before entering an exam.

Now that you’re standing at its door. All is in shreds.

“Relax, you won’t get anything from being nervous about it.” A deep voice passed, and walked past you. You didn’t have to look to know who it was. There’s only one voice you know to be that deep,

“Namjoon.” Your heart whispered. He held the door open for you but you shook your head, not yet ready. He tipped his head and walked in.

It made you smile.

But the nervousness remains, even if the amount severely diminish, it was still there, the remnants. As irritating and totally unneeded it was, you sincerely hoped that for once, you don’t have the ability to feel, to have emotions, to be scared, to have fear. It was just an exam, you said to yourself.

Namjoon sat a few seats before you. He sat relaxed, his shoulders sturdy, listening to perhaps, classical music in his earphones. He rolls his head around, his long, almost feminine-like fingers, clutches the back of his shoulder blade, massaging himself while the students take their seats and the professor wrote the exam details on the board.

“Hurry in, the exam is about to begin.”

Heart pounding against your chest and ringing in your ear, you can feel the panic, setting in you as the hall grew quieter, more silence and rigid, as the seconds passed. “Do you have extra pencil?” A lushious voice drilled into your hazy thoughts and you jumped in your seat.

It was the everly beautiful and stunning, Kim Seokjin—whose face is as impressive as his lineage. “Quickly, I don’t have time...” he averts his eyes to your pen, “...Celebrex.” He called you. And if you thought it was rude to call someone by everything else but their name, Kim Seokjin are one of those people in campus who was allowed to call a human, a walking trashcan—if he wanted to. He simply had that much power around.

And if you think that this college is filled with the obnoxiously wealthy, the top 1 per cent, the money machines? Seokjin owns half of what everyone here, owns. He is the rare, 0.25 per cent—the people who are deemed as wealthy as the kings and queens, and some said, perhaps even more. So rich, they could be called royalties, of their own class. It is not an exaggeration if they were to be named: The Korean Rothschilds.

You handed him your pencil. And took another one out with an eraser. He blinks at you, and tilt his head to one side. “...incase the tip breaks.” You shrugged. You thought he would need the eraser since he clearly came without basic stationeries, but he took only the extra pencil. “I won’t be needing that.” He eyed the eraser. Then. He walked off in a relaxed stride. He was the last one to sit and he chose the seat next to Namjoon. Everyone avoided the desk as if it brings bad luck or something. The professor knows Seokjin was taking his sweet time but said nothing to haste him—like he did everybody else.

That was how much power Seokjin had.

The professors can’t say a word to him. His family pays the lecturers here, owns most of the building built here and of all his family members, Seokjin is the fifth generation to be educated here. Namjoon stabs the pencil on the desk, repeatedly when the exam papers were being passed down. Upon the starting minute, he didn’t even began immediately like everybody else did.

You were already muttering the questions, having hushed by your neighboring desks, violently—eyes wildly scanning and unfocused. Sweats beading on your forehead and in your palms.

Seokjin were spelling his name on the piece of paper, taking time with every stroke of letters, humming his favourite tune that changes everyday. Today, it was The Story I Didn’t Know by IU.

While Seokjin is humming, Namjoon is considerably relaxed. He picks up his pen, started from the back because he was not one to do things in mannerly order. Doing things in sequence, harnesses his brains’ clockwork. And sequences kills creativity. Not one to stick his brain in a boring, sequential thinking methods, Namjoon would do things most people won’t have thought.

Around 9:45, Namjoon set his pen down. Several heads lifts up and dart their eyes to Namjoon’s seat. He stretches his arms. You looked up, briefly. Seokjin was turning his head to Namjoon. While answering, Namjoon had pushed his answer sheet to the edge, on accident. You darted your eyes to Seokjin in between reading the problems in your paper and witnessed a very suspicious action.

Seokjin kept glancing to Namjoon’s answer sheet, and marking his own.

He is copying Namjoon’s answers.

You were down to two more questions. And because you couldn’t answer them, you scribbled on the options and gathered your papers together. You were turning in your exam and answer sheet. Leaving your seat, you purposely dropped your papers next to Namjoon’s desk. You shifted to the one that was written in block letters until Namjoon looked down to see, “Seokjin is copying your answers.”

Namjoon watched you gather your things. Walking to the front desk where the solo exam inivigilator was seated, half asleep, you placed your papers down. “Finished?” The professor asked and you simply nodded. “Sir...” you hesitantly say, fist by your side, “Kim Seokjin is copying Kim Namjoon’s answer.”

The professor, a bit younger than the professor who was giving out papers in the beginning, tilted his chin up, “Kim Seokjin?” He pauses and grinned slyly, “...no he didn’t. And you didn’t see anything. Did you?” You gulped.

It was the kind of power Kim Seokjin had. You walked out with an ominous feeling.

Namjoon was about to make his way through the library entrance when a message from the bank beeped in. “An amount has been transferred to you by Kim Seokjin...” Namjoon saw the numbers in his bank double up. Called his mother and paid up his sisters’ tuition fee in full. Namjoon felt liberated. He has done his duty. Easy money.

And he kept doing it. For a year and a half.

Namjoon goes to exam centres, taking exams and giving out answers to the clients that pays him. He come up with various ways to deliver his answers and his methods differs from one exams to another. The last one he used in his high schooldays almost got him caught, but they had no concrete evidence to charge him—only blind accusations from an unhappy clients.

That was the only reason why he stopped. And then he sworn to be straight.

But money was tight, so he got persuaded to do it again. As long as he doesn’t get caught. Even if he did, he won’t be imprisoned. You won’t get imprisoned from cheating in exams. Study hard to earn yourself a degree to work at a 9 to 5 pace with a five figure yearly income, or; do this and get seven to eight incomes at once?

The choice is clear, isn't it?

But Namjoon isn’t giving up on his scholarships or his college degree. He was doing this so he could have more. Even more than a three-part time jobs could have ever provided.

Because, fuck morality right?

"Yes, prof? Anything I can help with?" Namjoon tipped his head up to the graying hair of the professor after everyone left the lecture hall.

"The girl I called earlier... she's not doing so well. If she doesn't improve, I will have to have her lined to expulsion. I was wondering, if you would do some tutoring sessions, perhaps? Help her, or simply, look out for her?

If it's not too much to ask, maybe...guide her?"