#the students in his uni classes think hes cool and intimidating… little do they know he goes home and turns into a marshmallow

[weathertheraine]

Local cool + aloof guy floored daily by the fact that his long-term boyfriend likes him

[youremeimyou]

Old Lovers

pairing: Min Yoongi x reader genre: angst with sprinkles of fluff, ex-boyfriend au word count: almost 5k warning: some passionate kissing

Description: Min Yoongi is your ex-boyfriend that you’ve parted ways not on the greatest of terms with. But in the makings of a mixtape, somethings will be rekindled. Will it be friendship or maybe more?

A/N: I’ve started writing this so long ago but only recently got to finish it. I haven’t been able to post any fics in a while even though I’ve got a lot of wip. I’m graduating uni and my life’s basically a chaos right now. But I liked writing this a lot. I hope you enjoy! Please let me know what you think of it :) [posting again cuz it’s not showing on tags ughh]

Going back to school has never been this painful to you before. Of course assingments, exams and longer than necessary lectures were always there to welcome you back to hell every year but no new semester intimidated you quite like this one does. Especially after the very much disconnected summer break you had.

Spending the summer in your hometown of Gwangju was a rushed decision that was actually forced upon you at the time. But it turned out to be exactly what you needed. At least, Hoseok made sure that it was. Being your life-long friend, he took matters into his own hands when you couldn't pull yourself together after the rough patch you've been through. The Hoseok-ie rule he called it: No getting in touch with anyone in Seoul. And while it was a little hard not reaching out to close friends in Seoul, you couldn't risk breaking the Hoseok-ie rule. He's sweet and you love him but that guy is one scary motherfucker when he's pissed.

Now, summertime's over and you're definetely not prepared to face your demons. It doesn't help that Hoseok's classes aren't starting until next week, either. That means you have to go through this alone.

On your way from the subway station to the campus, you check the new weekly schedule once more and it makes you let out a dissappointed huff. You can't blame anyone. You made this schedule. But do you have any idea why you decided to put music theory at 9 in the morning while you were making it? No.

Your legs take action before you know it and suddenly you're now turning to the other street. They continue to take you through another familiar path. As you close in on the shop at the corner, the calming smell of coffee reaches your nose and you realise why coming here was more tempting than attending class.

This coffee shop was your safe haven for the past three years and this semester isn't going to be any different. Even though it's so close to campus, not many people know about it and it's never hectic. Which is something you love and right now, definetely need. Some peace and quiet before starting the semester...

You enter and head straight to the barista, who happens to be a friend of yours since you're a regular.

"Hey Ryu."

"Well well, if it isn't Miss I'll come everyday this summer that never showed up once." Ryu has sarcasm alongside with mischief in his voice.

"I know but Hoseok kept me in Gwangju as a prisoner the whole summer, I'm sorry."

"Where's that dancing machine?"

"He doesn't have classes until next week so it's just me for now." You're still not over the fact he left you on your own for the first week.

"It's fine, you're not alone. Look!" Ryu points to the back where the tables are. You're confused as to who he could be pointing at. You and Hoseok are the only ones you know that come here- except...

In a flash, you stop turning around and hurriedly order a black coffee. "Please make it quick." you plead quietly but what's done is done, he already knows you're here. In fact you can hear footsteps approaching.

"That drink was great, dude. What's it called again?" He appears on your right side in his all-black outfit with a snapback. Nothing's changed about him, you think. Except you see some of his hair through the hat and it seems to be bleached. Something he hasn't done for a while. For the two years you two were together, to be exact.

"Oh, it's called yuanyang. You think I should put it on the menu?"

"Definetely, go for it."

It seems like he doesn't even acknowlegde the fact that you're right next to him. But why the hell did he even come here? You totally introduced him to this place and Ryu. So, you should get to keep this place after the break-up. Aren't those the rules?

He takes out his wallet to pay but pauses for a second. "Ryu, can I get two cookies to go?" he asks and hands over his card.

Two cookies? You know he doesn't like sugaries that much. You're almost sure he's meeting someone and it makes you scoff, unconsciously. Both him and Ryu side-eye you but you avert your gaze. "Chocolate ones, please." he adds. You think he must be ordering your favorites just to spite you.

He recieves the cookies from Ryu, fistbumps the guy and starts walking out. But then, just as he passes by you, he leaves one of the cookies on the counter in front of you and exits without another word.

First, you're shocked. And so is Ryu, apparently. You glance at him and he confusedly shrugs. Then, you're pissed. In a moment of anger, you blast out of there to go after him.

"Hey, Min Yoongi!" you shout.

He stops but doesn't turn around for a while. Just when he's about to, you appear right in front of him, the cookie in your hand.

"What's this?"

"What does it look like to you?" he retorts back, his eyes avoiding yours. And you frustratedly huff.

"What are you trying to pull?" you ask with hints of accusation in your voice. That's when he meets your gaze.

"Nothing at all. My fault for trying to be nice."

There it is, the Min Yoongi venom you were waiting for. He opens his mouth to say something else but you beat him to it.

"Ryu doesn't seem to know that we-" you pause. And immediately regret pausing. Why couldn't you just say it?

"Oh, right. You must be thinking that life stopped while you were away." And only as he says this that you notice the dark circles under his eyes. "He knows. So do a lot of other people, by the way."

Well, shit. You might've been away from all the post-breakup commotion but he was here. He was dealing with everyone of your social circle, alone. And what's the first thing you do when you see him for the first time after all that? Lashing out at him. And when he was just trying to be nice, too. Great...

"Can you move? I'm missing class." he says coldly. But despite trying to hide it, his voice sounds tired. Which makes you step out of his way and let him go. Instead, you start making your own way to class, being already late as it is.

Safe to say it's an awkward walk to campus, with you on one side of the street and Yoongi on the other. The bad news is, you constantly find yourself looking his way. Even though you curse under your breath everytime you catch yourself staring at him, you can't help but look again. But his eyes are completely fixed on the road, not even sparing you one glance.

To escape the awkwardness, you decide taking the longer route to class by heading for the stairs at the back while he takes the ones near the entrance. Since you're late and afraid of Professor Sol, you fasten your pace. Once you reach the door, your hand clashes into someone else's. Yoongi's. Of course, you think to yourself. You should've known he's taking music theory from Professor Sol. He's the best student when it comes to music and the best teacher here definetely wants him on his class.

It's too late when you realise you haven't removed your hand because he opens the door with yours under his, making it feel as though you're holding hands.

"So you finally decided to grace us with your presence? You shouldn't have. The class is about to end." Professor Sol scolds the two of you. She isn't exactly wrong. "I can pardon a student who already excells but the one who barely passes classes, I hope you know what you're doing Miss Y/N." One thing about her is that she notoriously discriminates between students and she's never liked you.

Yoongi's hand and yours is still connected and you feel him tense up. He actually used to be your guardian when it came to Professor Sol. And apparently old habits die hard because he grabs your hand harder and steps up a little. "The last I checked, at least eighty percent of your class fails every year, professor. It includes people who rank highest in some of the other classes. Strange, don't you think?"

Only Min Yoongi has the guts to do this. And only he gets a free pass after doing it. When the professor simply points you in the direction of the seats, Yoongi pulls you by the hand he’s still holding and sits you down. There’s immediately talk going around, people discussing if you were back together and all that. That’s when he snaps out of it and lets your hand go. So you’re finally able to let out the breath you were unknowingly holding. Then, he goes to one of the back seats and sits down himself. And you quietly wonder why that hurts you.

It's Hoseok's first day back and the two of you are enjoying some coffee at Ryu's shop, after a long school day.

"Y/N, I've got some bad news." he says, looking gloomy all of a sudden.

"Wha- hurry up and tell me." You hate the suspense, it makes you worry.

"I haven't been able to find a studio that we can continue the album with." He looks really upset. That's only natural, he's been working on this project for over a year now. Before you broke up with Yoongi, Hoseok was writing and producing a mixtape in Yoongi's studio with you and Yoongi's help. After you parted ways, the mixtape was put on hold.

"I've saved a lot of money this summer. We can look into some expensive ones too, I'm sure we can-"

"It's not the money, Y/N. I can't work on it the way I want to in any of those other studios. Even if it's one of the expensive ones." he cuts in. Yes, Yoongi was probably the only person to let Hoseok do his own thing.

"Well then, you should talk to Yoongi. I'm sure he'll be cool with working with you, still. As long as I don't show up, it should be fine."

He rolls his eyes. "I can't do it without you, Y/N. I'll need your help, so you'll have to show up eventually."

It's your turn to roll your eyes. You don't want anything to do with that studio. But you know how important this mixtape is to Hoseok, so you say okay. Even though you doubt Yoongi would be fine with you being there.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. In his damned, cursed, beautiful leather jacket... This time there's no hat so you can fully observe his bleached hair and notice how it's grown longer.

"Would you really be okay with it? I don't wanna put you in this position, no. Let's just forget it-"

"Hoseok-ie, you're lovely. But for now, shut up." You get up and make your way to Yoongi's table. Hoseok's mixtape has to be done, no matter what. Seems like he hasn't noticed you so you clear your throat to grab his attention.

"What?" he asks, not looking at you. Your blood slowly starts to boil.

"I need to ask you something-"

"Ryu, I kinda need that coffee asap, buddy!" He cuts you off by hollering at the barista and starts to gather his things. He really must want to get on your nerves.

"Actually, first things first, why in the bloody hell are you still coming here?" You can't help but lash out again. You discovered this place after all, you have the right to claim it.

"Excuse me?"

"I showed you this place, it's my territory. Don't you know the break-up rules?"

He laughs at that. In such a condescending way that you regret saying it. He stops getting ready and settles on the table once again. "You're cute."

Oh, you're so close to smacking him on the head.

"And you're an asshole."

Ryu comes with Yoongi's order and leaves it on the table. "I thought you were in a hurry." He says while heading back to the counter.

"I suddenly wanna stay longer." Yoongi states, looking straight at you.

Every fiber of your being wants to avoid his eyes and run away from there, he knows exactly how to make you vulnerable. But you endure. For Hoseok.

"I'll get to the point. Hoseok needs to keep working with you. Our situation shouldn't effect his mixtape, don't you think?"

He switches to serious mode quickly. "Was this your idea or his?"

"What does it matter-"

"I'm only okay with it if he wants to do it on his own will and not by you forcing him."

Okay, you do get a little bossy sometimes but he didn't have to put it as harsh as that.

"He wants to. He refused other studios and all that."

You think you see his lips curve into a small smile for a second. Hoseok and Yoongi got along very well, actually. You never wanted for them to stop being friends, anyway. This might be a chance for them to catch up even. Of course, there's a slight problem.

"But- he says he can't do it without... well, me. He wants to make sure that you're okay with-"

"Not a problem." Yoongi unexpectantly cuts you off. You're rendered speechless due to shock. He finally turns his head and looks at you. "My studio is a workplace, Y/N. Why would it bother me when you're there for work purposes? Especially when you're essential to the process."

Yoongi's sense of kindness is a very strong thing. But it's well hidden under all the coldness and sarcasm. You'd know, it had taken you a while to get to it. But when you did, it made you fall for him even harder at the time. And now, even though things between you are over, you can still see it.

"Thanks..." is all you can say while turning around to go back but suddenly your feet stop and turn back around. "Actually, thanks for before with Professor Sol, too. Even though you don't need to stand up for me anymore-"

"It's not that I needed to, Y/N. It's that I wanted to."

He goes back to gathering his stuff and you head back to give Hoseok the details of how it went. Just as you're about to, Yoongi stops by your table before leaving.

"Hoseok-ie, text me later to come up with a schedule for studio hours, okay?"

Hoseok is visibly happy and responds with a big smile. "Sure thing."

It's been three weeks since Hoseok started to work at Yoongi's studio again. But today is the first time that you'll be going there since the break-up. Even though time has passed, you're still not used to being around Yoongi all the time. Like having to attend almost all the classes with him and also, well... without him.

Without him sitting next to you, practically glued to your side, while you both silently giggle in the middle of the lecture as he whispers stupid jokes in your ear. The fact that you're consantly around him (not by choice by the way) prevents you from getting over him.

And now the studio... One of the most dangerous places for you now because of the memories you have with him there. You know, an intimate, indoor space with dim lights... A perfect spot for activities you definitely don't want to be reminded of. But for your best friend Hoseok, you have to go.

When you arrive, you call Hoseok to open up the door, too nervous to ring the doorbell. Once you enter, your giggly friend drags you hurriedly into the recording room.

"Okay warm your voice up. We should start with the vocals-"

"Wow there, pickle." you say. Vocals were maybe the only thing you told him you wouldn't do. What did he think? That he could hurry you into it and you wouldn't notice? "What vocals, Hoseok? I'm here to arrange, mix and maybe write some melodies, you know that."

"Shhh... look you gotta. Otherwise Yoongi's gonna have some other girl do it and I don't want that."

What girl? For as long as you can remember, Yoongi has tried to get you to sing. For Hoseok's and other albums. But you don't have confidence in your voice so you've always refused. And now he just wants some other girl?

"Have you told him you don't want that?"

"Yes, obviously. He told me if I can't convince you, we had no other choice. So c'mon, just try for me? Pleaseee?"

You sneakily glance out the window to see Yoongi talking with the said girl. She’s probably from your school even though you haven’t seen her here before. She’s standing a bit too close to Yoongi’s chair and leaning on him a little but that’s none of your business. And you definetely don’t care. But still, you can’t have someone whom Hoseok’s not comfortable with, sing in his own damn album.

You go out the room and toward Yoongi and the girl. “We need to speak.” you say and head for the other room. Yoongi huffs while following after you.

“What is it miss grumpy?”

You roll your eyes. “Are you really pulling an ultimatom on me like this? Hoseok clearly isn’t okay with this girl-”

“Hoseok isn’t okay with anyone but you. This isn’t my ultimatom, it’s his. Marley’s like the third person I asked to do this and he didn’t like any of them. Because what he wants is your voice. You really can’t see that Y/N?”

He sounds fed up and exhausted. What he says makes sense too, since you know how stubborn and sneaky your best friend can be.

He continues. “Look, if we want the album to proceed there are three options. First is Marley does the vocals and Hoseok will be unhappy about it. Second is there’ll be no female vocals which will make the whole thing empty and far from what we planned. Or third, you can do them and save us all the grimace.”

He makes it seem like he doesn’t care which you’ll go with but in his eyes, you can see hope that you’ll say yes to the third. But no. You’re not ready, you can’t. In your mind, you suck. So you convince Hoseok to go with Marley for now.

So, days go by. Marley comes pretty often to record. Hoseok’s not frowning that much about it anymore. And you notice how every chance she gets, Marley is pulling the moves on Yoongi. Which seem to work, since sometimes they come in or leave together. None of it bothers you at all, you tell yourself.

One day, you come in pretty late at night remembering you left your notes there. Since you have a spare key, you think you can be in and out unnoticed. Silly you because once you hear Yoongi playing the piano, you can’t just leave. You wait outside the room until he’s done and some stupid momentary courage makes you go in.

“Oh- I’m sorry.” you instantly say when you see Marley sitting next to him. “I just forgot my- I was leaving-”

“Wait!” Yoongi says hurridly to stop you. “We were done here anyway.”

Marley doesn’t look happy but gets up and leaves.

“No really, I got my notes and I was about to head out. She doesn’t need to leave on my account-”

“It’s not on your account. But since you came in here, you must have something to say?”

Why does it feel like he wants you to say something? Why does it seem like he wants you to stay? You’re convinced it’s your own mind playing tricks on you.

“No. I don’t.” you lie with a broken voice. But your feet aren’t leaving. And Yoongi is still staring at you with a cold attitude but expecting eyes.

“Fine.” you give up and say. “I thought the piano room wasn’t allowed to just anyone. I guess since she was in here...” you cut yourself off. The piano room was kind of your special place when you were together. Nobody other than you was allowed in here. This is the place you two would spend hours and hours coming up with songs. Or just talking about things you shared only with each other.

“I’m just giving her piano lessons for some extra cash. And this room doesn’t mean much to me anymore.”

His answer dissappoints you. Not the part that he indirectly said they weren’t dating. The latter part. “And here I thought the whole secrecy of the piano room was just your way of pulling the moves on whoever you’re dating.” As long as the sentence is finished, you regret saying it. You know it isn’t right. What you said is unfair to every intimate and meaningful moment you had with him here. And your words come down like the last drop on his patience.

He shoots out of the seat. “If I wasn’t so goddamn sure that you already know how you’re the first person I ever brought in here, I’d be hurt. But instead I’m just pissed.”

He’s right to be. So you can’t say anything back.

“How can you even-” he stops for a moment. “But that’s just your way, isn’t it? Spit out venom whenever you don’t like something.”

“Me?” you ask in shock. Now this you can’t have. “No. Poisonous words are your specialty.”

“And you already left me for it, didn’t you? You left me so why would you care who I bring in here anyway?” He’s switched to his shouting voice now.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. But I left because you pushed me away, Yoongi.” He averts his gaze to the floor while you continue. “I know that you love music more than anything else but what I also happen to know is that you use it as an escape. An excuse to not get too close. But guess what? We were already too close for me to not realise what you were doing! And that is why I left!”

Both of you are obviously done shouting and silence takes over the room for a while. You already had to push back tears like twice now, so you decide to leave but just then, Yoongi has something to say.

“This room will never have any significance with anyone else besides you. Just know that.” he silently admits with his eyes still fixed on the ground. You don’t say anything and just walk away.

It’s nearly the end of the semester and Hoseok’s mixtape is finally finished. He was so exited that he accidentely published it three times in a row on soundcloud. And the fact that he’s getting some great feedback is the icing on top.

In the meantime, you’ve been doing a lot of thinking. After that fight with Yoongi, you’ve started to seriously consider the fact that maybe leaving him just like that was a mistake. Because yes, you were hurt that after all you had been through, he was still trying to keep you at bay. You felt like as you were falling completely and irreversably for him, he was still holding back. But when you left, you were gone all the way. Leaving him all alone when you knew he was hurt.

Spending the last couple of months together, you finally admitted to yourself that you missed him. And that it did bother you seeing him with other girls. It bothered you that Marley was so obviously into him. Even though he made it clear he wasn’t interested, you still felt... jealous.

But you never mustered up the courage to talk to him about any of these. Even though it seems like lately he’s trying not to be cold around you, trying to strike up random converstions in efforts to perhaps recover at least your friendship. For some stupid reason you can’t seem to dare let him back in.

Your buzzing phone pulls you out of your thoughts. You check and see it’s your best friend that you’ve been feeling extra proud of these days.

“Yes, my successful, on his way to become a star best friend?”

“Oh my god, Y/N. You won’t believe this!” he squeaks while talking. And you hate the suspense so you tell him to hurry up and tell you what’s up.

“Yoongi’s friend in radio 12 agreed to play the title song!”

“What??” you start to squeak in exitement as well. “When? When will it be on?”

“In about two minutes! Just put the station on, now!” he orders and hangs up immediately. He’ll probably call his parents next. You quickly do as he says and for sure, the next song is Hoseok’s title track. You start hopping in your bed, dancing around in your room with the dumbest smile on your face but then-

The bridge comes and it’s your voice. That’s impossible, you think. But it is you singing the bridge. And then it hits you. That one night you snuck into the studio with your spare key and recorded this exact bit, just to see how it’d be... As always, you thought it wasn’t good enough. But instead of deleting, you hid the file. Guess you couldn’t hide it that well, after all. Was it Hoseok that did this? Or...

Your phone buzzes again and once again it’s Hoseok. “Y/N- This was the best surprise you ever made for me. I’m literally about to cry, you sound so good! Thank you for doing this.”

It wasn’t Hoseok, then. But you’re thrilled to know he likes it that much. You’re thrilled to hear yourself on a freaking radio station that so many people listen to! It feels amazing. It gives you so much confidence. So much that after ending the call with Hoseok, you decide to go to the only person left who could’ve done this.

You’re at Yoongi’s door. You haven’t been here for a long time but despite the nervousness, you manage to knock. It’s pretty late but you know he’s a night owl, he should be up. Soon enough, he opens the door. He’s taken aback to see you at first but then his surprised expression turns into worry.

“I know why you’re here. I’m sorry I used the recording without your consent but-”

You launch yourself onto him and crash your lips on his. His response is so quick that it’s almost automatic. He pulls you in even more, closes the door with his foot and traps your body againts the wall with his own. All the while not parting your lips once. Your hands go to his hair. You’ve been wanting to brush your fingers through his hair ever since you’ve seen that he bleached it again after two years. You pull at the tips slightly. It makes him hum into your mouth.

“Wait-” he says while he pulls away suddenly. “You-” You’re both out of breath. “Are you really okay with what I did?”

“Yes.” You close the distance once again and this time he moves you to the couch. You’ve missed this couch. You’ve missed him...

He pulls back again. “Y/N- wait. What are we doing?”

“What do you think?” you tease as your lips travel down to his neck.

“I wanna talk to you first, though.” he manages to say between his panting.

“So talk.” you say and go back to the week spots on his neck, secretly smiling against his skin.

“You’re not-” he swallows a groan. “exactly making it easy.” He then pulls your head up to face him and gives you another long kiss. But this time not out of the heat of the moment. Instead with so much meaning engraved on it.

“Y/N... I never meant to hurt you.” he says staring into your eyes. “You were right, I was a coward but- I swear if you give me another chance, I will give it my all. I’ll be a thousand percent in.”

You smile. He looks so much like a lost puppy that it makes you want to tease him. “Well, prove that to me right now then.” you say slyly.

“Uhh- I will. I- I’m gonna go dye my hair brown, right now. I bleached it to get your attention, anyway. Not to attract others, I promise.” he says in panic.

You burst into laughter. When you first started dating, you talked him into not bleaching his hair anymore. You always said it was only for his health but he always knew you were jealous of girls getting attracted because of it, too. “No, don’t. I actually missed how even hotter it makes you look. Let’s keep that for now.” you say. “I was kidding, you don’t have to do or say any-”

“I love you.”

You pause. It’s not the first time he tells you that. But this time he says it in such a way that you’re certain it’s the real thing. Even more real than before. “I love you, too.”

“So...” he leans into you and whispers in your ear. “Couch or bed?”

You both giggle. “Surprise me.” you whisper back and he quickly tries to lift you but fails, making you both laugh out loud. “Umm- I haven’t been working out lately, baby. I’m sorry.” he says between giggles.

Between all the laughter, you silently thank him for giving you another chance, too. And make a mental promise that you won’t give this up so easily ever again.

....

A/N: This was my first Yoongi fic and I feel good about it. It’s really hard to imagine Yoongi not being a god at music so anytime I use him as a character, he’s always a prodigy lol. I can’t help it he’s just really good. Anyways if you’ve bared with this, thank you sooo much for reading and I hope you liked it. Let me know if you did. Always wash your hands and stay healthy :)

[youarejesting]

I Kendo It!

[MASTERLIST] Beta: @taegularities @jinings​ Rating: Teen+ Pairing: Jimin x Reader Genre: Fluff, adventure, angst, Romance, mystery, slice of life, sports, drama, comedy. Words: 7.9K

Summary: Jimin is a killing machine, except he isn’t. Enrolled into Korea’s top sports university with an amazing scholarship, he joins a packed dorm room and makes many friends. But the Uni is full of mysteries, who is the famous delivery girl who turned everyone down and why does she work at a sports Uni when she claims to hate all sports. Trying to uncover the skeletons in her closet he tries to hide his most dangerous secret; no one can know that Jimin is a kendo master.

Jimin walked through the campus; he had been accepted on a scholarship program and was super excited to use the university's facilities. He was twenty one and had almost finished his 4th dan in Kendo. Not to mention all his other fighting styles. Jimin had spent most of his time abroad studying different fighting techniques. He was pretty deadly.

Spotting the gymnastic kids struggling greatly whilst moving some heavy equipment, he jumped to help. It didn’t take long to carry the large beam. The Gymnastic members helped, but honestly he took most of the weight. One of the girls declared that he must be a weightlifter, squeezing his bicep in awe. He had to admit, it felt nice to be admired, but he decided to take his leave before they pried more into his major; he blushed, bowing low before continuing on to the dorms.

Yes, as he was saying, his whole body was built to kill and he could do it well. He readjusted his backpack, thankful all his equipment had been sent to the university Dojo. So he didn't have to worry about storage in a dorm room. All he had was a big backpack full of clothes and toiletries.

Heading into the building, Jimin saw a man in a cap halfway up the stairs struggling to carry his suitcase. "Hey, I got this side. Let me help you?"

He helped the man, noticing how pale and quiet the guy was, he noticed a basketball under his arm and filed the information. Under his cap were piercing eyes and a black mask and Jimin felt a little intimidated by how cool he looked.

When the two arrived, he noticed the dorm number and smiled that they were staying in the same room. Opening the door unleashed a raging argument from inside. "I am older," a broad shouldered young man said, "so I should get the biggest room."

Jimin had been here for a second and there was already fighting amongst the dorm members. He felt a nervous feeling in his chest. He didn't like the conflict, this was supposed to be his safe space, and one should never be scared in their home.

"Yes, but I have to use the bathroom. I sweat a lot, you are a swimmer, right? You can shower after you swim." This one looked like the youngest of all the dorm members and Jimin opened his mouth, ready to try and calm them all down.

"I’m a diver, he is the swimmer," the oldest spoke, pressing a hand to his chest before brandishing it in the general direction of a young man sitting on the couch watching cartoons.

"Good, so bunk with him- two swimmers in one room and two tennis players in another," the two continued to argue. Jimin watched as the man he had helped slipped into the room and shut and locked the door with stealth.

"Um... he isn't a tennis player. Our racket shape is completely different." One man said his hair was a bronze colour which complimented his skin tone. "His is a badminton racket but we’re happy to bunk as we are the same age and our sport is similar."

While the two were arguing Jimin tried to open his mouth to explain the room was now taken by the quiet and intimidating roommate who he believed played basketball. 

But instead, he took a smaller room and smiled, laying on one of the beds. Someone came in with a duffle bag and sighed - the best thing about living in the university dorms was that everything was furnished, the linen was provided and even uniforms came included with the tuition. Jimin would live in the universities track suit as his uniforms were in the dojo. It was going to be good.

"So the building is mixed next door is a group of girls, they seem pretty cool. I think one plays soccer," the young man said as he stepped into the room, "I am Jeon Jungkook, nineteen, I am a boxer." He projected pide with every word, getting his things settled, unpacking a few pairs of shoes and some wraps and gloves.

Sitting up, Jimin smiled. "Hi! I’m Park Jimin, twenty-one and I-"

"Hey, the whole floor is going to the cafeteria so, you know, let's go!" Someone tapped the door. It was the badminton guy.

The group went out and took a table at the cafeteria and they ordered, waiting. Jimin got to know all their names.

Seokjin was the oldest, handsome and he knew it, a diver. He was roomed with Taehyung who was the same age as Jimin; he seemed kind of weird and talked about how his goal in life was to grow gills, a swimming major.

Then there was Namjoon who roomed with Hoseok, both the same age - one played badminton and the other tennis, one liked books and was quiet, the other liked to play and be loud.

There was Jungkook, who avoided most of the females that approached as Jimin had noticed. And lastly there was Yoongi, the quiet guy who played basketball- he spent most of the time with headphones on, but Jimin was unsure if he was actually listening to anything or avoiding questions.

Amongst the crowd were a few young guys and girls that caught Jimin's attention, soccer players and volleyballers, a really tall high jumper named Michael who shook his hand.

It was just a big group of athletic people, and he enjoyed getting to know everyone and their sports.

"So what do you do?" one of the pretty girls asked, she was an archer. Famous or something, she seemed to think highly of herself, which was respectable. When you are good at what you do, it gives you confidence. 

"Uh, nothing as cool as archery," Jimin admitted, ducking his head.

"I saw him in the gymnastics hall this afternoon, carrying some equipment," a young Chinese man said as he smiled, he was some sort of track star, "do you know the pretty girl in blue over there? I was wondering if you could introduce us later. She's a gymnastics major as well."

Jimin ducked his head, embarrassed, not wanting to correct the young man. He didn’t want to scare off any potential friends, it was already hard enough with his intimidating features. Jimin was saved by the woman calling his order number and he gave a small laugh. "Oh, that's me?"

"Hey, you’re number thirty three?" Jimin was surprised, who was she? To him she was the most beautiful young woman, unlike any he had ever seen. Her voice had been sweet, obviously laced for customer service.

"Uh, yes, here is my ticket," Jimin scrambled around in his pockets until he found the ticket, handing it over.

"Thank you, sir. Here are some napkins. Is there anything else I can get you?"

"Uh no, thank you very much." His eyes found her badge and he mouthed your name before smiling and rushing back to the table.

"Hey man, you got a crush on Y/n, the delivery girl? Then don't even try, she’s rejected every guy and girl from every major," Seokjin said, "last year I even tried to see if my handsome face could charm her, but it didn't seem to work. She said she hated sports.”

"Then why she works at a sports university?" Hoseok asked as Jimin watched her working. She seemed to be in pain, but he couldn't see what was wrong. She would wince and keep working, her breathing laboured and her face growing redder and redder.

Everyone was leaving to go back to the dorms and Jimin tore his eyes from her form and followed his dorm mates back to their apartment. He laid on the bed, thinking about her and wondering what had been wrong.

Waking early, Jimin walked across the campus to the dojo and began the class. He was the only student in the class who lived on campus; the others seemed to come in specifically for lessons and leave shortly afterwards. There she was, sitting at the edge of the Dojo, watching everyone intently and frowning. 

Whether she knew it or not, she had a reason to frown. These students weren’t very good at Kendo, they found themselves complaining faster than they could swing a sword. Jimin was higher ranked than the others but he didn't try to show off. He stepped up for his turn, moved quickly and sharply, receiving praise from the teacher. This made him smile and when he turned, he saw a smile on her face, too, if only for a second before she got up and walked away. 

After Jimin’s morning practice, he got changed, sitting on the seats by the door. He saw a small bottle of pills from where she was sitting. Scooping up the bottle he saw her name. He didn’t know what medicine it was and he didn’t pry but he thought he would return it. He headed outside, keeping an eye out for her, but he was going to be late for his actual class.

It was required that while the students were at the university for their respective sports, they still had to earn a degree. As Jimin entered the classroom, he saw the new faces of his peers and a familiar face in the back row. It was her, the girl from the cafeteria who had left the pill bottle at the dojo- she didn't have any books or writing implements. Jimin took a seat in the row in front of her, sliding the bottle towards her. He shuffled until he reached the seat by the window and looked out to see clouds forming in the sky.

Jimin unloaded his text book and laptop, wondering if he would get back before the clouds gave way to the rain. He didn’t have an umbrella on hi— what was this? In his bag was an umbrella, a packet of hand warmers and a note. 

Yoongi says it’s going to rain tomorrow, so I got these. I don’t want anyone getting sick and infecting me. So stay warm or whatever. Jin.

Jimin thought about picking up something to thank Jin, but didn’t know much about him. He would stop by the convenience store after class. Speaking of classes, Jimin wondered why Y/n would come to the Dojo and his class. Especially if she didn��t like sports in a sports university. Was she even allowed to sit in? 

Without knowing it, Jimin’s eyes wandered towards her, even while he was working or the professor was talking. He seemed aware of her presence and even though she probably wasn’t looking, he couldn’t help but feel eyes on him. He fought with himself not to turn around; it was all in his head. While the teacher gave them the opportunity to mingle, he snuck a glance over his shoulder to see that she was, in fact, staring at him, but he wasn’t sure how long she was doing that for- either since he sat down or since the professor said they were free to mingle.

After class, Jimin packed up his books and headed out into the hall- he was lucky he was in the main building that resided in the middle of the university grounds as that meant it would be easy to get to his next class. Jimin walked down the hall and saw that Y/n had stopped in front of the trophy cabinet; she was looking at something but he didn’t wish to be late for his next class, so he headed out the side of the building. 

It was raining quite heavily. Jimin reached into the front of his bag and grabbed the umbrella, thanking Jin for looking out for him in some roundabout way. He was extending the umbrella and preparing himself for the journey when he saw Y/n step out, stopping, almost startled by the rain. She looked in her bag, searching for whatever she was trying to find — an umbrella, most likely, Jimin thought. Whatever it was, she gave up, looking out at the rain to Jimin’s umbrella and then to him.

Jimin had yet to open his mouth and offer his umbrella when she pulled her jumper around her form and trudged through the thin curtain of rain. She didn’t run, which Jimin found odd, but he looked at his umbrella and the dark patches spreading on the fabric of her jacket and quickened his pace. Outstretching his arm to cover the two of them. 

“Where are you headed?” Jimin asked She looked up at the umbrella and then at Jimin before resuming her forward uncaring gaze. She was so closed off and Jimin wondered why. He knew she wasn’t a bad person. She was just holding herself back. Yes, that was it. Jimin couldn’t see anything stopping her from doing what she wanted except herself. Her eyes were easy to read and he often saw her contemplating things. 

Like in the Dojo, he wondered if his eyes had played him a trick when he’d seen her hand twitch and foot slide while she sat on the bench. She looked like she wanted to get up and teach the other members a lesson. Yeah, Jimin just knew there was something holding her back and he also knew it was something she couldn’t control.

“The cafeteria,” she muttered, snapping Jimin from his thoughts. He nodded, checking his watch and she stopped, making Jimin falter to a stop. “You don’t have to take me to the cafeteria, I know you have class. You’re gonna be late.”

“I’ll be more late if we sit and argue. Come on.” Jimin gestured with his head onwards.

“Thanks for bringing me my medicine,” she muttered as they walked.

“Yeah, I am sorry, I don’t know anything about medicine or illnesses, so I hoped I could return them before you’d need them again.” He smiled at her. “You were lucky you were in my class! Are you doing a degree?”

“I’m on a break and have been for a year and a half.” She shivered, looking rather pale. Jimin wondered if she was okay, he didn’t know what illness she might have but he suspected something to do with her lungs. She got tired rather easily and it concerned him. “I am waiting for… uh well, I will be back to school soon.” She didn’t say the words, but Jimin felt, rather than heard the words tacked on. I hope.

As the two of you walked, Jimin reached into the back of his bag where he found the hand warmers and ripped open the packet with his teeth. He pulled out the two small pouches, shaking them in his free hand and felt them heat up. He leaned over and handed them to her. “Here, you’re soaked, so try to stay warm.”

Jimin found out quickly how hard it was being in a dorm with other men his age. It tested his patience everyday, but he remained calm, his training taught him that much. There were always arguments about who ate what food and Jimin knew it was Taehyung who was looking guiltily at the ground. Jimin ordered some food on his phone and waited at the table for the doorbell. When it rang, Jimin quickly headed over - and there she was, Y/n, standing at the door, a cap on her head and a bag in her hand. 

“I got an order for chimchim95.” She was reading the receipt attached to the bag and held out the food towards him.

"Hey, thank you so much." Jimin blushed, trying to fix his hair and shirt before taking the bag. She looked up and he saw the recognition in her eyes. Something about her seemed off more than usual. "Are you okay?"

"Uh… yeah." She panted visibly, holding the wall as she reached into her pocket for the bottle of pills.

"Are you sure? You look really pale," Jimin said as he reached out towards her, thinking that she might’ve had a temperature. He could quickly check, and give himself some piece of mind at least. 

"I'm okay ChimChim," she said sternly, forcing a smile. “It’s just a lot of stairs.”

"How?" Jimin was stunned, that was a name he hadn’t heard since highschool. All the kids from his old highschool and his mother used to call him Chimchim.

“What?” She looked confused, but Jimin knew he had never told her that nickname, "how do you know that name?"

"It was on the order," she said, laughing- it was the first genuinely happy expression she had made. Jimin felt dumb - of course, his old email address, the one he used for everything except things work related.

"Oh right, thanks so much," he murmured, blushing, “...for you know, doing your job.”

Jimin waved, watching her nod and turn back down the hall. He sighed, hitting his head on the door frame. What did she think of him? He always tried so hard to be non-threatening but she visibly flinched away from him. If she didn’t know he did Kendo would she still flinch? Probably, Jimin knew his muscles weren’t just for show and that anyone could see how his body was a killing machine. 

"You are so lame," Hoseok laughed. Jimin could see all his dorm roommates snickering and looking amused. Even though it was at his expense, he was glad they were getting along. Even the thought of being lame was better than the thought of his roommates fearing his every move.

"It was so lame," Jungkook added, wiping his eyes. The group opened the bag which was packed full of different snacks Jimin had ordered and they all ate happily. After every last morsel was devoured, they had come to enjoy each other's company. Jimin found that Seokjin and Hoseok were good for a laugh and Namjoon was smart, leaving Jungkook in awe. 

Hopefully now after spending the evening, bonding over good food, the fighting and tiffs would end. The room fell silent; without the prospects of food they grew bored of sitting. Jimin rushed to clean up with the help of Hoseok when he heard Yoongi who had been reasonably quiet during their bonding moment.

“I’m going out,” Yoongi sighed. He seemed to have some energy clawing at his sides. The others all looked towards him, curious as to where he was going and why. 

“Okay do you have practice?” Jimin asked nervously, he always felt intimidated by the basketball player; he was just so closed off. The last thing he wanted to do would be to start a fight. No matter how tough Yoongi looked, his body would not survive Jimin’s obvious muscular form.

“No I don’t, I’m just going to shoot some hoops.” he shrugged, slipping on his shoes at the entrance. Not wanting the night to end just yet, Jimin placed the bin back in its place and scuffled after the basketballer.

“Can I come too?” Jimin asked, smiling. “I want to see you play, and it sounds kind of nice, I wouldn’t mind shooting hoops if you let me.”

“Sure, whatever.” Yoongi made it sound so nonchalant, but his ears were pink. The others grew curious and tagged along as well, shoving their arms in jackets and feet into shoes before chasing after the quiet athlete.

The whole group ended up playing a small game, three against four and Yoongi was obviously superior - but everyone was vastly impressed with Jimin. He was shooting hoops with ease and his aim and strength was enviable.

“Wait, didn't you say you were a gymnastics major or something?” Hoseok asked, surprised by his natural talent. Jimin was quick on his feet, ducking past Namjoon, Seokjin and Taehyung who were all on Jungkook’s team and losing epically. Yoongi, Hoseok and Jimin seemed really intuitive to one another; they didn’t have to speak to have great communication. They were all having a great time, even Jungkook who was putting up a brilliant fight on his own. He did utilize his other teammates' heights to his advantage but after everything Yoongi Jimin and Hoseok won their little match.

“No, I did help them carry their equipment though.” Jimin smiled, if the snacks helping them bond was a five, this was a ten. He couldn’t wipe the smile off his face.

“So what do you do?” Taehyung grinned. Jimin didn't like this inquisition, he thought for a moment that if he told them they would grow scared of him. They would think that every move he made was to attack them.

Laughing and trying to ease the tension, Jimin devised a way to slow down on their thirst for knowledge. “I will let you try to guess. I will play any sport you throw at me and maybe you will find out. Each week you can pick a new sport.” They grinned, fire in their eyes- it was game on. 

“Soccer next!” Hoseok cheered and they all nodded, agreeing that perhaps he played soccer.

He was agile and moved quickly while weaving through the players on the court. They likened these skills to a team sport like soccer.

The group were adamantly discussing different sports when Seokjin interjected, “Wait! Is athletics one sport? Or, do we have to say each activity, like high jump, long jump, shot put?”

“They each count as one, so pick wisely.” Jimin smiled. 

Jimin saw y/n again here and there, especially during the mid semester break. A lot of students went home, so Jimin was freed from classes and excited to play a new sport with the boys. 

After basketball, he tried soccer, cycling, baseball, football, hockey, high jump, track and even volleyball. Jimin became famous around the university; no one knew his major and they all tried to guess. 

The friends he made in the Dojo agreed to keep his secret. And even helped spread false rumours of his sport. 

The only other person besides the people in Jimin's major who knew was Y/n, whom he visited regularly during the break, as his dorm mates had all returned home. 

“Your usual.” Y/n placed two plates onto the table and sat opposite Jimin with a sigh. “It’s been a long day, and my shift is over, but the rain isn’t said to let up for ages, so I don’t think I will find a ride home.”

“It’s a pretty heavy monsoon. I don’t believe it’s going to get better for a couple of days,” Jimin sighed, “You can stay in my dorm, though?”

“Your dorm.” Y/n smiled thoughtfully, “with you.”

“Well, there are plenty of beds and rooms and the doors lock. I won’t bother you or do anything weird.” Jimin’s voice faltered. 

Jimin didn’t expect after his word vomit that she would even think about agreeing to his offer but she did. After finishing the food, Jimin took out his poncho and looked at her, wrapped up in her own before heading out into the rain. 

Getting back, both soaked, they each took turns showering.Jimin lent a set of his tracksuits for her to change into. 

Jimin explained all the rooms and bed options; but she joined him in his room, laying on Jungkook’s bed. Jimin laid silently in the dark, listening to the wind and the rain when he heard her giggle. “This bed smells like corn chips and the gymnasium in the summer.”

Jimin laughed; he offered to switch, but she declined. Running from the room, he returned with blankets, pillows and two futons, and he began constructing a small hut. 

“Come in here. I promise it will smell better. All these blankets and stuff are clean.” Jimin prepped the inside with soft pillows and blankets. She joined him inside the hut which was illuminated by the glow of his phone light. She laid inside the blanket fort beside him and Jimin settled in his blankets feeling safe and cozy. 

She took his phone and fiddled around with it for a moment until the light went out. “Jimin, if you were to die tomorrow, what would you want to do?”

“I would want to try everything I ever wanted.” Jimin hummed, “like go on the Ferris wheel like in movies and eat good food and be with my friends. What about you?” 

Jimin was interested in her response, but she gave a yawn and left him with a thoughtful, “I don’t know?”

After the monsoon stopped, the grass was a brilliant green, albeit overgrown on the field. Students were starting to trickle back, but Jimin appeared at the cafeteria, leaning over the counter towards y/n. 

“You asked me what I would do if I were going to die and it got me thinking. I would try new things, so would you like to go to the amusement park with me?”

He was fully expecting to get rejected in front of the whole cafeteria which had grown silent at his offer. She smiled, nodding and he felt his heart skip a beat. Why did asking make him so nervous and why did her saying yes make him so happy? 

Either way, she had said yes and he was glowing. It was going to be the perfect end to the mid semester break. He gave her a time for the next day and she accepted happily. Jimin left the cafeteria and froze. Was this a date? It sounded like a date. Did she want it to be a date?

Confused, Jimin tried on his third sweater and frowned. He didn’t want to look like he was trying too hard. This couldn’t be a date. She didn’t see him like that, right? Finally settling on something not too casual or fancy, he headed down to the cafeteria. There was quite a crowd - word that had gotten out that they were going on a date. 

“Hey Jimin, I will just get changed and we can go,” Y/n called. Her big smile put butterflies in his stomach. The patrons in the cafeteria were smiling and quietly cheering him on. That was until she stepped out, in a sweet dress and her hair let down from its usual ponytail. 

Someone let out a low whistle and Jimin blinked shocked that she had crossed a whole room faster than his amazing reflexes could process her moving. He was supposed to be deadly, he was supposed to be quick, strike to kill and always know his opponents next moves. But he was enamoured by her presence. 

Taking a bus to the nearest city where the nightlife was bustling, Jimin took her hand and led her through the crowds. Starting with good food, Jimin was having a lot of fun, even singing with some buskers. All while heading to the huge ferris wheel by the shore. He had made sure to pre-book tickets online, so it didn’t take long to walk up the ramp and get seated into a small capsule.  

It was a slow climb, the ferris wheel drifting along gave time to admire the view and Jimin was in awe. But when he turned to Y/n, she was sitting with her eyes wide. “Are you okay?” Jimin asked, taking her hands.

“It’s beautiful.” She laughed, her eyes flickering to his. “I honestly didn’t even think it would be worth it, but you were right Jimin, this is something I should try before I die.”

“If you want, we can try more things everyday, I am willing to make the most of each day,” Jimin said looking out again, “Look that’s the uni, if you look really really hard, you can see Seokjin’s underwear hanging on the line.”

Jimin felt a hand on his and he looked back. Y/n was crying, her eyes leaking tears that she tried to mop away with one hand. “Hey, I was joking, you can’t really see them from this far away.”

She laughed. “Sorry, I just, I have been bottling things up and I guess I have let them out.”

“Hey, that’s okay.” Jimin squeezed her hand gently. “That’s what I am here for. Look, we are almost up the top, so why don’t you let it all out, say whatever is on your mind or shout really loud or cry and then when we reach the bottom, you won’t have anything left to make you upset.”

The capsule finally reached the top and Y/n reached forward, placing her hand on Jimin’s thigh and stretching towards him until she could press her lips against his soft voluptuous ones Jimin froze, watching her pull away.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “Tonight has been amazing.”

Jimin and Y/n had started trying something new each month within the new semester, alongside him trying new sports with the boys every week. Honestly, Jimin was surprised that there were so many sports he was good at and that weren’t his major. The boys were racking their brains, Jungkook even said the words Kendo in discussion but they all dismissed it, saying he didn’t have a harmful bone in his body, he was too kind for Kendo.

Jimin didn’t know if he was offended, relieved or guilty hearing that and knowing he really did train in the art of Kendo. Would they feel betrayed? He couldn’t think of that right now; he was going to meet Y/n for the monthly excursion. It was the last week of school for the year and she’d told Jimin she had something planned.

"Okay, well. I am going to practice," Jimin said after eating. He saw Y/n sitting on a bench outside the dorms and she walked him along the campus and into the Dojo.

She had been given key card access to the Dojo. She told him to get dressed and when he came back she was dressed as well, practicing with the wooden sword. She was in good form, her strikes were fast and he was shocked. He decided to practice as well, when she moved and caught his sword with hers.

The fight was quick as she was giving everything she had. It was the best fight Jimin had been in for a long time until he got hit in the chest. Jimin fell back and looked up at her armoured figure. She explained to him, her observations of his fighting, "your form is good, you move quick but your sword swings are a fraction too wide. It leaves you open more often and allows the opponent to strike."

"Get up," she added and Jimin scrambled to his feet, "get into position and try again."

Jimin worked harder, but he was hit multiple times and bruised greatly. He winced, when he hit her in the chest, knocking her back onto the floor.

"Are you okay?" Jimin whipped off his helmet, scrambling to help her up.

"Yeah I'm okay." She smiled back up at him. "Been a long time since I got hit."

Jimin went to get changed, telling Y/n he would buy her something to drink. He skipped the shower as he thought it would be too painful to undress and redress fully, opting instead to just remove the armour and return in his sweaty clothes. 

But when he reentered the main area of the Dojo, it was empty. Something felt wrong. He went to the ladies locker room, feeling something heavy in the pit of his stomach but she wasn’t there. Where had she gone? Jimin waited for as long as he could but she didn’t return.

Bruised, walking back to his dorm, he kept his eye out for any sign of Y/n but she must have left to go home quickly. Jimin turned the key in the door when he heard a faint sound in the distance. He stepped through the front door. 

They were all watching television and barely noticed Jimin enter. He needed a shower and he needed help. "Can someone help me take my shirt off?"

"What happened?" Jungkook asked after peeling Jimin's shirt and seeing the bruises. "Did you get beaten up?"

"No, I was just practicing," Jimin mumbled. 

"What were you practicing? How to rupture an organ? These look fierce."

Jimin agreed; he had received a few bad hits but he remembered the pretty strong hit he’d delivered. He saw how pale Y/n had looked. He wondered if she was okay?

The next day, Jimin went to the cafeteria and asked for Y/n, but they said she had called in sick. Guilt filled him again and he spent the next few days searching the campus to find out where she had gone. No one knew and no one even seemed to care.

That’s when he started to worry. Homemade flyers and asking around, but no one had seen her. After the break Jimin expected her to be there in the cafe but there was a new girl working there. She wasn’t as attentive with the orders, and frequently got Jimin’s orders wrong. 

Jimin took it upon himself to start digging a little further. Someone can’t just disappear without a trace without anyone knowing. He asked the staff who Y/n had worked with, for any information they could spare. Hobbies, restaurants, she liked to visit anything. Things were eating away at Jimin, not only because he had hit her that night, but  because of all the subtle things he had heard around campus about Y/n being sick.

He went to practice and to class and after class he returned to his research and flyers and online blog. He had opened a club trying to find Y/n. The boys in his dorm tried to help too, but by the middle of his second year Jimin stopped. 

He returned back to what he was used to: playing different sports until someone could guess. The whole of the university was interested and placing bets, there was a poll online and yet only one person voted for Kendo.

Jimin was always in popular rumours, that he didn’t actually play any sports, that the last person to find out what sport he played, had died. That he could charm anyone on campus. “I don’t think he could charm anyone.” one of the girls said as she giggled a few seats behind him. 

“He charmed the girl with the cold heart who used to work in the cafeteria, she was really beautiful and yet she never accepted anyone, until she met Jimin,” the other girl added in a hushed tone. “Since she left, he has done nothing but search for her, it is sweet.”

“If only a man could devote his lives to us.” They all sighed and Jimin thought about the time that had passed since he had seen Y/n. He was half way through his degree. 

Jimin couldn’t believe how much of an impact Y/n had had on his life, even if he only knew her for less than a year, even if he only knew her first name. The moments meant so much more than time, she pushed him not to waste time. Jimin never really had a bucket list but he wrote one, scratching off all the things he had already done together with her.

He squared his shoulders and took out the club form, changing the name and the activities. The club was called ‘If’ and was about living your life to the fullest, trying new experiences and not limiting yourself.

A lot of people joined and they each wrote down a list of things they  wanted to do if they knew they were going to die tomorrow. All the members were teamed up with people who had similar wishes and they started concurring their lists.

Jimin kept his list private and at the top of it was to find Y/n. He needed to know what had happened; people don’t just disappear, people leave a trace behind. In class, he took her seat, it was wrong seeing anyone else sit there. He tried to pay attention but his head was full of the memories. 

After class, he walked, seeing the ghost of Y/n standing by the trophy cabinet but it was just his imagination, gone in a blink. Jimin passed by as always, heading to the cafeteria and saw she wasn’t there and left. 

The days blended together and Jimin found himself doing the same things - he would go to practice and think about how he had hit her with his sword the day before she’d disappeared. 

He would go to class and imagine her sitting beside him in the back row, looking out at the sky. He remembered her in the halls and when it rained, he remembered the talks that night under the blankets he’d made into a fort. 

He saw the city lights and remembered the kiss shared in the Ferris wheel. Jimin was finding, he spent more time thinking about Y/n than anything else. He missed her, worried about whether she was doing okay and staying safe. 

Jimin found himself in a daze after class, the rain made her presence more noticeable. Without thinking, he followed her ghost, walking behind her after class. 

Y/n’s hair was down, swaying with every step and that’s when he saw his own face in front of him. He stopped in front of the trophy cabinet. This is where she would stand, he thought nothing of it, and was about to leave when he saw a picture of her holding a plaque. Looking to the left was the very same plaque from the picture with her name on it. 

Y/n’s full name. Jimin’s mind was racing. He pulled out his phone and began searching. He found a few articles on her Kendo training and scholarship to the university. He didn’t know why she’d quit Kendo and why she was so against sports. 

The articles showed her smiling, so happy, so different from the smiles she’d given him. Clicking the next article, he froze. 

Broken Heart Broken Streak

Three year gold medalist and Kendo Champion Y/n had fallen during the finals. The Kendo champion subsequently was rushed to the hospital where it was revealed she had a prominent heart defect. Not only did she lose her title and the championship, she lost the sport she loved.

Flashbacks of hitting her in the chest filled Jimin with dread, he wanted to make sure she was okay. Where had she gone that night? Home? The hospital? It was like a spiral. Jimin barely had the strength to socialize when he helped the field athletes pack up the javelins and high jump mats.

Jimin continued practicing earlier and later, trying to chase away the guilt he held for hurting Y/n, and for making her disappear. He relived the fight in his head, every swing, and everytime he stopped before he hit her in the chest. He heard the door to the dojo open and didn’t bother turning, focusing on his retelling of that night. Where instead of fighting he would hold her. 

He swung the sword down, only for it to be caught by another sword. Jimin turned and blocked the next attack before recognizing the moves. He dropped the sword, receiving a hit to the side and he fell backwards, winded but seemingly unphased as he scrambled to take off his helmet and watched his opponent remove hers. "You are alive?"

"Of course I am?" Y/n laughed, she looked exactly how he remembered, albeit her hair was a little longer. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because of your heart?" he said. Guiltily, she threw her head back.

“You are funny Park Jimin, but you shouldn’t worry.” Her eyes were pressed thin by her amused expression. She explained a little more softly and seriously, “I have a new heart now. Thanks to our fight that night I bumped up the list for a transplant, and well, the recovery from a heart transplant is six months. So, I went back to my hometown to rest and strengthen up a little. But this heart is better than the last one. It was bitter and cold, I hear this one is warmer."

Stepping closer, Jimin held out his hands like he was warming them in front of a fire, "it feels warmer,” he hummed sagely, making her giggle, “feels a little more romantic and sentimental too.”

“More romantic and sentimental, how can you tell?” She played along, stepping closer to him. He mocked seriousness once more, rubbing his chin like an old wise man would rub his beard.

“Well, one way to tell is if this heart likes going to the movies?" Jimin proposed this like it truly was a scientific fact.

"It does, but it's a shame I don't like movies. If only it had someone to go with?" She grinned. “This new heart of mine really wants to see the new love story.”

"I like movies," Jimin said and smiled, watching her sit beside him, both taking off the armour. “I don’t know if they gave you a feelings transplant too but I heard, sometimes there are residual feelings from the previous heart stored in the brain and I was wondering if this brain could maybe look back in the old feelings database and maybe find a little folder named Jimin.”

“Jimin, let me search for Jimin.” She pondered the thought. “There are three results for Jimin, a 39 year old florist with beautiful hair, the child from the last drama I watched or the Kendo student.”

“You must have labeled them wrong, I am the one with the beautiful hair.” He gave her a cheeky grin. 

“Park Jimin, the Kendo major with the gorgeous hair, that’s you, right? What do you want to know?” Y/n smiled, hanging up the armour and wiping it down. 

“Why did you kiss me in the ferris wheel?” he breathed; the game was over. He was serious now, asking her to confess the reasoning behind her actions that night.

Her hand paused, no longer wiping the armour with the cloth. “I think that piece of the folder is missing. I am so sorry.”

“It’s missing?” He frowned, turning her around to face him. He pulled away, scared he might have been too rough on her. 

“Maybe you could help retrieve it or something.” Y/n’s smile was small, but full of cheek. He seemed to understand her meaning as he leaned down, pressing his lips to hers; something he had been thinking about since she’d left. 

Her hands dove into his hair and he placed his palm flat over her heart. Hearing the steady rhythm, he pulled away, smiling. “I know this head and this heart remember me.”

“I could never forget you, Jimin.” She smiled. 

Y/n was enrolled back at school. She joined Jimin in his classes. She had already been halfway through her studies, when she had taken a break, and having been to all the classes, she already knew the lesson work. 

The start of their second year was spent training and hanging out together. Y/n had to relearn her skills in kendo, even that she was still better than most of the class. She was Jimin's friendly rival in the class and the two pushed each other harder to improve. 

Y/n joined ‘If’ and the two ran the club, making sure everyone spent their days doing meaningful things. She also got a place in the dorms and introduced some of the girls to his dorm mates for a few mixers. 

The seniors had a tradition where they had to participate in the ‘Senior Games’, a series of fun games and challenge.Everyone was in teams with their dorm rooms but some of the gymnastic girls requested that the teams should be one male dorm and one female dorm room, so as to give more variety of participants and more chances of winning. 

Everyone agreed that this would make things a little fairer; the prize was free dinner and drinks for everyone in the team. Jimin’s dorm joined with Y/n’s and they got ready for the ‘Senior Games’. They decided their team's colour was purple and they placed their names in different mystery categories for the big day.

Once their team was registered, they waited for the big day. Dressed in purple, they arrived on the field, each taking the number Seven vest and putting it on over their shirts. The teams were excited and were trying their best in the competition.

“Team Number Seven wearing Purple and getting ready, their group is made up with such a diverse range of sports. Some notable competitors would be the clumsy Kim Namjoon, the lazy Min Yoongi, Park Jimin whom no one knows what his major really is and the delivery girl who is known for hating sports,” the emcee of the event spoke across the whole arena. “We will see how they match up today in each event.

The mystery categories included blowing a bubble through a hoop, hitting a spinning target, throwing playing cards at a foam box, rolling dice, throwing bouncy balls into a bin, stacking and unstacking cups, and many more fun games. 

They were only leading by a few points but it was the final activity. Two participants had to flick out the caps of three water bottles by one swift motion, while the bottles were placed upside down on the table. Without knocking over the bottles! It sounded impossible, but they had to do it.

“Jimin and I will do it.” Y/n smiled, dragging Jimin off the ground and to the last activity. “Come on, it’s our specialty.” 

Jimin smiled, letting her drag him across the field to the final event. Standing at the table, Jimin took the long cooking chopstick in his hand and looked over at Y/n who held the matching one in her hands. Jimin mimicked her moves and the two got into position. 

“All the teams are ready and in position, this last event is the trickiest but it can be done - the contestants will begin on the whistle,” the emcee's voice erupted from the speakers. The whistle blew and the contestants took their time to strike, knocking the bottles over in the process.

“All the contestants have given their first attempt, oh, except Team Seven - they haven’t even swung.” The whole crowd was screaming and cheering while the other teams were scrambling to set their bottles back on the table, the sound drowned out from Jimin’s ears as he took a deep breath and struck. 

The bottle caps flew and the bottles landed perfectly. Jimin turned to Y/n and saw her bottles standing perfectly, too.

“TEAM SEVEN HAS WON!” 

The celebration was amazing; free food and drinks, and as all the other teams crowded around, someone asked the age old question. 

“So what do you actually do?” The archer grinned at Jimin. 

“Kendo!” He laughed, they all laughed and slapped him on the back and the online poll was closed, the bets were sent to the winner. Y/n started giggling. 

When Jimin looked over to her, he saw Y/n holding her phone out to him, displaying her bank account. She had received a large sum of money that labeled Jimin’s bet. Jimin couldn’t help but cackle at the sight, she was the one who’d voted for kendo. 

Their final year ended with the championships. Jimin and Y/n both excelled and were sent away where they competed. Jimin got the gold and Y/n surprised everyone in the competition with her presence taking home a gold of her own. 

If you enjoyed this please Like | Share so others can enjoy it as well. and check out my [MASTERLIST] for more like this content.

[complexgods-backup]

Isn't It Cliché? Chapter 2

Read chapter one here or on Ao3

Pairing: DaiSuga (Haikyuu!!)

Word Count: 2627

Warnings: very brief mention of alcohol and drug consumption, but nothing explicit

A/N: sorry for the late update, I know I said I would update regularly but life got in the way ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I hope you enjoy this chapter!

The university building was huge, way bigger than his old one. Students were chattering away around him, some of them already deep into writing papers, exchanging notes, and sipping coffee. He missed this exact feeling of uni during break. He hadn’t had too many assignments due to his transfer, and the ones he did have were easy tasks, so he had the entire summer to do whatever he wanted, which was odd to him since he was so used to either working or revising during break.

He took out his timetable he thankfully remembered to print a few weeks prior, making his way to the classroom in which his first-class would take place.

“Oh, hi!” He heard a somewhat familiar voice call from behind him. He turned around to see who was talking. He was faced with a man he met on orientation day, whose name he had promptly forgotten. His hair was black and gelled up to the extreme, making him look like a rooster with some bedhead.

“Sugawara, right?” He asked, flashing him a toothy grin. “We met at orientation, I’m Kuroo Tetsurou.” Suga nodded, remembering how he charmed every single person at orientation. He had originally gone to welcome the newcomers since he was a second year, but once Suga said he was transferring and found out that he also studied Japanese Studies, Kuroo happily obliged to answer any questions about the university he might have.

“Ah yeah, apologies for forgetting your name, I won’t forget it again,” Suga said as he shook Kuroo’s hand in greeting.

“That’s absolutely fine, man. I understand it’s not easy to remember everything and everyone when moving into a new city. It’s cool that you’re studying Japanese Studies as well though! If you’re up for it, me and a couple other people are grabbing lunch later and you’re more than welcome to join!” Suga gladly accepted the invitation, feeling oddly reassured that someone as confident as Kuroo basically just took him in like that. He must’ve looked really lost.

The morning passed quite quickly, Suga only got lost once between classes, but everyone at the university was just so helpful and kind that it wasn’t that big of an issue. At lunchtime, he met Kuroo and his three friends at the bottom of the main stairs, smiling nervously at the strangers as Kuroo introduced them. The one whose hair probably had more gel in it than Kuroo was named Bokuto Koutarou, who was more than excited to meet Suga. The other two were calmer at greeting him, the shorter one with dark hair introduced himself as Akaashi Keiji, and the tall blonde quietly introduced himself as Tsukishima Kei. The conversation came almost naturally to them all as they made their way to the cafeteria, and Suga was thankful for how they did their best to include him in their conversations. Suga quickly noticed that Bokuto and Akaashi were closest and were most probably friends since at least middle school with how they spoke to and acted around each other, but everyone seemed to tease Bokuto relentlessly, reminding Suga of his own best friend. He should definitely send Asahi a text after lunch to see how he was holding up.

Suga quickly felt integrated into the friend group, cracking jokes with the rest of them as they ate the somewhat disgusting cafeteria food.

“This university is so fancy and expensive, can’t they at least make decent food?” Kuroo quipped, making the others nod in agreement.

“You’ve been saying that since last year. Besides, it’s better than whatever you can cook, Kuroo.” Tsukishima replied in a drawl, sounding almost bored.

“That’s not very nice of you, Tsukki-poo. I mean you’re not wrong but you shouldn’t say it.” Kuroo answered nonchalantly, ignoring the face of discomfort he made at the nickname.

“So Suga, why did you decide to move to Tokyo?” Akaashi asked, and suddenly everyone fell quiet, watching their new friend with intent.

“I didn’t like my old university, and I always wanted to move to Tokyo, so I figured why not,” Suga answered, trying to seem unfazed.

“Why didn’t you move for your first year then?” Bokuto asked, his eyes big and focussed intensely on Suga.

“Ah, well… My ex wanted me to stay close to our hometown, so I enrolled in our local university. We had a pretty bad breakup though so I was excited to move away.” He consciously left any pronouns out of the conversation, not ready to come out to his newfound friends, just in case. He grimaced at recalling the way he found out his ex-boyfriend was cheating on him and had been for two months before their breakup. After he had found out, he couldn’t get out of his hometown quicker.

“Ah. Makes sense. Oh well, there are lots of people here that we can hook you up with if you want.” Kuroo said in what Suga assumed to be a joke, but he thanked him for the offer anyway.

“Ah it’s fine, I’m not big on dating yet, my ex kinda messed me up, and I don’t know how I feel about one-night stands just yet.” The others nodded, understanding that he was done talking about it.

“Well, we’re all going to Kuroo’s house party he and his roommates are throwing at the end of the week, sort of like a beginning of the semester party. You’re very welcome to join us if you like!” Bokuto chimed in, to which Suga gladly agreed. He needed to check his schedule but getting drunk and/or high at university parties was something he desperately missed during the summer holidays.

After lunch, everyone went their separate ways, and Kuroo promised to text Suga the details of the party the day of. Before his last class of the day started, he sent Asahi a quick text, asking how he was holding up. He got a thumbs-up emoji back, meaning that he was surviving the day. Sugawara smiled as he put his phone back into his pocket and went into the classroom.

…

The day was over a lot quicker than Suga had anticipated, and he sent Asahi a text as he made his way back home.

Home in 20, give me a call if you feel like it!

He threw his coat and bag on the couch as he went into the kitchen to make a coffee. There was nothing Suga loved more than a cup of coffee after a long day. His ex often commented on how bad his caffeine addiction had gotten during his time at uni but he wasn’t in the picture anymore so why should he care? As he was waiting for Asahi to call, he sat by the window in his living room/bedroom, watching civilians pass by as he quietly sipped his coffee. The street he lived in was pretty busy, cars were always driving by and there were always people to observe. Suga loved watching the people crossing the street or running to the subway, were it businessmen, or parents with their children, trying to urge them from one side of the street to the other. Just as he was watching a mother on the phone, trying to get her kid’s attention who was attempting to run across the street when the light was red, his train of thought was interrupted by his phone buzzing.

“Hey Asahi,” he said after he swiped the screen of his phone to accept Asahi’s FaceTime call.

“So? How was your first day?” He asked excitedly, sipping his coffee and leaning against the window.

“It was so cool! The people were really nice and I’m going out for drinks with a few people later tonight!” Asahi sounded a lot more confident than the day before, which made Suga’s heart swell with pride. His best friend was never the best when it came to meeting new people, always worried that people would see him as a threat or too intimidating. His height and broad build were definitely assets to that, but his heart was so pure it was almost impossible not to love the man.

“Did you meet any cool fashionable people then?” Suga asked, which prompted Asahi to tell him all about his day and everyone he had met. Suga listened intently to his best friend’s words, not wanting to miss a single minute of what happened during his first day.

“Ah, I’m rambling again. How was your day?” Asahi asked after speaking for a while, and Suga couldn’t help but smile. Asahi always felt ashamed and somehow shy when he “talked too much,” even though Suga loved nothing more than to listen to whatever Asahi was passionate about. Asahi also knew this to some extent, but he still seemed to feel bad whenever he spoke for more than one minute at a time, thinking it was selfish of him, at least that’s what Asahi had told Suga when he asked his best friend about it.

“Ah no, it’s fine! I like hearing you talk. Besides, it was your first day of uni! That’s exciting! My day was good, I met a few new people and we’re also going to this party on Friday, so I’m looking forward to that!” Suga continued to tell Asahi about his day, in turn, making sure to not leave out any details. He really enjoyed these FaceTime calls with Asahi, something they decided to do more when Asahi was traveling with Nishinoya before he came back home to study and they couldn’t see each other as often as they were used to.

“So yeah, that’s about it from my end. I have work again after class tomorrow afternoon so I’ll probably not be on my phone too much, just so you know!”

“Ok, noted” Asahi answered, before continuing talking about random things.

“Oh by the way, Yuu said he’ll come back home in a few weeks!” Asahi said, his eyes practically shining in excitement. Suga grinned at that, knowing that maybe it might be a little less than that. Noya had wanted to surprise Asahi by coming back from his travels this week, two weeks earlier than planned and only Suga knew about it.

Noya had been traveling Europe for five months now, and although Asahi had joined him in the first month, he had to go home and work in order to afford uni and his apartment, which bummed Asahi out greatly. He and Noya had the most wholesome relationship in Suga’s opinion. Neither could live without the other, so long-distance kinda sucked for the both of them.

Asahi and Nishinoya were the classic “best friends that had feelings for each other since forever but never acted on it” until one day Suga had enough of the bullshit and made them confess to one another. At least that’s how Asahi and Noya put it, Suga thought of it as more of a “not-so-subtly locking them in a room until they confessed” sort of situation. Not his most graceful moment, he must admit, but they had been together for a year now and were completely and utterly in love with each other, it was cute but sickening to watch as a single person. Pushing the thought away, Suga grinned at the camera, nodding enthusiastically.

“I’m excited for you! I might try to come to visit for a weekend once Noya’s back, we can have a movie marathon weekend like we used to in high school,” Suga suggested and Asahi was practically glowing with excitement. The rest of the conversation was about Noya and his adventures in Europe until Asahi had to get ready for his night out with the new people he met at uni.

Suga decided to spend the night in a YouTube deep dive until he passed out, which was always a bad idea but at least he remembered to set an alarm this time.

Just as he had anticipated, he woke up extremely confused to his alarm, not remembering when he fell asleep. His laptop had since turned off due to lack of charging, but he had no time to care about that now, because he wanted to get to uni on time and he needed to remember to take his work clothes with him, so he tried to get out of bed at least half an hour before he had to leave. He was in a bad mood, probably due to his YouTube deep dive last night, and he couldn’t wait to go back to bed the second he had to leave the warm and safe confines of his sheets. He got dressed in a hurry, realising he only had ten minutes before he had to leave.

The morning was rather uneventful, and Suga did his best to seem as chipper as he had been the day before, despite his foul mood. Kuroo had invited him to lunch again, but he declined with a smile and an apology. He knew he would have to go to work at 1 pm and there would be no time for him to eat in the cafeteria. Suga appreciated Kuroo’s kindness and understanding as he turned away to listen to the professor, leaving Suga to his notes. He decided to eat his lunch in the break room at work before his shift started in order to ensure he would be on time.

That day he worked the orders, and since it was a weekday before 4 pm, he was left with one other coworker who was taking orders. He hadn’t met this colleague before but he seemed very intense and focused on his work. He had introduced himself earlier that afternoon as Kageyama Tobio and promptly walked off to start his shift. Suga wasn’t phased though, knowing that he probably had trouble opening up to people, so he decided to not overwhelm him with conversation. They worked surprisingly well together and Suga enjoyed working quietly, listening to the playlist that was playing that day. Sometimes he’d listen in to other people’s fleeting conversations as they waited for their orders, the snippets he caught always entertained him as he wondered what the rest of the conversation was about. He knew that that was probably not appropriate but he was too curious about other people’s lives not to eavesdrop. Right before 4 pm, another coworker joined him and Kageyama, introducing himself as Ennoshita Chikara. He seemed like an effective and good worker, and Suga wished he had more time to get acquainted with him but unfortunately, rush hour had started so they were too busy making orders. He had an inkling that he and Ennoshita would get along pretty well though, so he made sure he would talk to the man more when they had another shift together.

Even though Suga had a 6-hour shift, the afternoon went by in a blur and he didn’t notice how much his back ached from being on his feet non-stop during that time until he arrived at his apartment. He decided to put off homework until he had his bath and some dinner, truly exhausted from his day. He checked his phone as the water poured into the tub, texting Asahi that he was alright and that he would call after his classes the next day, too tired to keep a conversation tonight. He doubted whether or not he would be able to do his homework that night, but he figured he could just do it the next day instead, so he sunk into the hot water wondering what kind of tv show he wanted to watch before bed. He deserved some self-care as well from time to time even if that self-care took the form of eating instant ramen and watching Netflix.

[cilliansaccent]

Class of Temptation - CHAPTER THREE

Leave a like, reblog or comment below to show your support and love! Enjoy…

PLEASE READ:

No mention of Cillian’s true family or relatives. All names are made up.

This is a TEACHER x STUDENT fanfiction, it’s going to be kinky and very taboo!

I will write whenever the mood grabs me, so I apologise if there are long breaks between chapters :)

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Background: Tessa is a twenty-three-year-old model from a broken-up family, living in London with her best friend and starting a course on Drama and Theatre. Though, when she gets closer to the super hot Mr Murphy who is her much older teacher, there is a battle of lust and love between them. They’ll have to figure out what to do with their tight relationship as other issues begin to rise and nip at their heels…

Word Count: 2,141

!!Warnings!!: None.

Chapter Name: First Day

Brief Chapter Outline: It’s Tessa’s first day of class and she goes through it without any hassle. But a letter comes in and her mood changes drastically...

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Tessa was early for her first class, walking towards it. She wore wet look pants and a tucked-in black shirt with TOMMY JEANS across it in bold red writing. She had a pair of white sneakers with the trademark Tommy Hilfiger branding on the side of red, blue and white stripes. She liked the brand, most of her clothing was bought from the store. Well, she is one of their models for their brand. 

She hoped no one was there already but also unsure if she was able to even enter the class. As she came to the door which was slightly ajar she peeked her head in. 

Mr Mur- Cillian was already inside setting up the chairs in a large circle. She counted about forty chairs. 

Cillian turned and spotted someone peaking in, "Come in." He called out, standing in the middle of the giant circle he had made. 

Tessa pushed the door wider and stepped in, "Good morning." She said as her nerves began to start. 

"Morning, Tessa. Welcome back." Cillian gave her that heart-stopping smile. He wore a button-down blue shirt with rolled-up sleeves to his elbow and black jeans and a pair of brown loafers. He looked good. 

"Yeah. Nice to uh, see you again." She smiled as she stepped to the chairs. "What are you doing?" She asked seeing all the tables pushed against the walls. 

"Preparing the morning class. Instead of the old, sit at your desks thing I thought it would be good to get everyone involved." He said as he gestured for her to take a seat. 

"And what would that be?" Tessa stepped through and took a seat, setting her bag in front of her legs. 

"Can't say. You'll see." He said as he finished up, "By the way, you are very early. Class doesn't start for another hour." 

"Oh, yeah. I know. I wanted to make sure I was in the right class." She blushed lightly. 

"You found the right place fast too. I had students who would come in with the campus' student guides cause they couldn't find the place." He chuckled as he came over and took a spot next to her, a chair in between them and crossed his ankle over his knee. 

"Oh, well. You won't expect that from me, I'm pretty good at remembering where I have to go." She explained. 

"I hope so. I'll make sure everyone comes early. Makes it better to start the class right away." He said, "So, tell me about yourself a little? I remember you said you're a model?" 

"Yeah. I um, I work for an agency in Central London but I do shoots for various brands. Currently working with Tommy Hilfiger." Tessa said trying her best to meet his gaze. She wasn't used to this type of attention, most of it was through a camera lens which she never got to met the gaze of the person behind it. 

"Huh, I can see the clothing you wear. What is it like?" He continued, genuinely interested. 

"Fast-paced, constantly changing clothing, makeup and hairstyles to fit in with the shoot. Can be some hours to a whole day or a couple of days." She explained clearly. She was okay about discussing her work but never about herself to strangers. 

"Seems intense. Do you think that will affect your studies? This class does have a lot of practical sides to it." He frowned a little. 

"If it does, I will make sure to give you a heads up. I can miss some shoots but not all, it won't be seen as a professional." She stated. 

"Hm, okay. We'll see how it goes." He nodded. "So you get to go overseas as well?" He moved on. 

"Yep. I can when we have big events happening. I tend to go to as many as I can, I love it." She laughed lightly. "Most of the events are in Europe so its shorter trips." 

"So I'm assuming you're quite a big deal?" He asked his smile never left his face. 

"Uhhh... I mean, I don't know. Maybe not as big as you are but I do have a large following on social media." She shrugged. Tessa never saw her number of followers as important, just the support and care she received from her fans what made it important. She wanted to make sure she created a caring and supportive environment for all types of people. 

"How big, may I ask?" Cillian was always curious about others especially if it came to learning that they worked in a completely different industry than himself. 

"Well, almost six hundred and thousand followers on Instagram and about two hundred and fifty thousand on Twitter. I rarely ever use Facebook, only for updates for the ones who don't use the other two media." Tess shrugged. 

"Wow. That is big." He chuckled. 

"Yeah. But I honestly don't care about the number, as much as it sounds bad. I'm just after a good happy environment for all." She shook her head. 

"I'm curious, how do you deal with it all though? Can it get daunting?" He asked her. 

"Yeah, a hundred per cent. There are days where I take breaks from it all to recollect myself. I guess any person with a big following will always attract the good and bad kind, but I don't let it get to me. It's only words on the internet." Tessa stopped there. She felt like she was just blabbering on nonsense to him. Who wants to listen to that anyway? But Cillian did not seem annoyed or bored, he was really into it. 

It made her nervous and intimidated. It showed. 

Cillian spotted the odd look across her face as if she had said too much and began to step back. So he stepped back faster, "Nice, that's good. Well, I'll let you sit here and relax while I do some paperwork before the rest of the class comes in." He said and gave her a gentle smile as he stood and sat behind his desk. "Do you mind if I play music?" He asked. 

"Oh go ahead. I don't mind." She gulped as she pulled out her laptop to set up her documents and look at her uni email for any updates. 

Cillian played some cool jazz, rock, alternative, some genre she never really heard before. It was odd but she kinda liked it. 

When the hour was up, people began to file in. A mixture of guys and girls all dressed in various clothing types. They took their seats around the circle until it was somewhat full, about five seats unoccupied. 

Cillian started the class and began to introduce himself. Tessa could see some of the girls, the flashier ones watched him with such unashamed desire for him. 

It made her internally cringe. What the hell? 

The first thing they did was go around the class and introduce themselves. Their name, what they like, and why they picked this course. 

Everyone seemed here for the same reason, to get into acting for a play or movie. Or whatever fancied them. A lot of book readers, she thought once it came to the five flashy girls. 

The leader, or so Tessa thought made herself to be super good at... everything with acting. The other four nodded in agreement, but Cillian didn't seem one to phased by the sexual attraction the girls seemed to give the vibe of. 

Tess wondered why they were taking this class in the first place if they claimed to be so good. They were the only ones who had said that. 

Then it came to Tessa and she slowly stood. All eyes on her, "Hi. I'm Tessa Miller. Uhm... I love music and reading and uhm... Relaxing. I... Took this course because I want to expand my path into something new." She gave the class a tight smile and hastily sat back down. She had gripped her hands tightly in her lap and kept her eyes downcast. 

The last ten people went before Cillian praised them all for telling him about themselves before they spent the next two hours playing games. 

It consisted of a lot of small groups doing things, and she worked with a few different people in each game. Cillian tried to get every person involved and to constantly swap seats. 

Then it got serious and he took them through the module for the first term. There was a small project that was to be started by the following week, a short play with two people that was basically a monologue and acting it out for ten minutes. 

Tessa was paired up with a guy named Julian. He had blond hair that was combed back and faded edges. His eyes dark brown and his facial features were strong. 

The class went on as they went through some basics and more introductions to the whole acting thing. By the end of the class, they were to state an interesting fact about their new partner and then class was dismissed after the tables and chairs were put back in order. 

"So you're that model chick on insta?" A voice came from behind Tessa and she turned around to face of the five girls that had eyed off Cillian the whole time. "Didn't think you would actually do the course." Sofia laughed, flicking back her dark brown hair over her slender shoulder. 

Tessa kept her face neutral. To be honest, she wasn't even sure what to make of this situation. "Okay? Your point?" Tessa wanted to head into the library ASAP to get the reading material for tonight's homework. 

"I'm quite proud of you. That's so cool." Sofia said with that hidden malice that Tessa could easily pick up on. 

She knew how people can act fake. 

"Ah, thanks." Tessa gave her a smile, "I really must go. I have things to do." Tessa bobbed her head once. 

"Okay. See ya next time, Tess." Sofia and her squad walked past her. Tessa watched them go, laughing and muttering to each other. 

She would work hard and not let anyone else try and deter her from that. She was not the kind to let others trample on her. 

She headed to the library and get to work on her task given to her. Once she had finished her given tasks, she had headed home to rest. On the train, she thought back to the class. 

Most of the guys in the class had watched her like she was some meal as she did the warm-up games Cillian had prepared. She was used to the stares and tend to not pay much attention to it. If they verbally spoke to her in a way that would make her uncomfortable, then she would say something. 

But she would stay alert no matter what. Especially towards those group of girls. They seemed off and trouble circled them. 

She was glad to be back in her apartment and flopped on the bed as she discarded the letters on the coffee table. But one had fallen to the floor and she reached to grab it. 

It had been addressed to her in that familiar writing she knew. She quickly sat up and frowned, this time it wasn't thick. 

"Fuck." She muttered as she battled with her thoughts before she ripped it open. Time to see what else the bastard wanted. 

Reading the letter felt like the world had stopped. Her father and his bitch of a wife was going to come down in December to have a Christmas altogether. He wanted the family back together and he was willing to make amends. Also, he had added he wanted to see how Tessa was going with her studies. 

Was he really? Why now of all the times? She prayed silently to whatever God heard her in hopes that this wasn't some other shitty way of pinning the blame on her or her two eldest sisters. It would be totally messed up and would make her even angrier than ever. 

Tessa chucked the letter aside and rubbed her eyes. Great, she did not want to deal with Grace or her stupid sons who always bullied her. This was not how she pictured it. 

She tried to distract herself by playing her cello in her room, a cover of With or Without You and various other slow songs for the most of the afternoon until Esther came back from a shoot. 

The pair made dinner but Tessa would not tell Esther yet about the news she received today. She wasn't in the mood for it and Esther seemed to sense Tessa's change in mood so she had left her to her own thoughts for the rest of the night. 

Silence yet inside Tessa's head was a roaring tidal wave. 

[hey-hamlet]

BNHA AU Ideas : University Professors (in Love)

Also on AO3!

TL;DR:

Due to a long-standing feud between various Law and Science professors, the students from those respective degrees don’t get along very well. What better way to foster some good (or at least non-violent) relations between departments than to start a new science-in-law degree? 

Too bad the Law and Science professors - Yamada Hizashi and Aizawa Shouta, respectively - working on the course together hate each other's guts. 

(Well, until they fall in love.)

Oh and Izuku and Hitoshi are sleep deprived first years running on noodles and Redbull, but what else is new?

this is at a big ass, top tier university

all might is like, the david attenbourgh of this universe but he got injured on set and moved to teaching, he's not that relevant i just wanted to include him because hes a good man

so, aizawa is under all might in the science faculty hierarchy, but not by much considering how young he is. aizawas the animal physiology teacher and does shit tones of research with zoos and shelters for husbandry studies

now, the two big draws of this campus are like the wet sciences and their law section, but the whole campus is pretty swish: like if gatton and st. lucia were connected with land but still as weird as the other.

Now none of you know anything about my uni, so imagine not quite an Ivy League school, but still one of the fancier collages in your state, with a redneck agricultural campus slapped on. But the rednecks are liberals.

Now imagine they are run by the same people

so one of the law lectures retires and they get a new one! its mic! and now aizawa is already pissed. hes dealt with mic before riding his ass in ethics committees and honestly just making life harder for him than it had to be

and the university tells him to reduce the hostility between the two sides of the campus, they are going to be holding some law classes in the animal side and vice versa and aizawa is piiisssssedddd

and then they fucking, start a new animal science/law degree about animal ethics law and aizawa is flipping his fucking lid because all might is already the vet science-vet tech degree co-ordinator and since aizawa is so new, hes the highest-ranking person to not be a degree coordinator

so of course, hes the new degree coordinator

but oh no, nezu isnt done

hes coordinating with mic, and they are the two primary lecturers for the two first, second and third-year compulsory subjects so aizawa is having a mini breakdown rant at allmight in the staff room when mic bursts in to say hello

allmight shoves aizawa in the cupboard and nervously chats to mic as aizawa tries not to make a noise from where he was quickly shoved into a cupboard of skeletons. hes internally saying sorry to the skeleton of that one tutor who donated himself to the uni. mic leaves, allmight helps him out and aizawa is just caught between pissed and flustered tbh

so the science people band together to allow aizawa to drown his sorrows in the nice food on the other side of the campus

and they have fucking, disguised aizawa

hes in one of nemuri's wigs, a pair of sunglasses from snipe and one of the nice lab techs named inko gave him a big puffy coat

and so this pack of science nerds is penguin huddle sprinting to the one ramen shop they all love, trying to hide aizawa from nezu, hizashi, and other random law students/lecturers hes pissed off

so allmight swears he sees hizashi but its nbd he only waves

so they get there, and all give aizawa sympathetic looks and buy him his lunch even though he insists he has money. inko the lab tech is there too bc i love her and she is aggressively mothering aizawa

when they are done they run back to the science side because no one has the courage needed to stop a hoard of sprinting scientists. also: nemuri is the chem lecturer and you should know that

its like the middle of the school year when this starts, so aizawa and hizashi have to scrap together this degree real fucking quickly

even though the both of them have Opinions about the other, they refuse to let their students suffer bc of how poorly planned this was so they knuckle the fuck down and bust out 1.5 years worth of content before the end of the year. they dont do much in person, mostly just emailing

aizawa is softer on mic bc they guy isn't horrific over email. unknown to him mic has developed a full-on crush on this guy

hes like, crying to joke "hes just,,, he wants to do good for his students you know? he isnt just a lecturer for the research money,,, he c a r e s,,,"

the whole god damn science faculty is mothered by the head lab animal tech, inko and they see her fretting about one day, and its turns out this whole fucking time shes had a son and didn't want to say anything bc she didn't wanna impose

(yagi has a big ol crush on her but nbd)

and so shes surrounded by all these nerds asking ab izuku and how old he is, and what he likes to do and they've never seen her happier rambling about her son. She tells them she let slip ab the new degree a little early, and izuku wants to be in it so badly and everyone is real soft

hes graduating next year, so thats even more motivation for aizawa to buck up and make this degree work bc he knows one of the kids now, and from what inkos told him, the boys a good kid

the entire faculty has already adopted izuku

one thing she hasn't mentioned ab izuku is that hes got chronic fatigue syndrome

aka izuku is constantly exhausted, his immune system is a bit shit, and hes in chronic pain that isnt affected by painkillers, other symptoms can just like, pop up, its pretty not understood

anyway, thats the reason izuku wants to get into animal law, not vet practise, bc hes not sure he'll always be able to physically pick up the animals and he doesnt wanna do them like that

anyway, its near the end of the year and its time to set the OP threshold. I have 0 idea how you guys get into uni, but an OP is basically: your grades are ranked, then your subjects are ranked, then your school is ranked by a fancy test. Your OP is the score from 1-25 you get with all that jazz. 1-5 is like: you can do almost anything. 1 is like doctors, vets, law. 1-15 is pretty respectable, under than you might need to do a little fuckery to get into a course.

mic is pushing for like, 10, bc its a new degree

but aizawa isn't having that. op 2 or he wont sign off on it and mic doesnt understand why and aizawa just turns towards him

"im not having animals suffer lower standards than humans. standard law is an op 1. vet science is an op 1. im already making a concession here."

mic swoons a little tbh, they eventually agree on op 5

anyway, izuku has an op 2 so its nbd for him, inko is so proud of her boy! aizawa has a little "thank fuck" moment bc he really did want this kid to get in bc he sounded like a good kid. also, mic's nephew shinso is in the first class! aizawa is actively trying not to remember the kids name so he isn’t a dick to him for 0 reason

there is like a grand total of 80 people in this degree which honestly isnt that bad

super high rate of externals tho, so there are only 50 students on campus

20 students in the campus dorms

izuku is one of them, he was gonna get in anyway but they put him in and gave him a nice first floor room bc making the poor guy walk up and down stairs for no reason is just mean

hes in self-catered bc while hes not super picky, hes allergic to some stuff, and some other stuff makes him sick, so no dining hall

shinso is his nextdoor neighbour. hes in self-catered bc he put his form in late and thats the only spot they had left! he cant cook so save his actual life.

so, mirio is the ra and hes a big soft 4th-year vet, he works out to give the dogs hugs

amajiki is his neighbour he has a cat - i mean - very loud fish (aka: no pets other than fish allowed)

when mirio likes people, he just,,, puts a cat in their face, and insists its a fish until they get it

that cats name is guppy i don’t make the rules

ok so, izuku and shinso meet and bond a bit in freshers’ week (think hazing, but gentle, with loads of games and forced bonding), but shinso is intimidated bc izuku is smiley and social and has loads of friends

and that does a 180 when he gets back to his room after a late-night walk, seeing izuku crying in the kitchen as he waits for the kettle to boil because a hot water bottle is the only thing that might stop his arms from aching

and shinso like, hides bc he gets not wanting people to know what's wrong but from then one he is SUPER protective of izuku

anyway, end of the week izuku confesses that he has chronic pain so he might be a bit grumpy sometimes and shinsou has to be like "oh its nbd" when one day he almost smacked their other neighbour with a piece of frozen steak bc he was making too much noise in the morning when izuku got to sleep really late

on the weekend they play videogames and make popcorn as the other kids go home, and they get visited by inko and Hizashi

inko is mothering izuku and has two very fat rats in her arms that she dumps on him and he lights up

see: izuku isnt allowed pets. but no one said anything about inko

so she got the two softest, dumbest, babiest rats shes ever seen and they live on her desk now. and shinso is like "SONs" and they have rats in their jumpers while all 3 of them play mariokart

hizashi stops by to help shinso cook bc he admitted hes only been eating frozen shit. izuku is gently telling him off bc he could have helped! but shinso is like "no i needed to maintain my cool vibes" so hizashi gently grabs izuku, sets up the two chairs like fluffy thrones and they order shinso around the kitchen like hes a servant

shinso is loosing his actual mind laughing and so is izuku. they force him to make katsu curry and eat it in the kitchen on their thrones while shinso sits on a shitty box fridge. there are more chairs left, hes being extra

so, first day of classes, they have principals of law first, izuku drags his pained ass out of bed and he and shinso make their way to class, both freezing fucking cold holding mugs of hot drink

they sit down

the lecturer is mic

izuku is losing his shit and shinso is like "oh yeah didnt i tell you?" and izuku is trying not to cackle/punch him. he waves sheepishly at mic who waves back with great enthusiasm

mics first class is just

KAHOOT

it’s not even law-related, it’s just random bs animal facts

shinsos name is c a t s and hizashi is losing his mind bc izuku set his name as d o g s r b e t t e r

the lectures r live-streamed so the external students can join in real-time and monomas on the other end like s n a k e

hizashi is losing his actual m i n d, everyone just has variations of their favourite animal

also pwease during this lecture mic is just chatting w the students ab whats going to happen, sees izukus mug of tea and says

"ok and just so everyone knows, please feel free to eat and drink in my lectures, just dont let anyone know i said that

"sir this is being recorded"

"shhhhh"

pls bakugous that one asshole that whips out a full course meal and starts distributing it amongst his squad. bakugo is just a plain law student, but there are some plain law students taking this course as an elective

mic honestly looks bakugo in the eyes, and orders pizza for everyone but him. hes standing in font of the mic so its fucking recorded too. izuku is cackling

ok so, they have an hour break and go to the cafe, inko crashes and smuggles them outside, and gives them the rats

inko and izuku aren't super well off financially bc they are saving for a service dog and its EXPENSIVE, even tho inko makes ok money, husband divorced her bc izuku was sick, izuku has issues, was bullied in school, has had cfs for ages

so inko has these rats bc she "liberated" them from the end of a cosmetics trial she heped nemuri run and nerumi stood infront of the secruity camera and closed her eyes

anyway, next lecture is aizawa's

shinso has vaguely heard ab the guy from hizashi and desperately wants to sit in the back row. izuku has heard ab the guy vaguely from inko and desperately wants to sit in the front row. izuku wins bc they walked in through the lower door and shinso doesnt wanna make the guy walk up all those steps

aizawa walks in, nicely says hello to shinso, izuku and the over kid in the front row, tells the people in the back row that if they think he cant see or hear them from there they have another thing coming, and immediately starts talking ab how many people working in animal-related fields and in law are depressed

izuku raises his hand, while shinso is aggressively trying to pull it down

"yes, kid?"

"what if you're already depressed, professor?"

aizawa pauses, turns off the mic and loses his shit quietly behind his desk, shinso is red and trying to hide, izuku looks proud of himself. aizawa gets himself together, coughs, and turns the mic back on

"seems we had a bit of a technical difficulty, continuing on"

and the whole room loses their shit, and aizawa is grinning like an idiot but his voice is the same pissed monotone as usual

just have to Be There for aizawas lectures like everyone who doesn’t show up is like :///// idk why y’all like him so much he’s kinda boring and izukus like No you have to Be There

in Person

everyone thinks the guy is a boring old man who keeps breaking his computers. in reality, hes like 26, really tired, and keeps losing his shit so hard he turns off the mic so No One Can Know

one time he walked in in hot pink leggings and when he asked "any questions?" ochako (a vet tech student in the class) ask "sir where did you buy those because they look amazing" "the internet, ochako. any other questions."

and bc you cant hear the students all the externals are trying to work out what the question was. it becomes a meme

last day of lectures they all show up in matching leggings. aizawas soft but he Refuses to show them. they fucking found the site he bought them from, all of them have pink leggings in increasingly vibrant shades

shinso's are like, lilac

izukus are eyebleeding, highlighter pink

anyway! mic likes to share the tea from behind the scenes

and so they learn ab the "really sweet department head with a crush on a lab tech" and izuku loses his shit. puts his hand up, and mic says "yeah?"

izuku clambers out of his seat, asks mic to turn the recording off, takes the mic and stares down the class

"that lab tech in my mum and shes smitten for this guy. totally smitten."

'ooOH SHIT REALLY?"

izuku just grins and nods

"ok class, extra credit. can we go through this uni's stance on dating co-workers. anyone who gives me a quick, sighted explanation of whether or not we can hook these two up gets 5% of their final mark, no questions asked"

fuckin, izuku is so on board with this, and tells hizashi he'll leave the assignments on inkos table at home if he wants, the whole class gets so fucking into it

anyway, after all that jazz izuku spots yagi and inko out for coffee together and reports it as a win, the class cheers

as an aside: hizashi is very open ab the fact hes one of 2 degree coordinators but he hasnt mentioned the second

its also very obvious he has a crush on the second, and that hes a little older than them (hizashi is 32, shouta is 26) now, literally no one thinks aizawa is the other

bc hes 26, and wears fucking pink leggings to lectures. hes like, hes baby. hes so small, so young, takes his cat to class in a backpack

its literally only the externals who think he could be bc they think hes like 50. aizawa has the curse of just having great fucking bone structure, hes really god damn hot. half of their love letters pages is people thirsting over him and hes so mad ab it. he doesnt brush his hair and wears dumb clothes but apparently, that makes him relatable or some shit

anyway, hizashi is off-topic talking ab the lab tech that mothers the other course coordinator and shinso sees izuku perk up

they guy has been looking out of it all morning bc hes having a bad day, but wanted to go to lectures. anyway, after the lecture hes scrambles over to hizashi and asks

"oh my god is the other coordinator professor aizawa”

"damn, what gave it away"

"mum mothers him because he never eats and he apparently looks like hes barely 20, which is false, but thats mum for you"

once they get out of lectures izuku is like

"shinso. shinso"

and shinso looks lost

"you know what this means, shinso""

"no. no i dont"

"MATCH MAKING TIME"

[k-and-the-arts]

Hidden Doodles and Hidden Meanings

AU: “You’re the one in class who has tattoos all over their arms and piercings and everybody’s scared of you and one day I catch you watching cat videos and doodling in the middle of a lecture and wow you’re a dork” AU

Word Count: 2,200

A/N: I couldn’t think of a good title, whoooops

Everyone knew who David Schreibner was. He was the senior with tattoos covering every inch of skin along his arms and had multiple piercings along his ears and nose. He was intimidating, to say the least. Everyone tried to avoid David, afraid of what he might do or say if anyone got in his way. His facial features never moved from their stone-cold expression and he was always alone in the cafeteria. He had been at the school for a little over a year now and no one seemed to know anything about him. 

Matteo rubbed his face as his geography teacher droned on about the United States and all of the small nuances about the country. He grabbed his pencil and started twirling it lazily, attempting to entertain himself. It quickly became just as boring and he set his pencil back down on the table and let his gaze drift around the room. 

Most people were taking notes or drifting off like he was, but then his eyes landed on a black hoodie. David, who was a row ahead and one seat to the left, had a pencil in hand, but he was definitely not taking notes. Matteo watched as David drew small lines and shapes. The entire page was filled with dark lines and if he squinted hard enough, Matteo could make out a small bird or plant. He smiled to himself, focusing on the way the muscles moved in David’s hand or how his fingers moved across the pen. 

“Mr. Schreibner,” the teacher barked, breaking both Matteo and David out of their thoughts. 

A soft shade of pink slowly rose onto David’s right cheek as the teacher scolded him for not paying attention. A few snickers rose around the room but were quickly silenced by a glare from the dark haired boy. 

.oOo.

A week went by before David was brave enough to start drawing in class again. But when he did, Matteo immediately noticed. Instead of doodles, these were partial sketches of whatever came to David’s mind. An eye, a hand, a bird. Matteo was so mesmerised by the movements in David’s hand, that he almost missed when the boy paused and turned in his seat. When David’s eyes connected to his, Matteo quickly looked away, his cheeks and ears heating up. He refused to look over for the rest of the lecture.

.oOo.

Matteo was wandering through the library only a couple of days later. He was actively avoiding the cafeteria, as it was one of the days where his mind was like static and large groups of people made him want to sit in a corner with his head in his knees. 

He walked along the different aisles, fingers running along the spines of the books. His gaze drifted from one section to another, glancing at the empty tables when he would pass an opening in the shelves. He would occasionally stop and flip through the book, if the spine felt particularly interesting, or the size of the book was abnormal. None of them were what he would consider to be his taste; they were either biographies or research texts or thick map books. 

As Matteo continued to weave his way through the metal shelves, he became lost, unaware of his location in the library. From the dust settled on the books and shelves, he assumed they were sections anyone rarely visited. He spent some time in the dim back aisles, resting his forehead against the rows and rearranging the books so they were out of order. As he was resting against the metal, eyes closed and deep in static thought, a rustle came from behind him, causing him to jump in his skin. 

He turned around and slid a finger down the spine of one of the books behind him, hesitating, unsure if he wanted to see what was on the other side. After a few moments of contemplation, he ran his finger back up, hooking it on to the top of the book, and pulling slowly. A familiar figure came into view. 

David had his laptop set up and a headphone wire was emerging from the side. He had his hoodie up and head was resting on his crossed arms in front of him. Matteo grabbed a few more books from the shelf, allowing for a better view of the boy he was intrigued by. He focused on the screen, trying to see what such a mysterious boy could be watching. When his eyes finally sharpened and made out the picture on the laptop, he almost laughed out loud. David -- tattoo covered, dark clothing covered, intimidating David Shreibner -- was watching a compilation of cat videos. 

A sweater-covered hand covered Matteo’s mouth to stifle his giggles. He found it so endearing that this boy that everyone was afraid of doodles in class and watches cat videos for fun. 

Suddenly, there was a noise from the scene in front of him. It didn’t sound like it came from the video; it was too natural. It took a moment for Matteo to process that David had laughed. Giggled, even. He had never seen David smile, let alone laugh, and he didn’t process it in time to savor the sound. Luckily, only a second later did the sound occur again. This time, Matteo was ready, and the giggle he heard made his smile grow wide. 

He watched David watch cat compilations until a bell chattered, signalling that he had needed to go to class. He held his gaze on the mysterious - and dorky - boy in front of him one last time, before leaving the library.

.oOo.

The following day, Matteo had an idea. As students were filing in to the Geometry classroom, he quickly scribbled down a note on a torn piece of paper. He greeted Jonas half-heartedly, waiting for a particular person to enter the room. As Jonas was chatting away in the seat next to him, Matteo watched as David strolled into the room and right to his seat. He looked different today. Not in the way he dressed or held himself, but to Matteo, it was all… different. Suddenly, his features weren’t stone-cold, but soft and warm. His tattoos and piercings were intimidating, but artistic. His dark clothing, well, was still dark clothing. But it worked for him. 

David laid his head down on the desk, face in his arms, as he did every morning before the lecture. Matteo took this opportunity to awkwardly shuffle around his desk and drop the note into David’s bag. When Matteo returned to his seat, Jonas was giving him an odd look. “What was that about?”

Matteo shrugged, “he dropped a piece of paper and I just wanted to return it.”

Jonas nodded, still skeptical, but dropped the topic. 

The class went by dreadfully slow, even while watching David doodle in his notebook again. Matteo’s leg bounced as he waited for the bell to ring, wanting to see David’s reaction to the note. When the annoying trill finally sounded, Matteo kept himself planted in his seat, watching the boy. Jonas prodded him to get up, but after multiple failed attempts, he rolled his eyes and walked away. 

David finally snapped out of his drawing haze and went to put his notebook in his bag, pausing when he noticed something unfamiliar. Matteo laid his head on his arms as he watched the paper emerge from the bag. David’s eyes scanned the torn scrap, the corner of his lip curling up. His head snapped up and started to look for the author, when his eyes landed on the only person left in the room. Matteo smirked softly, which caused David’s eyes to grow wide. 

Matteo got up from his seat and stood in front of David, who looked gorgeous up close. His mind went fuzzy - and not like the static it was the previous day - and almost lost his train of thought. Stay cool, he told himself and worked up the nerve to start talking. 

“I thought it would be cool to watch cat videos together at lunch today, yeah?” Matteo lifted his chin slightly.

David nodded and replied softly. “Yeah.”

.oOo.

“Do your tattoos mean anything?” Matteo asked one day, walking to the library.

Eating lunch in the library became routine for David and Matteo. It kept Matteo away from the crowded lunchroom and David enjoyed the company. They would get stares from students in the hall and Jonas continued to pass odd looks, but Matteo brushed them all off. His crush on David - which he discovered after he couldn’t sleep one night - was growing stronger and he had no intentions of stopping it. 

He had started asking more personal questions, want to learn everything he possibly could about David Shreibner. He knew about his love for cats and art (especially drawing birds), his close relationship with his sister, and that he wanted to be a filmmaker after Uni. He had all kinds of ideas for films, all revolving around aliens and monsters and science fiction. But now, Matteo wanted to know more. 

David rolled up the sleeves of his long-sleeved t-shirt as he explained. “Some of them are for the culture I grew up in. This one,” he pointed to the sunflower and a flower that Matteo didn’t recognize, “was my sister’s idea. She loves sunflowers, since they’re so happy and joyful and always face the sun. She thinks of them as always searching for the bright side of life. 

“The other flower…” his voice went quiet and his finger drifted to the unfamiliar plant, “is a Protea flower. It symbolizes change and transformation.” 

Matteo lifted his gaze to try to meet David’s eyes, but he was still focused on the tattoo. “What’s it for?” 

Dark brown eyes finally met cloudy blue. Matteo couldn’t read his expression but he could tell it was a difficult subject. He quickly tried to take his question back, “it’s okay, you don’t have to - ”

David smiled sadly, rolling down his sleeve. “I just… can’t talk about it yet.” 

Matteo nodded, then motioned his head toward the direction of the library. “Let’s go, yeah? We have some videos that need to be watched.”

.oOo.

“How did you find me? That first time you saw me watching cat compilations?” David asked.

David and Matteo were laying on Matteo’s bedroom floor, joint being passed between them. They were buzzed to the point of asking deep and philosophical questions, which neither boy minded. 

Matteo took a puff from the joint and hummed, handing it to David. Their fingers brushed, causing chills to run down his spine. “I was just walking through the library. I didn’t want to be in that fucking lunchroom anymore. I just needed to get away from it. The noise, the people. I was losing my mind. I probably still am, just like my mom.”

Silence followed Matteo’s reply. The sandy-haired boy let his head droop to the side to look at David. The joint was between his lips and Matteo couldn’t help but stare. When David took the joint from his lips and blew smoke, Matteo’s gaze followed every movement. From his lips to the top of the smoke trail, then back down to his face. He focused on how long his eyelashes were and the slope of his nose. The hairs he could make out above David’s upper lip.

Suddenly, his hand reached out, the back of his fingers brushing lightly against David’s cheek. His head snapped over to the movement, causing Matteo to flinch away before his hand got caught. 

It occured to Matteo what he just did and heat rose to his cheeks. He turned his head back to facing the ceiling and dropped his hand to his side. “Sorry, I -- sorry,” he mumbled. 

Fear raced through his mind. He stepped too fair, he let his emotions get too attached, he --

Something was running through Matteo’s hair. He sat still and focused. Fingers. Long, soft fingers were being pulled through his hair. He carefully turned his head, afraid of the moment going away. 

David was staring directly at him now. Matteo was never good at reading people, but there was something in his eyes that told him that David wanted this, too. 

The fingers continued to weave their way through sand-colored hair and Matteo let his fingers wander down a tattoo-covered arm. The pads of his fingers barely touched David’s skin as he let them slide to his elbow. He could feel the goosebumps rising on the other boy’s skin and it made him smile. 

He brought his hand back down David’s arm, down to his wrist. David’s hand paused in his hair, as if to let Matteo’s touch lead the way. Matteo gently wrapped his fingers around David’s wrist and brought it away from his hair. He brought his free hand up and drew lines and shapes in the palm of the other boy’s hand and he felt him shiver from the delicate touch. Matteo chuckled and finally weaved his fingers with David’s and let their hands drop to the ground. 

Matteo closed his eyes to soak in the moment. He could lay like this forever. 

[bazypitchandsimonsnow]

Pink and Black Roses: A Watford Cove Wedding

Rating: T

Genre: Fluff/Light Angst

Word Count: 7764

Summary: Eleven years after they first met in Watford Cove, Simon and Baz are getting married. Based on "frightened kiss" request.

Read on AO3

AN: I’m still working on the knight and warlock fic, don’t worry, but this is already done and edited so I want to get it up cause I'm so excited to post it. It's the last request of the 2018 batch, and I thought we needed to go out with a bang. So here's a future fic sequel to Watford Cove! Enjoy :D

———————————————

Simon

“Is my hair alright?” I ask. Penny sighs as she’s adjusting my tie.

“Your hair looks fine, Simon,” she says.

“Is it really?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“But maybe-”

“Simon!” She steps around me, standing between the mirror and I. Her hands grip my shoulders hard. Not tight enough to hurt but enough to keep me steady. “Stop fussing, you’re fine. Not just your hair, you. Stop panicking. Nothing is going to go wrong. And even if something does, stay focused on the goal.”

I snort, a wholly undignified sound for a grown twenty eight year old man I’m told. Like I care. “You sound like Baz’s uni football coach.”

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, well, I’m probably smarter.”

“You definitely are, Pen, always.”

She smiles smugly, nose up in the air. “Of course I am.” I chuckle and hold her forearms. A lot of my nerves are already melting away. I don’t know what I’d do without Penelope. “Now, your tie is far more straight than you are.” I snort again. “We should probably get out there with everyone else.”

“Agreed.”

“You’ve got everything, right? Vows, ring, big smile?”

I reach into my pink suit jacket, feeling a piece of paper and and cool metal on my finger tips. I grin wide, all the way to my ears. “Yeah, all good.”

Penelope nods once, then reaches down to firmly hold my hand. “Awesome. Then let’s go.”

We walk together, arms swinging slightly, out the door of the powder room towards the main entry. There’s two doors between us and the main room of the Watford Cove Event Hall. Baz is walking down the aisle first with his party so he’s on the other side. (I wish I could push the doors open and see him.) My party is here, milling about and getting ready. Agatha keeps shifting around her black flower crown with a small frown.

“It doesn’t feel right,” she grumbles.

I stroll up to her and put her crown centre. She turns to me, and immediately grins.

“There,” I say, “perfect.”

“Hey Simon, how are you doing?”

“Honestly? I’m freaking out. But I’m also happy.”

“You better be! I don’t want to be wearing this silly crown thing for nothing.”

I frown and put my hands on my hips. “It’s not silly, it’s cute.”

Her mouth quirks up, one hand on her pink skirt. “Yeah, I suppose it is, even if it’s a pain to wear.” She looks around at the room with a hint of awe. “This whole ceremony is beautiful, really. I’m happy to be a part of it.”

I grin in full force again. Agatha is really nice. We met in uni, sitting together in an intro art class. She noticed how terrified I was to share my work and helped me calm down. We started chatting, and immediately became friends. Penny quickly came to like her too, but Baz took a little longer. He was even a bit jealous because he thought she had a crush on me. Agatha quickly dispelled that notion by introducing us to her girlfriend. Baz felt like an idiot, and I showed immense restraint by only teasing him for a minute. Now we’re all close friends. Close enough that Agatha agreed to fly all the way from California to be a groom’s maid in my wedding.

“Thanks,” I say. “Glad you’re here too.” I look out at all three of them, dressed in pink and black, different parts of my heart. “Glad you’re all here.”

“I’m happy to be here!” Micah chimes in. “This is all so awesome. And I feel like a pinterest photo in this suit.” He spins around, pink jacket flapping about while his black rose boutonniere flys off. Penny sighs as she picks it up.

“Careful, love,” she says. “Black roses are expensive, you only get one of these.”

Micah leans forward and kisses the top of her head, just under her own black flower crown. There’s nothing but affection in his eyes. “Understood, dear.”

Damn, years later and they’re still so sweet. Penelope met Micah long before she met me, when he was an exchange student at Watford High in Year 10. Apparently their connection was instant. Pen was already talking about marriage in high school, and the two went through with it right after uni graduation. They’re very happy. I hope my marriage is as good as Penny and Micah’s. Though looking at mine and Baz’s relationship for the past eleven years, I’d say that’s pretty well guaranteed. We’ve been through a lot, yet we’re still together. Being married will be fucking incredible.

“Are we all ready?” Gran walks in, dressed like a fancy lady. She looks great in her pale pink skirt suit with her hair all done up like a duchess or something. She’s got a black rose boutonniere too. It’s apparently a wedding thing to have flowers everywhere. Not that I mind, I love flowers. Hence why I’m wearing some on my head.

“As long as I don’t sick up, then yeah,” I chuckle.

Gran sighs, shaking her head. “You’re not going to sick up, Simon. You always say you will and you don’t.”

“Agreed!” Penny oh so helpfully adds in. I glare over my shoulder, and she sticks her tongue out. We may be fully fledged adults, but in some ways, we’re very much still children.

“You’re going to be fine, darling.” Gran reaches up to adjust my crown. It’s the one I’ve had since I was seventeen. Gran bought it for me on my first day in Watford Cove. It’s just a little  line of pink rosebuds across the top of my head, simple but pretty. Gran said that the one time my Mum was able to phone her while with my Dad, she called me her rosebud boy. My Mum called me such sweet things, and didn’t even live long enough for me to remember them myself.

“You’re thinking about your Mum, aren’t you?” Gran whispers, snapping me out of it. She’s got a tiny, sad smile on her face. I nod slowly.

“Y-Yeah. Sorta wondering what she’d think and all. It’s inevitable, I guess.”

Gran nods. She moves both hands to my front, holding my jacket. Her smile is still small but very kind. “Well, I think I knew my own daughter pretty well, so I can tell you a few things for sure.” I can see the way her eyes are quivering. She’s trying to keep from crying. “My darling Lucy loved you before you were even born, Simon. So she would be incredibly happy that you have found true love. If she were here, she’d be walking you down the aisle instead of me.”

Fuck, that hits me right in the heart in the best way. I smile, a few tears falling down my cheeks. “Darn it, Gran,” I chuckle, “I didn’t want to start crying until the vows at least.”

“Sorry, love.” She wipes at my face with her silk handkerchief. “Don’t worry, you’ve still got enough tears in you for Basil.”

“Oh definitely. I’m going to be a fucking waterfall.”

“Language, love.”

“Sorry, Gran. I’m just nervous.”

She cups my cheek, running a thumb under my eye to catch a stray tear. “I know, darling, I know. Don’t worry, it will be great.” There’s a thumping on the door, making me jump and my breath catch. That’s our signal. Gran holds out her arm for me with a grin. “Showtime, Simon.”

I nod rapidly, and take her thin arm in mine. “Alright. Let’s go.”

Agatha, Micah, and Penny line up in front of us. Agatha knocks back, and the oak doors swing open. The three start slowly walking forward. I take a deep breath, and follow behind.

The Event Hall is insane. Despite being a small town, Watford Cove apparently expected to host huge galas or something, it’s enormous. The ceiling is high and curved, decorated with a fancy mosaic. The walls are intimidating dark wood with pretty carvings. Though they’re covered up with flower garlands right now. The rose garlands are alternating pink and black, like the rest of our decorations, because we’re cheesy and like to stick to our aesthetics. As Gran and I walk forward, everyone’s standing up from their benches. And I mean everyone. We ended up inviting a lot of people. My aunt and uncle, my cousins, Aunt Fiona, Mitali, Martin, Penny’s siblings, Baz’s siblings, his extended family, his uni friends, my uni friends, Mr. and Mrs. Wellbelove, even Ebb and her twin brother. I can feel all their eyes on me. I gulp down my nervous lump and try to keep smiling at them.

But when I look at the altar, well, I don’t have any trouble smiling at all.

He’s standing right there, right at the end of aisle, grinning from pointed ear to pointed ear under a canopy of black and pink silk. His suit isn’t very traditional either. Malcolm nearly had a heart attack when Baz announced what he wanted to wear to the ceremony, but it looks amazing. A leather jacket pairs surprisingly well with a black button down and slacks. A pink rose is attached his lapel, same as Dev and Niall next to him, while Mordelia has a pink flower crown on her head. Baz’s hair is slicked back, but a few strands falling in front of his pretty face. I have to resist the urge to run up and tackle kiss him. This is supposed to be a serious event dammit. Even though I’m wearing a flower crown and he’s wearing a biker jacket.

Gran walks me to the steps and we stop. She kisses my cheek. I can feel a few saltwater drops hit my skin. I’m pretty sure a few are mine too. I hold her hand as I climb the white steps. Just as I reach the top, I turn back. Gran gives me one last big smile from below. I smile back, mouthing “thank you.” She nods once, and we let go.

But Baz is right there to catch my hand.

He pulls me the last step towards him. We stand facing each other, both hands together. I’m grinning, I can’t stop grinning. My heart is about to burst out of my chest.

“Hi,” I whisper. It’s all I can manage. My brain is too overwhelmed to think of words.

“Hi,” he replies. “Glad you could make it.”

I chuckle. “Same to you.”

“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. Please be seated,” Mr. Kelly, our officiant says, loud enough that I know he means to shut us up. Baz gives me fake look of deference. It makes grin even harder. Christ, I really can’t stop grinning.

“Today,” he announces, “we are here to witness the union between two men I hope you all know.” A chuckle rumbles through the crowd. “And it will be my job to officiate the marriage between Simon Snow Salisbury and Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch.” I squeeze Baz’s hands. He squeezes back. “I’ve gotten to know these two wonderful men over the past few weeks. They’re very smart, very kind, and very much in love. They’re one of those rare, beautiful cases of finding true love at a young age. And it’s my honour today to help them celebrate their union and make it legally official. Now, I believe the grooms have their own vows prepared. Who would like to go first?”

Baz and I already decided who would go first. We both know I’ll be a complete mess after hearing Baz’s vows, so I need to go first. Baz and I (reluctantly) let our hands go. I take the folded note paper out of my suit pocket. My hands are shaking but I’m still able to read the words.

“Baz,” I start, “as you and everyone else knows, I’m not that great with words. So it took me awhile to figure out what to say. How can I just, summarise everything about you in words? We’ve been together for a very long time and I I know you better than anyone. So I know that you’re a lot Baz, and I mean that in a good way.”

“I hope so,” Baz says with a smirk. The crowd laughs with us.

“Don’t worry, I really do. You’ve always been a lot in a good way. I still remember the day we first met. You held your head high, like you could take on the world. I couldn’t look away, and I really haven’t stopped looking ever since, I guess. That was just the start though. I soon found out you were ‘a lot’ in other ways too. A lot charming, a lot funny, a lot kind, a lot of just everything good. You’re a really great person, Baz. You amaze me all the time. You’re the strongest, most astounding person I know. Being with you is always a new adventure. Sure, we’ve had our ups and down.” (We have small fights over dumb stuff but only a few big fights really, like our pre relationship fall out or brief break up after uni, aka the worst three months of my fucking life.)

“But ever since high school, I’ve always been happier with you. No one makes me feel like you do, even eleven years later. So, yeah, I don’t want to be with anyone else ever. I just want to marry you. And when we’re married, I promise to listen to your weird music, to repaint your nails when they’re chipped, to hold onto you tight and never let go, and just, y’know, love and care for you for the rest of our lives. I mean that with all my heart, because you’re the best thing in the world. That’s, uh, that’s it.”

I take a deep breath as I put the paper back in my pocket. Slowly, I look back up at Baz. He seems to be awestruck I think. Eyes wide, mouth hanging open slightly, tears welling in his eyes, but also happy. He can’t be too surprised. He must know all this already. I’ve said this stuff before in in pieces at different times. Maybe hearing it all together and in public is weird. I reach out and squeeze his hand. He smiles and squeezes back.

“Dammit,” he chuckles, “I’m supposed to be coherent for this, love.”

I along with everyone else laughs. Baz takes his own deep breath, looking more nervous than I’ve ever seen him. Even as he pulls his own note paper out, he keeps holding my hand. I think he needs to. I don’t mind, I won’t let go.

“Dear Simon,” he says, “I’m writing this three days previous at my desk, trying to figure out what to say on our wedding day, You’re sleeping four feet away from me, curled up with our cat, drooling on your pillow.” I giggle and my face turns bright red. “I look at you and a small part of me is still astounded you want to be with me. You are bright everywhere I'm dark. For awhile I felt unworthy because you were so perfect. But I've learned you aren't this untouchable ray of sunshine. You're even better. You're a real person with problems and fears, who has come out of horrible things tougher but not jaded. And because we’re both messed up, we've learned to be messed up together. We keep each other sane. You're my boyfriend and my partner. l'm more grounded with you by my side. So I’ve realised perfect is too simple a word for you. You’re kind, caring, funny, strong, and incredible, Simon, and I'm amazed by you everyday too. I feel better with you, and I have almost since the day we met. As I write this now, watching you sleep in our bed, there are things I want to make sure you know at our wedding.”

He looks up at me, gazing right in my eye. It’s impossible for me to look away. “I promise to watch your stupid romcoms all the way to the end, to get you sour cherry scones when you’re sad, to support your art even if it means lugging around enormous canvases, and to always help you pick what pastel outfit you should wear. But most of all, I promise to be there for you, no matter what. You’re the love of my life, Simon Snow Salisbury. I already know we’re going to be together forever, but I can’t wait to be married to you as well.”

I sniffle without shame. How the fuck am I not supposed to cry after that? We agreed to both have promises in our vows, but that’s all I knew before today. I want to snog him right now, other people be damned. But Gran would be upset. So I settle for just squeezing his hand. Baz squeezes back, and after putting his paper away, he reaches up to carefully wipe at my eyes. I can’t wait to be married to him too.

“Very beautiful vows” Mr. Kelly says, and he sounds a little teary himself. “My words absolutely cannot follow up, but I’ll try.” Everyone laughs through their quiet crying. “Simon Snow Salisbury, do you wish to be bound in matrimony to this man, till death do you part?”

“I do,” I say without hesitation.

“And Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch, do you wish to be bound in matrimony to this man, till death do you part?”

“I do,” he says immediately too.

“Perfect, good to hear. You may exchange the rings.”

Baz lets one of my hands drop and squeezes the other. “You go first, love.”

My throat is still too choked up to do anything but nod. I take the ring out of my pocket. Since our styles clash so much, Baz and I decided to get rings made in the same design but made from different materials. They’re both smooth on each side with braided metal in the middle. (I don’t know how it’s done, but it looks so cool.) Baz’s is black tungsten with a silver braid. It matches his leather jacket perfectly. I easily slip it over his long, bony finger.

“Now your turn,” I say.

Baz eagerly brings out my ring. It’s rose gold on the outside with a regular gold braid. Baz grins at me as he puts it on. The metal is cold right now. But I know eventually it will warm up, because I’m never taking off unless I really have to. And maybe I won’t even then.

“By the power vested in me by the Government of Great Britain,” Mr. Kelly says grandly, “I pronounce you husband and husband. You may kiss the groom.”

Mr. Kelly is barely done speaking before Baz and I are leaning forward. Baz cups my cheeks tenderly, I grip his forearms, and our mouths meet in a simple kiss. But it’s not simple. It’s our first kiss as husbands. And that makes it incredible. I’m so lost in the warm feeling of his lips I barely hear the applause and huge cheers from the crowd. We reluctantly part for politeness sake. Baz and I are both grinning and crying. We probably look ridiculous, but who the fuck cares? We’re allowed to look ridiculous right now.

“We’re married,” Baz whispers.

“We’re married,” I echo, equally shocked and so fucking happy.

Baz weaves our fingers together, then turns us to face the crowd. It’s quite a sight to see. All our family and friends, standing up, cheering for us with big smiles. My eyes meet Gran’s. Her smile is softer, and her claps aren’t as hard, but everything is said in the way she looks at me. Congratulations, she says with no words, I’m so proud of you.

I smile as wide as I can back at her.

Me and Baz step off the riser together. Baz raises our hands together, earning a particularly loud cheer from all our loved ones. The cool metal of Baz’s ring presses hard into my skin.

I’m so goddamn happy.

———————————————

Though it’s a bit tedious, taking the wedding photos is a lot of fun. The edge of the Wavering Wood is right near the hall. It’s a flat field with lots of beautiful trees and flowers in the background. The photographer is one of Baz’s many cousins, and he’s very good. He gets us to do many different poses. Some are serious, like looking at each other longingly under a willow tree branch, and some are funny, like Baz suddenly hoisting me up off my feet while I giggle in shock. I’m pretty sure I’m going to love all of them.

We take a lot of photos with our family and friends too. Gran, the Grimms, our wedding parties, some pictures separate and some together. I notice the that first Grimm photo is, well, a bit grim. I tell Baz to smile more, and he glares at first, but does. The others follow suit. They still look stiff, but it’s better. I’m more than pleased.

Baz is taking a picture with his siblings when my phone buzzes. I look down and don’t recognise the number. But Tibby, fellow community centre employee and indie artist, said she was getting a new number soon.

“Fuck, I have to go get this,” I grumble.

“Simon,” Baz groans, looking at me and probably ruining his photo. “C’mon.”

“It might be Tibby! She said she’d call me if our art got into the New Artist's show at Maureen Paley.” Baz still looks upset. I walk up and kiss his cheek, lightly touching his ring. “Two minutes, okay?”

Baz sighs with affectionate exasperation. “Fine, two minutes.”

I kiss his cheek again then dash off across the field. I answer the phone on the last ring. “Hey, Tibby. Did we get it? I’m a bit busy so can you-”

“Hello, Simon.”

I freeze. My blood runs ice cold. The ground is opening up underneath me, I swear. I can feel my muscles shaking so hard I nearly drop the phone. It takes a good few seconds for me to find my voice again.

“Hi, Dad,” I say shakily. “H-How did you get this number? I changed it last year.”

“You have an artist’s Facebook page, son. It was easy enough.”

Shit. I’m going to delete that the second I get home. “Oh, okay. Why are you calling?”

“I heard you were getting married today.”

“Oh,” I squeak. “Um, yeah, I am. Well, I did. But...how did you find out? You don’t follow me on social media, and we haven’t talked in awhile.” How could he know? He shouldn’t know. Fucking hell, he can’t  know.

“I met a member of the Grimm family at an education conference last year. We followed each other on Facebook. He just posted a picture from his cousin Basilton’s wedding, and imagine my surprise when I saw my own son kissing the groom. So, did my invitation get lost in the mail?”

I gulp down the lump that has suddenly formed in my throat. “It’s, uh, small. There aren’t a lot of people...”

“Not enough space for your own father?”

God, I forgot how quick he is. How easily he can turn the conversation back to his side. I pull at my hair almost painfully. “I-it’s just, Dad, I-”

I take a deep breath, reminding myself I’m not that weak kid he can pick on anymore. I’m twenty eight years old now, dammit. I have a life, a job, a wonderful husband, nothing he can take away. I don’t have to be scared anymore.

“Dad,” I say firmly, “you weren’t invited. Whatever bit of good relationship we had is long gone. You don’t approve of anything in my life. Not my profession, not my sexuality, not even my fashion sense. I wanted to enjoy my wedding day. Which meant you couldn’t be here.”

There’s a long pause. My heart beats faster with every passing second, but I did it. I stood up to him. After all these years, I can finally tell him off. At least a bit. But that’s more than ever before. I did it, I did it, I di-

“You insolent little brat, how dare you?” he growls. And all of my confidence blinks away in an instant. “After everything I’ve done for you. All I ever did was try to raise you to be better, but you spit in my face. You’re just bloody useless. You’re a complete idiot, a moron, a leech, Simon!”

He keeps going on, and all I can do is stand there. Just stand and listen to my father tear into me. I can’t move. I’m a kid all over again, listening as my father loudly berates me for whatever new screw up I had done. My whole body is shaking, tears streaming down my face, every muscle in my body shaking. I can’t even put down the fucking phone.

“I wish you were never born,” he yells. “You’ve never been anything but a disappointment, you stupid little f-”

The phone is suddenly ripped out of my hand. A familiar hand holds my shoulder. Baz stands in front of me. His face is completely impassive. I know that face, he’s in cold arsehole mode.

“Hello,” Baz says. “This is the man Simon just married. I’m here to tell you that as long as I’m around, you will not hurt him anymore. And you absolutely will not ruin his wedding day, understood? No,” he growls, cold cruelty turning into fury, “ you listen to me, you prick. The second I hang up I’m going to block this number. Don’t contact my husband ever again, or I’ll use all our family’s considerable wealth and influence to ruin your goddamn life. Goodbye.”

Baz hangs up and blocks the number, just like he said he would. Then he immediately wraps his arms around me. I sink into his embrace and bury my face in his shoulder, racked with full body sobs. Baz just keeps holding me.

“It’s okay,” he whispers. “It’s over. He won’t hurt you anymore. It’s alright, love.”

“I’m sorry,” I choke out. “I-I shouldn’t have answered, I’m-”

“None of that, love. It wasn’t your fault. You haven’t heard from him in six years, of course you wouldn’t think it was him.”

I sniffle very unattractively. “H-He saw a photo, of us, today. He asked why he wasn’t invited, and I told me the real reason, a-and he went off at me, and I-

“Shh, it’s alright, I heard. You stood up for yourself, you courageous fuck. I’m so goddamn proud of you.”

“You-You heard?”

“Yes. Well, the last part. I saw you go stiff and I got worried so I got closer, but I didn’t want to step in unless you needed me. I heard the of your amazing speech to him, and I thought everything would be alright. I was walking away when I heard you crying. I don’t know what he said, love, but I don’t care. Whatever it was, he will never talk to you like that again. I promise, okay?”

I nod against his shoulder. “O-Okay.”

We stand there for awhile, me gripping his suit and him stroking my hair. Baz keeps holding me up, like he always has for me, like I have for him too. Without a second thought, I tilt my head up to kiss him. It’s not hard or forceful, just firm. Baz kisses me back, swiping his thumb across my cheek and holding my waist. Our lips slowly slide together. Baz pulls me even closer. With every passing second of him kissing me, all my old fears melt away. They go back into the past where they belong. My father can’t hurt me anymore. He never will again, not as long as Baz is here. I’m glad Baz feels grounded with me. Because I absolutely feel grounded with him too.

We pull apart, even though I’d gladly kiss him forever. “Come on,” he whispers, “only a few more photos and we get to go to the reception.”

I nod, weaving my fingers with his. “Alright. Thank you.”

He places a last peck on my temple. “Anytime, love.”

We go back to the group. Gran notices my face immediately. She takes out her ever present handkerchief and dabs under my eyes and tells me to blow my nose with it. Penny squeezes my hand, Micah puts an arm around me, and Agatha gives me a sympathetic look. None of them why I was crying. I’m very grateful, because if I talk about it I’ll start crying again. I’ll tell them later though. They deserve to know.

The rest of the photos go off without a hitch. Well, not any big hitches. Micah gives me bunny ears in one photo, which makes Agatha snort and Penny roll her eyes with a smile. Dev, Niall, and Mordelia lift Baz up on his side, causing my lovely husband to let out a string of curses at them in both English and Greek. We get a final picture with all our family and friends, who are family too. Not my father, though. I don’t need him. These are the people I care about, and care about me in return, far more than he ever did.

———————————————

The reception is held in the Event Hall dining room. It’s covered in similar decorations, lots of pink and black everywhere. I love it. It's sort of how our flat is decorated, honestly. Our wedding parties sit at the head table, but we have to go “work the room” as Baz calls it.

“I want food,” I whine.

“We’ll get food soon, love,” Baz sighs. “We just have to go be nice to people.

“People are gross.”

Baz giggles, leaning against me. “That’s my line.”

I lean into him more. “We’re married, so what’s mine is yours now, remember?”

He giggles again. It’s a really pretty sound. “I suppose you have a point.”

I kiss him quickly, and we go off towards the tables. Everyone is very nice, congratulating us, wishing us a happy marriage. Ebb is weepy of course, saying how proud she is of me after all I went through, and I thank her for being here and always being my friend. I pick up my little cousin while Baz talks to one of his uncles, and she tries to take off my flower crown and rip my hair out. I don’t mind. She’s too adorable to stay mad at. Baz’s Aunt Fiona gives us both huge bear hugs and messes up our hair. We spent so much time with her during uni she’s pretty much become my aunt too. My art school friends ask if I’m going to make a wedding sketch series like I mentioned. One of Baz’s older relatives asks when we’re going to have a baby, because "the gays can do that now, right?" We get away from her quite quickly. It’s an enjoyable, slightly exhausting whirlwind.

Eventually, we finally get to sit and eat. I fall into my chair with a groan.

“Tired, Si?” Penelope asks with a smirk.

“Shut up,” I grumble.

“Now you know how I felt at my wedding, Si. Bloody exhausting affair, getting married.”

“Amen, Penny.”

The catering staff brings out the first course, French onion soup, and I immediately drink it down. Baz tells me to slow down but I’m so fucking hungry. I was so nervous this morning I barely ate. I wolf down the main course too. It’s chicken cordon bleu, Baz’s favourite. Honestly, it’s sort of become my favourite too. Some of his posh tastes have rubbed off on me in our eleven years, of course. Some of my tastes have rubbed off on him too. He really likes sour cherry scones now, which I find absolutely amazing.

Before the cake, our parents/caregivers go up and do speeches. Gran goes first. She talks about how glad she was to take care of, what a good person I am, and how elated she is that I’ve found happiness in art and with Baz. She says she looks forward to seeing more of the incredible things I do. I hug her fiercely, thanking her again for everything she’s given me. I can never thank her enough for that.

Mr. Grimm goes next. He’s stoic of course but very sweet, saying he’s glad Baz is happy with me. At the very end, he admits that he hasn’t always been the best father, but he’s very proud of the man Baz has become and Natasha would’ve been too. I grip Baz’s hand very tight at that. I can see him holding back a lot of tears. (Years of therapy has helped with a lot of his guilt over his mum’s death, but it’s still a hard subject.) Baz thanks his father, and even hugs him. Wow. That usually only happens at Christmas after a glass of wine.

Penny of course makes a speech too. She’s equal parts sarcastic and kind, saying how she really fucking hated people until she met me. That I'm a very good friend who she's glad she met. And even though she didn’t like Baz at first, she’s seen how happy he makes me, so she’ll let him stick around.

“It’s not like I’ll go anywhere she tells me to,” he mutters with a pleased smile. I sigh heavily. These two, my god, what am I going to do with them?

Dev and Niall make a speech together. They tell embarrassing stories about Baz from their childhood together, making Baz glare and flush. I try to stifle my laughter but it’s useless. They say I'm the best influence on Baz, and he's been far happier since almost the moment he met me, even before we were together. That's nice to hear. The pair congratulates us at the end, wishing us years of wedded bliss. And Baz does smile. So he’s not that mad, really.

“Time for cake?” I eagerly ask.

“Yes,” Baz says with a smile, “time for cake.”

The caterers roll in the huge three layer cake. Keeping with the theme, it’s black and pink with lots of flowers. They’re super realistic looking even though they’re made from sugar. I want to eat all of them. Baz and I cut it together to a round of polite applause. The cake is cherry red velvet. I didn’t know that flavour existed until we started look at different kinds of cakes. Baz and I agreed to it almost immediately. So of course I eat three slices.

“Simon, you’re going to be sick,” Agatha says.

“I’ll live,” I reply, waving my fork.

“Will you really?” Baz drawls sarcastically. “Because I am not dealing with cherry scented vomit. Again.”

My cheeks go bright red. “That was one time! How was I supposed to know cherry flavoured beer was a bad idea?!”

“Because the name itself sounds like regret,” Penelope oh so helpfully adds in.

“Exactly, Bunce.”

I stick out my tongue at both of them. “Like you’re one to talk,” I grumble, “you fell off your motorbike while trying to pop a wheelie on a hill.”

It’s Baz’s turn to look embarrassed, flush crawling up his pretty face. Dev, Niall, and Mordelia all start laughing at him. Not even Baz's glare shuts them up. “That was one time,” he grumbles.

I put my hand over his, spinning his ring around. “Yup. Aren’t we a pair, love?”

He chuckles and flips his hand over, lacing our fingers together. “That we are, darling, that we are.”

Once we’re done the cake, we’re told it’s time for our first dance. I’m a bit nervous because I’m a pretty terrible dancer. Baz and I have been practicing in preparation for today, but I’m still nervous. I hope I don’t fuck it up.

We stand in the middle of the dance floor. The room gets a bit dimmer, replaced with coloured lights, making everything a bit more quiet and romantic. Baz looks at me, half his face illuminated in silver and pink light. His smile is literally shining. As if he could get anymore dazzling. His arm wraps around my waist, I hold his leather clad shoulder, and our hands stick out together. His ring presses into my skin again. I like that, a lot.

“Ready?” he asks.

“No,” I chuckle, “but let’s do it.”

The music starts. It’s an acoustic version of one of Baz’s weird pop punk love songs. I like things soft and he likes things punk, it’s a happy middle ground, like the rest of our relationship. And we start dancing.

Honestly, it’s barely more than swaying. We move in a small circle on the smooth floor. But I don’t step his feet, which is a vast improvement from usual. There’s barely any room between us, just how I like it. The song floats through the air, surrounding us in it’s quiet melody and soft lyrics.

Suddenly, I’m 17 all over again, dancing with Baz in my room to Troye Sivan the night before he might’ve left. I was so terrified back then, desperate to keep Baz with me, and he was desperate to keep me too. That night was such a teen romance cliche, but I don’t regret it at all, and neither does Baz. Thankfully, we aren’t scared anymore. We’ve known for a long time that neither of us are going anywhere. And I’m reminded of that by the way he looks unflinchingly in the eye. I don’t look away either. I quickly realise there’s something I still haven’t said today.

“I love you,” I say, quietly, just as the song ends.

Baz’s grin gets even wider. He leans down, forehead pressed to mine. Everyone is cheering around us, but all I hear is his voice.

“I know,” he whispers, “I love you too.”

We keep our foreheads together for another moment. Unfortunately I can’t snog him silly right now. Maybe later. (Definitely later.) We bow to our adoring friends and family. They all look so happy. There’s barely a trace of Davy’s words left in my mind. He can’t ruin today. He can’t ruin anything anymore and never will again. My life is too strong to let him.

We invite everyone to come to the dance with us. The music picks up into one of my favourite pop tunes. I’m almost immediately jumping to the beat. My crown nearly flies off I’m so enthusiastic, making Baz snort with laughter. Soon everyone is dancing happily. Agatha is actually literally swing dancing with her girlfriend, laughing loudly. I dance with everyone I can. Swanning about with Gran, jumping with my groom’s maids and man, letting my little cousin stand on my feet. I see Baz doing similar things with his friends and family. He’s doing a sort of waltz with Daphne, and I’m chatting with my uncle. We smile at each other. It may just be my mind tricking me, but I swear my ring warms up a bit.

———————————————

“Have you got enough clothes?” Gran asks.

“Yes, Gran,” I reply.

“Toiletries?”

“Yes.”

“Food? You do get hungry-”

“Gran,” I hold both her hands firmly, “I’m fine. I’ve got everything we need, alright?”

She takes a deep breath, though her mouth is still a thin line. “I’m just unsure how you and Basil can fit all you need in that backpack.”

She indicates my camping bag, which is, in my opinion, quite large enough. “I promise you, Gran, it’s fine. Plus we’ve got Baz’s enormous tail bag too. You could fit a country in there.”

“No complaining about the tail bag when it’s going to hold all your snacks, Salisbury,” Baz says from where he’s sitting on his bike. He was talking to Dev and Niall, but he has damn super hearing, the wonderful bastard. I stick my tongue out at him.

I look back at Gran, who’s still nervous. I step closer. “We’ll be fine. If we don’t have something we need, we’ll just pick it up along the way.”

“Will you be safe though?”

“I’ve ridden on Baz’s motorcycle many times before and I’m still here.”

She frowns, obviously annoyed. “Not for three weeks straight across the UK and Ireland. What if it breaks down?”

“Baz just got a tune up, but if there are any problems, he'll fix them. He's got his toolkit in the infinite tail bag.”

"What about your jobs?"

"The community centre loves me. They were more than happy to give me a month off for my honeymoon. And Baz isn't teaching any summer courses this year so the university doesn't need him until late August."

"What if you get lost?"

"Baz has stuff memorized and we've got GPS, but," I pat my enormous bag, "I've also got a physical map in here with our route drawn out in case our phones die."

“Alright...”

She still looks very nervous, because of course she is. Gran shows her love by fussing. The day I moved to London she was a nervous mess. I wish she wouldn’t worry, but I appreciate her caring. I kiss her forehead.

“I’ll be alright, Gran,” I say. “We'll be back here having dinner with you and everyone else before you know it. Okay?” Watford Cove is our last stop before going back to London, of course. We’ll be having a big feast with both sides of the family. It’ll certainly be a good end to a long trip.

That makes some of the tension fall from her body. “Okay. Call me when you can?”

“Of course.” I look to my left, at Penny, Micah, and Agatha. “And you guys will keep the flat in order right? And make sure Cherry is good? He gets jumpy so you’ve got to play with him for a little while. And he needs two meals a day. And-”

“We know, Si,” Penny says, rolling her eyes.

“We’ve got your checklists,” Micah adds in.

“First week and a half will be mine and Felicia's job,” Agatha says, repeating what we agreed on. “Then we'll go back to California and I’ll hand off cat and house sitting duties to Penelope and Micah for the next week and a half.”

“And I’m taking yours and Basil’s suits home for safe keeping,” Gran says cheerily.

I grin. Of course I already knew all that, but it’s good to hear it again. “Awesome. We’ll call to check in, and call us if you need to.”

Penny waves dismissively. “Don’t call us, Si. Everything will be fine. Go enjoy your honeymoon. We’ll clean up the reception, hold onto your fancy clothes, and take care of your nightmare pet well, trust us.”

I pout. “Cherry isn’t a nightmare, just energetic.”

“Mhm, right.” She pushes lightly on my shoulders. “Now go have fun. And don’t crash into anything, please.”

“Don’t insult my driving, Bunce.” Baz calls back. “I’ve had a motorbike for over a decade and haven’t crashed once.”

“But you’ve almost crashed more times than I can remember.”

Baz glares harder. But he holds out his hand, and Penny takes it. They shake once. “See you in three weeks, Bunce,” he says with a small smile. “Thank you, for everything.”

She shakes back, smiling too. “You’re welcome. Now get on with your honeymoon.”

“Will do, if Simon can get going.” He raises his eyebrow at me. I huff, blowing hair from my eyes.

“Hold your horses, we’ve got time”

“It’s getting dark, love. And we should get to the first hotel soon if we want to stay on schedule.”

“There’s a schedule?” Agatha asks a bit astounded.

“Oh yeah,” I snort. “Baz has our road trip planned down to bathroom breaks. For a punk, he loves to be all structured and shit.”

Baz holds his nose up, looking extremely snooty. “I like to know where I’m going, sue me. And you liked the trip schedule when I showed it to you, so fuck off, love.”

“I don’t think marriage is going to change much for you too,” Penelope chuckles quietly.

“Yeah,” I sigh dreamily with a big grin, “I know.”

Even though he’s a prick (I adore him, but he is), Baz has a point. We need to get going. I hug Gran, Agatha, Penny, and Micah as tight as I can. Baz hugs Malcolm, Daphne, Dev, Niall, Mordelia, and his other siblings. They stand together in front of the Event Hall, the lights from the end of the reception still shining from the windows. I zip up my floral leather jacket (20th birthday present from Baz) all the way up, put on my riding gloves over my ring, and secure my pale blue helmet. Baz throws on his own jet black helmet. It has silver vines that I painted on. I’m very proud of it. I sit on the bike and wind my arms around his waist, like I have a hundred times before, and like I will a hundred times more.

Baz looks at me over his shoulder, a glint in his beautiful eyes and a playful smirk on on his mouth.

“Ready to go?” he asks.

I almost say, I’d go anywhere with you, but that feels just a bit too cheesy. Maybe I’ll say it later. For now, I just nod, and say, “yeah, let’s get going.”

His smiles wider, and puts a hand on his visor. “Allons-y,” he says.

He still says that all the time, eleven years after our first kiss. I’m reminded of that night every time he says it. And I love it.

“Allons-y,” I reply.

We flip down our visors, give one last wave to our loved ones, and drive off into the dying light of the late of the evening. Baz drives us through Main Street. I recognise the places. Ms. Pritchard’s Bakery, the drug store with my favourite nail varnish, the park where I asked Baz to be my boyfriend, the ice cream parlour we all went to after graduating high school and then later uni, and a familiar hill in the distance; Where Mt. Olympus is, where I first kissed Baz, and where he proposed to me last Christmas. The memories race through my mind as we race through the streets.

Baz takes us up a hill. I get a lovely view of the entire town. It looks beautiful at night, with lights like stars and the sparkling lake in the distance. I hold Baz even tighter. I’m so unbelievably grateful for what I found in Watford Cove.

———————————————

Awwwww totally cheesy, I know. They deserve cheesy goodness after all the shit they went through. And here's a little insight into their future lives: yes, Baz is a university professor, but he refuses to change his fashion sense. He teaches a first year English 101 course (his hell) and a third year queer literature course (his heaven). He's everyone's fave prof because of how badass and sarcastic he is. Simon works at a community center with little children while still doing art on the side. He loves making kids happy and tries to be the kind of person for them that Ebb was for him growing up. For art, he does showings at local galleries, sells prints at hipster markets, and posts stuff on his tumblr blog. Simon and Baz are obviously still pretty damn in love. They have a date night once a week, drive around London on Baz's motorbike all the time, love to snuggle on the couch together to watch TV, all while living in a pastel pink flat covered in punk posters along with their nightmare cat, Cherry. In summary, they're very happy.

Two other things: this is the design I based their rings off of, and this is the song they dance to. Y'all might recognise it as the song where the title for one of the chapters of Watford Cove came from :) It's one of my fave songs ever so I'm absolutely projecting lol.

Thanks for reading, hope you liked this glimpse into the future of my punk/pastel Simon and Baz. I certainly enjoyed writing it. Watford Cove has always been one of my faves so returning to that world was nice. So that's it for the requests. Black Swan will keep updating, I'm currently working on the warlock and knight fic and that will hopefully be finished in a couple weeks, baring any school or health complications, and I'll def be opening requests again in May. Thanks a million to those who requested stuff. And just as big a thanks to everyone who liked, reblogged, commented, and/or left kudos on the fics. It's been a blast. See you guys next time :)

[ac-ars]

Never had a thing for fairytales

all i can say is that this wasn’t meant to be posted lol

Never had a thing for fairytales

He creeps the shit out of her walking around the class quietly, yet still letting her know that he is moving and she doesn't even need to look at him. That's the safest option to stare at her paper despite the fact she isn't sure what to write, but as long as she's not looking up or checking how's everyone doing, she is safe from him paying attention to her.

He's been the most intimidating guy that has ever taught her anything; not even those old, respected professors, who's been working at uni for years and he isn't a real professor here yet. He is still studying physics, getting master's degree in teaching and he already freezes her blood being only few years older than she is.

The test is hell as always, every week, but Luna is already used to those even if she always is dying zombie, studying whole night before, not wanting to fail anything cause she would be majorly fucked. She looks at him from under her lashes when he is walking towards the desk, so she sees only his back. His hands are behind, his fingers laced and she can see he is playing with the weird ring he is always wearing, keeping her mind wondering whether he is married or not. She doesn’t really care, at all even, it’s just the fact that no one really knows anything about him, just his last name and the fact he is still studying. That’s all and Luna has always been curious person, so no one really should blame her here.

The end of her pen somehow ends up between her teeth, because this dumb question is too complicated for her to even understand, damn him, she studied for this, she knows this, yet the way he constructed the question makes her wants to throw up. He always wants to be sneaky, making different versions of the tests, changing the order of the exercises and all shit possible to let them do absolutely nothing but writing only stuff they have learned.

Luna is absolutely stressed even if the questions she answered and problems she solved are enough to pass, her grades are at good level, she isn’t really endangered specie here yet, but it’s still unsettling how he keeps walking around in his expensive shoes, tight, black pants and always white shirts. She doesn’t even want to know how many of them he possesses; the number would probably scare her away, very, very away. She has never seen him having his hands in the pockets, never laughing loudly or drinking, or eating, at this point she wonders if he is a fucking cyborg or maybe just some kinda creepy vampire and she ended up in weird twilight au, but it really doesn’t seem so.

He just probably is this kinda asshole who has nothing better to do than making student’s life worse and the fact that he has this perfectly shaped jaw and long legs doesn’t pull Luna’s mood up in any way.

Few seconds later he catches her staring and all of the blood leaves all parts of her head, just to end up focused on the cheeks, and yes she is here done, blushing, and he didn’t even open his mouth to tell some shit that will make everyone look at her like at a weirdo who dares to interrupt the test. The pen moves out automatically away from her face before Luna puts it on her paper and wants to put her eyes down as well, but they can’t leave his, staring at his cold brown look.

“Are you done yet?” He asks her, his voice stable, not blank at all, but it’s not changing any tone. Just few people look up to check what happened, who dared to do something earlier, to make Balsano think they are done before the time is up.

Luna just shakes her head, more like moves it to the sides softly, hoping it will be enough for him to leave her alone. One can wish. “Then do you have any question?” She repeats her earlier movement. He frowns softly, still keeping it cool though and Luna just wants to keep writing, to look down, but she really wants to not say a word and it means she has to keep her eyes on him.

“Are you feeling bad? Is your pen not working?” He throws possible reasons of her not solving her test right now and this is the worst, because Luna has like minus one excuses. He is looking at her all the time, expecting any kind of explanation, and here she is, deciding to probably commit suicide in his class. “No, everything is fine.”

Blessing her voice for not shaking, she just waits for him to say some nasty shit or whatever, he is a creep and he is capable of all shit as long as he won’t be sued for it. He crosses his arms with soft hum, one of his eyebrows is softly twitching, Luna wouldn’t notice it if it weren’t for her staring at him.

“Well, then, why aren’t you writing your test, Valente?” He asks eventually, apparently deciding to leave her alone, and bless the stars for that.

“I am, I was just thinking about this one question,” she says and he sighs dramatically. “I am very sorry to inform you, but the answer won’t appear on my face, so just focus on the test. All of you.”

Luna just wants to go home and die.

Her head hurts like bitch and that’s the first thing Luna can feel after she was drinking last night. Every single time she asks herself why is she like this, promises never doing it again and yet she always ends up dying of headache and confusion. Sunlight going through the curtains on the windows blinds her majorly and she just turns around and growls in the pillow.

Something is kinda wrong, because the smell isn’t right; it’s not her pillow definitely, it’s softer and definitely doesn’t have her floral pattern. Luna curses under her breath, of course she pulled this kind of shit, obviously, she wouldn’t be herself if she chilled the one time Pedro wasn’t there to drag her home.

She actually remembers talking so some guy, she remembers that he was hot as fuck and honestly nice so there’s not much damage done. The comforter is wrapped around her body and when she manages to open her eyes she sees it’s all white. The walls are white, and furniture is white, there are books on the shelves and there is this fancy, fancy desk, with laptop and a fuck ton of some weird papers on it. This is getting weirder and weirder honestly, she wants to walk around and see what kind of person she slept with last night, who left her alone in their bed, yet she decides that she should get up and try to not die of awkwardness.

The only thing Luna can put on is the black tshirt someone for sure put next to her on the bed. She throws away the comforter noticing this little hickey under her hip bone and she kinda blesses the fact it’s not on her neck or something. The fabric of the tshirt seems to be too thin and Luna feels a bit uncomfy in it, yet there is nothing else so the tshirt has to be.

There is a voice coming from the, as she guesses, kitchen, because as she leaves the bedroom she ends up in just as light living room, not letting herself stare around for now. Maybe if she gets lucky she will be able to do so later, but for now all Luna needs to do is find the guy, if she actually ended up with that guy.

The only opened door she can see is on the other side of the room and this seems like right door. Luna feels as if she is in this weird horror game, but the place doesn’t look like horrors do. She stops herself on the doorstep, kitchen doorstep and almost falls down, because the drunkest her always picks the hottest guys. She sees bare back facing her, few circle tattoos curling down his spine, another one going over his shoulder blade. His sweatpants are super low on his hips, very, very nice hips, and Luna has no idea what would have to have the front for her to not be dead.

She clears her throat for him to answer and may the lightning strike her in this very moment when he turns to her if she isn’t dreaming at this point, because her own asshole physics ta is apparently the one who left mark under her hip bone.

Smirk appears on his face, this kind of lazy smirk she would never expect him to have, yet at the same time it fits him incredibly much. “Sleeping beauty woke up, good morning.” He says before taking a sip from his cup and putting it on the counter. “Do you want anything? Coffee? Tea?”

Luna is too shook to actually answer anything. She must have been drunk as fuck last night or he must have been impossibly charming, which she decided was because he was drunk as fuck too.

She opens her mouth barely, but no words leave her mouth when she remembers that she is wearing his tshirt and is completely naked underneath. Just after she thought so he carefully eyes her up and down, making her feel actually naked. What Luna tries to ignore is his chest and the fact he doesn’t seem to be any ashamed of standing like this in front of her.

“You know-” he starts, crossing his arms. “You were definitely more talkative with my head between your thighs.”

If she was lost, confused, dying even few seconds ago, now she definitely ended up in hell for cursing at his ass every single class and now it’s karma going back to her. Matteo smirks even more seeing her reaction and she really just wants to go home since it’s misfire of the century.

She clears her throat once again to say anything really, whatever.

“I don’t like coffee, so,” she mumbles and this must be enough for him for now.

He sighs and turns around to reach for another cup in the cupboard above him. Luna doesn’t make a step towards there, staying still in ‘her’ doorstep and hoping that if she stays there long enough he is gonna just disappear and she will wake up in her bed.

“Well then, tea it is, Valente.” He says, setting the water to heat.

“Luna.” She interrupts and he looks at her with raised eyebrows. “What?”

“I think that if we already reached the stage when you have had your head between my thighs, you can use my name. At least now until I leave.” Luna crosses her arms, glaring at him and he seems very amused, but also there is some other small thing in his look, and she can’t catch it yet.

“Are you already planning to leave? I am here making you tea, so you aren’t leaving for now.”

She snorts, leaning against the doorframe. “Where can I find my clothes?”

He chuckles softly, “I have no idea, probably by the entrance door. You were super in hurry last night. Not that I complain.”

Luna covers her face with her hands, this is definitely too much for her, for her patience and for her heart, because with every line like this she is more and more sure of what happened last night and as much as she loves the idea, she still hates the guy and he probably hates her. So, there is something wrong with him right now; he is acting actually chill and definitely not sending her cold stares, quite opposite in this very moment.

He leaves his coffee and her tea on the counter and goes to her. Well, he intends to go through the door to leave the kitchen, but that Luna didn’t think and he bumps into her.

“I don’t really mind you walking around in my tshirt, but if you miss that pretty, little dress-” His hands end up on her hips as he is passing her by and making himself a place in the doorstep, and Luna loses it for a moment, remembering his hands on her the night before and she honestly doesn’t want to leave, but her body is one and her brain is second. She has to go home, take a shower and try to forget about this one time thing and how hot this fucker looks without his shirt on.

She steps softly on the wooden, cold floor until she is by the counter to get her tea and wonders how it’s gonna be now in class when she has been here, seen him like this. He is back quickly anyway, standing too close to her for it to be normal, Luna doesn’t mind, it is not a forced thing and at this point she doesn’t mind his presence.

“I got your dress and all the stuff to the bathroom, if you wanna shower I left you a towel there, so that’s all on you, okay?” He says and lowkey smiles, but it doesn’t end up believable and she nods softly. “Are you always so quiet or it’s just with me?” Matteo asks, nudging her slightly and she looks at him. “No, I am just thinking.”

“About what?” He asks demandingly and it feels like the creep ta and Luna pouts. “You are weird.”

“Weird.” He repeats raising his eyebrows and she nods. “What do you mean by weird though?”

“That you are not- you know.” She mumbles, not sure how to say that.

“An asshole.” Matteo guesses and Luna nods, making him laugh. It feels kind of safe to act chiller here, at least she knows he isn’t as mean right now as in the class. “I can be an asshole if you want though.”

She looks at him with raised eyebrows, because what is he even talking about? She has no idea also if he is making fun of her or not; he is having this almost serious face and apparently doesn’t care about the fact that they are too close for it to be acceptable. Yet Luna doesn’t move away either. “I don’t want you to be mean, enough that I have to stand you in class.” She pouts and tries to not look away.

Matteo sighs dramatically pulling away from the counter and walks slowly towards the white table. His hands are in the pockets of his sweats and he seems to make every movement lazily, which is lowkey surprising how unforced everything is. He is about to sit down on the chair, but something stops him.

“Are you hungry?” He asks before yawning and Luna can only stare at him for first few seconds. “Luna.” His voice wakes her up and she just nods, deciding to use the situation as much as possible.

“So you say you hate me, don’t you?” He asks, reaching for jar with chocolate while Luna takes the sepals away from her strawberry before she puts it on her pancake. “I never said I did.”

“Then what is that?”

“I don’t know,” she rolls her pancake so she can eat it without using any fork and knife, who would really? It’s breakfast. “I know that I never really liked you, because you this weirdo who doesn’t let himself as a question and you always make me feel tiny, tiniest like this.” To show how tiny, Luna points at the strawberry. “See? This small brown seed, that’s how small I feel and I hate this.”

Matteo chuckles shaking his head and she kicks him under the table. “Hey, don’t kick me.” He orders with amused voice. She scrunches her nose.

“You are making fun of me.”

He looks at her through the table and smiles taking a bite of his pancake. “You look very cute like this. And you are very tiny by yourself, why would I try to make you smaller?”

“I don’t know.” Luna shrugs, taking a bite of her pancake. “You seem like a guy who likes to torture people or something.”

Apparently chocolate and strawberries are deleting her chill and filter and at this point she keeps telling whatever her brain is thinking, and Matteo seems to notice this because he is staring at her continuously from over his plate.

“The point is, that you-” she points at him with her chocolate finger. “Have to chill, because we all plus you, will have grey hair by the end of the semester.”

He leans to her and reaches for the wrist of her hand she extended, pulling it to him and taking her finger to his mouth softly. She stares at him speechless, not sure what the hell is going on with this guy, but he seems to be very smug seeing her face. “You had chocolate on the tip of your finger.” That’s all he says and Luna tries to breathe, she can’t really though and they both know it, what makes this asshole even more full of himself.

“So, you can continue your conclusion speech about my working, I will take all advice you have for me.”

She knows he said it ironically, but manages to not look any awkward; or at least more awkward than she was. “I just genuinely think that we all would be happier if you chilled a little. No one is gonna be trying to trick or cheat on you when they all know what shit can you pull, y’know? Maybe someone would finally ask a question after the lecture if they weren’t creeped by you.”

Luna blesses herself for keeping her voice stable and quiet; all she wants to do right now is to hide under the table to make him stop looking at her like she was extra pancake he wants to eat when he is hungry.

“O-kay, do you have anything else, any complaint to make?” He smirks leaning back against his chair and crossing his arms.

She suddenly remembers, and maybe this is not the best moment to touch this topic, but who cares honestly? “Yes, you made me a damn hickey!”

Matteo smirks even more. “Do you want another one?”

The question is weird as fuck, again constructed the way Luna has no idea how to answer and what to answer, since he loves to take points for writing something he never asked. She is sleepy as hell since she overslept and is very mess today (like always, but today more), and morning test was the best thing to woke her up, obviously.

As always he is walking around, between rows of the desks, his arms crossed and steps are quiet. He is doing it slower than usually, maybe even chiller and Luna can’t stop herself from just watching him until he turns around and she can dive into her test again. She crosses her legs with dramatic sigh and pouts, skipping to another question and she wants to give up.

She looks at him hoping that he won’t notice, but he is staring at her and doesn’t take his eyes away. The first thing he does is small frown and he opens his mouth, yet stops himself letting the breath out loudly. He shakes his head very obviously and turns away walking towards his desk again, however this time he moves the chair away and takes his seat, still not stopping looking at the class.

Luna smiles to herself when his eyes lock on her and she raises an eyebrow. Corners of Matteo’s mouth curl up as he sends her a wink and maybe he won’t be that bad himself now.

[wanna-17]

yoon jisung first meeting! AU

summary: in which you are flaked by your friend on open day and meet a cute uni tour guide 

length: 1.7k

a/n: oops this turned out very long but hope you guys enjoy it regardless

you couldn’t believe the fact that you’re friend had flaked you for the uni open day 

well she didn’t exactly flake you as she really was very sick and had a fever 

you even went to her house to check if she was alright 

the uni open day was basically a day in the holidays prior to start of uni where all the first years could go and visit the uni they were gonna start attending and be able to meet people in their degree and get a tour of the uni by older uni students and receive aesthetic booklets and freebies you wanted the freebies lmao

and like in order to get a spot, you needed to sign up 

and you were really shy so you mostly relied on your friend to do the talking

but you had no choice but to go bc you’d already signed up and you also wanted to see the uni properly since you never got the chance to go as it was in the city 

idk if this is a thing for anywhere in the world like in Australia we have open days but its not like compulsory or anything just beneficial lol

so there you were at your uni open day 

you almost hopped on the wrong train and it took you a good 15 minutes to find the meeting area

luckily you’d given yourself extra time in the morning so you were right on time

you told the girl at the desk your name and grabbed the files and freebies bag that was pre-prepared and you also had to awkwardly explain to them that your friend was sick and that you also had to get her freebies bag lmao

after getting all that stuff, you awkwardly hung around in the corner of the big room by yourself pretending to be scrolling through your social media me 24/7

everyone around you had at least one friend keeping them company and everyone was chattering 

and you were just.......there feeling super shy and awkward and self conscious 

and then suddenly there was a tap on your shoulder

you looked up and met eyes with a boy smiling brightly at you 

it was probably the brightest smile you’d ever seen in your life 

and when he smiled, his eyes would sort of crinkle in a cute way and it made his eyes look like crescents?????

you were low key blown away, why was such a cutie talking to you?

“hey, so i saw you standing by yourself, did you need any help?” asked the boy cheerfully

“oh-uh-i-am-fine” you stuttered awkwardly in reply

firstly you were an awkward bean and secondly this guy being cute did not help your emotions at all 

you had been to an all girls high school and you had basically turned socially awkwardly and lost the ability to talk to those of the opposite gender except for your dad lol me

“oh ok! are you waiting for someone?” asked the guy 

“um i was meant to come with my friend but she got sick so ‘m also grabbing my friend’s stuff” you replied quietly with your head slightly bowed down 

“cool! that’s so nice of you!” chirped the guy, “i’m jisung by the way, what’s your name?” 

“i’m y/n, nice to meet you jisung” you replied 

“well i can keep you company before the open day officially starts, we never start on time” 

for the next few minutes you guys chatted briefly and had small conversation 

you were in awe at how nice and patient he was 

most people would have probably gotten annoyed at you because you were quiet, shy and super awkward 

he was like a ray of sunshine, super cheerful and slowly he made you feel more comfortable even though your replies were short and boring 

the open day started and the person at the front who you assumed was a professor called out for the tour guides to come to the front 

jisung who was standing next to you walked up to the front 

you were surprised because wow you were talking to a uni tour guide??? who was so nice???? and cute????

jisung happily went to the front and joined the other uni tour guides who were forming a line at the front 

the professor made them say their name and to share anything about themselves

when it was jisung’s turn you paid extra attention 

he was just so bright and lovely and you couldn’t get over how his smile could light up the room 

“hello freshmen! my name is jisung and im a second year. to be honest, i graduated high school a few years ago and had to put off uni for a couple of years due to problems. when i started last year, i was quite nervous and insecure because i was older than most of the students but here i am now! uni is a great place and no one at uni cares about your age, your circumstances, your background and all that. i’ve made a lot of friends and have been welcomed by so many people. so why am i saying this? i’m sure that there are some of you that are very nervous and worried so my goal is to help you guys adjust to uni and help you to love it and make the most of your time here!” says jisung in his speech 

the professor nodded in approval and all the first years clapped

“hey guys no, clap like this! it’s called the jisung clap” says jisung as he deomonstrates a cute yet silly clap where it was he clapped in a circle 

everyone laughed and followed along 

*cue everyone in the hall clapping the jisung clap for a solid minute* 

you laughed along with everyone jisung was definitely a fun and nice person 

after the tour guides finished all their intros 

the professor was like “ok first years get into groups of about 15 people and you’ll be allocated a tour guide”

you stood there awkwardly frozen in your spot as everyone around you made groups with their friends and were introducing themselves to new people

you felt really worried and intimidated as a gush of anxiety rushed over you 

just as you were planning to escape with your bags of freebies a voice called out your name which you recognised, “hey y/n, come and join my group!” 

it was jisung, he was a couple of metres away from you already and he used his hands to wave you over

you gave him a meek smile and had no choice but to join his group

the tour went for a good 2 hours as the uni was massive 

jisung was so nice that he looked at everyones timetables and showed them where the lecture rooms and tutorials would be held

he also gave everyone tips along the way, told everyone where the best and worst bathrooms and just really fun facts about uni that actually made the tour interesting 

and throughout the tour you couldn’t help but find yourself slowly falling for jisung

yes he was handsome, but his personality glowed - he was so sweet and down to earth and humorous 

but you felt hopeless because your last crush was in grade 10 when a boy opened a door for you and you felt your heart racing lmao 

and you couldn't help but think that jisung sorta paid extra attention to you during the tour??????

like when the other first years were chattering amongst themselves he’d appear beside you and chat with you 

and during lunch he squeezed tomato sauce on your sausage sandwich and it was probably one sided but as he was squeezing the tomato sauce, the sausage sandwich was on a fragile cheap plastic plate and it nearly toppled over and both of you guys had tried to save the sausage lmao and in the process your fingers made contact 

and you were blushing so hard that you couldn’t look up

but little did you know he was smiling to himself bc you were so cUTE 

he’d also offered to hold your numerous freebie bags and your stuff when you had to go to the bathroom 

bc tbh you knew he was so nice to everyone so it wouldn’t have any special meaning 

and tbh it was probably just a fleeting small crush lol

as the tour came to an end, you wondered if you’d ever see jisung again bc the campus was so big and he was a second year so you didn’t have classes with him 

just as you were prepared to leave, you looked at jisung one last time who was chatting to the professor 

you silently said goodbye dramatically in your head as you took one last longing looking at him you were too shy to say goodbye even though he had said goodbye to all the first years in his tour group lmao introvert problems ME 

just as you had taken like 7 steps you heard someone call your name 

it was jisung’s voice which you had come to recognise as he had talked nonstop for 2 hours 

“y/n!!!!” 

“hello jisung” you said shyly

“y/n you didn’t even say goodbye to me” pouted jisung 

“haha oh sorry..” you replied unsure of what to say 

“so like are you heading home now? wanna go together?” asked jisung

you looked at him in shock and started blushing before nodding 

“well if you were wondering, i dont mean to be creepy but i had a look at your application form and you actually live 2 streets away from me so i was thinking it’ll be nice if we could travel to uni together if you want, but that’s only if you want no pressure!” said jisung 

you were so surprised that you didn’t know what to say so you just nodded as he smiled brightly beaming at you 

“let’s go now then, we can grab some ice cream place that just opened!” said jisung 

and as you two walked out the uni, you couldn’t help but think this year was going to be really great and that uni was something you could look forward to and that maybe you could overcome your shyness in talking to guys

and if your friend hadn’t flaked on you, you probably would never have met jisung, so you were thankful to your friend !!

omg i feel like this is terribly written and super long and ranty. it was actually 2k at first and i had to cut it down lmao. as always, please let me know how you find this!! im still not over seeing wanna one in real life TT 

find others here: daehwi (x), sungwoon (x), woojin (x) and guanlin (x)

[takemedancingmaine]

Honest

@deathbylowden you didn’t ask me specifically, but I really hope you enjoy this!

Listen – Honest by Drake Bell

This is unusual for you. You’re not the type of person to play ‘hard to get.’ You’re a firm believer in the idea that if you like someone you shouldn’t waste that time by playing a foolish game. Yet here you are, turning Jack Lowden down.

It’s not that you would ever, in a million years, want to turn him down. He’s got something about him, something inexplicable, that draws you in. Or maybe it’s not just one thing but a bit of everything, his humour, his eyes that reach your soul, his charm. This is only your first encounter, but you know him thanks to his face being all over the place, interviews in magazines on the newsstands.

So what the hell are you doing playing hard to get? You’re arguing with yourself. On the one hand, you really do think he’s genuine. On the other, you can’t help but think he must have girls fawning all over him and you cannot imagine just being one in a dumb crowd. That voice inside you is terrified of just being another in a long line. That voice wins out.

“Can I take you out for dinner one you get off work,” he smiles, dimples flashing. He’s leaning against the side of your desk with his arms folded over his chest.

You work as an intern for his public relations director. You’d only just started a few weeks ago, and knew he was one of the clients you’d be working with—which was perhaps why you’d taken such close notice of his previous interviews—but being in his presence was different than you’d expected. He was intimidating, for sure, but he didn’t ooze arrogance, which was a comfort.

When he’d been introduced to you, just a half-hour before, he gave you a smile that made your heart feel like it was tied to a thousand balloons, ready to float away. He’d gone into his meeting then, and on his way out he’d stopped at your desk to chat—or simply to ask you out. He cut right to the point, he did.

“I can’t,” you avoid his gaze and look toward the computer screen to the spreadsheet you’re editing. “I’ve got a class early tomorrow morning,” you shrug.

“A class?” He asks a little confused.

“I’m only here in the afternoons on Wednesday’s,” you nod. “I’m a masters student at King’s. I have class on Wednesday morning.”

Jack drops himself into the chair on the opposite side of your desk and leans forward. His elbows on his knees and one of his hands running over his beard. “What d’you study?”

“Photojournalism,” you answer, your eyes shifting from the screen to his face and back again. You note his confusion and continue before he can say anything else.

“It’s odd, that I’d be working here. I know,” you tell him. “It’s great money though, and I do get to work with photographers on a regular basis, gain some experience that way,” you glance to him again. Keeping your eyes on him this time, forcing yourself to look into his blue eyes that haunt your dreams. “Besides, I studied media relations in uni, so this would’ve been quite the proper fit if I hadn’t changed my studies.”

“What d’you want to do?” He asks, placing his elbows on your desk and resting his chin in his hand.

You know what he’s asking, but you tease him anyway.

“I want to finish my work and go home for the night, so if you could just see your way out of my office, that’d be wonderful.”

Jack’s not at all deterred, a smirk falling onto his pink lips. “I meant career-wise. What would you like to do in photojournalism?”

“I want to get into the humanitarian line of work,” you shrug. “Just take photos and spread the word for causes and the like that deserve it.”

“That’s really cool,” he says sincerely, his right hand running across his ginger beard. “How much d’you have left?”

“Three semesters,” you make an effort to look back toward your computer. Your brain is starting to get foggy. You can faintly smell his cologne and his eyes are making you weak, your mind slowing every second he’s still here.

“So I’ll see you around here quite a bit then?” his hopeful tone makes you bite your lip.

“Yes,” you nod. “So one passed up dinner invitation will not be the end of you.”

“It could be,” he keeps on. “I can feel myself getting fainter as the seconds pass,” he pretends to slink back into his seat and closes his eyes. You narrow your eyes at him and end up giggling when he opens one eye to peak at your reaction to his antics.

“That’s cold,” he shakes his head and stands, offering his hand to you. “I’ll see you,” he says when you grab his hand and shake. “Soon,” he adds and with that, he leaves your office with only a single glance over his shoulder to you.

The second time you see Jack in person he’s actually waiting outside your office when you arrive. He’s sitting on the floor, legs crossed, with his phone in his hand distractedly.

“How long have you just been sat there?” You ask, pulling your keys from your pocket.

In the week since you’d last seen him your done nothing but think about him. It was both a blessing and a curse, the incessant thoughts of the blonde haired blue eyed boy.

You’d been assigned to a bit of his media coverage analysis, working to get him noticed by all the right people in the industries he thrived in. Naturally, this meant looking through his work catalog and categorizing things, looking for bookings to try and get him into, watching media coverage of him, etc. Jack was literally on your mind non-stop at work. And at home or in class? He was always there in the back of your mind.

You didn’t have to let him know that. You didn’t have to stroke his ego.

When he looks up at you now you fight hard to look indifferent, when even just the weight of his gaze makes you weak.

“I had a meeting this morning, and I know you don’t come in until later on Wednesdays, so…” he trails off as you unlock your door and step inside. As you slip off your jacket you hear him shuffling as he stands up and follows you into the small space.

“How long ago was the meeting?” You ask, quirking up an eyebrow.

“Two hours,” he mumbles and shrugs his shoulders. “Felt like longer though because I knew I’d be seeing you. Time just lagged when I needed it to fly.”

His smirk is slowly starting to appear, just a shadow gracing his face at the moment, as you turn your computer on and pull out a form you’d left to fill out when you rushed out of the office yesterday.

“Not accustomed to waiting for what you want?” You ask.

“Not when I’d already been waiting an inexplicably long week to see you again and was so close to where I knew you’d be,” the smirk deepens in his features as he sinks into the chair across the desk from you that he’d occupied last week.

You roll your eyes and feel the butterflies in your stomach. Ignore them. It’ll be fine. They’ll pass. Great. Now you’re talking to yourself.

“I know better than to ask you to dinner again and have my ego bruised when you say no,” he says now as you actually try to concentrate on the form in front of you in hopes of distracting yourself from him.

“So you’re here to tell me you’ve given up?” You briefly shoot him a puzzled look.

“I’m here to tell you I’m going to order some takeaway for lunch and then eat it right here at this very desk. And if you’re lucky, maybe I’ll order enough for you to share,” he leans back in the chair, crossing one leg over the other and looking at you, waiting for you to challenge him.

You don’t though. You just ignore him and continue to work on the form as Jack takes out his phone, typing, and scrolling intently.

Twenty minutes later, of him just sitting in relative silence as you work, he springs up from the chair suddenly.

You jump back at his sudden movement. “Shit,” you breathe.

“Food’s here,” he smiles. “I’ll be right back, love.” You watch him get up and dart out of your office toward the elevators.

You can’t help but notice that your heartbeat hasn’t slowed down even while he’s gone. He’s having an effect on you.

“How’d you know I like Thai?” You ask as he steps back into your office a few minutes later with the bag of food in hand, a smile on his face.

“I asked Jennifer,” he shrugs and starts taking cartons out of the bag and sorting them out on the desk between the two of you.

“You talked to my boss about the food I like?” You asked.

“I was here for two hours,” he says easily, pulling out chopsticks for himself. “Plus,” he pauses and hands you the other pair of chopsticks, “I wanted to impress you that’d I’d done some research. Your favorite food from your favorite shop.”

“Color me impressed,” you admit as you start to dig in on the carton of Pad Thai he’d gotten for you.

“Perhaps now you’ll grant me a proper date with you?” He asks.

“Don’t push your luck, Lowden,” your laughter fills the space around you as you shake your head and he pouts at you.

“Fancy seeing you in this particular pub on this particular night,” you hear the voice say from beside you. Your turn away from your colleague Trish, the one who’d invited you to drinks with a few other office members, and find Jack standing on your other side.

“You had something to do with his, didn’t you?” You ask, narrowing your eyes in suspicion.

It’s only three days after your last encounter. But you feel the impalpable pull again just the same. As if it’s been much longer as if your body is just trying to force you to get closer to him.

He looks good. He’s in black jeans and a black shirt with a navy blazer and black motorcycle boots. His hair is all a mess and his beard is filling in nicely. You close your eyes a moment, hoping it’s much too dark in the pub for him to notice your blush.

“I may have convinced Trish to ask you to drinks tonight, yeah,” he gives you a small smile, almost nervous.

“May have?” You ask.

“Alright, I coerced her into it,” he shrugs and picks up the glass beside his hand, taking a sip. You watch the glass raise to his mouth, trying not to stare at his lips, and watch as the amber liquid moves past his lips, watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows, watch the way he licks his lips when he takes the glass away from them.

“I wanted to see you,” his voice pulls your attention away from thoughts of his lips and musings about how soft they must be, “and I knew I couldn’t wait another week.”

“You’re quite keen on me, aren’t you?” You ask now. You’ve only had a few sips of your pint, so you’re not sure where the courage to ask this question comes from, but you’ve asked it. And now you’re waiting with bated breath to hear his response.

“You’ve been all I can think about properly for a week and a half now,” he smiles sheepishly, his eyes glancing down briefly before lifting back up to glance at you.

“So you’re stalking me?”

“Not quite,” he rolls his eyes playfully. “But, I have been thinking of ways to win you over.”

“You want to win me over?” You ask.

“Your beauty drew me in,” he says, his blue eyes watching your face intently. “But once we started talking that day I got to admire your quick wit. Plus, I liked the way you didn’t treat me any differently. And after this Wednesday I found even more that I like spending time with you. Truly,” he nods, affirming to himself. “Even when you were working and I was just sat there, and we were silent… it was nice. It was harmonious and not at all awkward.”

“It wasn’t awful, no,” you agree with him.

“And now all I can think about is pulling you close and kissing the hell out of your lips right here and now before spending the rest of the evening relentlessly teasing you just to see that wit you’ve got.”

You realize you’re holding your breath. “Shit,” you breathe out softly.

“I’ve got an option B though if that doesn’t win you over,” he adds.

“Oh.”

“It’s to just wait outside your office every day until you wane and give in and inevitably fall in love with me because I can see myself falling in love with you if you’ll let me,” he shrugs.

“You might scare away the other clients by always lurking around,” you joke.

“I’m willing to risk it,” he smiles.

“Or,” you bite your bottom lip for a second before continuing, “you could just kiss me and make option b a moot point.”

Jack’s blue eyes are alight, shining even in the dim lighting. “You don’t have to tell me twice,” he sets down his whiskey and steps up to you, one hand raising to cradle your face while his other arm snakes around your back, pulling you flush against him. Your cheeks are already flushed.

“Be prepared to be swept off your feet,” he whispers, his lips ghosting over yours, his nose butting gently against your own.

“Just kiss me you pain-in-the-arse,” you bring your arms around his neck and tug gently on the hair on the back of his head.

“Yes ma’am,” he then closes his eyes and kisses you. You’re unable to form any other thoughts but this one: fuckin’ keep him at all costs.

[haninabaninah-learning]

Musical Instruments: Adult Learning Experience

A lot of people we know who play instruments Started learning them at a very early age. Many of those who end up going to music schools learn at age 5 or 6. Mozart composed his first piece at age 5 for goodness sake! I’ve been watching TwoSet Violin and prodigies are just getting younger and younger.

I had a different experience. I started seriously learning instruments in high school.

PIANO

In my younger years, I knew how to play the really easy melodies on the piano (given that we have a piano at home and my dad and grandmother are very good pianists) - Happy Birthday song, Twinkle Twinkle Little Stars - the kind you teach 4 year olds with only one hand. Then for some reason, maybe during my first years of high school, I found myself trying to learn pieces from our electronic keyboard by following the lighted keys. I first learned Canon in D and Minuet in G. My parents were a bit shocked when they saw that I learned it from the keyboard.

***To be fair, I came from quite a musical family. As I mentioned, my grandmother and father are good pianists. My mother also knows a few classical piano pieces. My father and my brother play the guitar. My sisters sang at a choir. My dad, who is also knowledgeable in music theory, is the worship leader at our local church. Basically, nobody is tone deaf in my family. You can consider our family musical.***

From there, I started going to Youtube for song tutorials. I learned A Thousand Miles and White Houses, both by Vanessa Carlton. I learned a few other pop songs, but I don’t remember them as well as these two. I never liked reading notes, so YouTube was definitely my go-to. (Thank God for YouTube.)

I first formally took lessons (Suzuki Method) the summer before my 3rd year of high school. At first, I was intimidated because two of my classmates were very good sightreaders and they were already very good at our age. But they also became inspirations for me, that soon, I will be able to play as well as them. I loved the piano, so I practiced a lot, even at night. I finished Suzuki Book 1 upto the first 2 or 3 pieces in Book 2 that summer break. But school started again and I just didn’t go back to taking those lessons.

The more I listened to piano pieces, the more I wanted to learn and be an excellent piano player. Sadly, the excitement isn’t constant. My practice and learning jumps are often characterized by energy bursts - intense practice seasons (a few weeks) and a long hiatus (months or years). I always play on and off. But it’s always good to be reminded.

I took piano lessons in the UPCMEP after about 4 years, in the summer after my second year in uni. I was discouraged from continuing though, because my teacher was very harsh and hostile. I was totally scared of her! After graduating from uni (after about 3 years), I practiced on my own again and self-studied the rest of Suzuki Book 2 and the first few pieces of Book 3. I was fired up! I took lessons with UPCMEP again under a different teacher. She’s very kind and I love her! (Ms. Pia) Unfortunately, I had to move to Australia right after finishing the sessions. (I couldn’t even attend my own recital.) I just got back from Australia, after 2 years, and I took lessons from UPCMEP - and again under a different teacher because Ms. Pia is fully booked. She’s also a nice teacher, but I made a lot of mistakes. It felt a little bit stressful because I had other things to do, and I just felt there was a lot of homework. I think my skills weren’t at par with the expectations my teacher had. I couldn’t keep up. I was always tense during my lessons for fear of making more mistakes, which made my mind go even slower. Practice was also not fun (because of the pressure of learning many pieces/ exercises at once.) 

Now, I’m on lockdown and I can’t take the online piano lessons. I tried practicing my piece again with 0 pressure on myself, and I absolutely love it!

I might take piano lessons again, someday, when I can.

Ease of learning: 3/5

Lessons: Idk the local Teacher (Suzuki), UP College of Music Extension Program

Favorite pieces: Sonatina Op. 55 No. 2 (Kuhlau), 214 Intro (Hehe classic I love Rico Blanco)

VIOLIN

I took violin lessons during my first year of working. Aside from violin being a cool instrument that makes pop music sound grand, here is another weird reason for trying to learn violin: I liked playing melodies by ear, but I can't do it with chords. It doesn't work well on the piano, because playing single notes on it sounds very child-like. But it works on the violin. Simple tunes sound really good if you have the skill. I thought if I could get to a good level of violin skills, I could play any song I want and make it sound amazing. It would be a great addition to a band arrangement or something.

I must say - with piano it's easy to sound good as a beginner but it's hard to be an expert. With violin, however, a beginner sounds like crap. I sounded like crap (imo), most especially when I first learned with the group classes. I believe I still do.

Yes, at first I took violin lessons with a class my dad found online. I would not recommend it at all. Form and technique is very important when you are starting to learn violin, and the lack of focus on the student will be of 0 help to you. We played poor-sounding violin renditions of pop songs and Christmas songs for our recital. It's kinda sad. To be fair my classmates were all in high school and below. I was in my fourth year of uni.

After two years, I started working and I picked up the violin again (for some reason.) I started earning money and I can now (kind of) afford violin lessons. I would definitely recommend individual lessons with a teacher for violin (or I guess for learning any sort of classical instrument seriously.) I learned a lot from my teacher who was also very kind and encouraging.

Unfortunately, due to many reasons including my demands at work, my tiredness of the commute to the lesson, my innate stingyness (I still found the weekly lessons very expensive, considering my income), my spiritual issues, and my depression, it just became harder and harder for me to attend lessons. A big part of the misfortune here is that I was not being honest with my teacher about my issues, and I feel like I disrespected him along the way. :(

Someday, I would want to pick up my violin again and learn. (Or get a better quality violin, actually.) I will play that vibrato well, and enjoy beautiful songs on this instrument.

Ease of learning: 1/5

Lessons: Individual Teacher

YouTube inspo: TwoSet violin (LOL), Ray Chen, Hilary Hahn (the whole gang)

Favorite piece: I really don’t remember any of my classical pieces cause I wasn’t good enough

UKULELE

Everybody I know who plays ukulele learned it as an adult. It’s very easy to play but it’s very fun-sounding. 

I remember trying to play it many years ago when we got a cheap version, but that time, I just did not put any effort. I was a busy bee and had many other things to do. I was more 100% more interested in learning piano. On top of that, I had not yet discovered the magic of actual YouTube teachers. (I don’t know if there were uke teachers at that time already.) I basically forgot about its existence after a few weeks.

I think it was when we cleaned up that I saw our Ukulele again. At 24 years old, I was going to move to Australia - and I had to bring an instrument! I can’t bring a piano or a guitar because...how. I knew I was gonna go crazy if I can’t play music, especially if there’s nothing to do while I job-hunt. I liked singing and I really wanted to learn an instrument that could accompany my singing. I ordered a quality ukulele and moved. Being jobless in a foreign country with very little money, watching Youtube teachers and practicing was really a good way to spend my time when I’m not busy. I learned reading tabs in the process too.

I have loved the sound of fingerpicked instruments for the longest time, and I was so glad to finally be able to fingerpick songs.I am also proud of being able to “chuck”. It just adds so much dimension to the music. I still have a lot to work on (I am still horrible at strumming patterns because I suck at following beats), but I’d say I’m a fair player.

Ease of learning: 5/5

YouTube Teacher: Cynthia Lin Music

Favorite pieces - I only love fingerpicked songs lol so I love Cynthia Lin: Can’t Help Falling In Love, Here Comes The Sun, Canon in D (Pachelbel - but in key of C, lol, I haven’t finished)

CLASSICAL GUITAR

Here I am, at 26, learning classical guitar and music theory. I’ve always wanted to learn the guitar. As I mentioned, I love the sound of fingerpicked instruments. I love the sound of acoustic covers and the plucked strings. It’s so relaxing and calm.

I tried learning the guitar as a high school student, but I was overcome by my annoyance of the pain on my fingertips when I press on the strings. I was also bad at strumming patterns. (I suck at rhythm.) On top of that, I gave myself an excuse of not being able to reach most chords due to my small hands. I learned the easy chords and strumming, but it really is far from good enough.

Learning the ukulele gave me courage to start learning the guitar again. I really did want to be good at it. Luckily, as I applied for piano lessons, I figured it would be a waste to travel for 2 hours a day only for a 1-hour lesson. I thought it would be a good idea to take guitar lessons as well.

I initially just wanted ordinary guitar lessons, just so I can be forced to learn guitar for my pop songs. Apparently, they mostly (or only) teach classical guitar in UP (kind of obvious though). What a beautiful genre, though. This is my kind of music! I’m also very grateful for my kind and fun teacher- Sir Peter. He’s very encouraging!

Perhaps one of the factors of the success was also the implementation of online classes. It’s not so tiring to attend lessons because of the travel (unlike when I was learning violin). I love classical guitar now, and I’m continuing my lessons. I barely practiced and prepared for my classes before lockdown, but now I really enjoy each practice time I have. More on this on another blog post!

Ease of learning: 3/5

Lessons: UP College of Music Extension Program (Now online lessons)

YouTube additional learning: Brandon Acker, This is Classical Guitar

Favorite piece - (well I’m only starting so I have a very limited list) Andantino in G by Carulli, but I would like to learn Air on G String someday

MUSIC THEORY

I’ve also started to learn Music Theory (albeit still with little effort) during lockdown. From Youtube (of course). I barely finish any song I write. And I love arranging music, but I’m not very good at it. I figure Music Theory will help me a lot in this area.