#like sorry to my professors but I will be analyzing every interaction of these two old men instead of doing my actual research

[sad-emo-dip-dye]

Im supposed to be defending a thesis rn and im stuck thinking about this damn old man yaoi

#when will I be free #like sorry to my professors but I will be analyzing every interaction of these two old men instead of doing my actual research #bsd #bungo stray dogs #bsd fukufuku #bsd fukuzawa #bsd fukuchi

[risingoftime]

WE NEED RIRI WILLIAMS X FEM READER SMUT!! RIRI IS DADDY HONESTY

𝕭𝖊𝖆𝖚𝖙𝖞 & 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕭𝖗𝖆𝖎𝖓 | 𝖗𝖎𝖗𝖎 𝖔 𝖋𝖊𝖒!𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗

part i | part ii

thank you anon for this request ✧˚ · so sorry for the wait!

synopsis: Riri has always been one step ahead of you. She is always at the top of her class, and you are not too far behind. Each time you think you got something, she’s right there. You’ve finally had enough of the competition and decide to confront her.

word count: 1.8k

warnings: smut, semi public sex, fingering, oral sex, face riding, sub!reader, dom!Riri, light dom sub, swearing, biting, orgasm denial/control.

18+ | minors do not interact

➴ feel free to send me more thots

I glared toward Riri across the library. But, of course, you both were one of the select few who stayed late on campus to study for exams. I tried my hardest to look over the assigned formulas and equations, but her presence was enough to keep me on my toes. Riri’s cornrows were neatly braided and twisted into a low bun, and her baby hair laid on her forehead as she analyzed her textbook. How pathetic can I be? In a secret competition with a person who rarely gives me a second glance. The only time anyone has gotten her attention is if they book her academic services. I’m sure that at this point, I’m the only one in our class who doesn’t have her number saved. But our names have always been next to each other—Hers above and mine below. I wish I knew how she did it. According to MIT gossip, Princess Shuri has even visited her dorms. How the fuck did she manage that?

I didn’t recognize how long I was staring until Riri raised her head for her eyes to meet mine. My heart almost beat out of my chest. Crap, she saw me staring. I quickly averted my eyes to review my messy notes and highlighted textbook. Underactuated robotics has never been my strong suit, and I must study ten times harder to secure my GPA. Although I knew this, I was itching to steal another glance in Riri’s direction. At this point, I’d have to leave and study back at my apartment. I gathered my belongings and placed them in my backpack.

“I hope you’re not leaving because of me.”

There she was, standing in all of her glory. Riri wore her nefarious smirk as she looked down at me. This is the first time she’s spoken to me, and Riri assumes she could intimidate me. I rolled my eyes and reached for my packed tote bag.

“Please, you think that you can make me leave? You’re so full of yourself,” I sighed.

“Well, you have been shooting daggers in my direction since I got here,” Riri said.

Fuck, so she did notice me staring. Riri continuously operated like she never cared for those who shared her surroundings. She is always in and out, only talking with her close friends and customers. Meanwhile, she might as well pay rent in my head for how long she stays in my mind.

“I’ve got a lot on my mind, exams begin tomorrow, and I don’t have time for meaningless conversations,” I stated.

I gestured for her to move out of my way. I couldn’t stand being so close to her for long. If I did, she would notice I was not as calm and collected as I presented myself.

“Hold on, no need to be in such a hurry. You’re in my robotics class. With Professor Winston?” She held my wrist, keeping me in place. I leaned against the desk, a feeble attempt to create space between us.

“Yeah, every Tuesday,” I grumbled.

Riri quietly nodded to herself, “Well, if you’re not too busy, maybe we could compare notes? We’re always the top two in class. It’s not common for me to find someone who could keep up” Riri let out a small laugh, but I didn’t find it funny. Keep up. If only she knew how competitive I indeed could be.

“Yeah, sure, you could let go of my wrist now. I’m not going to run away.”

Riri slowly removed her hand from my wrist to pack her things. She led me toward the private study rooms and opened one for us to enter. We both placed our textbooks and notes on the table, sitting beside each other. Riri explained her study methods and reviewed the nonlinear dynamics of robotic manipulations and motion planning with me. Riri made everything sound so simple and easy to comprehend. The way her brain navigated equations and theories left me speechless.

“It’s getting late. I think we should get going before the library closes,” I said. Truthfully, I didn’t want to leave; I wanted to spend more time learning from Riri. But if I didn’t get going now, I would pay for it later when I got up in the morning for our exam.

“Okay, so what’s your form of payment?” she replied.

“Payment?” I almost yelled at her audacity.

“You didn’t think I just offered my services for free, did you?”

“You never mentioned that I would have to give you something in exchange, and I don’t have any cash. Do you accept other forms of payment? I could always repay the favour.”

“I have something else in mind.” Riri places her hands on my bare thighs, toying with the ends of my mini skirt. My breath hitched at the warmth of her presence. I am paralyzed by the realization that Riri wants her to pay with her body. But why?

“I’ve always wanted to do this from the moment you walked in at the beginning of the semester. You’re the last person I would’ve thought to keep me on my toes. Walking around in these mini skirts, crop tops, and revealing clothing. I’ve wondered how you would,” Riri confessed.

Her calloused fingers went further up my thighs until they disappeared under my skirt, almost brushing against the fabric of my panties. Riri’s eyes met mine, seeking permission to continue. She hadn’t even begun, and I already felt lost for words.

“What do you want me to say?” I asked.

“Tell me you don’t want me to go on, and I won’t, but I won’t forget that you owe me a favour,” she said. Truthfully, I didn’t want her to stop. This is the most attention I’ve received from Riri, and I enjoyed every second. I tentatively shook my head before replying.

“I don’t want you to stop.”

Riri swivelled my chair to face her and used both hands to pull me to the end of my chair. My legs were slightly parted when Riri slid my panties off, pooling at my ankles. She didn’t break eye contact when she traced her finger along my pussy.

“Now be a good girl for me and spread your legs,” she demanded. I nodded and obeyed, giving Riri full access to do as she pleased. I kept my bottom lip tucked between my teeth to silence my gasp as she pushed two fingers inside me. Closing my eyes so I could focus on the feeling of her inside me. I rocked my hips back and forth, matching my pace with Riri.

Riri brushed her lips against mine and whispered, “open your eyes. I want you to watch me fucking you.” I was weak to her commands. A knowing smile appeared across Riri’s face, and her eyes shined mischievously. I watched as she lowered her head to lick and suck my inner thighs. Leaving a kiss on my clit before softly flicking her tongue against the sensitive bud.

“Riri, please,” I moaned.

She hummed against my pussy in response, and her fingers beckoned me forward as each thrust became more profound. Riri’s other hand gripped my waist to grind me against her face. My body moved into a fluid rhythm as Riri guided my movements while she fucked me. My eyes rolled back, and my legs began shaking from the sensation. I inhaled sharply before letting out a slight whine. Riri removed her fingers from me and pulled away.

“Baby, you have to stay quiet, or we’re going to get caught”

“I don't care,” I groaned. At this moment, all that mattered was her and I. I craved her presence and the return of her mouth against my skin. I positioned my pussy closer to her face so she could continue, but she didn’t move from her stance, waiting for me to meet her eyes.

“If you make another sound, I will stop, and you won’t cum” she challenged. Her tone was low and aggressive. I shivered at her response and the thought of Riri having such control over my body. I rolled my lips into a firm line. This wasn’t the time to test her. She took my silence as a yes, praising me softly before roughly inserting her fingers in my entrance. Wet noises filled the study room each time she pulled in and out. Riri was no longer gentle, creating endless friction and sending waves of bliss through my body. Each time I got close to cumming, she slowed to make me last longer. It was torturous.

Riri’s tongue traced circles on my inner thighs, teasing me. She wanted to make me squirm, but I refused to give in. When I didn’t let out even a sigh, her lips rubbed against my folds, covering herself with my juices. I felt myself dripping in anticipation. Riri extended her tongue to part my folds, tasting the liquid running down. My walls clenched around her hand. I am frantic with desire and need, fucking her face and fingers on the edge of my seat. She slipped in and out of my pussy with ease.

I felt myself become light-headed and my vision hazy. I was drowning in lust. Riri made me feel intoxicated. Sparks ignited within me, and I knew I was close. Just as she was about to slow down again, losing rhythm as my climax approached. I growled in protest. Before I could register what I had just done, Riri pulled away to stand up.

“get yourself together and put your panties on,” she said.

Riri grabbed my chin, tilting my head up to kiss me. I could taste myself on her lips and the sinful actions that left me out of breath. She seemed reluctant to pull away, as if she were in a daze.

“I don’t think we’re done yet,” I replied.

“oh, I believe we are babe,” Riri claimed.

I shot a glare toward her while I made myself presentable and cleaned the mess we made. The study room looked as if nothing had happened once I was done. After observing my work, I caught Riri staring at me with a grin.

“can I help you?” I playfully asked.

“No, but you can tomorrow after our exams. You were right; I don’t think we are done just yet. I hope you remember all that I taught you,” she winked.

I couldn’t reply before she turned around to leave the room. Fuck I forgot about our exam. All my mind could remember was Riri kneeling before me, her demands still clear.

#riri black panther #riri williams #riri x reader #mcu black panther #black panther #wakanda forever #riri williams smut #smut #mcu riri #mcu riri williams #iron heart #ironheart #mcu universe #mcu #riri x fem reader #request #mcu risingoftime #riri williams fic #ironheart x reader #x black fem reader #riri x black!reader #x black reader #time creation #⟢CREATION OF TIME #⟢REQUEST

[harrysweasleys]

not so secret admirer // d.m

Summary: Can you write a Draco x reader where she's on top of the class and really sassy and fun, and Draco is lowkey kinda scared or intimidated by her? and Blaise likes to flirt with her and mess around just to make him jealous? thank u!

Warnings: none? hella soft Draco? also not totally proof-read

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: ah! this took way longer than i thought. but it’s here! enjoy! gif isn’t mine. :)

-

Draco watched with gritted teeth as Blaise approached you, a smirk on his face and his hands shoved in his pocket, confidence radiating off of him in waves.

“So, Y/N,” Blaise slid into the seat next to you, leaning back on the chair with his arms crossed across his chest. Draco glared holes into the back of his friend’s head, hating the stupid frustration he was feeling upon watching you two interact.

“Hi, Blaise,” you smiled over at the boy next to you, oblivious to the glare you two were receiving from the platinum headed boy across the class.

“Well, you changed up your hair over the Christmas break,” Blaise’s voice was smooth as he complimented you, “I like it.”

Draco wanted to snap his quill in half as he watched the blush rise to your cheeks, the shy smile you gave Blaise as you said ‘thanks, Zabini’ made him turn away and face the people sitting around him. He had also noticed you cut your hair during the break, but hardly found the moment to mention that he liked it too.

“Chill, Malfoy,” Pansy chewed loudly on a piece of gum as she twirled her hair, “Blaise doesn’t settle for just one girl, he’ll leave Y/N alone.”

It was no secret Draco harboured feelings for you. He had spoken to you a few times, and each time, you had intimidated him more than the last..

Draco Malfoy? Intimidated?

He found it hard to believe too. But your quick wit and knowledgeable sense had him double thinking his own personality. The last thing he wanted was to come off too strong or to push you away like he did with most people. You always found a way to top the class without even trying, it was admirable, really.

“I don’t care if Zabini wants to chase her,” Draco tried to play it off cool, “He’s at perfect liberty to go after whoever he wants, is he not?”

Pansy rolled her eyes at him, turning back to face the front of the class.

As Professor Snape stalked into the class, dark robes billowing behind him, Blaise rushed from his seat next to you back into the one next to Draco.

“Didn’t want to sit with your girlfriend?” Draco couldn’t help himself from making a snarky comment, despite the fact that the last thing he wanted was to show he was irritated.

Blaise grinned knowingly, “Y/N? Nah, not my girlfriend. Not my type.”

“You sure about that?” Draco spoke back through gritted teeth, “You complimented her.”

Blaise’s amused expression never faltered, “You were listening in, huh? Come on, you’ve been pining after her for like a year now. Just grow a pair and talk to her. As humans.”

“As humans?” Draco repeated, rolling his eyes in annoyance, “That’s so helpful.”

Shrugging, Blaise leaned closer so Professor Snape didn’t pick up on their private conversation, “Compliment her too. Tell her you like her brain or something. Girls like that — means you notice more than just their looks.”

Shaking his head, Draco didn’t think this was the way to go. How was he supposed to do that? Just walk up to you and say he thought you were smart? He’d look like an idiot.

“Yeah, that’s still useless, Zabini,” Draco leaned away from him, signalling the conversation had come to an end. He found it hard to pay attention to the remainder of the lesson, too busy focusing on the way your tongue would stick out in concentration, and even the way you’d tuck your hair behind your ear when trying to scribble down notes. He found you quite possibly the cutest thing he had ever seen.

“You coming, Malfoy?”

“I—Huh?” Draco’s eyes snapped over to Blaise, who was now standing, packing his books in his bag. He had been too busy thinking about you to realize class was over.

He peered back to your seat and noticed you talking to another Slytherin girl — he didn’t bother rememebring her name — but he didn’t really care at the moment.

“Yeah, coming,” he replied, tearing his eyes away from you and facing his group. He began to walk out of the class, but stopped in his steps when he heard the sound of objects clattering to the floor behind him.

He peered around, noticing you standing near your desk with a pout on your face.

“Damn it, just what I needed,” you leaned over, picking a bunch of books off the floor. Draco noticed your bag, which now had a huge rip on the bottom of it, discarded to the side. Your books, along with your ink, parchment and quill, were all over the floor.

Draco glanced around. Blaise, Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle were out of sight, and the girl you had just been speaking to was in a conversation with Snape. So, he plucked up his courage and walked over to you.

“Need a hand?” he asked, leaning down to meet your eye level.

Your eyes shot up, a pink tinge to your cheeks as you rushed to pick everything up, “Yeah, thanks. I’ve needed a new bag for a while, guess this is the push I’ve been waiting for.”

He picked up three large textbooks, noticing immediately how heavy they were. And they weren’t even for any of your classes, he could tell they were from the library.

“Did you get these just for casual reading?” he analyzed the front page of the first book, which was titled How The Goblin Rebellion Shaped Wizard-Goblin Relations. He remembered studying the Goblin Rebellion years back, this couldn’t be for a class you were currently taking.

“Oh — yeah,” you grinned sheepishly, finally collecting everything and clutching it all tightly in your arms, “I know it’s weird, but I read that before bed. I guess it’s better than the last book I read which was about dragon enslavement. Not so cheerful.”

“And the Goblin Rebellion was?” he smirked, standing up and holding the books in his arms.

“No, but it had good outcomes,” you replied, standing up as well, “Nothing good came from keeping dragons in cages.”

Draco nodded, admiring the way you absorbed every bit of knowledge you could find. He found it rather annoying when Hermione Granger did it, but when it was you, even he had to admit it was endearing.

“I guess you’re right about that,” he nodded, “Do you want help bringing these back to your dorm?”

He nearly missed the way your lips curved up into a smirk, “Oh, am I about to be blessed with the opportunity of having the Draco Malfoy assist me back to my room?”

Draco’s eyes widened. He didn’t know how to respond to that.

“Oh—I—,”

“I’m kidding,” you tossed your head back, laughing at his dumbfounds expression, “I could use the help, thanks for offering.” You shot a wink his way and started making your way out of the class, leaving Draco still rooted in his spot.

Of course, you found a way of leaving him speechless again.

He fought back a grin and rushed to catch up with you, nearly tripping over his own robe.

“I like the rain,” you said softly once he caught up with you, “It’s calming. Cozy.”

He turned around to face the dark skies, the heavy rain pouring down making it almost difficult for him to hear you properly. He turned to face you, struggling to find the proper words to say.

“I prefer snow.”

You raised an eyebrow, turning your head to face him as the two of you continued down the long corridors, “Snow? I took you more for a raging thunderstorms kind of guy.”

He let out a small laugh, surprised by what you thought of him, “Why’s that?”

“Dunno,” you shrugged, “But I’ve always said you could tell a lot about a person based on their favorite weather.”

Draco looked over at you, fighting back another grin at the way you spoke so openly. You seemed to not care what anyone said about you, and he adored that.

“And what does snow mean? What can you figure out about me?” he wanted to know the answer but didn’t want to seem too eager.

“Well,” you grinned at him, turning back to face forwards, “You’re closed off. You like peace, being alone. You’re not a confrontational type, but you do like to knock people down a peg when given the chance.”

He blinked at you, hating how spot on that description was. Had you really figured all that out just by him saying he liked snow? Really, he liked that you could read him. Most people had no idea what was going on inside his head, and usually he’d love that, but he wanted to be less closed off around you. When given the chance, he found himself being honest around you more than he ever had been with anyone else — his family included.

“That’s... you’re spot on, actually,” he raised his eyebrows, “Colour me impressed.”

You smiled at him, “Oh, I know.”

He smiled back down at you, resisting the urge to blurt out beautiful he thought you were. And you really, really were.

The remainder of the walk was silent. Comfortable, but silent. Draco couldn’t figure out what he wanted to say to you. He loved the sound of your voice, and how into every conversation you got, but he couldn’t find a decent topic to strike up a chat about.

Walking into the common room, Draco glanced over and noticed Blaise, Pansy, Crabbe an Goyle huddled around the fire, all of them pointing at him.

“There you are!” Pansy screeched, sitting up abruptly, “You disappeared!”

Draco fought back a flush, noticing how both of you had stopped in your tracks and your body was close enough to his that he could smell your flowery perfume. It was probably his new favorite smell.

“What — oh, sorry,” he blurted out, ignoring how Pansy’s face broke out into a wide smirk, “I was helping Y/N carry her books back.”

“Yeah, my bag broke, Draco was being a dear,” you nudged him in the side with your elbow, grinning over at the group on the couch, “Don’t let me steal him from you for too long. Once I put these away, he’s all yours.”

“Doubt that,” Pansy mumbled under her breath. Draco shot her a glare, but luckily, you hadn’t heard. You were already walking up to your dormitory, humming a tune that Draco didn’t know. He followed hot on your tail, missing the knowing look that was shared between Blaise and Pansy.

“Just drop them on the bed,” you said once he had entered your room, “I’ll organize them later.”

“Sure thing,” he dropped the books down, glancing around the room. The beds surrounding yours were rather messy, but yours was as organized as could be. Your pillow was fluffed, sheets tucked in tightly, and even your nightstand had everything placed neatly.

“You taking a mental picture of my bedroom, Malfoy?” your voice snapped him out of his trance and he looked over at you, once again, not knowing what to say. You laughed, tossing your head back and poking him in the shoulder.

“Kidding. You should see your face,” your laughter was infectious, Draco found himself chuckling with you, “Now let’s head down.”

Still chuckling, he followed after you and back into the common room. As Draco approached the couch, sitting as far away from a smirking Pansy as he could, you leaned over to talk to him.

“I’ve gotta go meet a friend but I’ll see you around.”

Draco felt he shouldn’t be disappointed after spending a bit of time alone with you, but he was, “No worries.”

You were about to exit the room when Blaise called out, “Oi, gorgeous!”

You spun around on the spot, eyebrow raised and cheeks slightly pink. Draco bit his cheek, silencing himself from saying anything to Blaise.

“Yes?” you placed your hands on your hips.

“Just wanna say you look good,” Blaise shrugged, leaning back into his chair and glancing between Draco and you. Draco knew what he was up to, but he didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of winning, so he continued to sit silently.

“Right,” you laughed, continuing to leave the room, “You’re gorgeous too, Zabini. Catch ya later.”

As your figure disappeared, Draco whipped his head around to stare Blaise down, “Stop coming onto her, it’s pathetic.”

“No,” Blaise raised a finger, “What’s pathetic is the fact that you’re still sitting here stewing in your own love for her and she’s off with no idea.”

Draco opened his mouth to retaliate, but realized that he was right. He knew Blaise didn’t fancy you that way, but hearing him flirt so openly still got his blood boiling. He hated the fact that he was too intimated by you to make a move. You were the only person who had ever caught his eye and he was too much of a coward to do something about it.

“You’re quiet because you know I’m right, right?” Blaise wiggled his eyebrows, “Right?”

“Shut up,” Draco snapped, turning to look out to the water outside the window, his face hard. He wasn’t angry at his friends, but at himself.

He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but of course Blaise was right.

— —

The sun was shining down brightly through the Great Hall windows, signalling the start of the next day. Breakfast was spread across the four House tables and students chatted happily. Draco sat quietly between Goyle and Pansy, who were both too preoccupied stuffing their faces to strike up conversation. Which Draco wasn’t complaining about, he wasn’t in a chatty mood.

The afternoon’s Quidditch match between Slytherin and Hufflepuff had been on Draco’s mind for a while. He had always been slightly nervous before each match — not that he’d ever admit that to anyone, of course.

“Not gonna eat?” Blaise uttered through a mouthful of toast, motioning towards Draco’s empty plate.

Draco shook his head, “Nope.”

Though he was staring out of the large window, eyeing the pleasant weather and clear conditions, he caught sight of you from the corner of his eye.

Trying not to give away that he was staring, he quickly glanced at you before returning to where he was previously staring. Though already nervous, his heart did a little flip in his chest.

You were wearing an emerald green sweater that said ‘Slytherin Quidditch’ on the front, a sign you were bound to come to the game today. You usually did, but he wanted to be sure. Still out of the corner of his eye, he could see you take a seat further up the table with another girl, the two of you emerging into conversation right away.

Draco fought the urge to glance over again, deciding that he’d be too obvious with Blaise and Pansy gazing at him every few seconds.

“Nervous?” Pansy asked upon watching Draco’s leg bounce up and down.

“No,” he replied rather quickly, “Excited. I don’t get nevous.”

She seemed to question him, but didn’t pester him any further. Blaise, on the other hand, seemed to not want to drop the subject.

“So, should we make today’s game more interesting?” he placed his elbows on the table and rested his head in his hands, wiggling his eyebrows.

Draco squinted at him, not sure what he was getting at, “Quidditch is always interesting.”

“Fair point,” Blaise shrugged, “But I have a proposition.”

“How so?”

Blaise leaned back, taking his elbows off the table and motioning his head in your direction, “Well, if we win, you ‘fess up.”

Draco’s eyes widened slightly and his breath faltered. Of course, Blaise was going to force him into telling you his feelings.

“That’s stupid,” Draco scoffed, trying not to think about what would happen if he did confess to you. You could end up liking him back and the two of you could go off and be happy together. Or, you could shut him down and ruin whatever friendship you two had. The latter seemed like too much of a risk.

“No, it’s not,” Blaise’s lips curled up into a smirk, “You’re gonna have to tell her at some point. Why not do it after you’ve won?”

Draco scowled, hating the fact that Blaise did indeed have a point. He glanced over at you, your face broken out into a smile and your hair falling loosely around your face. You looked radiant, and if he didn’t confess to you, he was sure someone else would snatch you up in a heartbeat. The mere thought of you with someone else was enough to send Draco’s heart into slight turmoil.

“Fine,” he stuck his hand out, ready to shake Blaise’s, “But then if we lose, you confess to Daphne.”

Blaise’s prideful expression faltered, “Caught me there. Alright, deal.”

“Deal.”

— —

Draco nearly forgot practice was starting early today, so as tumbled around his room getting ready for the match, he scolded himself for losing track of him.

Once his Quidditch equipment was on and he picked up his broom, he bolted towards the door and down the stairs.

“Woah, slow your roll there, cowboy,” your voice caught Draco off guard and he spun around on the spot, looking at where you were pressed up against the wall to avoid him crashing into you.

“Sorry,” he muttered, his chest feeling tingly as you beamed up at him.

“You forget there was a game or what?”

He shook his head, scanning you quickly. You were still wearing your Quidditch sweater but your hair was now tied back and out of your face and you had your House scarf tied neatly around your neck.

“Well,” you poked him in the chest where his number was situated, “Good luck out there, Draco. I’ll be cheering you on. Hope you win!”

And with that, you were up the stairs and out of view.

“Yeah, me too,” he mumbled quietly, shaking his head once he realized he was even later than before, and took off out of the common room and down to the Quidditch pitch.

When the game started, the sun was gone. The sky had become darker and a cool breeze swept though the pitch. Students huddled together in the stands, wrapped up under blankets and using each other’s sweaters for warmth.

As Draco flew around on his broom, keeping a watchful eye out of the Snitch, he glanced over to where you were sitting, his insides raging in nerves. You were huddled up next to Daphne Greengrass, the two of you wearing matching sweaters and watching the game intently, cheering every time Slytherin scored.

He also noticed how you’d glance up to him every now and then, sending him a smile or a thumbs up. It didn’t really help the anxious feeling in his chest, but it did give him a boost of confidence.

Almost too distracted by the thought of asking you out, he kept having to shake his head to clear his thoughts. It was driving him mad.

And that’s when he spotted it. A tiny golden flutter next to one of the Hufflepuff goal posts. Without missing a beat, Draco took off at full speed, not even bothering to check where the Hufflepuff Seeker was. He didn’t really care.

He got closer and closer and finally, felt the cool metallic feeling of the Snitch between his fingers. His heart did a summersault.

He raised his hand in the air, causing the entire Slytherin section to burst out into loud cheers. His eyes found you, standing up on your feet and clapping loudly. A burst of pride erupted in him, and with confidence, took off on his broom towards your section.

He hadn’t really thought this through, but as he approached where you were seated, he felt as if acting on impulse was going to be better for him anyways.

He stopped his flying, hopping off his broom and into the stands. His eyes were locked on yours, who were staring right back at him with both excitement and confusion. He started walking towards you, ignoring his teammates calling out to him and the stares he was getting from the fellow Slytherins surrounding the two of you.

Once he reached you, he sent you a shy smile, which you immediately returned. Your cheeks were dusted with pink, whether from the cold air or the proximity, he didn’t know.

“Nice catch,” you said quietly, motioning to his hand which was still holding onto the Snitch.

“Thanks,” he replied lamely and breathlessly, “I need to tell you something.”

You cocked an eyebrow af him and he took it as a sign to continue. He wasn’t sure how to say it apart from just being blunt and upfront.

“I like you. A lot.”

He watched your expression change from confusion, to shock, to happy. Your face broke into a massive grin and you stepped closer to him, almost making the space between you two non-existent.

“I know.”

Draco’s eyes widened, “You know?”

You giggled slightly, “Of course. You don’t hide it well.”

Embrassed, Draco began wishing he hadn’t done this in front of such a large crowd. He had confessed his feelings to you, and all you had said back was that you knew about them all along. Did this mean you felt the same? Did it mean you didn’t say anything about them because you didn’t want anything to happen between you two?

“I can see you overthinking,” you brought him back to reality, placing your arms around his neck, shivers rushing down his spine at the contact, “I like you too, you know.”

“Y-You do?” he failed to hide his shock, nearly dropping the Snitch as his hands instinctively wrapped around your waist.

You nodded, “Yep. You’re cute and all, found myself falling for you like a year ago.”

He couldn’t fight the grin that formed on his face at your words, relief spreading through him like a wave. He couldn’t even begin to express how much joy that had brought him, worried that telling you might make you realize how crazy he was about you.

“I have never been more relieved,” he breathed out, resting his forehead against yours, loving the contact, “I was so worried you didn’t feel the same way.”

You chuckled, beginning to run your hands through his messy hair, “Well, tell the worry to go away because I do. Now, are you going to kiss me or what?”

He didn’t even hesitate, “Gladly.”

And leaning down, finally connected his lips to yours.

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy imagines #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy fanfics #draco malfoy one shots #draco malfoy one shot #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy reader insert

[fagundescamila]

Power Couple #5 (Severus Snape x Reader)

Okay, this got a little longer than I intended... Sorry about that 😅

Also, english is not my native language and I'm positive there's going to be a lot of mistakes on this chapter, so please be kind

Tagsss: @lizlil @misselsbells06

Y/N took the morning to organize everything at work before using the floo network to get to Hogwarts. Arriving at Dumbledore's office, she was immediately greeted by the old man and his mischievous smirk.

"Hello, dear!" He said offering her a hand out of the fireplace.

"Hello!" She smiled at him and took a look at the room. "It's nice to be back at Hogwarts."

"It's been a while, ahn?" She nodded in response, still looking at the room, amazed by how that school still felt like home even after all those years. “Come with me, people are waiting for you at the Great Hall for lunch before the dueling club starts.” 

"Good! Let’s go.” She smiled at him again and followed him through the corridors of the castle she knew so well. 

They reached the Great Hall and Y/N had to fight the urge to go straight to the Slytherin table, as she would on her school days. Instead, she continued to follow Dumbledore until they got to the Head Table. 

“Okay, this is new!” She laughed taking the seat that was vacant, apparently just waiting for her. It was between Snape and Lupin. 

"Sitting at the Teacher's Table?" Remus asked with a smile. 

"Yeah! This side of the Great Hall is quite intimidating…" 

"You get used to it eventually." He reassured her.  

"Well, let's hope so!" 

"Ready for the little show later on?" 

"Absolutely!" She said excitedly and turned to Severus right after that. "What about you, Severus? Ready?" 

Severus looked up from his plate just to see her smiling brightly at him. He couldn't exactly figure her out, and it annoyed him. How she always seemed so nice and kind to everyone... Even to him. No one was ever like that. Or at least, they would stop being so friendly after a few interactions with him. But not Y/N. She was just as sweet to him as she was on that day they first talked to each other. And, besides his confusion, he couldn't stop the little smirk that appeared on his face as he looked at her.

"I believe so, yes." Was his answer.

"Awesome!" Y/N gave him a little wink before turning her attention back to the food at the table. 

Third and fifth years were gathered at the Great Hall which was free of the usual four tables and had only a dueling platform on its center. There was the class that Remus would be teaching at the current period - the third year - and, since he asked Severus to participate, his students for the period - the fifth years - were glad to skip potion's class to join the dueling club. 

Remus had just explained the purpose of the club, reassuring the kids that although formal dueling was a sport, they could all learn a lot if they paid close attention. Then he asked Y/N to join him on the platform and introduce herself for the class. 

"Ok!" She happily hopped up the platform and gave the students a small wave. "Hello, everyone!" They all greeted her back. "I met a few of you already, but for those who don't know me yet, my name is Y/N Y/L/N, and I'm an auror. Remus… I mean, Professor Lupin, of course..." She chuckled at her lack of professionalism. "He asked me to come and show you guys some techniques and useful practices at formal dueling. Of course most of my job does not include such formalities, but, as he was telling you before, there are a lot of things which we can learn from formal dueling and apply to real life, so… let's hope you guys enjoy it." 

"Perfect!" Remus smiled at her widely and was satisfied with the way the students seemed to be catched by her. "Now as you all can see, Professor Snape has kindly agreed to participate on our class today and will be dueling against Y/N. Therefore, I'm joining you guys in watching the show and we can discuss your practice later." Lupin got off the platform and Snape took his place. "Whenever you're ready." He said, already among the students.

Y/N and Snape nodded shortly, signalizing that they were ready. They walked towards each other, presented their wands and bowed, as the formalities required. When they raised their heads again, Snape could see Y/N's smirk before they walked back to their ends at the platform and positioned themselves. Snape in his defense position, wand on the right hand above his head and the other hand in front of him, and Y/N in an attack position, the wand on her hand almost looked like a sword and the other hand was at her back. For a second or two, they didn't move, and then Y/N took one swift step forward and casted the first spell, which Snape easily blocked.

After seeing how he reacted - Y/N knew he would block her, but was actually impressed by his movements -, she knew what she had to do. There was this whole strategy already set on her mind.

Y/N attacked swiftly with three other spells and with each, she took another step forward. Snape blocked them all before casting his own attack, which Y/N blocked right away. She had this huge smile on her face and that (Severus would never admit) was a bit distracting. They moved in a synchronized way and Severus had a feeling that she could precisely predict all of his moves. On his second attempt of attack, Y/N was quick to use a counterspell and even quicker to use a disarming charm before he could recompose himself.

His wand was thrown from his hand before he could realise what happened. 

"Accio." She said and his wand was in her hand before it could hit the floor. She bowed at him again without ever losing that smile and handed him his wand. "It was great, Severus! You're quite an opponent!" He was absolutely taken aback. Damn, she was good! He took his wand from her hand with a smirk and bowed in return. The students were clapping, but it was safe to say Snape didn't realise it before Y/N turned to thank them.

"Excellent! That was amazing, thank you both!" Remus said excitedly as he hopped up the platform. 

"It was a pleasure!" Y/N said with a kind smile, putting her wand back in her pocket. "I see you guys enjoyed it, so I assume you have all paid attention to our demonstration." She said to the students. "Then, before you all get a chance to practice, let's discuss some things about it. Do you have any questions?" At that, several hands were raised. "Alright!" She smiled. "Hermione, right?" The girl nodded. Y/N had seen her at the Weasley's once or twice. "Go on."

"How were you so confident about winning?" 

"Confident about winning?" Y/N laughed. "I wasn't! Not at all. As a matter of fact, it was quite the opposite. I was positive I was gonna lose." She looked at Severus with a smile before continuing. "But I see why you would think that and it's an interesting point. You see, I was just ok with the fact that I was going to lose. And that's your first tip, right there. Either if it is a formal duel or an actual fight, always assume your opponent is better than you." 

"How could that rubbish possibly be a good thing?" The Malfoy boy asked. Y/N wasn't surprised by his behaviour - she knew his father from the Ministry and assumed rudeness was just a gene -, but Severus reprimanded him nonetheless.

"Watch it, Malfoy." He said in that intimidating tone he had reserved for misbehaving students. Of course, usually he would never use it against his slytherins, so that surprised all of the students. Remus was also a bit surprised.

"That's ok, Severus, thanks…" Y/N said smiling at him again. "Well, you see, Draco, your ultimate goal when you fight someone is to survive. Of course, here we're talking about a sport, but in real life, you fight with that sole purpose. When you assume your opponent has the advantage, you pay extra attention to their moves and buy enough time to build surviving strategies."

"Did you have a strategy to fight Professor Snape?" Ron asked. 

"Yeah, you could say so…" Y/N smiled.

"What was it?"

"Well, when we got to our spots, I observed he assumed a defensive position." She explained. "So, applying that rule we were just talking about, assuming he was better than me, I had to be prepared for the fact that he was gonna be able to block everyone of my attacks. And therefore, I started to build a strategy to try to break his defenses." At that point, Severus was also paying attention to her explanation. "My first move was just a test, I casted an attacking spell as fast as I could to analyze his reaction. And, just as I thought it would be, he was perfect. Blocked my spell right on time." She chuckled lightly. Severus had to fight the urge to smile.

"Then what was the strategy? How did you deal with the fact that he was probably  going to block every spell you used?" Remus asked, just to instigate the class even further. 

"Well, now we got to the good stuff!" Y/N said excitedly. "That's what I always teach at my trainings: fighting is a matter of rhythm. You have to find your opponent's pace. Once you do it, you can find their blind spots and use that timing in you advantage." 

 "So that's why you used other three consecutive attacks right after Professor Snape blocked your first one." Hermione stated. 

"Precisely, yes!" Y/N answered, making the girl smile. 

"But how do you find that said pace?" Harry asked. 

"Oh, easy. Body language." Y/N said shrugging. "You just have to observe your opponent well."

"Does that mean you checked Professor Snape out?" Fred asked. Or maybe it was George. Either way, Severus was ready to take some points from Gryffindor. 

"Oh yeah, totally!" Y/N was quick to answer, not a slight bit embarrassed by it. She chuckled right after that and the students joined her in a light laughter. "Okay, enough with that chatting…" She said still smiling. "Let's practice a bit, shall we?" 

As the students fussed around the platform, getting ready to their own dueling rounds, Y/N turned to Severus and winked at him. She always did that and he always had to fight a blush. He was about to say something, but a student called her over before he could even form a sentence inside his head. He just watched as Y/N helped the students and demonstrated a few more moves for the rest of the class.

Remus paid close attention to that and smiled at the scene. Severus seemed absolutely hypnotized.  

#severus snape #severus snape imagine #snape #snape imagine #snape x reader #severus snape x reader #severus #severus x reader #snape fandom #snape fanfiction

[merakiaes]

Glad It’s You - Draco Malfoy

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x reader

Requested: By @a-libra-writes​ and anon. 

Prompts: #2 from the common tropes-list. 

Warnings/notes: I squeezed to requests in together in this one, hope that’s okay. Not proofread so sorry in advance for any mistakes. It’s really short and probably not very eventful but leave a comment and let me know what you think. 

Wordcount: 1466

Summary: You’re in an arranged marriage with Draco and neither of you is happy about it. But everything changes when he gets hurt. 

Growing up, you and Draco had been as close as peas in a pod. It was inevitable, as your parents were all Death Eaters and close as well, having attended Hogwarts together in their youth.

You spent every day and did everything together, and maybe that was why you ended up tiring of each other and growing apart when you entered your teenage years.

Or perhaps, it was because your parents went behind your backs and arranged for you to marry after graduating, completely without telling you about it and completely against your will.

To a start, Draco was kind of indifferent about it, but you were a strong believer in the modern times in which you chose who you married yourself, and put up one hell of a fight, starting to go against everything and everyone and doing everything in your power to get back at everyone involved.

This included starting to hang around Gryffindors and muggleborns in general; to a start, only to piss off yours and Draco’s parents in hope that they would call off the wedding, but with time you came to the realization that there was nothing wrong with not being pure-blooded, like you had been raised to believe all your life.

In turn, Draco grew furious. Not only because you appeared so disgusted by the idea of marrying him, but because he felt betrayed.

And of course, being the petty, spoiled brats that you both, in truth, were, you both made it your mission in life to do everything in your power to make the other’s life a living hell.

First came the harmless but offensive teasing, but it quickly took a more hostile turn, the two of you more or less bullying each other every chance you could get.

But of course, your parents did nothing to call off the engagement. After one of your many tantrums, your mother had told you it was because they saw something you didn’t, and then went on about her arranged engagement with your dad and how they had learned to love each other.

Blah blah blah, that was all you could hear when she told you about it, continuing to do your absolute best to give him hell.

The friendship you’d had when you were younger was long gone at this point, the two of you absolutely despising each other. At least that’s what you thought.

It had been all fun and games up until now, Professor Snape waking you up in the middle of the night to pass on the word that Draco had been injured and brought to St. Mungo’s for treatment, and that he would grant you a visit if you wished for it considering your… relationship.

Snape knew better than anyone how the two of you interacted, having to put up with your constant competitions and hostile comments and behavior in school. 

So he was shocked to say the least when you accepted his offer and rushed out of bed to get dressed, worry written all over your face.

But he said nothing about it, simply escorting you to the Headmaster’s office to take you to the hospital by the Floo Network.

Upon arrival, Narcissa was the first one to greet you with a very awkward hug, Lucius offering you a stiff, even more awkward nod where he stood off to the side with his cane.

While they stayed behind outside the hospital room to speak with Professor Snape, no doubt about what punishment he was planning to give Potter as he, as usual, was the cause of all the trouble, they let you go into the room.

It was almost completely dark, aside from a lantern flickering in the window of the room.

Your eyes instantly found Draco where he was laying on the bed, and when hearing your footsteps approaching, he turned to look at you too, his head instantly pulling into a nasty scowl, his entire body tensing up protectively.

“Come to gloat, have you?” He spat out at you without missing a beat and you rolled your eyes, not at all fazed by the hostility.

“We’ve known each other since we were children, Draco.” You pointed out as you kept heading his way. “We used to have sleepovers, explore the woods, feed the ducks, spend every holiday together. I care about you, no matter how much it pains me to admit it.”

The last part came out as a sour mutter, and you begrudgingly sank into the chair at his bedside.

Draco scoffed, his lips turning down in distrust, his grey eyes analyzing your every move. “Really now?” He questioned. “Because I can recall you making fun of my hair just a few hours ago.”

“And you stole and hid my every pair of socks yesterday, so drop the attitude.” You replied without missing a beat, your glare hardening.

He held your glare for another moment, before averting his gaze to the ceiling above his bed with a huff.

While he laid there and sulked stubbornly, you took the time to remove the jacket you had thrown on with haste when getting ready a few minutes prior, completely oblivious to the way his eyes flickered over to watch you.

Once you had gotten the coat off, you turned around in your seat and hung it over the backrest of the chair, brushing out the shoulders over the edges before turning back around.

Draco quickly turned his head back away from you, averting his eyes back to the ceiling before you could notice him staring.

A heavy silence hanged over you in the air, thick enough to be cut by a butter knife, and you were looking everywhere but at each other.

You looked around the room for a moment, tapping your fingers against your thigh anxiously, before finally moving your eyes back to him.

You inspected his face for a few short seconds, taking note of the scowl still etched across the sharp features, before turning your attention to his bare chest, where blood had slightly soaked through the bandage.

Stilling your fingers on your thighs, you nodded your head at the injury. “Does it hurt?” You asked, the question instantly drawing a scoff from him.

“What do you think?” He asked right back, without looking at you.

You only rolled your eyes, standing up from your chair and lazily waving your hand to get his attention.  

“Scoot over.” You said, and once again, he scoffed, the glare on his face deepening and his eyes narrowing.

“What?”

“Have you gone deaf?” You raised an eyebrow and crossing your arms over your chest. “I said scoot over. It’s freezing in here and there’s more than enough room for both of us in there.”

The glare on his face slowly faltered, turning into one of mild suspicion. “You’re staying the night?” He asked carefully and you simply hummed in confirmation, waiting for him to do as asked and make some space for you.

After looking at you with distrust for another few seconds, he finally did what you asked of him, slowly moving over to the left side of the bed with light hisses leaving his lips, his hand protectively lingering over the bandage.

You wasted no time in getting in next to him, pulling the thin blanket over your body and getting settled, keeping as much space between the two of you as the small hospital bed allowed.

Once you were laying comfortably, you folded your hands over your stomach, heaving a heavy sigh and staring into the plain white ceiling.

“I know I make it seem like I hate you and all but I don’t.” You confessed in a flat tone. “I’m just as unhappy about this whole thing as you are but if I have to marry someone, I’m glad it’s you.”

Draco laid awkwardly by your side, his hands folded curtly over his stomach in an identical way to yours.

He was silent for a moment but soon enough you heard him sigh, his voice following shortly after. “Yeah, me too.”

In the corner of your eyes, you could see him unfolding his hands and bring his arms back down to his sides, and without looking away from the ceiling, you did the same, wordlessly moving your hand on top of his.

He froze at the unexpected touch, even more so when you intertwined your fingers with his. But he slowly relaxed again at the familiar touch of your skin against his, his eyes shutting with exhaustion and comfort.

It was just like when you were little and used to sleep over at each other’s houses, and both of you reminisced in the memory in silence, remaining on your backs and slowly lulling off to sleep side by side without another word.

Tagged: @lucillethings​ @writing-is-my-guilty-pleasure​ @peakyhermione​@fanficflaneuse​

(If you want to be added or removed from the tag list, send me a message, ask or leave a comment)

#Draco Malfoy #draco malfoy fanfic #draco malfoy fic #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco fanfiction #draco x reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco imagine #draco malfoy x reader

[alexiessan]

Never alone - Chapter Fourteen - Soulmate AU

AO3

Previous - Here - Next

Master List

Hi guys! I hope you’re all well! 

Here is chapter 14!

There was a knock at Marinette’s window around  11 pm, startling her awake. She hadn’t even noticed that she has fallen asleep at her desk, the movie she has been watching still playing.

Stopping the movie, she looked around, looking around her for what had woken up.

“Tikki? Was that you?” she asked.

The Kwami giggled.

“No, Marinette. Look at your window!”

She did as the tiny God told her, and gasped as she saw Robin, patiently waiting for her. Rushing to her window, she opened it and didn’t even wait for him to get inside to kiss him deeply.

“You’re here,” she whispered after they broke the kiss.

Eight months. It has been eight months since she had last seen him. Since that day where she has been badly hurt that the vigilante had made all the way from Gotham to see her because he was worried.

Eight long months. She had missed him every day.

“Damn, I missed you.” She said as he got inside her room.

His only answer was to kiss her.

“You won’t miss me for a while now.”

She laughed.

“Yeah, I’m so glad you’re here. Is Nightwing here too?”

He nodded. “He’s at our place now. You’ll see him tomorrow night when we’ll meet you and Chat Noir.”

“Good. But for now, I just want you all for myself.”

Robin smirked at her. “Good, me too.”

And he kissed her.

Chat Noir was pacing at the top of the Eiffel Tower, radiating energy and excitement. It was funny to see him like that, like a child waiting for a new toy, but he was starting to give Ladybug a headache with his pacing.

“Chat, please, calm down.”

“But, My Lady!”

She raised an eyebrow at the nickname.

“Uh, sorry. Habits.” There was a moment of silence before he got back to what he was saying. “But, we’re going to meet Robin and Nightwing! Do you know how famous they are? They fight every night in Gotham. I mean, we’re awesome, but I feel so small compared to them.”

She got what Chat was saying. When she first spared with Robin, he had told her bluntly that it was a miracle she was still alive and started training her. Then again, he told her what was good about her fighting too. The vigilante was rude like this, but it was not to take to heart. She knew that just because she wasn’t as good as he was didn’t mean that she was not good at all.

But she still trained, and Chat Noir did a bit of training too, and they got better.

But so did the Akumas, unfortunately.

“Don’t sell yourself short. We’ve improved with time. We may not be as good at them, but we’re good too.”

“You’re right. You’ve talked with them, right? Any advice before we meet them?”

Ladybug smiled at her partner. “They are both really good people. Nightwing is funny and all but he takes his job very seriously. Robin is blunt and sometimes rude, so don’t take anything he says to heart.”

She stopped for a moment. Should she tell him that Robin was her soulmate? He was going to find out sooner or later, it was probably better she told him sooner rather than later. Especially since he reacted so badly when he found out about her having a soulmate.

“There… is something else.”

Chat Noir finally stopped pacing and looked at her. She could feel his gaze on her, analyzing everything about her. Sometimes, she thought, she hated how well he could read her.

“I feel like I’m not going to like whatever you’re going to say.”

She winced.

“No. No, you’re not.”

She looked at him in the eyes.

“Before that, I need to know… Do you…” she hesitated. Could she really ask that? “Do you still… love me?”

Chat smiled at her. “I’ve never stopped, Ladybug.”

The red-clothed heroine winced.

“You’re not going to like it.”

She looked as the cat-themed hero took a deep breath. His face was peaceful, though.

“Look, LB. I still love you. I don’t know how to get over you. I don’t have a soulmate mark yet and… I think it’s the only thing that would help me move on. But I’ve accepted that you and I are not soulmates. That you found him, that you love him.”

She froze at that.

He chuckled.

“I’m not that oblivious, you know. It’s only natural that you love him. Even if, given your reaction, you didn’t know it yourself.”

No, she did know that she loved Robin. But she forced herself no to think about this specific word. She understood that Robin was having difficulties with human interactions. She knew that he wasn’t ready to hear those three words. That, the day he was ready to hear them was the day he would be ready to say them.

She was happy to wait until that day, but until that day, she preferred not to use that word, not in her mind, not while talking about it with someone else, because she would want to tell him afterward, and she couldn’t.

“And I’ve accepted it. It’s still hard, sometimes, but I’m your partner. And your friend. So whatever you have to tell me, I can handle it.”

She looked at him, thinking about the Chat from two years ago, and the Chat standing in front of her, and she couldn’t help but be proud of him. He has grown up during the last two years.

She gave him a short hug, no longer afraid about what she had to tell him.

“Chat, Robin is my soulmate.”

Last night, she had asked Robin if she could tell Chat about their bond. She had asked because, the day they revealed their identities to each other — for Robin to Marinette and for Ladybug and Chat Noir — Chat will know Robin’s identity too.

They had a long talk about it and he eventually agreed, knowing how important Chat was to Marinette, how she couldn’t afford to keep anymore secret for him, in fear that it would break their partnership.

If she trusted him to not tell anyone about her own identity, he could trust that the black cat wouldn’t tell anyone about his.

He told her that there was also a possibility that they would never know about each other’s identities since Chat Noir has stopped asking about revealing themselves.

Ladybug was wondering about that. Her partner seemed to be changing more and more, and maybe, when everything was over, he wouldn’t want to know who she was.

She didn’t know how to feel about that.

Chat gave him a smile at the news.

“You’re soulmate with one of Gotham’s heroes?! Can you be more awesome, Ladybug?”

She laughed and they fell into easy conversations while waiting for the two Gotham’s heroes — vigilantes, she corrected herself — to arrive.

The summer passed faster than any before for the fashion designer. Twice a week, she would meet with Chat Noir, Robin, and Nightwing as Ladybug to plan Hawkmoth’s downfall. She told them of her suspicion about Gabriel Agreste being the one behind the mask of the villain, but Chat Noir shot down this idea instantly.

Chat Noir was adamant about it. During the whole meeting, he ranted about how Gabriel Agreste could not be Hawkmoth.

At the end of the meeting, when Chat Noir left, Robin and Nightwing told her they would still investigate the suspect.

One suspect was better than none, and even if Chat was right and Gabriel Agreste wasn’t the holder of the butterfly Miraculous, it was better to thoroughly investigate and clear him.

While she spent a lot of time with her friends — especially Claude, Allan, and Allegra, letting Alya spending more time with Nino — she also spent a lot of time with Robin.

They made out a lot, too.

Robin still didn’t tell her about his identity, but she had a feeling that he would soon, so she was patient.

She would never force him to tell her his identity just because she wanted to spend more time with him, go on date with him or introduce him to her friends.

It was a good summer.

September came really quickly, and the Dupain-Cheng’s daughter found herself at school, looking for her name on the different lists.

Her class was almost the same as the previous year, she observed. Mireille and Jean weren’t in her class anymore. Chloé and Sabrina were still in her class, and Lila was once again put in her class.

There was also a new name on the list, one she’s never seen or heard before.

“Hey, Marinette, we’re in the same class again! That’s awesome!”

She turned to see Alya, Nino, Kim, Alix, and Adrien behind her.

“Hi, guys! I’m so happy to be in your class!” she hugged each of them. “What about you Adrien?”

He gave her a small smile. Adrien didn’t get along with his classmates as much as he did with the class from Ms. Bustier, back in the old days. Max was the only one he considered a friend in his class.

“Oh, you know, it’s pretty much the same as last year. It’s a small school, after all. But luckily, Max is in my class again.”

She smiled at him. Françoise-Dupont was a small school compared to others, so it wasn’t unusual that classes stayed pretty much the same as years passed. Especially if the students happened to get along and work well together.

On ne change pas une équipe qui gagne (Never change a winning team) as one of their professors one said to them.

Alya took her arm, putting some distance with the others.

“Hey, Mari, do you mind if I sit next to Nino this year?”

She watched her best friend as her face became grim. The reporter really had a bad feeling about her relationship with Nino, and she had confided during the summer vacations that the feeling was getting worse.

She could understand that she wanted to spend as much time with her boyfriend as possible before the inevitable happened.

Alya’s words, not hers.

“Of course.” she smiled, giving the journalist a side hug. “Don’t mind me, I’ll sit with Claude.”

“You’re the best, girl.”

Alya came back to Nino and Marinette went to greet Claude, Allan and Allegra.

“Marinette!” the blonde girl greeted her with a big smile, hugging her tightly. The black-haired girl returned the hug eagerly. Claude and Allan quickly joined the hug, almost suffocating her.

She laughed with them.

“I’m so happy we’re in the same class!”, Allegra said. “I have a feeling it’s going to be a very good year.”

“Yeah, I get this feeling too.” laughed the Eurasian girl. “Speaking of,” she pointed her finger at Claude, “You and I are sitting together this year.”

“Yes!” he shouted. “I knew you would change your mind.”

Claude has been trying to make her sit with him last year, but since she’s been seeing less and less of Alya the previous year, she at least wanted class time with her best friend.

She didn’t have to worry about them drifting apart this year, so she was happy to sit with Claude. The guy was so happy and positive all the time, she loved spending time with him. He had become one of her best friends in the span of a year.

“I heard we got Mr. Boulleau as a home teacher this year.” Informed Allan.

Mr. Boulleau was a math teacher and was pretty strict. For some reason, he didn’t seem to like Allan very much.

She put a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sure it’s going to be alright.”

Soon, they were all sitting in their seat, and Marinette couldn’t help but look around. Aurore was sitting next to Lila, talking to the tanned girl who seemed to appreciate it.

Huh, maybe Lila was changing after all.

Of course, Chloé and Sabrina were joined by the hip, like usual. Chloé seemed to be listening to the redhead, for once. Like, genuinely listening.

Another one changing.

Allan and Allegra were in front of her and just behind her was a new guy, sitting alone since they were an odd number in class. He was quite familiar, with black hair in an undercut, tanned skin and green eyes similar to her left one’s.

She was sure that she had seen him somewhere before, but where?

Mr. Boulleau arrived five minutes before the bell and instructed them to introduce themselves. No, they were not allowed to complain, he didn’t care if they already knew each other, since he didn’t know all of them.

So they all introduced themselves, with their name, their age, their career choice for later. Marinette knew everyone already, so she only listened with one ear until it was the new guy’s turn.

“My name is Damian Grayson, I’m sixteen and I’m an exchange student from Gotham, America.” he introduced himself in perfect French.

And that’s when Marinette recognized him, and how she knew that Grayson wasn’t his real last name.

It was Damian Wayne, Tim’s little brother that she briefly met at Wayne’s Enterprises a little more than a year ago.

She smiled. She would have to call Tim, the sneaky man didn’t tell her about his brother transferring to her school!

Tag List:

@bigpicklebananatree​ @animegirlweeb​ @crazylittlemunchkin​ @northernbluetongue​ @cutechip​ @justafanwarrior​ @iloontjeboontje​ @resignedcatservant​ @maribat-is-lifeblood​ @i-like-fairytail-and-stuff​ @toodaloo-kangaroo​ @mikantsume​ @dast218​ @amayakans​ @zestyzealot​ @lunarwolfspn​ @corabeth11​ @marinettepotterandplagg​ @olynix​ @aestheticnpoetic​ @hot-neighbour-nextdoor​

#maribat #daminette #maridami #damian x marinette #ml x dc #mlb x dc #miraculous x dc

[tenaciousarcadeexpert]

Criminal Minds-The Good Ol’ Days

@marvelfanlife, @itsmeedee, @stunudo, @veroinnumera, @derekmorgansoffice, @dontshootmespence, @cynbx, @jaqren, @literallyprentissstwin, @gabriellewritermua, @diamond-dreamland, @blitzz11, @beenthroughalot, @princesswagger14​

If anyone want to be tagged for the next parts just message me and I’ll tag you.

Chapter 2-Matt(Love at First Sight)

   Luke was heading up to his next class as he sees Penelope gather all of her stuff. Seeing how she was struggling to put all of her things away, he decides to help her out. "Hey, you need a hand?" Garcia looks as she sees Luke grab her rainbow planner and neon purple pencil case. "Uh, sure." He then offer to help her carry her bag while she carries her laptop. "Thank you, Mr...." "Luke Alvez. I was sitting right next to you." "I know. I just, didn't get your name." "It's fine. I see you're in a hurry, where to uh.." "Garcia, Penelope Garcia." "Oh Garcia. Well, where to?" "Up stairs, at least that's where my next class is. I'm taking Intro to Computer Programming." "Oh that sounds cool." "Yeah, not really. I wanted to take Software Engineering but my advisor said it was too advance for me and recommend that I take Intro to Computer Programming first. Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah." Luke chuckled in amusement. "Well, I'm sure you'll get into the class you want. Who knows, maybe this class wont be as bad as you thought it would be." She sighs. "I hope so."

      “I meant it when I said I didn’t believe in love at first sight. It takes time to really, truly fall for someone. “ -Claudia Gray

  In the meantime, Matt was out in the student lounge working on the assignment Professor Rossi gave them. He managed to answer quite a handful of them with ease. There were some that required more thought. Of course they were just simple questions that can be completed in a minute but Matt felt that it was better to treat them seriously based on Rossi's words of advice. He went over a couple of questions, some a bit more simple than others and answered them one by one, starting with the most simple questions:What is his name, what are you majoring in and where are you from. Once he got that covered, he moved on to the more intermediate ones. "Are you good at making friends?" One question asked. Matt took a deep breath and think. Remembering how he managed to make friends with JJ and Emily but not so much with Aaron, he wrote "I am, depending on the person." He then goes on to the next question. "Are you willing to trust your roommate with all of your secrets?" He then thought of Aaron. He didn't seem like the type of guy who'd snitch on him based on their interactions but was not someone one can easily open up to due to his rather stoic personality. "No." He then wrote. As he continues, a young girl walks by as she sat down on a chair across from Matt.  He looked to see her place her coffee on the table and took out a book she was reading. There was only four other people in the room in addition to the two of them, so it was mostly quiet, almost as if it was the library. While writing, he couldn't help but take several glances at her while answering the question about love at first sight. 

"Do you believe in love at first sight?" He stopped as he was unsure of how to answer the question. While trying to come up with an answer, he stares at the girl across from her. Of course he felt guitly looking at her, but he couldn't help but analyze every single detail of her. She had a pink skirt, brown sandals, a light pink blouse and a red cardigan. Her hair was light reddish-brown at least, with a hairclip to the side and has rosy pink lips. Even though she was unaware of Matt looking at her, he still felt guilty staring at her, and looked down on his paper. He then grabs his backpack and decides to move to another seat, hoping to not be distracted by her and hoping that she does not feel bothered by his constant glances. A few minutes have passed and Matt has completed most of the questions. All he need to worry was the most thought-provoking questions, as well as the "love at first sight" question. Even after half an hour, he was still surprised to see the girl still there while others come and go as they please. 

Just then, Kyle Hodges, a big guy with big muscles and spiky light brown hair bursts into the room as he tries to flirt with any girl he sees and likes. A couple of girls wave at him as he winks in response. As he looks around the room, he lays his eyes on the red-haired girl, who was still reading and walks up to her. The girl was reading deeply into her book on court just in which she was startled by the boy who stands right in front of her.

"Where have you been all my life?" He said playfully as he sat down beside her. The girl didn't say anything but was visibly uncomfortable by her presence. This left Hodges unfazed, as he tries to place his arm around her, only for her to move way. "Hey, easy girl, I was just trying to help you get comfortable." "Well, I'm not." Her voice starts to shake. "A-and I think it's best if you let me read my book in piece." She then pulls his arm away from her and continues to read, only for Hodges to grab the book away and placed it to the side. "Well, I think I have a better idea. How about instead of staying here and reading, we'd go for some burgers. I know a place and maybe I can take you there in my van." He murmured as he corners her on the couch. Intimidated by him, she pushes him out of the way. "I'm sorry, the answer is no." She then grabs her bag and book, only for Hodges to grab her by the wrist. "Hey, I just want to make a conversation, you didn't have to play hard to get!" "Hey, let go of me!" She yelled. Just then, Matt stopped writing as he sees the sight of Hodges grabbing the girl. Disgusted at his mysoginistic behavior, he walks up to them. "Hey, what's going on here?" He asked. "This man won't stop flirting with me even though I said no." "Only becuase you're playing hard to get." He snapped as he tightens her grip. Matt clenched his jaw and shook his head. "Let her go man." Hodges raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?" "Let her go. If she says no, she says no." "And what if I don't want to?" He snickered. "Seriously? You wanna start the first day like this? That is just plain childish. Not really you. Besides, she might tell her friends that you tried to take advantage of her, and it soon becomes the word of the campus, thus none of the girls are willing to wanna go out with you. Do you really want that to happen?" He shook his head in frustration. "N-no." "Then I suggest you let her go." Hodges looks at her and sighs before finally letting go. He then walks away in frustration, glaring at Matt just as he leaves. Once he was gone, the girl smiled in relief. "Thank you mister. I thought he would never leave me alone." "Well, he was quite a dick and I couldn't bear to let him harass you." "Yeah. It's a good thing you came." She said as she rubs her wrist. "Damn, so much for my first day here." "Well, it could've been worse." He then walks up to her as he points to her wrist. "Uh, you mind if I?" "Uhm, my wrist?" "Don't worry, I'm not Hodges, I won't do the same thing, I just want to help heal your wrist." "Uh, okay." She reluctantly extends her arm out to him as he massages her wrist. He could feel the gentle softness of her skin as he rubs. He then stopped as she feels her wrist. "Is that much better?" The girl moved her hand around with ease. "Much better. Thank you." He then smiled as he looked down to see a hair pin on he floor. Seeing that it must've fallen out during the altercation, he bends down to pick it up. "I uh, also think that this belongs to you." "Oh, I didn't know that happened." She responds as she touched the side of her head. "You mind if I-" "Of course." Matt then tries to place the clip on her hair, only to feel his hand shaking. Nervous, he pulled away as he placed the brown hair clip in her hand. "Sorry about that." He then readjust the side of her hair. "It's fine." The two smiled at each other for a moment, only for Matt to realized the time it is. Seeing that it was almost eleven, he decides to leave. "So, I guess I'd better get going. It was nice knowing you." "Nice knowing you too." He then walks back to pick up his belongings before heading out. Just then, the girl tries to catch up with him as he reached the doors. "Wait, I didn't get your name." "Oh." He paused. "Well, it's Matthew by the way. But you can call me Matt." "Okay, Matt." She replies with glee. "And you must be..." "Uh Kristy." She responds. "Kristy." He smiled. "What a lovely name." "Thank you again for helping me out there." He gently touched her hands. "No problem, just wanted to help." He then leaves the room as he heads to his next class. Kristy couldn't help but watch as he walks away. Looking down at her hair clip and touching the same spot where he touched on her hair as a way of remebering his soft touch, her cheeks turned pink as she smiled at the thought of him. If only they'd see each other again. Matt also couldn't stop thinking about her. How he saved her from Hodges' unwanted advances and the way she admired him after. Thinking about her brought a smile to his face. After plenty of thought and careful thinking, he now found the answer he was looking for.

“The moment I saw her, a part of me walked out of my body and wrapped itself around her. And there it still remains.” - Arundhati Roy

#matt simmons #kristy simmons #luke alvez #penelope garcia #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds au #the good ol days

[kpopfanfictrash]

De-Lovely

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Creative Content Contributors: @daegusoftboys , for her wonderful and amazing moodboard

Pairing: Reader / Taehyung 

Rating: 18+ (explicit sex, dirty talk, slight degradation)

Word Count: 11,630

Summary:  We’re all running from something. Whether it’s a painful past, uncertain future or murky present. One of my favorite things about theatre, is that for an hour, maybe two – you can escape. You don’t have to be yourself, if you don’t want to. Better yet, you can find yourself in someone else.

“Heads up!”

I look up, eyes widening when a snowball comes flying towards my face.

Someone tackles into me from the side, knocking me breathless to the ground. I gasp, elbow hitting at an awkward angle. My limbs sprawled, entangled in someone else’s as I groan, rolling off to the side.

My books lie scattered and I reach for the nearest one, hand accidentally brushing another in the process. I look up in surprise, meeting warm, brown eyes of the guy who saved me.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, giving a sheepish smile. The guy pushes his glasses up, handing over a book. “I didn’t mean to tackle you – I just heard that guy saying he was packing his snowballs with ice. Something about an aerodynamic advantage.”

“It’s alright.” I sigh, shaking snow from the center of my book. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

He grins, eyes crinkling. “That can be dangerous on this campus. I’m Jimin,” he offers, extending his hand.

“Y/N,” I shake it. “Thank you for the save.”

“No problem.” Jimin falls into step beside me, walking through the snow-covered quad. “Where are you headed?”

“Student Center,” I nod at the ivy-covered building. “I work part-time at the front store. Got to pay for that Statistics Masters somehow.”

Jimin laughs. “I understand. And wow, statistics – that’s so interesting,” he grins. “Why don’t you analyze me?”

My eyebrows lift. “Analyze you?”

Jimin nods, smile wide. “Tell me about myself – using numbers, of course.”

I glance over, taking him in. Jimin wears a long, black peacoat. Stylish, though I note with amusement that the pockets are still sewn shut. He’s wearing red mittens and a red beanie, square black frames low on his nose. Jimin’s backpack hangs by one strap, and I spot an ID badge hanging inside.

My gaze returns to his. “You just started dating someone,” I tell him. “You’re also a science teaching assistant.”

Jimin’s eyes widen. “Excuse me?” he gapes.

I smile, seeing that I’m right. “The pockets on your jacket,” I point out. “They’re sewn shut, which means it’s new. Since Christmas just happened, I figure it was a gift. Someone who knows your wardrobe well, knowing it would match your mittens – a girlfriend. Plus,” I add, adjusting my purse. “You have a hickey on your neck.”

Jimin blushes, adjusting his collar. “Spot on,” he laughs, coming to a stop outside the Student Union. “I just started dating my girlfriend before the holidays. How did you know I’m an assistant professor?”

“Well,” I smile. “That was more difficult. There’s an ID badge in your backpack, meaning you’re employed by the University – but you seem young. Logically, you’re more likely to be an assistant professor than a full one.”

Jimin raises both eyebrows. “True. Go on, what about science?”

I shrug. “That was lucky. Arts and Letters and Business are the biggest programs at Bangtan University. Which means you’re most likely in either those – but I don’t recognize you from Business.” I tilt my head. “That leaves Arts and Letters, which skews heavily female – aside from Professor Jeon, of course. No,” I shake my head. “You’re not Arts and Letters. Which made me guess Science.”

Jimin grins, clapping his hands. “Truly amazing. And correct,” he adds.

I offer a bow. “Yes, yes. I’m here until Thursday.”

“Glad I saved you from that snowball,” Jimin grins. “The world would have lost a valuable asset.”

“Thanks, Assistant Professor Jimin,” I call, walking up the steps. “I’ll keep that in mind, next time I feel down.”

Jimin laughs, turning away. “See you around, Y/N.”

I push open the doors to the building. The entryway is old, with mossy green carpet and high windows. Polished wood and fancy armchairs scattered about. I turn to the right, stepping through bronzed doors to enter the student bookstore. Checking the clock over the door, I see it’s 4:00 PM on the dot – just in time for my shift. I smile brightly at the manager, scooting behind the counter. “Happy Monday,” I call, swiping my time card. “How’s today treating you?”

Luis looks up, his expression bleak. “Jenny is sick, the bookstore sent a busload of tourists our way during lunch and the cappuccino machine in the staff room is broken.”

I wince, pushing hair behind one ear. “That bad, huh?”

Exhaling, Luis pushes to stand. “It will be fine, we’ll get past it. What time do you work until tonight?”

“10:00,” I answer, bending down to open the register. I check the bills against the total, nodding when the numbers match. “I have my first exam of the semester Friday. Can you image? It’s been what, two weeks?”

Luis snorts, adjusting his manager button. “Typical. This is why I hate the institution.”

“Luis, you are the institution,” I point out, barely able to stifle my grin.

“I know. I hate that, too.”

Laughing, I turn away. The store is quiet, well off the beaten path of tourists. The bookstore on Main Ave. gets the most traffic, being the first building people see upon entering. Only by getting out of their cars, walking across two quads and entering the student union can they find us.

It means our shifts aren’t taxing, just dull. I open my stats notes on the table, glancing down at them every now and again to memorize. I pause to greet those who enter, ringing them up and sending them on their way. Several hours later I’m still staring at my sheet, recalculating an equation to have a lesser p-value. The confidence interval should really be 95% and right now it’s only 90%. That leaves room for 5% error on either side and – exhaling, I study it again.

“Excuse me.”

Blinking, I realize someone is standing before me. Thankfully, Luis has stepped out to use the restroom and he doesn’t see. Doesn’t see my surprise, the stranger before me frowning, his foot tapping with impatience.

“Sorry!” I exclaim, pushing my notes to the side. “How can I help you?”

The man is wearing sunglasses. Sunglasses indoors, hair mussed as though he’s just rolled out of bed. He heaves a great sigh, looking over his lenses. “Yes,” he glances sideways. “It’s me.”

I blink back. “Uh.” I don’t know how to respond, so I wave. “Hello, you.”

The man winks, sliding his glasses up his nose. “Right.” He pulls off his leather gloves, laying them one by one on the counter. “I’d like five of the uh, what do you call them? T-shirts.”

I’m aware I’m staring when Luis re-enters the shop. Snapping to attention, I turn to the table behind me. “Right. We have the standard University logo in three different colors. Which would you prefer?” I offer, laying out one of each.

The man turns each over in his hand, then shrugs. “The green, I guess. I’ll take five.”

I nod, busying myself with wrapping. Placing them one by one in the box, then the bag. “Do you need anything else?” I ask him, keeping my smile frozen in place.

The man scans the shop. “From here? I don’t think so.”

Choosing not to reply, I ring him up. Typing in numbers with one hand as I continue to smile. “That will be 42.39,” I tell him.

“Alright.” Pulling out his credit card, he sets this down on the counter. “Here you go.”

The man glances over his shoulder, arching a brow. He’s very handsome. With a strong jaw, hands and the kind of smile capable of making girls weak. I can’t see his eyes behind the sunglasses but I imagine they’re just as lovely as the rest of him. The man turns to face me, smile broad.

“Here you go,” I mutter, handing him back his card and his bag.

“Thanks,” the man waves.

He doesn’t say anything as he leaves and I shrug, allowing the interaction to fall from mind. I’m rearranging my notes on the counter when I notice Luis staring. “What?” I ask, glancing up. There’s just the window to the quad, frosted with snow. “What’s wrong?”

Luis stares at me, then the door. “That was Professor Kim Taehyung.”

“Oh.” I close the register drawer. “Alright.”

Luis’ jaw drops. “Do you not know him? He starred in a Broadway musical at 18, won a Tony at 19. Composed a Grammy Award winning song, directed a Tony award-winning musical – no? None of this ringing any bells?”

I pause, then shrug. “Sorry, I don’t know much about theatre.”

Luis lets out a choked laugh. Then he looks at the counter. “Shit,” Luis groans, grabbing the thin, leather wallet. “Professor Kim left his wallet. Y/N, you have to go give it to him.”

“What?” I squeak. “Why me?”

“Because,” Luis pulls me out from behind the register. “One manager must remain in the store at all times. Now go give it back.”

Despite my grumbling, I pull on my coat. Shoving my arms through the sleeves and grabbing the wallet from the counter. I dash outside, pulling on my hat as I quint into the cold. The same guys are still throwing snowballs, so I take pointed steps around them. Spotting Taehyung at the far end of the quad, his scarf visible from here.

I break into a sprint when I hit pavement, not caring how stupid I look as I run. “Excuse me,” I mutter. “Pardon me!”

I push past students and professors, Taehyung’s head bobbing closer. He's looking down at his phone, not paying attention to his surroundings.

I skid to a stop beside him. “Professor,” I say, touching his elbow. “I just –”

Taehyung grabs my arm, dragging me sideways. “Not here,” he declares, pulling me into an overhang. “Too many people.” Taehyung whips off his sunglasses, placing them in the front pocket of his coat. “How can I help you?” he asks, smile dazzling. “Did you want an autograph? I’m sorry, I don’t usually sign on campus.”

I arch an eyebrow. “Uh, actually –”

“Fine.” Taehyung heaves a sigh. “One autograph. Who should I make it out to?”

I blink up at him. “How about this,” I say, slapping his wallet into his outstretched hand. “You take your wallet and write a note to yourself, reminding not to leave money in public places.”

Taehyung’s eyes widen with surprise – then he laughs. “I’ll do just that,” he grins, pocketing the wallet. “Huh.” He exhales, running a hand through his hair.

I’m already turning away, though. “Take care,” I call back, pulling my hood up around my face.

Taehyung steps before me, blocking my exit. “You don’t know who I am, do you?”

I look up, meeting his gaze. “Should I?”    

Taehyung pauses mid-answer. “I don’t know,” he admits. “An interesting question. I suppose not.”

“I just don’t enjoy the fine arts,” I shrug, starting to turn away.

“Whoa, okay,” Taehyung laughs, grabbing my arm. “This is more serious than I thought.”

“What is?” I ask, narrowing my eyes at his hand. “The only problem I see, is that you’re blocking my way back to work.”

“Ah,” Taehyung exhales. His face is ridiculously handsome – expressive and open when he smiles. “A workaholic, I should have known.” Taehyung scans my body. “You’re wearing a watch, your shirt is tucked into your pants. You were running after me, but you remembered to bring your hat. You live your life by the numbers, like comfort more than risk and are alienated by the ambiguity of theatre.”

My mouth drops. “That’s not true,” I reply – although it is. I’ll be damned if I let him know that, though.

Taehyung smirks. “You looked down and you touched your face, which means you’re lying.” At my surprised expression, he smiles. “I’ve spent years reading facial expressions – it comes in handy, during auditions.”

I roll my eyes at this. “Look, I’m sorry that I didn’t recognize you – but that doesn’t give you the right to insult me.”

Taehyung lifts both hands. “Insult you? I wasn’t trying to insult, merely observe.”

I step closer, crossing my arms. “An insulting observation.”

His mouth twitches, as though trying not to laugh. “Touché. Might I ask,” Taehyung’s voice drops. “Why then, do you not like the theatre?”

Staring back, I find myself at a loss for words. The wind blows through Taehyung’s hair, dark and messy. His eyes are clear though, focused and it’s hard to think about anything else. He has the voice of a natural singer, an actor, a performer. This observation is enough to ground me. “I’m a statistics major,” I tell him, turning away. “I like math, numbers, facts that aren’t open to interpretation. Theatre is the opposite of that. Anyways,” I pause, searching his face. “I really have to go. Goodbye, Kim Taehyung.”

Before he can respond, I leave. Turning into the wind, moving across the quad. I don’t look back to see if he follows. I doubt Taehyung cares that much – he’s probably already replaced his sunglasses and walked away. I don’t know why I look back, why I turn around when I reach the doors of the Student Union.

Taehyung is still standing there. He’s watching and upon seeing me looking, he waves. Taehyung’s shoulders shake and I think that he’s laughing as he turns to walk away. Continuing across the quad until turning a corner and disappears.

I enter the Student Union, nodding at Luis when he asks if I returned the wallet. “Yep,” I nod, moving behind the counter. “Professor Kim has his wallet.”

I fall silent, staring at the register. My heart pounds, drowning out all sensible thought. I should have been nicer to him. I was rude, saying I didn’t like his profession. That I found it little more than lies and smokescreens. I do though – that much is true. But it’s not Taehyung’s fault that I feel this way.

It’s his.

My fingers slide against the countertop, trying to brush away his memories. My ex, the person I thought was the love of my life. I loved watching him perform. Loved seeing him onstage, lit by spotlight with fire in his eyes. I went to each play, recital, musical and stage. I was there for him before, during and after his performances. Unfortunately – he wasn’t there for me.

Or rather, he was there sometimes. The rest of the time, he was there for other women. Fucking them backstage, in their beds, occasionally in ours.

We’d been dating for nearly two years when I walked in on it. I remember saying his name aloud. Saying it like a question, as if he weren’t really him and I wasn’t really me. As though I were floating, somewhere far above it all. Staring, unable to make sense of what I was seeing. No sense of shame as I watched their naked bodies.

She noticed me first, she saw me and shrieked. Pushing him off while she tried to leave. I just continued to stand there, motionless as he panicked. That was the first time I saw him anything less than in control. It was also the first time I realized he was a liar. A practiced one – a performer. My ex’s life was a stage, and he so easily felt in command of that.

That was when I swore to myself – no more actors. No musicians, no singers, no performers. The theatre has held a certain nausea since, but I couldn’t tell Taehyung that. No matter how open, how earnest he was, he’s a performer as well. Kim Taehyung is just like the rest – which means he can’t be trusted.

I shake my head then, looking up from the counter. Despite my unease, I needn’t worry. This is my last semester at Bangtan University – it’s not likely I’ll ever see Kim Taehyung again.

Two weeks later, I’m walking home from class.

Mentally reviewing a test from the day, theorizing if I could have answered problem number forty-seven a different way. I’m so concentrated on the question, my potential misstep, I don’t notice him walk into place beside me.

“You’re wrong,” Taehyung grins, by way of introduction.

I jump, startled at his appearance.

Taehyung wears a long, maroon peacoat. Unbuttoned to reveal a navy blue blazer and white button-down. A crimson scarf is looped around his neck and he has on the same, leather gloves. There’s a coffee cup in one hand and upon seeing my eyes return to his, Taehyung grins.

“I wasn’t checking you out,” I mutter, facing forward.

Taehyung’s grin widens. “I wasn’t asking.”

We walk this way for several minutes, until my curiosity overwhelms me. “Why am I wrong?” I ask.

Taehyung takes a small sip from his coffee. “Statistics,” he declares. “They’re rarely observed in black and white.”

My gaze lifts. “Oh?”

Taehyung nods. “Isn’t that the whole point – interpretation? I could give you a table of numbers and tell you it’s the average temperature by month of Bangtan Univeristy. Of course, if I were mistaken and the table was actually average rainfall – that’s a completely different meaning.”

Despite myself, the corner of my mouth lifts. “True.”

“So,” Taehyung nods, his voice solemn. “I will accept your apology.”

“Funny,” I retort. “I don’t remember offering one.”

Taehyung just smiles. “I’m waiting,” he sing-songs, arching a brow.

“I – no!” I laugh. “I’m sorry that I was rude. I know theatre is your life’s work and that you’re very proud of it, but – how I feel is how I feel.”

Taehyung stops on the sidewalk. Grabbing my arm, turning me to face him. “No,” Taehyung raises a brow. “Allow me correct a very serious misunderstanding. I am not proud of my work – I adore it. I live it, breathe it, cannot be parted from the music of my soul. To hear you desecrate it so,” Taehyung winces, clasping a hand over his heart, “is nothing short of crippling. I must beg you reconsider.”

I wait until he’s done. “Is that it?” I ask, arching a brow.

Taehyung’s face rearranges to normalcy. “Okay, you’re not dramatic. That’s fine,” he nods, serious. “We can work on that.”

“We?”

“You and me. Us.” Taehyung smiles. “Together.”

It’s very irritating, how my heart flutters at his words. Taehyung’s enthusiasm is so contagious, smile so warm that it’s hard not to lean in. It’s hard to remind myself it’s an act. Taehyung said so himself – he does not know where the stage ends and he begins.

“Yeah, no.” I continue to walk. “I think I’ll just be me, and you be you.”

It surprises me then, when Taehyung follows. “Let’s try something else,” he says. “What was the last musical you saw?”

I continue to stare straight ahead. “Anything Goes.”

When I say the name, the memories come rushing back. Him, on stage. Kissing her. Kissing her and now the two of them, entangled in sheets. Our bed, his body – I shake my head. No.

“You didn’t like Anything Goes?” Taehyung groans. “No – ‘you’re the top?’ No – ‘you’re the coliseum?’ I’m sorry. I guess tap dancing, show-stopping numbers and luxurious high seas romance isn’t for everyone.”

He sounds so offended, I can’t help but laugh and the blatant hurt of that memory starts to fade. “The tap dancing was the worst part,” I object. “How unlikely is it, to be sailing across the ocean and bam! –"

“Ship hit an iceberg?” 

“No. Bam! Everyone realizes they can tap! It would never happen.”

Taehyung snorts. “Okay, how about another tactic? Forget musicals.” When I look surprised, Taehyung presses his hands to his lips. “Believe me,” he mutters. “Just saying this pains me. But forget them,” he waves his hand. “They’re forgotten, don’t exist. What about concerts? Musicians in general?”

I shrug, letting my shoulders fall. My apartment building is in view and I slow my steps, trying not to be obvious. “I don’t know,” I allow. “I suppose I like music, it’s nice background noise.”

Taehyung freezes and for a second, I think I’ve broke him. “Background… background noise? Nope,” Taehyung shakes his head, loosening his scarf from around his neck. “Unacceptable.”

I smile, coming to a stop outside my building. “Well,” my mouth lifts. “I don’t know what to say. This is my place.”

Taehyung glances over my shoulder at the door. “Right. Well.” He sighs, breath fogging in the air before us. “This isn’t over,” he warns, eyebrows raised.

I laugh, rummaging in my purse for keys. “Okay, Professor Kim. Whatever you say.”

As I turn to leave, his hand slides around my wrist. I look up, startled to see how close Taehyung is. His eyes are earnest. “Why don’t you like theatre?” he asks again. “Aside from your bullshit, ‘it’s not structured,’ excuse.”

I can’t look away. “I – I have my reasons.”

Taehyung peers back. “Usually when someone says that,” he allows, softly letting go of my arm. “It means they’ve been hurt.”

I remain silent.

Taehyung nods, almost to himself. “I understand that.” 

I almost tell him.

Almost open my mouth to explain – but then stop. Taehyung is a stranger. A very attractive one, sure, that I can’t seem to get out of my head. One whose hand on my arm sends warmth through my body, whose conversation these past minutes has been the most interesting I’ve had in a long time.

None of that matters though, because this is just a role for him. This is Taehyung, acting a potential love interest. Just him, putting on a show and so I slowly turn away. “Goodnight, Taehyung,” I say.

I hear him exhale behind me. Feel his eyes linger, as I walk inside. When I reach my apartment, I toss my bag on the counter. Collapsing onto my couch and resting my head on the pillows. I stare over at my empty television screen.

Flicking the power button, I turn it on. Then off again, not knowing what to watch.

Not knowing what to think, because all I can think of is Taehyung.

In the following weeks, I don’t see him.

It’s not surprising, I suppose. There’s no reason I would see him, given our separate professions. In his absence though, I end up looking him up on the internet.

Just the once.

Okay, twice.

And then a couple more times.

Kim Taehyung, visiting Professor from Bangtan National Opera House. It’s exactly as Luis said: Taehyung landed the lead in a Broadway musical at age eighteen, won Best Male Actor when he was nineteen. After that, he took time off and penned a Grammy winning song before reentering the Broadway scene as a Director. After his second Tony, Taehyung began conducting at the National Opera House. His first stint at Bangtan University was as visiting lecturer, but he was in such high demand Bangtan Univeristy ended up bringing him on full time.

Taehyung comes from a small town in the middle of nowhere. He was thrust into the spotlight at a young age. No real family to speak of, since they’ve never traveled to any of his performances. I read this line over and over, struggling to make sense of it. His parents have never even seen him perform.

It’s this, opposed to his many awards, which runs through my mind the rest of the week. Try as I might, I can’t seem to push this fact aside.

Other than that, I try not to think much about Kim Taehyung. I do a pretty good job of it, until I come home Thursday night and find an envelope waiting at my door. I pause, glancing up and down the hallway. My apartment is on floor seventeen – which means it’s rare for me to get pamphlets or that sort of thing.

There’s no message on the outside to explain, just my name. Scrawled in hasty cursive, elegant in its simplicity. I bend to pick it up, unlocking my door and pushing inside. Shrugging from my jacket crossing into my kitchen.

When I open up the envelope, a single ticket falls out.

I stare for a long moment, then open the envelope further. This time I see the note, scribbled on loose-leaf paper.

Dear Y/N,

We’re all running from something. Whether it’s a painful past, uncertain future or murky present. One of my favorite things about theater, is that for an hour or two – you can escape. You don’t have to be yourself if you don’t want to be. Better yet, you can find yourself in someone else.

I find myself over and over on that stage. Part of the reason I perform, is to allow others to see me as well.

I want you to see me.

Kim Taehyung

Slowly, I flip over the ticket. It’s for tomorrow night, Friday at 8:00 PM. One ticket to Bangtan University’s Fine Arts Mid-Semester Showcase. My fingers slide against paper, breath coming quick and uneven. I haven’t set foot in an auditorium since my ex.

I hate how much he hurt me. Objectively, I know it’s him that I’m mad at, not the theatre. Objectively, I know it’s his infidelity which hurt, not the stage. It’s so hard to separate, though – all mixed together with the sound of his voice, the feel of velvet seats and song. I hate avoiding the spots which once were ours, the people we once shared – all because I want to avoid the person I used to be. That naïve, foolish girl who couldn’t see she was alone.

Couldn’t see she was unloved and when I realized, when I saw - it broke me.

I turn Taehyung’s ticket over in my hand. Staring blankly at the letters on the back. Then at his letter, open before me.

My hands fist in my pockets. Fingers sliding over his note, folded into squares. It’s something I do when I’m nervous, fold things over and over. Tracing and retracing until the edges are smooth. Until I feel the creases beneath my fingers, as though the paper could tear at any moment.

I take a breath. Someone jostles my shoulder, forcing me forward. “Sorry,” I apologize, even though they’re at fault. The stairs of Wincest Performing Arts Center curve upwards, mostly bare but for the snow melting in the corners.

It’s 7:55 PM, which means most people have already entered. By now they’re already seated and the doors in the lobby are likely close to closing. In five minutes, the show will begin. In five minutes, I won’t be able to enter. Then my decision will be made for me.

For a moment, the thought brings me relief. I can just say I was late, and that will be that.

Then that relief disappears. Shame and anger unfurling in my stomach. This isn’t me, I’m no coward. I can do this, I can enter this auditorium and I sit facing the stage. I can watch this performance and not think about him.

I can turn tonight into something new.

Shoulders squared, I walk in at 7:57 PM. The lights in the lobby are already flickering – I mumble apologetically to the usher while she shows me to my seat. I’m close, sitting in seat F11. It’s six rows from the front, the exact center of the auditorium. Clutching my program tight to my chest, I slide into my seat. Apologizing to the people on either side, at I collapse into the small, velvet seat.

From the corner of my eye, I think I see the curtain move. When I look over, there’s no one there. I shake my head, pulling out my program to squint at the page. It’s the mid-semester recital, meaning every single Fine Arts student auditioned for one of the fifteen spots. All performance arts – acting, singing, musical instruments and more.

But – no. There are sixteen acts listed. Skimming the page, I move from the first song down to the bottom. I swallow, when I see performer number 16.

Kim Taehyung, Professor of Fine Arts …………….. De-Lovely, Anything Goes

My heart pounds, too loud in my chest. De-Lovely is a song from Anything Goes. My eyelids flutter, as I try to block out the memories. Struggle to keep them, and him at bay.

Then my eyes open.

Strangely, when I think of that song – I don’t think of him at all.

The first notes of a violin start. I look up, to where a violinist has entered. The woman is small, frail as she nestles her instrument into the crook of her neck. Bow gliding smoothly over the strings like water and I force myself to relax, hands tight in my pockets. I run my finger over the edge of Taehyung’s note, a nervous tic.

I want you to see me.

The next act is a monologue, a soliloquy from Act 2, Scene ii of Hamlet. A spotlight replaces the bright stage lights of the violinist. A male enters, making forlorn eye contact with the audience.

“Now, I am alone,” he says starkly.

Sometime during his recitation, I move to the edge of my seat. Staring, enraptured at his stage. I forgot how good it feels, to let go. Losing myself, finding myself in another person. I come back to myself at the end, richer than before. That’s the beauty of theatre, why I used to enjoy watching so much.

Each performance is more beautiful than the last. I lose myself in each one, vision blurring as I return over and over to my body. I travel to 1881 Paris in the audience of the Opéra Populaire. Lose myself to the strings of Mozart’s String Quintet k 593. I travel with Odysseus, visit late nineteenth century Germany. Half the time, I’m not certain if my eyes are open or shut – only that I see.

My eyes are open when he steps onstage.

Taehyung is dressed simply. Wearing an all-black, well-fitted tuxedo. He grips the microphone with one hand, exhaling as the first notes of piano sound.

Taehyung lifts his gaze.

His voice is low, stirring and I’m lost at the end of the first line. He sings the song slower than normal, with no comedic effect. He asks each phrase at the audience. To the seats. To me, I think. His gaze roams the crowd and when he sees seat F11 filled, a small smile lifts his lips. Taehyung takes the microphone in one hand, pulling it from the stand.

He moves forward, continuing the song. His voice soars along the rafters, winding through the seats. Flaming sentimentality to being and I don’t know when it was I moved to the edge of my seat.

Taehyung sings with pure joy, the presence of a man falling in love. Hesitant, unsure, excited and willing. I feel each emotion flitting across his face – which terrifies me. I see myself in him. I see Taehyung, the way he wants to be seen. I see everything, too much and it scares me.

I sit back down, sinking into my seat while I stare at my knees. I concentrate on breathing, the rise and fall of my chest. People break into applause around me, the song coming to an end. I push myself to stand along with them, clapping softly. I manage to smile – I think Taehyung’s gaze finds mine in the audience. He mouths something, though I can’t understand.

Taehyung disappears offstage, the lights of the theatre slowly rising. People are buzzing, their excitement obvious. I hear one woman say to her husband that she never thought she’d hear Kim Taehyung live. Never thought she’d hear him sing, and so – she stops talking then, and I hear the sudden sound of a handkerchief being blown.

I don’t know what to do. I want to stay and congratulate Taehyung, but standing here like this is suffocating. Claustrophobic with memories, I see my past self waiting at that stage door. I see my ex exit, see him wrap his arms around me. See me thinking it was just makeup and hairspray making him smell like that.

I warp my arms tightly about myself, convincing myself that I’m okay. This is okay.

I am not okay.

I turn, halfway to the end of the row when I see Taehyung enter the audience. He’s wearing a loose, white shirt. Tucked into black trousers, his hair slightly mussed and sweaty. He grins at the multiple people who approach him, bowing and accepting their compliments. He’s surrounded by his people, surrounded by his admirers.

Of course. This is what my ex would do – emerge from the side door, already speaking to someone else. He’d wave at me to stay put, because he’d be right back. Then he’d disappear, leaving me waiting until he was ready to leave.

Taehyung looks up.

When he sees me there, a smile breaks over his face. He mouths something and this time, I catch it.

Stay.

I’m amazed at the speed Taehyung disentangles himself. Smiling politely to those around him, pushing his way past the arms of friends, performers and strangers. When he arrives at me, he pushes his hair back from his eyes. “You came,” Taehyung smiles.

I nod. “I did. I, uh – wanted to thank you. For the ticket,” I clarify.

Taehyung arches an eyebrow. “There’s no need to thank me. I’m happy you came.”

I frown. “How did you know where I live?”

“I, well.” Taehyung blushes, rubbing the back of his neck. “I may have asked a favor from a certain member of the administration. I asked if he could give me your address, so I could mail something.”

My jaw drops. “That has to be illegal.”

“I’m sorry!” Taehyung offers a lopsided grin. “At first I was just going to drop it off at your work but – where’s the fun in that?”

Eyes narrowing, I stare back at him. Stare for longer than I mean to, because I’m suddenly unsure of what to say. There are so many things I want to tell him. My anger fades, remembering his performance. His singing was beautiful – but of course he knows that. I was moved – Taehyung doesn’t know that, but it would be inappropriate to say. It would also be inappropriate to tell him I remembered myself, watching him. Remembered the parts of myself I left behind, saw ones I wanted back.

I say none of this, thogh. Instead, I smile. “I saw you,” I say softly.

I don’t clarify, but Taehyung’s gaze darkens. He exhales, chest rising and falling as I watch. I’m caught up in my thoughts, caught up in his spell, caught in his eyes and all the words he might say.

“Taehyung!”

Someone pushes past, pulling Taehyung into a hug. It’s not someone I recognize, their nametag scrawled with Jung Hoseok. He’s with a woman, the kind of woman it’s hard not to be envious of. She holds herself regally, staring at Hoseok with pure love and adoration. Adoration echoed in his eyes, as he looks her way.

“Taehyung-ie,” Hoseok grins, ignoring Taehyung’s groan at his nickname. “You were amazing tonight! Stupendous! Superb! This is the girl I was telling you about.”

Taehyung’s eyes widen, turning his smile sideways.

I take a step backwards, sensing I’m no longer needed. Or maybe I am – since I like to think that Taehyung had more to say. Like to think he’d want to say more – but I don’t give him the chance.

Instead I leave, slipping out as quietly as I came. Outside, snowflakes drift down from the sky. I scowl at the sight, since it’s currently the middle of March. Spring should be coming, not this prolonged continuation of winter. Hurrying down the steps, I walk the remaining few blocks to my apartment in silence.

Silence but – I reach into my pocket, pulling out headphones.

I slip them onto my ears and play De-Lovely.

Someone is knocking at my door.

I push back my covers, drowsy and incoherent as I stumble from bed. There’s music playing, which makes no sense. Maybe I left my iPhone on before I went to sleep. Whomever is at my door continues to knock though, the sound loud and annoying as I make my way down the hallway.

I throw open the door. “Who the f –"

Taehyung strides through the door and kisses me.

My words fade, too surprised to react. That is, until his bottom lip nudges between my own. Opening my mouth, as his hands tangle in my hair. Taehyung exhales into my lips, his breath soft. “Hi.”

I can’t think, can’t feel beyond his presence. “Hi.”

Taehyung just stares at me, his eyes darkening. When he lowers his mouth, I meet him half-way. My kiss is just as hungry, just as aching as his is. Taehyung backs me into the wall, hands skimming over my body. He’s dressed in his tuxedo from earlier, and I shove his jacket down from his shoulders.

Taehyung’s lips burn my throat, hands flat to the wall. His hips press lazily forward as I moan his name. “I want you,” I breathe. “Taehyung, I want you.”

From far away, there’s a cell phone ringing. I ignore it. Winding my hands through Taehyung’s hair, tugging at the roots to make him growl. He nips my throat, hips making lazy circles as –

RIIIIIIING. RIIIIIIING.

I bolt upright, staring wildly around my bedroom. There’s no one there. No one except for me and my alarm clock, set to go off at 2:30 AM.

Slowly, I lower myself back to my pillows. Staring up at my ceiling, unable to control my heartbeat. It was a dream. Just a dream, it wasn’t real. Still, I feel him. I feel his hands on my body, his lips at my neck. Hear his grumbled moans against my throat and I press my eyes shut. Raising my hands to rub against my temples.

It was just a dream.

Now that I’ve seen Taehyung though – I can’t seem to stop.

The next few weeks, I ban myself from thinking about him.

It’s hard though, when every impulse of mine is to like Taehyung. I like his humor, his odd mix of arrogance and humility. I like the way he looks at me, how he listens, how he genuinely seems to care. But I promised myself I wouldn’t date another actor. Not after the last one.

The only thing is – I no longer find such conviction in this thought. Memories of my ex no longer pain me the way they used to. I walk past our table in the dining hall and feel fine. I see our old friends and wave. I’m slowly returning to the person I once was – albeit a stronger, better version of myself.

I feel free.

It’s a week later I close out my shift on campus. Luis has a doctor’s appointment, so I tell him I’ll shut down the store. Shoving the register away, taking one final sweep around the place. Ensuring all merchandise is folded and placed back on the shelves.

Everything is in order though and I exhale, turning to grab my bag – and knocking a container of pencils to the floor in the process. “Shit,” I mutter, bending to pick them up. I place them onto the counter, frowning at the broken tips.

“Ahem.”

I jerk backwards, nearly knocking over the pencils once more. “Taehyung!” I exclaim, seeing him standing before me. “What are you doing here?”

Taehyung’s eyebrows rise, as though he’s trying not to laugh. “Hi,” he waves. “Yes, it’s me.”

I scoop up the pencils, placing them back in their box. “Can I help you?” I ask, avoiding eye contact. “Did you come to buy another t-shirt?”

Taehyung’s lip quirks. “No,” he says, shaking his head. “I came to ask you a question.”

He sounds oddly serious so I stop, looking up at him. “What question?”

Taehyung steps from around the counter. Coming to a stop to stare down. “Can I have your number?” he asks. “I feel bad getting your address from Seokjin. I mean – uh, from an unnamed faculty member,” Taehyung winces.

Despite myself, I smile. “Why would you want my number?”

Taehyung exhales. “I suppose, ‘because I want to ask you out,’ is too obvious an answer?”

“Oh.” I pull on my coat, lifting my purse from the counter. When I walk past, our shoulders brush. “I can’t go out with you,” I say softly.

Taehyung just looks at me, leaning his elbows onto the counter. “Physically? Are you thinking of becoming a nun or something?”

I look back over my shoulder. “Not a nun, Taehyung. I can’t date you.” I explain, pushing open the door.

Taehyung follows me, catching the door easily. He steps outside and watches me lock it, slipping the key into my pocket. When I walk down the steps he follows, continuing to watch from the corner of his eyes.

“Stop doing that,” I insist, pushing my hand frustratedly through my hair.

Taehyung raises his eyebrows, but remains silent. It hasn’t snowed since the night of the concert – making the grass on either side of us dull and faded. Buds just starting to appear in the trees, though they won’t become full flowers until a few weeks out.

“Not until you explain why you won’t go out with me,” Taehyung says pleasantly. He’s wearing dark jeans, a navy button-down paired with a dark leather bomber jacket. His sunglasses are pushed up into his hair, but his expression remains serious.

I continue to walk, as the sounds of campus encompass us both. Why won’t I go out with Taehyung? Again, I remind myself why. All my past hurt, past wrongs, past pain at the hands of an actor. I wring my hands before my body, trying to convince myself this is right. I promised myself, I never would again.

But then I look sideways, where Taehyung still looks back. Sneaking glances every so often and I realize how very different his is. My ex never looked this way at me, never saw me the way Taehyung does. He certainly never would have tried so hard to date me. I was always the one chasing, not the other way around.

He never noticed things in my life which pained me – Taehyung noticed on the very first day. Not just that, but he tried to help. Sent me tickets and gave me the courage to find myself. To let myself feel, something I can never repay him for. I glance over as I walk, realizing I haven’t spoken for more than a few minutes.

“My ex was in theatre,” I confess. Looking forward while we leave campus, continuing down the street. “He was brilliant, charismatic. Drew people in without even trying. Of course,” I sigh, not daring to look at Taehyung. “It wasn’t just me who was drawn in. Things, well – didn’t end well.”

Taehyung is silent. “And I remind you of him?”

“Sometimes,” I admit. Taehyung’s face falls. “I promised myself that I wouldn’t date another actor. I don’t want to seem rude, it’s just too much for me. Someone whose life is performance – it doesn’t just stay on the stage, you know? You’re constantly thinking of how to present yourself, how to adjust yourself. How to tell the story, convey a message. It’s hard enough,” I whisper, looking ahead. “To understand someone without the added theatrics.”

Taehyung is silent for a long while. Just the sounds of his footsteps, echoing as he contemplates. He doesn’t leave me, though. Doesn’t turn away – giving me hope. Hope for what though, I don’t know. I don’t even know what I want from him.

Well, that’s not true. I want him. I want Taehyung near me, around me, in my life and in my apartment. It’s why I’m continuing to walk this way, why I don’t stop at my door and tell him to go.

Taehyung still doesn’t speak, while I pause in my lobby. I cross my arms across my chest, looking up at him. “Well?” I demand. “Do you have something to say?”

Taehyung’s gaze flickers to the doorman behind me. He looks up at my elevators. “I’d rather tell you in your apartment,” he confesses quietly. “If you’re willing to invite me up.”

I can barely hear him, over the beating of my heart. Over the paralysis which seizes my body, giving me pause. I’m a walking contradiction because I want him, so badly – but my pride won’t give in.

The least I can do though, is hear what Taehyung has to say. I turn. “Come on,” I say, walking across the lobby.

Taehyung follows. He doesn’t stand beside me in the elevator, leaning against the wall and letting his gaze wander. The box lifts, shooting past floor after floor. His gaze is dark, unreadable. When I step out of the landing though, my pulse is racing.

I’m thankful then, that I cleaned my apartment earlier. I turn on my light, setting my purse on my counter to look over my shoulder. “Would you like some coffee, or maybe tea?” I call, shrugging from my jacket.

When I turn around, I come to a stop.

It’s odd to see Taehyung in my apartment. Odd, in a nice way. He seems to fit – I wasn’t sure that he would. He shrugs free of his jacket, draping it over his arm. Taehyung’s shirt is loose, slightly open at the collar and he gazes curiously around my apartment.

“No, thank you,” Taehyung declines my offer. “Your place is very clean,” he observes.

Looking around, I nod. “I like things orderly.”

Taehyung smiles, laying his jacket on top of my stool. He stands motionless for a second, staring at me. “Can I ask you something?”

I nod. “Go for it.”

“Why did you ask me here?” Taehyung tilts his head, expression unreadable. “I understand what you said. I understand you’ve been hurt, that you don’t want to be again. But if you really don’t want to date me, why am I here?”

I fiddle with the edge of my shirt. “I – I don’t know.”

Taehyung nods, before taking a step forward. “Let me tell you what I think,” he says softly. “I think when we met, you were still healing. I think you associated your past relationship with performance, because to him – whomever that douchebag was – they were one and the same. I understand that,” Taehyung hesitates, brow lowering. “I understand why it hurt, being close to something he loved.”

I nod, taking a shallow breath. “That’s true. It was.”

Taehyung takes another step. “But,” he adds, gaze searching mine. “You’re wrong.”

My gaze lifts. “Excuse me?”

“You’re wrong,” Taehyung shakes his head. “Theatre isn’t lying. It’s the purest form of humanity,” he insists, lips white. “I hate your ex, because he dabbled in things he didn’t understand. He didn’t get that the whole point of acting, of singing, of music, of art is to find yourself. To take an unseen truth and show it to an audience.”

I stare back at him, mesmerized by his expression. Taehyung’s eyes dance, burning in his face; smoldering in their intensity.

“Each time I sing,” Taehyung breathes, his voice catching. “Each time I act – it’s me, up on that stage. It has to be, otherwise it’s not genuine. I look at the role, the words, the song and I ask what truth I’m trying to uncover. Which part of myself I need to make raw. Because that’s what the audience relates to,” Taehyung exhales. “The moment of transformation. Seeing yourself on that stage, seeing yourself in a character. That can’t happen, if the performer doesn’t know who they are.”

Taehyung runs his hands through his hair, nearly knocking his sunglasses aside. He removes these, laying them cross-wise on the counter. “God,” he laughs. “It frustrates me, hearing that someone hurt you. Hearing someone hurt you that way, since it shut you down. I don’t even care,” Taehyung insists, waving a hand. “Don’t even care if you date me. I care that you don’t close yourself off, that you stop letting him hurt you like this. I care that you live.”

Taehyung’s chest rises and falls, breaking the silence. I run my fingers over the palm of my hands, unable to look away from him. His words are everything I feel. Everything I’ve felt these past few weeks, ever since seeing him onstage. It’s not the theatre I hate, not performance which hurt me – it was my ex. His lies, his deception, the way that he did it so easily.

I was also angry at myself. For not seeing it earlier, for letting myself be taken advantage of.

It was easy to blame art. To blame the profession, to say it was corruption when truthfully, it was just him. My ex would have done the same were he a banker, a lawyer, a doctor, a teacher. The fact that he was an actor was as coincidental a thing as anything else.

I exhale. “He’s not hurting me,” I say softly. “Not anymore.”

Taehyung stares for a moment longer. “Then,” he murmurs. “Can I ask you just two more things?”

I nod.

Taehyung walks closer, hands sliding to the base of my hair. His thumb strokes over my cheek, tilting me upwards. “Are you attracted to me?” he asks.

I nod, slowly.

“Then why do you keep running away?”

I hesitate. Taehyung’s hand is warm, body close enough to fill the space between us. “Do you remember when we first met?” I swallow, watching his brow crease with confusion. “You were arrogant, so over the top. It’s hard to believe what you say,” I hesitate. “Since my first impression of you was exactly what I expected you to be.”

Taehyung’s eyes widen. “And what was your expectation?” he exhales, nearly a laugh. “What did you think I would be?”

“An actor,” I admit, looking up at him. “A talented, successful actor who didn’t understand what it meant to hear the word ‘no.’ Who only wanted me, because I said it. Who only chased me, because I ran. I don’t want to give in,” I grit my teeth. “Because I didn’t want to give you the satisfaction.”

Taehyung’s eyes glint, almost angry. “You think I don’t understand no?” he asks, low and dangerous. “Y/N. Do you realize what it means, being successful in my field? To actually make it, in the theatre?”

Slowly, I shake my head no.

“I have heard the word no,” Taehyung repeats, closing his eyes. “Ever since I can remember. ‘No one from your town has ever left.’ ‘No one with your features has ever been cast.’ ‘No one with your range can sing this song.’ No, no, no. Over and over, until it’s the only thing I hear at night.” Taehyung opens his eyes, gaze burning. “I hold myself a certain way, act a certain way because people say yes when they think there’s a reason. People say yes, if you think it as well.”

“I’ve gotten here,” Taehyung explains, “on the back of the word no. My parents said I couldn’t do it – hell, they’ve never even been to one of my performances. I was the one who hopped on a bus, who slept on friends’ couches for months as I attended audition after audition. I heard no every time I opened my mouth until – one yes.”

Taehyung stares back at me. “I’m sorry I came across as a dick, that day that we meet. I’ll admit it – people often recognize me around campus. I get a bit cocky, I assume things. Sue me, I’m human,” Taehyung laughs. His fingers sliding into my hair, lifting my chin. “But – if you think I like you just because you’re running?” Taehyung shakes his head. “I haven’t done a very good job at chasing you.”

I stare up at him, stomach sinking as I realize I may have misjudged him. I assumed Taehyung to be one thing when actually – he’s something else entirely. I look down at my feet, struggling to find words. “I’m sorry,” I confess. “Sorry I assumed, sorry I ran. Truthfully,” I say, still unable to look at him. “I’ve been falling for you since our first conversation. It’s why I tried to stay away. I could feel myself falling, and I wasn’t ready. Wasn’t ready for the way that you laughed, the way you lifted my spirits, the way you made me dizzy and excited all at once. I wasn’t ready, and so I pushed you away.” I look up, meeting his gaze. “I think I’m ready.”

Taehyung doesn’t speak. Then he bends, brushing his lips with mine.

Once, twice.

Catching my lower lip to back me against the wall. His body presses forward, hands sliding up my sides and tangling into my hair. Taehyung grabs my wrists, lifting them overhead. Pinning me in place as his lips graze my neck.

My breath catches, hips pushing feverishly back. “Taehyung,” I groan, arching against his body.

His mouth curves into a smile at my throat, hands wrapped tight around my waist. “Yes?” Taehyung murmurs, lips tracing my jaw. “What do you want from me?”

I shake my head, unsure. “I don’t know.”

Taehyung leans back, cocking an eyebrow. “Well,” he grins, a dark glint to his eyes. “I have to know. Do you want me to just kiss you, or do you want me on my knees?”

I inhale, legs pressed tight together at the thought. When Taehyung kisses me again, his lips are hot and needy. He lets go of my wrists and my fingers twist into his hair, pulling him closer. His knee nudges between my own, grinding my sex and making me groan.

Taehyung’s hands slide to my ribcage, thumb grazing my breast as his lips trail my neck. Taehyung sucks where my neck meets my shoulders, kneading the skin gently between his teeth. He breaks this up with kisses and bites and I exhale, eyes fluttering as my head hits the wall.

“Fuck,” I mutter, losing myself in his touch. Hands lowering to his ass, pressing him tight between my legs.

Taehyung chuckles. “Oh?” he murmurs, lips returning to mine. “You want me there?”

I nod, too nervous to say more. “Yes.”

Taehyung kisses me roughly, mouth opening against mine. Tongue flicking over me, hands sliding beneath my shirt. My bra is undone, straps slid from my shoulders. “I’m afraid I’ll need you to say more than that,” Taehyung smiles, pulling back to look at me. “Tell me what you want.”

My eyes widen. “What… what do you want to hear?”

Taehyung stares at me openly, brazenly. “I want to hear what will make you come.”

My mouth dries as, between my legs I feel myself grow wet. “I don’t do dirty talk,” I whisper.

“Don’t?’ Taehyung’s lips lift, becoming a smirk. “Or don’t know how?”

The air thickens between us. “Don’t know how,” I admit, nearly inaudible.

Taehyung smiles. “Then,” he murmurs, hands lifting my shirt. “How about I say what I want?” He lifts my shirt entirely, tossing it to the side. My arms are slid from the bra, as this drops to the ground as well. “I want you on your knees, ass in the air and I want to fuck you until you can’t breathe. How does that sound?”

Taehyung’s hand snakes between my legs, spreading them. “Good,” I moan, nearly breathless at the touch. “I want that, Taehyung.”

Taehyung smirks. “Mm. I knew you were fucking dirty,” he teases, bending his head as his lips find my breast. Other hand tracing the next, flicking as his tongue traces. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted you,” Taehyung murmurs, kissing back up my chest. “How long I’ve wanted to spread you out on your bed and eat your pussy? I bet you’re fucking sweet.”

Taehyung’s fingers tug my jeans, unbuttoning first one button, then the other. He shoves these past the curve of my hips, then my thighs. Leaving me standing in just my underwear. Taehyung takes a step back to survey me. Lacing his hands behind his head, breath coming in uneven motions.

“Fuck,” he groans. I see his erection straining against his pants and Taehyung reaches his hands slowly down, pulling his shirt from his torso.

I can’t quite help the noise that escapes me. “Come here,” I murmur, but he shakes his head.

“No.” Taehyung’s eyes gleam.

I take a step closer. “What I want,” I murmur, dropping to my knees. “Is for you to take off these pants.”

Taehyung stares at me for a moment, slowly undoing a button. Then his zipper before letting my hands take over, pushing the material past his butt, his thighs. Dropping to the ground as he steps free. I remove his boxers the same way, watching Taehyung’s dick spring up, slapping his stomach. I smile, scooting closer. Letting my legs fall to either side.

Slowly, I lick upwards from the base of his cock. Teasing him with my mouth, hands roaming the rest of his body. Sliding behind his thighs, stroking his ass. I take his cock further, swirling my tongue. Taehyung groans loudly, the muscles of his stomach tight. My hand slides down, covering his shaft while my tongue traces over the tip.

Taehyung hisses. When I look back up, his lower lip is between his teeth. Eyes glazed while watching his cock disappear into my mouth. My hands find his balls, massaging as I let him hit the back of my throat. Taehyung exhales shakily, looking down.

“Yes, baby,” he moans, running his hands through his hair. “Fuck, you look so hot with your lips wrapped around my cock. Your mouth is so tight,” he grunts, thrusting forward. “So wet.”

I allow him control, Taehyung’s hand wrapping my hair into a ponytail while he watches through slitted eyes. “Up,” he demands, his cock falling from my mouth.

I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, running my tongue over my finger and swallowing precum. Taehyung’s eyes widen. “Oh, so you don’t do dirty talk,” he mutters. “But you’ll lick my fucking cum off your hand? God, you’re amazing.”

Taehyung lifts me, crushing my mouth to his, pressing his hips forward. When he pulls back, his gaze travels downward. Landing on the lace panties I wear, which only just cover my ass. “Can I see your bedroom?” Taehyung sighs, biting my neck.

I grab his hand, tugging him off down the hall. As I walk, Taehyung presses into me, cupping my body to his. He kisses the back of my neck, hair, hands trailing my sides. Halfway there, he pushes me to the wall. Kissing me roughly, yanking my knee up to wrap around him. He kisses me thoroughly, tongue teasing as he bends to grab my other knee.

Taehyung pulls me upwards, wrapping both legs around his waist. He pushes me against the wall, cock hard between my thighs as I whimper, wanting him inside me. “Taehyung,” I groan, his hands gripping my ass. “I want you to taste me,” I whisper.

Taehyung shivers, as I bite down on his lobe. “Fuck,” he mutters. “I want to taste you. I want to lick your pretty little cunt until you’re trembling.”

“Fuck, Tae,” I grunt, tightening my legs.

He walks us backwards, down the hall until he finds the door to my bedroom. Taehyung steps us both inside, glancing around. “Your bed?”

I shake my head. “Bathroom.”

Taehyung doesn’t question this, walking into the adjoining room. “Now what?” he murmurs, lips pressing gently to my jaw.

I lower my legs, turning to walk towards my shower. I open the glass door, turning the knob until water streams from the faucet. Then I look back, watching Taehyung as I push my underwear past my thighs. Taehyung’s gaze follows, as they hit the floor.

“You coming?” I ask, stepping into the water. Tilting my head back, while the water cascades down my front.

I hear Taehyung’s footsteps approach, hear the door to the shower opening as his hands wrap around me. Lips finding my neck, as his hands dip between my thighs. Taehyung draws in a slow, lazy circle, tracing my sex as I exhale. Taehyung’s erection pressing into me from behind, making me moan.

Taehyung turns me, so that my back hits the wall. His body presses forward, lips fierce and wanting. His hand tangles in my hair, the other reaching sideways. My heart pounds when his hand closes around my shower head. Taehyung switches on the pressure, bringing the device close to my body.

His hand finds the wall, other moving the head between my legs. “What,” Taehyung smirks, kissing my neck. Turning the water pressure higher, as I moan. “Is this too much?”

He sucks at my neck, allowing the shower head higher and harder. I arch against it, unable to contain my swearing when the water vibrates my clit. Taehyung’s hand travels down, tweaking a breast. Teasing until my nipple is firm, hard beneath his palm and he bends his head. Pulling my breast into his mouth as the water pulses below.

I press my hips upwards, playing into Taehyung’s game. My thigh lifts to wrap easily around his leg, allowing better access. “Fuck,” I groan, grinding my hips into the water.

Taehyung drops down to his knees. Pulling the spout away, letting it fall to the floor as he opens my legs. Licking up my sex, then down. Tracing a circle, then another. I moan, eyes tightly closed so I don’t see when he grabs the shower head. Don’t see when he switches the nozzle to jet. Only feel, when he pushes this inside me.

“Taehyung!” I gasp, as his lips tug at my clit, the water pounding into me below. “Fuck,” I moan, clutching hair between my fingertips. Unable to stop from tightening in response. My muscles are shaking, out of control as I fall apart.

Taehyung licks a slow circle around my clit while I orgasm, then withdraws. He tosses the shower head to the side. Staring for a moment before bringing his hands up my legs. Kissing my lips while I exhale, wrapping my arms tight around his neck.

“Are you finished?” he asks quietly, nuzzling his face into my shoulder.

I shake my head. “No,” I murmur, pressing my hips to his. “I want you inside me. Now.”

Taehyung nods. Pulling me out of the shower and grabbing a towel. He drapes this around his neck before drying his body, the motions quick and purposeful. I watch him, cloth disappearing between his legs, around his back. His muscles strain, and then he steps forward to dry me off as well. Fluffing my hair, wiping water pooled at my breasts and thighs.

Taehyung grabs my hand to pull me into the bedroom. Walking in front of me with his perfect ass on display. When we reach my bed, Taehyung sits on the mattress. “Come here,” he demands.

I take a step forward, watching his eyes trace my body. Then I stop. “Tell me why I should.”

The corner of Taehyung’s mouth lifts. “Because,” he murmurs. “I know you want to be fucked. Know you want my cock between your legs, want that pretty pussy of yours given attention. Don’t you want me,” he smirks, “to throw you onto your back and make you scream my name?”

His eyes glint, color wicked as I swallow. “Or you can watch me,” I smile, sliding a hand down my body.

Taehyung sits up straight. “Baby,” he groans, pleading for the first time tonight. “Please come sit on my cock.”

I grin. When I walk within arm’s length, Taehyung grabs me to pull me towards him. Flipping me onto my back while kneeling between my legs. He kisses a path up my legs, one finger already sliding over my entrance.

“Mm,” Taehyung murmurs, spreading my legs further. “You’re already so wet. Your cunt looks fucking tight. So pink and pretty, I can’t wait to fuck you.”

“Why don’t you?” I moan, arching against the bed. “Taehyung, I want your cock.”

Taehyung’s gaze rises to the swell of my breasts, then back down. “No,” he shakes his head. “If you’re going to moan my name in bed, I want you to fucking scream it.”

His lips bend to my sex, tracing circles. Tracing harder, as my hands find his hair. Taehyung spreads me wider, finger slowly pushing inside me. He makes a slow circle, then withdraws. Then pushing back in, driving me crazy.

“Taehyung,” I moan, shifting against him. Pushing my hips up, messily grinding against his face. “Please, just fuck me. I want your cock. I want you to pound me into the mattress.”

Taehyung continues to fuck with his finger, but he moves his mouth away. Rising to kiss my lips, letting me taste me on his mouth. “Condom?” he asks, and I nod.

I reach over to pull one from my nightstand, whimpering when his hand falls from my body. As I hand over the packet, Taehyung rolls it onto his throbbing member. He leans back to survey me, his eyes dark. “Turn around,” he demands. “Ass in the air.”

I obey, turning to lower myself onto my elbows. I shiver, when his hand traces over my butt. Taehyung pushes first one, then two fingers inside me. Stretching my opening, making me moan. “God, how long has it been since you’ve been fucked,” Taehyung murmurs. “Your pussy is so tight. So wet it’s dripping, you’re all over my hand.”

When I turn my head to look, Taehyung licks the juices clean. He bends, trailing a quick circle around my clit from behind. “Is this what you want?” Taehyung murmurs and I feel him pull away, cock sliding teasingly up and down my slit. “You want to be fucked into your mattress?’

I can barely process, when he pushes his tip inside. Stretching me further, widening me farther. Taehyung pushes himself in inch by inch and he’s right – it has been awhile since I’ve fucked. Definitely not this way, with his hands in my hair and cock at my g-spot. Slowly moving himself in and out.

Taehyung’s hands find my ass, caressing gently before he spanks me. I hiss, biting down on my lip and pushing backwards. Taehyung soothes the sting, continuing to thrust with his hips. “Did you like that?” he murmurs, bending to kiss the top of my shoulder.

I push my hips back, forcing my ass into him. “Again,” I groan.

Taehyung smacks my ass again, thrusting as he does so. “You want more?” he grunts, continuing to fuck me. “Ah, I see now. You like being treated roughly. You like not being able to walk in the morning, huh, baby? You want to be full of my dick while I fuck you like a bitch?”

Hearing him call me baby and bitch in the same sentence drives me crazy. He speaks in that low, soothing voice, one hand sliding down my front. Stroking over my sex while his hips ram into me from behind.

“Taehyung, fuck,” I moan, before he pulls out entirely.

“Flip over,” Taehyung demands. He waits until I obey before grabbing my wrists, yanking them overhead and slamming back into me. My legs lift, wrapping around him as he thrusts harder and faster. Kissing me roughly, all tongue and teeth. “I want to see you,” Taehyung groans, hips rising with every thrust. “Want to see your face when you come.”

I nod, barely able to say anything more because I’m already tight. Already on edge, while Taehyung rolls his hips against my g-spot. I’m sure my sheets are a mess beneath me, sure my bed is getting soaked but I don’t care. Taehyung is just as sweaty as I am, back straining as he pounds into my body.

“Even once you come, this isn’t the end,” he groans, biting at my neck.

“No?” I gasp, hands roaming his body. Grasping onto anything I can find.

“No,” Taehyung grunts, fucking harder. “There’s still so much I want to do to you. I want to push your legs apart and eat you out so slowly you scream. Want to fuck you against a wall, slide my thumb inside that tight little ass of yours. Want to tell you what a good slut you are, watch you swallow all the cum from my cock.”

“Oh, fuck,” I groan, as he pulls my knee higher. “Taehyung, I want all of that,” I groan, barely able to see past the pleasure. “I want you to fuck me so hard, I can’t remember my name. God.”

Taehyung shudders, pushing into me, “Come for me, baby.”

I don’t know if it’s him asking, or if I’ve finally reached my edge but I come apart. Shaking, as Taehyung continues to fuck into me. He comes after a few more thrusts, collapsing half-way onto his elbows. Taehyung exhales, kissing my nose. Then upper lip, then lower.

He pulls back to drop on his side, pulling the condom away. “So,” Taehyung says, gaze hesitant as he tosses the condom into the garbage.

I answer by scooting closer. “I figure we should date,” I murmur, brushing hair from his eyes

Taehyung’s gaze lightens. “You do? You don’t think that I’m too – what was it, again?”

“Annoying and arrogant?” I grin, moving forward. Feeling his arms wrap firmly around me. “No, I still think you’re all that. I just,” I pull back to look at him. “I see you. All of you, and I want you.”

“Good,” Taehyung murmurs, leg sliding between my own. “Because I want you too, Y/N.”

“How delightful.”

He chuckles, nuzzling my neck with his nose. “How delicious.”

“De-lovely.”

 Author’s Note: De-Lovely 

#noonanet #kwriterskollection #kpoptrashtag #taehyung smut #bts smut #v smut #taehyung fanfiction #taehyung au #bts fanfiction #bts au #v au #v fanfiction #taehyung #kim taehyung #bts taehyung #bts v

[angeltriestoblog]

I took an online course!

Hello, and welcome to my first proper post under the #quarantingz tag: a little series where I chronicle all of my virtual endeavors and adventures in the time of COVID-19. Through this, I hope to achieve the following (research paper ka, gh0rl?):

Share what I’m doing with all of you guys, since it’s much easier than messaging and video calling you all one by one to confirm that yes, I am alive despite my inactivity on Messenger;

Hold myself accountable so I strive to find ways to keep myself occupied instead of sinking back into stagnancy;

Inspire you to pick up a hobby or try something out while we’re all cooped up indoors! I’ve seen a lot of my friends post that they’ve been getting so bored that even sleeping seems like a chore to them, but the four walls of your room present more opportunities than you think. Let’s try them out together!

And before anything else, it’s worth mentioning that this pandemic is not a productivity contest and we should not feel pressured into making or being the Next Big Thing. But, I believe there’s nothing wrong in seeking structure for one’s self-improvement if your mental health is up for it!

Ok. [START]

During the early weeks of the pandemic, online classes were still ongoing for students at my university, and needless to say, I was not having it. I was already worried enough about the possibility of contracting a life-threatening virus, and on top of that, I had to decipher lessons I could barely understand in a face-to-face set-up, and submit a paper on it that was worth half my grade. But thankfully my university opted to exercise cura personalis—“care for the entire person”, individualized attention to their needs—towards those who lacked the resources needed to keep up with the demands of e-learning. So, they cancelled the rest of the semester! I was filled with relief because as necessary as it might have been to stay on track, it was not an effective way to facilitate learning and retaining of information.

Which is why it’s kind of ironic that one of the first things I did once I realized I had so much free time on my hands was sign up for an online class. *cricket noises*

A friend had sent me a viral listicle of 500 free Ivy League courses. I guess a lot of people had looked at the indefinite quarantine period available at their disposal as an opportunity to learn something new! And well, I couldn’t help but join along, especially since Harvard was my dream school growing up, and they were offering hundreds of programs for me to choose from. (Sorry, Ateneo. I did say otherwise on my application essay.)

Growing up, I had wanted to be an author-doctor-scientist-rockstar-supermodel. I consistently proclaimed this to anyone with ears, whether they liked it or not, with all the conviction my four-year-old body held inside. I hadn't the faintest idea which degrees I needed to get to make a livelihood out of these childhood fantasies, but I figured that if I was going to be a legendary multi-hyphenate, I’d have to come from the best university in the world. I also remember negotiating with my family members from the States that I would have to live with them while I was finishing my college education, not knowing how far their humble home in Orange Country, California was from Cambridge, Massachusetts. Reality inevitably took over—more like, held the reins on my ambitions—and I had to accept that there were several constraints in place that would keep me from studying there despite my desire to.

Well, that was until I chose to take up a course on rhetoric, the art of persuasive writing and public speaking under HarvardX! I picked this out of the several options because I believe learning to separate logic from emotional appeal helps me analyze an argument better and craft more well-informed decisions—definitely a skill we must have in our toolbox given today’s media landscape that is constantly inundated with fake news.

I was to learn about how arguments are structured and how rhetorical techniques are usually employed by dissecting a number of influential and prominent speeches in American history. I then had to apply these learnings in two major written requirements: an opinion editorial and speech, both on any topic of my choice.  

Every morning for a week and a half, I would wake up as early as 9:00AM—just when some people on my timeline are getting ready to go to sleep—and dive straight into my lessons. I decided to take on a module a day since each was pretty packed with information in the form of readings and videos. More often than not, the flow looked like this:

The transcript of an address by a prominent American figure: examples of which are Former Presidents John F. Kennedy and Ronald Reagan, as well as Martin Luther King, Jr. I would annotate this with my first impressions, opinions on any lines and ideas that struck me.

The background of the speaker and the context of the speech: This honestly contributed a lot to my understanding and appreciation of the material. Although I’ve heard of most of them through almanacs I’d read as a kid, I never knew the story behind them.

The key concepts of the module: These consisted of terms and examples, as well as how to make use of them properly and to my advantage. Examples of the topics covered were modes of appeal, kinds of reasoning, and logical fallacies (my favorite).

The transcript, again: For the second round, I would have to spot the concepts that were previously taught to me, in action. When I was fully drained of my brain juice, I had the option to view and respond to the comments of my peers, as well as the lecture notes of my virtual professors. I admit I didn’t get to interact with any of my fellow students: majority of them were from different timezones. I would occasionally creep on the forums, look at the replies my peers would leave, and see I was in the presence of people from Brazil, Mexico, the United Kingdom, and Australia.

Videos of actual lectures regarding the reading, held by the professor: This course is an online version of an existing in-person Harvard class called "The Elements of Rhetoric". Probably the best part of the daily lessons, because it felt like I was also sitting in, watching his students recite from the other side of the room.A quiz on the topics discussed: Very easy, and you get two attempts before you submit your final answer so it’s almost always a sure pass.

As I mentioned a while ago, there are two major outputs to be submitted and they involve a lot of writing and preliminary research. (I personally wouldn’t recommend this to you if you don’t derive pleasure from activities of that sort.) In an attempt to shed a light on a timely issue, I wrote my op-ed on the steps the Philippine government must take to rehabilitate our healthcare sector, and my speech on the use of social media as an effective political tool amid a crisis such as this. The last one was a requirement I had done for my Comm subject, which I tweaked for the sake of formality.

The op-ed was subject to self-evaluation: I had to answer questions on whether my submission met the set criteria or not and give proof as to why I thought so. The speech, on the other hand, was graded by two anonymous peers, who gave encouraging remarks and cited points for improvement. Although I knew I gave my best, my final grade was very much dependent on what they thought of my work so I was a bit nervous. Thankfully, everything went well: I got a perfect score on almost every component and secured a certificate of completion (which I had to pay for, but looks great on my Linkedin, if I do say so myself).

Overall, I enjoyed a lot and found the learnings I picked up to be useful. The ideas might seem abstract but the building blocks of rhetoric pepper even the minutiae of our daily conversations, whether we're aware of it or not. All of us engage in discourse and form our stances on issues using emotion, authority, or hard facts. We elaborate on them by stating the general premise then delving into specific examples, or the other way around. Our last resort tends to be a form of character assassination, faulty generalization, or leading question. The list goes on! I don't think I can speak or listen without policing someone in my head!My response towards this experience is a far cry from how I felt towards my required online classes for school, it's true. But, there are several factors that differentiated both of them.

I was able to choose what I wanted to study. No Quantitative Methods or Computer Science being forced down my throat (although I am revisiting my lessons in those respective subjects after I’m done with everything else I want to do, because I remember my parents paid for those). I am free to invest in areas outside the scope of my degree and gain key insight from the most reputable institutions around the world. I have the luxury to study to test something out, to see if it’s simply a hobby or a potential minor/double degree/career trajectory. If I find out after a few sessions that it’s not my cup of tea, I can easily unenroll and move on. Trying to do that in college would lead to disastrous consequences.

Another thing I liked was the freedom I had to go through everything at my own pace, mull over what I wanted to write for as long as I needed to, rewind and go back to parts in the videos that I liked. Additionally, if I wasn’t in the mood to do anything productive on a certain day (it happens to everyone), I could easily do so without the fear of missing out on anything. I know that a handful of courses do require you to stick to a schedule but everything is still within a reasonable time frame.

Now, I understand that several things are chipping away at our (deteriorating) focus right now. It’s hard enough when school demands so much of our energy—I remember my Quant prof had offered to teach us once via Zoom and though if we were only preoccupied with Netflix and trashtalkan groups back then, we collectively decided to ditch him. But, if you’re determined and committed to learning for leisure purposes, here are some tips that helped me hold myself accountable!

Tidy up, both physically and mentally.

Find a workspace that is conducive to learning. In the absence of a desk in a bedroom, the living room couch or the dining table when no one's eating meals are suitable alternatives. As long as there is a constant source of light, little to no noise, and a simple set-up that minimizes the chances of you leaving your work, it should be perfect!

And while we’re on that note, eliminate distractions. I only had my notebook, pen, and correction tape on the table along with my laptop: I made use of the Forest app regularly as well and now I have a nice collection of various shrubs and trees. I even put my phone on top of the cabinet, God knows my sedentary lifestyle keeps me from exerting the effort needed to stand up and reach for it.

If you aren’t sure that you can devote your full attention to the task at hand, get someone you trust to help you! I update my mom that I’ve been studying and fill her in on my progress not only because I am naturally predisposed to telling her everything going on my life, but also so she can help keep me on the right track and ensure I do my work.

Take it seriously.

Allot a specific time of the day for it. That way, it’s easier to integrate it into your routine and stop you from bailing halfway. For me, it's not advisable to go at it early in the morning, because your mind won't be ready to process anything of that scale. But, it has to be one of the first tasks of the day so you can avoid putting it off in favor of whatever your subconscious feels is more interesting.

Take notes when needed, complete the assigned activities seriously without consulting other sources, and participate in the forums as a substitute for recitation! Be the star student you wanted to be, but were probably too shy to turn into for the fear of being smart-shamed by your peers!

Try to see the purpose in what you’re doing.

In my case, it gave me the motivation to finish it so I could apply it in real-life situations and make the necessary changes in my behavior and habits.

This definitely isn’t the last online course I’m taking: as a matter of fact, I have a couple lined up! I’m currently working my way through something on strategic planning by this website called Culture and Creativity. Although the material has been tailor-fit to address the social and economic development of countries in Eastern Europe, the concepts can easily be utilized in local contexts. Here’s a list of other programs that caught my eye while I was browsing the different catalogs across other platforms.

Investor Pitching Course for Creative Businesses | Culture and Creativity

Applied Psychology: Introduction to Consumer Behavior | Alison Courses

Marketing Analytics | edX

Transformational Leadership | Alison Courses

Global Trends for Business and Society | Class Central

Wishing you all the love and light the world can offer at a time that can be as apathetic and dark as this one. Wash your hands, pray for our frontliners, and check your privilege!

#quarantingz #recs #angeltriestoblog #life dump #online courses

[coleymari-blog]

Cyber Space is Always Sweeter : Chapter 8

Summary: Lucy is a down to Earth, studious, responsible runaway attending Magnolia College. Natsu is a rambunctious, intelligent, pyrophilic fraternity boy going to the same school.

They don’t exactly run in the same circles and they have one hell of a history. What happens when the names and facades disappear and all that’s left are words blinking on a screen? Modern day, College/Pen Pals AU. I’m sorry I suck at intros. Rated M for Language, Adult Situations, and future sexual situations. Chapters 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

"Oh, Lu, you are in so much trouble…"

Levy and Lucy were sitting on the blonde's star-streaked bedspread, watching some stupid crime drama in the background, while they talked about their day. After their text message exchange during lab, the older girl had insisted on the two of them going back to Lucy's dorm after their classes let out for some much-needed girl time. Of course, that had consisted of copious amounts of ice cream and gossip.

"Shut up, Lev," the younger girl barked, swallowing a spoonful of Cookie Dough and vanilla. She could feel the blush creeping up on her again and she quickly dropped her gaze. "Every time he looks at me, he sees some poor pathetic freshman. You can see it in his eyes." The blonde purposefully left out the parts about Natsu's gentle tone of voice and the staring matches, fearing more teasing from her best friend. They'd been analyzing her interaction with the grad student for the past hour, practically since Levy arrived. The bluenette shook her head and chuckled softly, placing her carton and spoon on the wire shelf above Lucy's bed.

"Trust me, girl, there's no way he saw you in that outfit and thought you were anything but hot," Levy teased, earning her a small moon-shaped pillow to the head. Without hesitation, she picked it up and chucked it right back at its sender. "Ah. Proof that you know it's true." Lucy stuck her tongue out childishly before diving back into her ice cream. She felt the blush creeping up her neck and slowly cover her jaw and cheeks as her friend grinned in response.

The freshman sat back against the wall and sighed, leading Levy to believe a change of subject was in order. "Soooo, Lu, have you given any thought about going through Fall Rush?"

Lucy's expression soured slightly and she rolled her eyes. Why would she put herself through that bullshit again? Just so she could be ridiculed and mocked? Told that she wasn't good enough? Put on display for the world to see? "I don't think that's such a good idea…" she replied cooly, shaking her head. "Plus, no one would want me after what happened with those snobs."

"So not true! You could totally join Cait Shelter!" Levy replied excitedly. She looked out through the open door to Lucy's dorm room to see if her roommates were in the shared space before speaking again more quietly. "Millianna and Wendy are both coming to Rush and I know that they have an interest in my Sorority. We both know that you would fit right in with us, Lu."

The younger woman stared back at her friend as if trying to read her. She knew that Levy meant well and that she had a point. Because of Levy she already knew most of the girls in Cait Shelter. She also liked the fact that Levy's sisters stressed the importance of intelligence, strength, and camaraderie. The only downside was the fact that they were very close to the Fairy Tail boys, many of them cycling through each other on a whim. Maybe going through Rush again wouldn't be so bad if it meant being sisters with women like that.

"I don't know Lev, we'll see okay?" Lucy compromised, receiving a beaming smile and a nod from her best friend. At least that meant the end of that conversation for the time being.

Getting up to throw away her empty carton, Levy brushed off her sweater and grabbed her bag from Lucy's desk. "Thank you for acquiescing," the bluenette chirped with a wink. "You know you love me, regardless of how much I harass you. Plus, who are we to say 'No' to Erza?" They both shuddered at the mere thought. With a hug goodbye, Levy took off and left Lucy alone in her dorm.

The blonde sat down at her computer and set to do a bit of writing for her novel. Her mind kept coming back to a certain TA, staring her down from the back of the lab. Her body writhed as she recalled the heat that Natsu's gaze had burned into the back of her neck. Before she could lose herself in her thoughts, the alarm on her e-mail application alerted her to a new message. She couldn't help but smile when she read excitedly.

To: CelestialBeauty42 From: DragonSlayer666 Subj: Bored Bored Bored

Hey Starfire! You there? I'm so bored, will you help entertain me?

-DragonSlayer

"Wait? The same chick that Minerva threw at you?"

Natsu's fist landed a solid hit on Gray's torso, causing the raven-haired man to grunt. They had been going at it in the backyard of the frat house for about forty-five minutes after they'd finished with their lectures for the day and they were both exhausted.

"Aye," the pinket growled, his leg trying to sweep Gray's from under him, only to be blocked and knocked flat onto his back. He picked himself up, his chest heaving, only to have the bout called by his opponent.

Swiping at the sweat that had accumulated all over his naked upper body with a towel from the rack, Gray laughed. "What are you going to do? Avoid her?"

Natsu wiped himself down as well, throwing his towel immediately into the basket by the back door. Honestly, avoiding Lucy had never come to mind. The second he saw her in his lab, all he wanted to do was help her. It was probably due to the fact that he still felt so badly about what had happened over the summer, but it had never occurred to him that he could have made her feel even more uncomfortable.

"Nah, I gave her my card in case she needed help in Chem," Natsu replied, slinging his t-shirt over his chiseled shoulder, the Fairy Tail symbol emblazoned in a fiery red peeking from underneath the black fabric. Gray seemed surprised by Natsu's 'generosity'.

"And she didn't turn you down?" he questioned, opening the door to the house for both of them. They were immediately assaulted by the smell of something delicious and were pleased to find Freed cooking dinner for the brothers. The two of them headed upstairs to get showered and changed so they couldn't possibly be near the back of the line for food.

"Surprisingly, no," Natsu retorted, a sense of pride in his voice. "She took it and smiled. Didn't get to stick around long, I was teaching after all, Ice Princess."

Gray shook his head as they entered their respective rooms to grab their clothes and shower kits, joining his buddy back in the hallway as they made their way to the showers. "Whatever, Lava Breath," he snapped. "Just don't screw it up. You're her TA, man. No need to pull a Laxus, alright?" The grandson of Professor Makarov had almost been expelled from Fairy Tail for sleeping with a student while he was a Teacher's Assistant but luckily the girl, Mirajane, had come to his defense. They were still together if Natsu remembered correctly, not that it mattered to him.

They both entered the shower stalls at the same time but Natsu took a bit longer on purpose. While he was standing in the stream of water, his mind kept drifting to the moment between himself and Lucy at the doorway after class. The way she'd looked at him had sent chills down his spine (in a good way). She wouldn't have looked at him like that if she hated him or something, right? She'd definitely been able to burn through him with her stare before but in that moment? She just looked so...

When he got out of the shower, Natsu made his way to his computer to check his school e-mail. He already had a couple messages from the more over-zealous students looking for advancement opportunities. Nothing that couldn't wait until the next day. Switching over to his personal account, he immediately went to write a new message to his new online friend, Starfire. If he couldn't talk to Lucy, at least he could talk to her.

He received a reply almost immediately, making him smile.

To: DragonSlayer666 From: CelestialBeauty42 Subj: RE: Bored Bored Bored

Might be a bit easier with chat. Add me?

-Starfire

Natsu grinned and jumped at the chance to chat with his mystery online acquaintance, agreeing that it was much easier than email. He clicked onto his messenger list and added the screen name, seeing that she was already online.

DragonSlayer666: Miss me that much, huh? CelestialBeauty42: So much for trying to make it easier.

He laughed when he could practically see her rolling her eyes, whatever they happened to look like. Great, now he was fantasizing about a girl he knew nothing about.

DragonSlayer666: Fine, I'm sorry. Let's talk about something else. How was your day? Did you survive your second day? CelestialBeauty42: Barely. But now I'm home for the night, and I have ice cream. Life could be worse.

Before long, they were at it again, getting lost in conversation with each other. They talked for a couple hours before their chat took a more serious turn.

DragonSlayer666: Are you serious? You told me you were a runaway but you never mentioned any of that. CelestialBeauty42: I lived in an estate up North. It was just me and my dad and he was barely home to begin with. One day during one of his business trips, a few of the household staff helped me gather up some things and a little bit of money in order for me to leave. It's only been a few months, but I love the freedom. I wouldn't give this up for the world. DragonSlayer666: And your dad never noticed? CelestialBeauty42: Haven't heard anything yet, so I'm guessing not.

Just the thought alone broke Natsu's heart a bit. No one deserved to be forgotten by their own father, even a random girl on the internet. His parents had left him but not by choice, getting killed in a car accident when he was just a baby. Luckily he'd been given to Igneel and Grandeena Dragneel to raise and they had done a spectacular job. He'd never felt unloved, not cared for, or forgotten. Poor Starfire...

DragonSlayer666: Well, if it's any consolation, I'll never forget you Starfire. You're way too special. CelestialBeauty42: No one has said something that nice to me in a long time. Thank you, DragonSlayer. DragonSlayer666: Just call me Dragon. I love fire enough to be one anyway. CelestialBeauty42: Haha. Dragon it is. Do you collect treasure and steal young women too? )

Natsu could feel a small blush coming to his cheeks. Was she flirting with him? He was never good at understanding the meaning behind text messages, especially when it came to girls. That was one of the biggest issues Lisanna had with him. But did that mean he should flirt back? How could he even purposefully flirt with her over online chat?

DragonSlayer666: Only when they're reeeeeeally valuable, like something made of starlight. That stuff is hard to come by, you know. CelestialBeauty42: Is that so? Well, in that case, I certainly hope you don't live in some sort of dungeon.

She was flirting with him! Natsu's cheeks glowed bright red as a wide smile came over his face. She hadn't even met him and she was flirting with him. It made him feel good, surprisingly. Granted, Natsu wasn't a stranger to female attention. He wouldn't deny that he was a good looking guy. A lot of the time, it just felt like girls hit on him because he was older, or because he was a TA for their class and they thought he could get them an A. The last girl to be genuinely interested in him as a person was Lisanna.

It wasn't another three hours before they finally signed off and Natsu fell asleep with the same dopey grin on his face that he'd had plastered on all night.

#nalu fanfic #nalu fic #nalu #ft fanfiction #ftfanfics #cyber space is always sweeter #;csias