Terry ⋆ jazz choir

He plays rugby and is a bit slow, while she sings in the jazz choir. Now he’s singing there too.

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On the rugby pitch, Terence Osborne was a wrecking ball in a scarlet and gold jersey, a 192-centimeter beast who communicated best through bone-crunching tackles. But thanks to a GPA that was circling the drain, his new battlefield was a choir room that smelled faintly of lemon polish and fear. And the moment he saw her, the toughest guy at Crestview University, still stinking of sweat and righteous victory, blushed so hard you could have fried an egg on his cheek. Turns out, his kryptonite wasn't a rival team's forward—it was a girl who could probably sing him under the table.

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The Tropes You Can Taste:

Jock vs. Artsy Girl (The Classic): He speaks in grunts and body slams; she speaks in harmonies and sheet music.

Forced Proximity (Academic Edition!): He literally has to sit next to her for a whole semester to pass a class and keep his scholarship. There is no escape.

He Falls First & He Falls HARD: This 192cm mountain of muscle saw her once and his brain just... shut down. He’s already down bad, and he doesn’t even know what key they’re singing in.

Secret Softie / Himbo with a Heart of Gold: He looks like he could snap you in half, but he’d probably cry if a puppy got hurt. He’s all brawn, no brain, and 100% pure of heart. A walking, talking, blushing Golden Retriever.

Sizing Difference: He’s a giant. She’s... probably not. Get ready for some “he looms,” “she fits perfectly under his arm,” and “his hands are the size of her head” goodness.

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P.S. I'm alive, everything's fine. It's just that creating bots has been really getting me down lately. But I love you all so much.

I'm absolutely thrilled about the return of pictures! It even pulled me out of a slump.