#i have to finish one paper and physically bring it to the school on monday so it doesn't really feel like spring break tbh | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

simpsiren · 4 years ago

Text

lee taeyong x reader

description. I liked Lee Taeyong. A lot. And with every book I gave him, whatever purposes, I hid a love letter in between its pages. After all this time, I still wonder if Taeyong has yet to read even one of them.

Tsundoku— buying books and not reading them; letting books pile up unread on shelves, floors, or nightstands.

genre. fluff, angst, love letters!au, friends to lovers!au, one-sided love! au, bartender!taeyong, university student!reader

word count. 12.4k~

warnings. none!

a/n. was randomly scrolling through printerest when i found this word and suddenly this idea popped up in my headd. i had to change the meaning of the word so tha itll fit the story line better but the overall meaning is the same sooo. anyways that’s all i got for you now please enjoyy!

Books. An interest both Taeyong and I shared since college. Though our interest laid in the same object, our uses for it were far from the same. For me, it’s for reading. Like how it should be used, its main purpose. Like any other bookworm, constantly having my head shoved in romance or fantasy novels. Taeyong on the other hand, he... he uses it as decoration. Something that to him, should be kept on shelves, unread for display purposes.

I got to find out quite quickly that it was a habit for him to collect books that had nice spines just so he could place them on his shelves. I’ve been to his home once. One entire wall was just shelves filled with books. It was aesthetically pleasing indeed, but it disappointed me that he didn’t even bother to read a single one. So we made an agreement that I’d read his books. If he were to buy a new one, he’d let me read it first before tucking it away to never be pulled out again. I guess that’s why my friendship with him worked so well.

Taeyong decided to work as a bartender after college while I, went to pursue my studies with university. Should say that I regretted that on-impulse decision of mine nowadays.

It’s Friday. I just got out of university, at one in the morning. What an ungodly hour, considering that my classes started at nine this morning. I agreed to meet Taeyong at his bar. Luckily for me, the distance between school and the bar wasn’t far. Taeyong took me as a factor into consideration while trying out jobs around the school’s area, just so he’d get to meet me more often. That, was one of the million reasons why I fell for him.

I dragged my feet across the side walk, the screeching of my boots scraping against the rough surface. As much as I tried to hold up my posture during my long trip there (it felt like I’ve been walking forever when really, it has only been ten minutes), my back slowly slouched with each step till I was fully slouching. The extremely poor and back paining kind. Can’t blame me. University is mentally draining, but physically as well, having to walk to different classes constantly that’s being situated on opposite ends of the facility. It’s a workout.

I looked up to take a breather, seeing the glowing sign above the bar. I gazed down, to the glass windows, noticing how there was a lot of people in there. Well, it’s a Friday night afterall. I placed my free hand onto the door’s handle, pushing it open and entering.

Classical music played in the background. People’s murmurs could be heard as they had their own conversations. The place was dimly lit with an orange hue; a calming atmosphere. I went right up to the bar, getting on an empty cushioned stool and adjusting my butt onto it. I looked around the area. Taeyong wasn’t to be seen. I only assumed that he was making drinks.

I took out my book from my tote bag, flipping to the page where I folded it’s edge to continue where I left off. I was already two third done with it. And I was determined to finish it by Monday just so that I could get a new book to read.

My head was faced down, eyes scanning each sentence as I blocked out the entire world, putting myself in my own little bubble as I imagined myself in the story’s plot, too immersed to give a single care for my surroundings.

Suddenly, a hand appeared beside me, tapping its knuckles against the wood to get my attention. I lifted my eyes up, seeing Taeyong standing in front of me. White button up shirt, three buttons unhooked, revealing the slightest bit of his collarbones in a way to tease you and having the urge to see them fully. Black dress pants with a belt that cinched on his waist, framing his lower body beautifully.

“Literally called you from two steps away and you didn’t hear any of it.” Taeyong leaned against the counter, elbows supporting him as his face got close to mine. “I was busy.” I said, lifting up my book slightly. “You done with that? I need to put a new book on the shelve soon. It bugs me that there’s an empty spot.” Taeyong shivered as he mentioned that, making me chuckle softly.

“By Monday, I promise.”

“Need anything to drink? You look worn out.” Taeyong eyed me up and down. I probably looked terrible since Taeyong scrunched up his nose and shook his head. “You know I don’t drink. I mean I can, but it’s still the school term. I can’t afford getting off track by anything.”

Taeyong breathed a short laugh in response. “Ah of course. Didn’t you say you wanted to dropout just yesterday?” Taeyong looked up for a moment before bringing his eyes back down on me with a teasing gaze. My mind went back to yesterday when I texted Taeyong a long ranting paragraph about how stressed I was this week. I frowned. “Should I?”

Taeyong bobbed his shoulder. “It’s up to you. But I sincerely think you should. I mean look at you.” He added a light scoff at the end, his hand going up and down in front of me. “I’m just worried.” He proceeded to shift his weight form one leg to the other, sliding his fingers into the pocket of his pants. I felt his sense of sincerity, invariably imbued. Another reason why I fell for him. He’s always caring, too caring for his own good, especially towards me.

“Will think about it.” I mumbled, taking note of my book’s page number since I was too lazy to fold it before closing and shoving it back into my tote bag. “Anyways, when are you getting off work?”

Taeyong turned around to grab something. I realised it was his wallet and phone as he shoved the wallet into his back pocket and kept his phone in his hand. “Right now.” He flashed his smile. The signature smile. One he has on ninety percent of the time, at least around me. It was unique. A smile that only suited him and not anyone else. He owned it . Like he should. Yet another reason why I fell for him.

I got off the stool as he went around the counter that had the space in between for staffs to pass through. “Want me to drive?” He asked as we made our way to the door. I shook my head. “You had a long day. Just go home.” I kindly rejected. I bowed my head as he opened the door for me. A gentleman; adding onto the long list.

“You had an even longer one. I don’t care. It’s late too. I can’t let you walk home alone.” I laughed weakly, waiting for him outside as he closed the door. As we make our way to Taeyong’s car, he whispered, “Sleep straight when you get home, okay?” He opened the car door for me. I nodded, “Yes father.” I dragged on.

The car ride home was silent. Completely silent. There wasn’t even music playing in the background. I had my eyes fixed on the view out of the window, too scared to look at Taeyong as I can’t bare to look at him long enough before I melt on sight.

My apartment came to view after the many trees and street lights we drove past. The car pulled to a halt and I turned to Taeyong, who was suddenly up close to me, one hand looming over my chest as he reached for the seatbelt. I possibly stopped breathing. His eyes looked into mine, expressionless. I couldn’t even blink I was that shocked. “Sorry. I thought you were sleeping.”

Taeyong pulled back to his seat. I exhaled sharply. I looked to the seatbelt. He didn’t unbuckle it. I huffed quietly and did it myself, sliding my tote bag onto my shoulder. “Remember. Sleep right away.” He advised a second time as I make my way out of the car, slamming the car door shut.

Before I turned around, he rolled down the window, leaning forward slightly. “And my book!” He shouted. I placed two fingers up my head and pointed it back at it as a way to say, “Yes sir.” Before swirling around and walking away, his car’s engine starting up and driving away. The noise was quick to get muffled and go away as he drove further out of the neighborhood.

The hours of studying I had to do at home went by quick. Before I even knew it, I didn’t sleep that night at all. Unfortunately, I didn’t listen to Taeyong. I had assignments to complete by Monday for God’s sake. I’ve come to terms with the fact that the number of times I’ve pulled all-nighters are now inhumane.

I checked the time on my clock. 5:05AM. I sighed, looking across my study table that’s pilled with worksheets and my opened laptop. I nodded my head as I made the mental decision of finally cleaning up as I rechecked to see if I’ve left any work undone before beginning to stack the papers and shoving them into my tote bag. The only thing left on the table was a stack of decorative papers, with beautiful outlines of red roses around the edges.

I slid one paper off the stack, placing it in front of me. I grabbed a random pen from my organiser, clicking it as I swirled it around, trying to figure out what to write.

Hey taeyong. This is my 127th love letter, confession letter, whatever you would call it. I’m not sure if you’ve read any of them. My last note was in ‘It Ends with Us’. I find that you aren’t giving any reaction or anything. I know you don’t read the books but do you even bother flipping through its pages for the letter to fall out? I’m still hoping you’d at least open this one. Please. I’ve been waiting for ages. For you. I like you, Lee Taeyong, for the 127th time.

I placed my pen back to where it belonged before holding the note in my hand, lifting it up to my face. I bit my bottom lip before opening my book, randomly opening a page and placing the note in, making sure it’s secured before putting that into my tote bag as well. Too lazy to even get into my bed, I fell asleep uncomfortably at the table.

It was now Sunday. I almost forgot the fact that I’m meeting Taeyong today to pass him the book, which to be honest, I didn’t finish. The book was boring. It was like those books that you force yourself through so you wouldn’t feel the regret of buying it. Though I used Taeyong’s money, I still felt bad for leaving it unread. I wasn’t like Taeyong at least.

While thumbing through my closet to find something to wear after showering, my eyes stopped at the sweater that Taeyong borrowed me not too long ago because I was dumb enough to meet him at two in the morning without a jacket. I was frozen stiff due to the cold.

Absentmindedly, I took it off its hanger and brought it close to my chest, dipping my head down as I deeply inhaled, Taeyong’s scent was still on there. I put it on and continued getting ready.

Just when I was done placing my valuables in my sling bag, the doorbell rang. Thinking it was the mailman, I rushed to the door with immense speed. I opened the door forcefully. But instead of the mailman, I was met with Taeyong standing in front of me. We locked eyes for a split second, which made my heart leap. I then eyed him up and down. He was wearing his usual all black outfit. Shirt, jeans, and boots. I liked how the plain and simple outfit was able to cup his body well, accentuate all his body features. It always made me swoon for him.

“What are you doing here?” I noticed how Taeyong kept eyeing his sweater that’s on me despite his attempts at trying to remain eye contact with me. “I thought of just letting you give me the book now and spend the day here. Can I?” No wonder he wore a regular outfit.

“So I dressed up for nothing?” I feigned my exasperation, folding my arms as I cocked an eyebrow, huffing ever so softly. Taeyong followed my poster one on one. “And wearing my sweater is called dressing up? How lovely.” It was now his turn to fire back, which made me frown. “Whatever.” I gave in, turning around to head back to my room.

I heard the door closing as Taeyong’s footsteps were quick to follow closely behind, maybe due to the large steps he took with his long legs. As I entered my room, Taeyong lets out a hum of satisfaction. “Your shelve’s looking good. More full than last time.” He complimented. I took a seat at the study table as he made his way to seat at the edge of my bed. “Mhm.” I softly answered.

With the remembrance of what he came here for, I grabbed my tote bag and fished out for the book. I then toss it onto the bed beside Taeyong, not speaking a word as I jerked my head to it. “Thanks. You read fast.” Taeyong held the book in his hand. Open it, open it. Oh God why can’t he just find the damn note I placed there?

“No I don’t. It’s just that the book was extremely boring for my liking.” I stated, matter-of-factly. Taeyong examined the book, quickly turning it over to read the synopsis. “Ew.” He mumbled.

“It was only good at first. The ending sucked.” I added on to my complains. “By the way...” Taeyong trailed on. I wonder what he wanted to ask. Was it something about the book? About the notes?

“I’ve been thinking I should read one of the books.” I folded my arms with arrogance, slouching into the chair as I tilted my head, the side of my lip lifted up slightly. “So after more than four years I was able to reel you in to read your first book?” I questioned, sounding smug.

Taeyong let out an annoyed ‘tsk’. “I find ‘If I never met you’ interesting, okay? Let me be.” Taeyong pouted and folded his arms, turning his head away from my direction. I stood up, walking to the bed and plopping myself down which made the two of us bounce up and down of a moment. “It’s cute how you’re a newbie to reading.” I made up an excuse when really what I found cute was how Taeyong acted. It made me blush a bright pink. It was probably extremely noticeable when Taeyong suddenly mentioned, “Did I make you so proud that you’re now blushing?” Taeyong teased, a giggle following after.

“Oh shut up.”

Lee Taeyong. This is the 128th letter. I still remember the first one I wrote. Feeling so hopeful and acting like a little girl that’s too shy to confess up front. I’m still like that. Yet to physically hint at you about my feelings. I can only express them like this, through notes that could all end up being meaningless if you’ve never looked at them. I’ll come by your house today. I’ll probably slide it in between books instead of pages. I long for your love, the kind that’s much more than that of a friend. I’ve been holding on for so long. Perhaps too long. But it’s okay, you’re Lee Taeyong. I won’t let the feelings I’ve bottled up for years go to waste. I’ll do something... soon. Yes, soon.

Later that day, I made my way to Taeyong’s house. I asked him to stay at home so that I could surprise him by coming over. But the reaction that I expected from him was way too predictable.

“You could’ve just told me to pick you up!” Taeyong whined. There he goes again being way too caring. Stop it. It’s hurting me.

“It’s not that troubling to travel, Yong. Calm the heck down! It’s really nothing.” I shouted back, reassurance being imbued into each word. He made way for me to enter. And as I did, I walked slowly, long strides to the living room where the large bookshelf was placed. The one that covered the entire wall. Well, almost, since he made space for the television. Other than that, it was just books surrounding it.

“Wait.” I turned around sharply. I realised that my sudden action made Taeyong stop in his tracks instantly. But he was close to me. Way too close for my own good. We stayed there for a moment, exchanging blank stares while I took the time to remember this moment; my heart stopping, his tall figure looming over me, his eyes looking into mine as if he’s trapping me in his gaze. Moments like these happen often. And I’d often take the time to remember them, shoving them into a mental folder called ‘Head over heels for TY’.

“Sit down. I’ll... get the cheesecake.” Taeyong was the first to back out, taking a step away from me and chuckling awkwardly. He quickly turned away after avoiding my eyes and rubbing the back of his neck. He looked nervous. But why? If I have seen it correctly, it looked like his cheeks were ever so slightly red as well. What even...

I shook my head vigorously, throwing those thoughts out of my mind. I sat down on the brown leather couch, leaning back and allowing my body to sink into it. Somehow, the thoughts crept back in. I thought about how what I observed just now could not have been real. It’s Lee Taeyong. Hundreds of girls are always hitting on him at the bar during his shift. He might even be seeing someone. Wait why am I even saying that to myself? I’d end up feeling jealous with no real reason. Great, you’re a dumb one indeed.

I felt Taeyong’s weight beside me. I looked up from the table, realising now that I was in a trance of my own thoughts, and to the cheesecake that he placed down. He leaned forward to cut a slice, placing it on a small plate as he placed the fork down beside it and handed it to me. “Here. Bought it especially for your brain recovery, and cravings. You’re period came, right?”

My eyes widened. My brows furrowed and got closer to each other as I backed my head away in surprise. “How’d you even know?” I asked shockingly. Taeyong lets out a chuckle, bringing his plate up and taking a bite. “I know you long enough to know that your period’s consistent and is usual around this time. But I was just taking my chances. I know you’d still eat the cheesecake either way.” Taeyong flashed a cheeky smile.

I knew he was extremely considerate towards me. He’d always advise me to take breaks, giving me a shoulder to lean on when I need rest, coming over to comfort me till sunrise whenever I texted him a ‘feel depressed lmao.’ He’s always on standby, ready to assist me when I need him, for whatever reason. Even if he wasn’t there, he was somehow able to choreograph his silent dance of support. But I never knew he was this meticulous to take note of my habits, my favourite food and even my period. He knew everything about me at the back of his hand. He really does make me feel some type of way. Perhaps a feeling far beyond love. An unknown feeling that only I could experience since it’s Taeyong. It’s always him. Always have been, and always will be.

I grabbed a big bite, scooping it in my mouth and moaning out dreamily, letting myself sink into the cheesecake and its flavours like a bath. “Fuck this is good. Where’d you get it?” I questioned with immense curiosity. I was genuinely curious. Because I’d love to get more.

Taeyong raised both his brows, his lips forming a thin line as he gave a slightly awkward or nervous cheeky smile. I couldn’t quite tell. “I made it.” He whispered. “No way!” I instantly take another bite, this time with Taeyong in mind. I mean, he already was from the moment he gave me the plate, but with now knowing that he was the one that made it? It suddenly tasted a thousand times better.

“Fucking bake more! Why haven’t I known that you can bake?!” I screamed with excitement. I finished the first slice, now on my way to tackle a second. Taeyong laughed hilariously at my reaction. “Is it that good? It’s my first time trying the recipe.”

“I know you cook like you’ve cooked for me many times but what the heck you should to do this more often. I’d eat it whole.” I squealed as I savoured the cheesecake’s flavours.

“If it’s for you then I’d gladly do it.”

Once again I felt the kindness and love through his voice and tone that’s ever so sweet and gentle. I’d imagine that this was how angels sounded like. Taeyong has always been able to put me at instant peace with just his words alone. Be it through the phone or in person. I always felt calm and protected.

It amazed me just what love could do to you. Everything they do now seemed perfect and beautiful, you blind yourself with their beauty and everything that’s good in them. In Taeyong’s case, I’ve never seen the bad side of him, shockingly enough. I’ve been friends with him for more than five years yet there wasn’t any argument between us that made a major impact on our relationship, if you don’t count those when I wouldn’t talk to him for only one day but we’d be able to act normal after.

We ended up spending the evening watching Netflix. We’ve been through two movies now. The cheesecake was now fully finished as well, down to its crumbs. “Want me to cook dinner?”

“I’m fine with anything.” I blinked my eyes once and a soft smile appeared on my lips. Taeyong hummed softly and nodded his head as he made his way to the kitchen, the sound of his slippers can be heard as he shuffled away.

I laid down on the couch, using my phone. A thought suddenly popped in my mind. I instantly peeked my head above the back rest, seeing Taeyong’s back in view as his body swayed slowly by the stove. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. He ran a hand through his hair. How can a man look this... amazing. I can’t think of any other ways to describe Taeyong at that moment. Boyfriend material? Stunning? Breathtaking? All of the above.

As much as I wanted to stare at his figure, I had another agenda I had to accomplish before getting back to it. I rose from the couch, slowly and quietly, taking the note out of my sling bag. I walked up to the overwhelmingly large bookshelf. I scanned it carefully, trying to figure out where to place it.

“What are you doing?” I turned instantly at Taeyong’s voice. He was a few steps away from me, two plates of pasta in his hands. He turned around to place them on the table.

I took this chance to quickly slide the note into the shelve. One edge of the note was sticking out. Shit. It wasn’t obvious but it’s still there. I didn’t have any time to adjust it when Taeyong faced his body back to me.

“Just looking. The fact that I’ve read all these books... I’m such a bookworm for reading this much.”

“That’s what I like about you.” I was eyeing the pasta when Taeyong blurted that out. It was quick and soft, I couldn’t make out the words. I could only infer. “What?” I asked purposely, just to see if he’ll answer.

“It’s nothing.” Taeyong shoved a spoonful of pasta into his mouth, adverting his gaze on anything else but me.

I thought about how weird he was acting. It’s the first time I’m noticing that Taeyong’s been acting... wary, cautious of his every move around me. Just as I thought about how he’s clueless and delusional about my feelings for him, it could have been the same for me.

Luckily (Thank the Gods kind of lucky), classes ended early today. And Taeyong told me to meet him at his dance studio. For what reason? I wasn’t actually sure. I headed there, passing by the many other practice rooms till I saw the number that Taeyong told me. I opened the door, seeing Taeyong and two other guys I’m unfamiliar with. All of them turned their heads to me in unison, Taeyong blinding me with a bright smile while the others looked to each other with confusion.

“You came!” Taeyong squealed, running up to me and hugging my tightly. He was extremely sweating. I would try to push him away, but he probably wouldn’t let go and let me suffocate. Thankfully, he didn’t and pulled away, grabbing my wrist and dragging me to the other two guys.

“Ten, Mark. This is my friend, _____. I wanted her to come so that we’ll have an audience to show our piece.” Taeyong explained to them freely as he pointed to Ten and Mark respectively, an arm swung around my shoulders. I bowed my head amicably with a smile while they did the same. “You never told me you have a girlfriend, Taeyong.” Ten teased, lightly punching Taeyong’s chest. I couldn’t help but blush a light pink. I swallowed and looked up to him, who had a nervous and shy face on, which I didn’t expect at all.

“We’re best friends, please.” Taeyong denied, no hesitation whatsoever. In my head I wanted to frown but I had to keep a smile on.

“Hey, Ten. Wanna get Starbucks?” Mark suddenly asked, looking at him with a wicked grin as if he’s hinting to Ten about something. Ten was quick to respond, nodding his head with affirmation. “Yeah. I’m thirsty. You should just stay here with her. Need js to get anything?” Ten trailed on while the two of them began to take their wallets out of their bags that were at the back of the practice room.

“You guys are really going all the way to Starbucks that’s a fifteen minute walk from here?” Taeyong asked, extremely shocked. I did walk past Starbucks on my way here, and it is indeed extremely far. What the heck were they trying to do by leaving so abruptly?

“Eh it’s fine. Well we’ll leave you to it! Peace!” And just like that, Ten and Mark have left and it was now just me and Taeyong. The two of us turned to each other and chuckled at the same time. “Come on show me your dance!”

“It’s a duet that I’m doing with Ten. Can’t dance if he’s not here.” I looked up for a moment, thinking. “Dancer by day. Bartender by night. That’s Lee Taeyong.” I spread my hands out with jiggling my fingers as if showing a rainbow and mimicking stars. Taeyong laughed and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Broke university student by day, author by night. That’s _____.”

I looked at him weirdly, eyes narrowing at him as I furrowed my brows. “How am I an author?”

“Eh I just assume you’re one since you’re such a bookworm.” Taeyong fakely rolled his eyes but flashed a cheeky smile after. I smiled back and got closed to him, both hand resting on my hips as I rested my weight on one leg. “So what are we gonna do mister dancer?” I asked with the tone of a child, making me laugh after from how ridiculous I sounded.

Taeyong proceeded to take my tote bag off my shoulder, putting it off to the side with the other bags while he grabbed his phone and went to Spotify. “Let’s dance.” He suggested with confidence. He played a song. It’s one of my favourites. A song that didn’t make me think twice to bob my head to, which I instantly did. “I haven’t danced in years and you know that.”

Specifically, it was six years ago. I used to dance in highschool as extra curricular thing. But in college I started to dance less frequently, and my dance friends and I slowly grew distant. But I was okay with it. I mean, it’s life. The world still had to spin no matter the situation.

“Come on I know you have it in you. Just vibe.” Taeyong swayed his shoulders up and down slowly, grooving to the beat as his whole body began to work its magic, his dancing was at the level of professional ones. I never know why he didn’t want to pursue dance as a career and became a bartender instead.

I slowly moved my body in a weird way. Not dancing for years, your body is bound to be uncomfortable and you’d be looking weird as you move. Which was definitely me. Taeyong laughed at me, making me frown and stopped dancing. He huffed with a smile and held both my hands. Instantly, my legs and body moved in sync with his. It felt amazing dancing with Taeyong. It was fun and carefree. I could dance as stupidly as I want and even though Taeyong could pull off the best dance moves, he’d still choose to dance stupidly along with me. He was able to serve himself as a guidance as I found my groove and vibe that I didn’t have in me for a long time.

When the music stopped, Taeyong’s hands where on my waist, while I had mine on his arms. We turned to the mirror and giggled, throwing out heads back happily.

“You still got it.”

“Make sure to find the ones with pretty spines.”

Taeyong and I decided to head to bookstores today for our monthly book shopping. And while I was carefully reading the synopsis of books that had an interesting title, Taeyong was busy examining their cover pages and the aesthetics, mostly the spine.

“Have you started on the book you told me about?” I asked, flipping the book I just took out to its first chapter to get a feel of the writer’s writing style. “I have, actually.” My head shot to him instantly. He’s read the book. But I remembered putting the note in the back pages of the book. Has he reached there yet? “But I’m a slow reader. And busy. I’m only at the third chapter.”

As much as I was surprised about the fact that he’s speed in reading was extremely slower than what I would consider normal, I couldn’t blame him. He’s body with work most of the time and he has a life to live. Not to mention how it’s the first book he’s actually reading. This is a good example that the gap in terms of our reading abilities are definitely big.

“Liking it so far?” I asked. “Yeah.” Taeyong simply replied as he took a book off the display. “I’m getting this. And these as well.” He giggled like a happy child who’s buying a bunch of toys as birthday present from his parents. He lifted the books up slightly, fiddling around and trying to stack them properly while I closed the book that was in my hands. “I’m just buying this.”

“Seriously? Oh wait nevermind you’re a broke university student.” Taeyong taunted, rolling his eyes. My mouth opened slightly, faking my exasperated as I huffed loudly. “Okay mister bartender. You didn’t have to rub-”

“Oh my God. Taeyong?!”

In unison, the two of us turned around to the noise. A girl was running up to us. The moment she came, she didn’t hesitate to hug Taeyong around his torso. Taeyong chuckled, almost awkwardly and hugged her back.

I took a quick look at them. Their hug made a few things clear to me. One, she’s probably known him for a long time. But if she has, why didn’t Taeyong told me about her before? He shares all his secrets, I pretty much know him from A to Z. So why hasn’t he mention her before? Second, Taeyong was quick to reciprocate the hug, from his awkward form to a loving one. They looked like a couple that hasn’t seen each other in ages; a meaningful reunion.

I wasn’t exactly happy with where this was going. I didn’t like how in an instant, she could simply let herself be in such close proximity with him. I’ve never hugged Taeyong for that long at all. It made me feel a couple of things. Jealousy? Judgmental? Sudden hatred towards her? But why should I? It felt so invalid of me to feel these things.

“It’s been years, Taeyong.” She chuckled happily as they pulled apart. Finally. “Who’s she?” Her finger lifted up to me.

“A friend.” Taeyong answered. Of course, Why did I think I’d be any more than that? Just a friend. We’re just friends. Just.

While they were having a chat about who knows what, I wasn’t exactly paying attention since I simply assumed that it was to catch up with each other. I wondered off to another section of the store. After browsing through a few books, it was then I realised that they weren’t no longer in the store anymore when I got back. They left, Taeyong left. Without telling me. It was my fault for leaving the scene discreetly since I felt like my presence wasn’t needed in their bubble at the time, but why did Taeyong not come find me? Was I... simply forgotten?

I went straight home that day after cashing out the books. I didn’t know where Taeyong went after leaving that that girl, but I didn’t want to act like some busybody who asks something that isn’t her business. I got texts from Taeyong asking if I left yet. Was he planning on returning there after leaving for two hours? He actually expected me to wait. Unbelievable.

After that day, my meetups with him became less frequent. He occasionally replied to my texts. More like one sentence after four or so hours. He still updates his socials. And it was all about her. Photos, videos. They were hanging out together more often. For some reason, it felt like she was a replacement; my replacement. I somewhat distanced myself away from Taeyong thinking, “I assume you don’t need me anymore so I’ll stay out of your way.”

But one day, out of pure curiosity, I decided to follow them to a cafe. Taeyong did text me that he’d be heading there, but I left him on seen. Like I said, I’m slowly removing myself out of his picture.

I sat at the corner of the cafe, black jacket, black cap and large black sunglasses. I looked like a stalker in the eyes of strangers. I mean, I was.

I covered myself further by holding up a book to my face. As I continuously stared at them, I grew bored. Don’t get me wrong, I was feeling negative. I didn’t like how she’s teasingly touching Taeyong’s arm, how they laughed happily together and chatting as if they’re in their own little world. But I started to wonder why I even came here. I did want to see what they’re like. But I’m making myself feel more bad this way.

I decided to write a note. I was done with the book I’m currently holding. All I needed to do was give it to Taeyong. With the note. I took out a random piece of paper from my tote bag, fishing out for a pen as well and began to write.

It’s my 145th letter. Fuck how long am I going to do this? Might sound weird, but I’m currently looking at you. Watching you with her. Why does it feel like you’re happier with her? You’re smiling, laughing more. You’re more brighter. I mean you have always been bright. But you just... radiate differently; a new type of glow I never knew you had. I saw your socials, constantly posting about her. I’m jealous, very. I want to be like that with you. But it just feels wrong, perhaps not right. Like I shouldn’t be craving for you. For your touch, your whispers, giggles. Why do I feel like this? The more you spend time with her, the more I realise that my chances of getting you is slowly slipping away from my grasp. But why can’t I move? Why don’t I want to move? I’m not sure what’s stopping me. And that’s what I’m fearing the most.

I felt my cheeks getting wet. It took me awhile to realise that I was balling my eyes out, slowly and painfully. I took off my sunglasses for a moment to wipe off excess tears before putting them back on. I can’t belive I’m crying. I looked down to the note. A tear fell onto it, a spot crinkled as it left a visible mark of my feelings. Just as I was sniffing, constantly having to wipe my cheeks dry since my tears were getting uncontrollable, I looked out the window. And what stood on the opposite side shocked me.

I knocked on the glass, his head turning quickly. He looked around inside the cafe, not sure of where the signal came from. I knocked once again. He looked down on me and I took off my sunglasses, pulling down my hood.

“Nakamoto Yuta?” I mouthed to him, my lips moving widely so he could read them. His eyes blinked rapidly and he leaned in before widening them after realising who I was. We take a few of the same classes. I see him often in school. But we never really talked. He immediately rushed into the cafe, covering his face as if hiding his identity and running up to my table to take a seat.

“Why were you looking in like some stalker?” I asked, pulling my hood back over my head as I lowered myself, my eyes still fixated on Taeyong.

“You look more like one than I do.” Yuta commented. I notice how he was constantly turning around, specifically to Taeyong’s direction. “You haven’t answered my question.”

“I’m looking at them.” He pointed his finger out ever so slightly. And as I predicted, he was referring to Taeyong and the girl. “You know Taeyong?” I immediately asked, extremely curious as to why he was spying on them just like I was. “No, but I know Jiung.” So that’s her name. Pretty name for a pretty girl. Of course.

“And why are you doing that exactly?” Yuta let out a huff, leaning in with his elbows on the table, his shoulder rising up to his ears. “Because I want to see what they’re on about. I keep seeing her with that Taeyong guy. I like Jiung so I’m jealous.” I puckered my lips and nodded. My face showed as if I shrugged it off. But my mind began turning its gears. So he likes Jiung and he’s jealous of them together? He has the same reason of me coming here as well. What forces swirled around the world for us to come together like this? It’s weird how coincidentally the situation was.

“I actually came for the same reason as you. I like Taeyong, and I’m jealous of Jiung.” I frowned slightly, a sigh leaving my lips. I opened up to him quick about my situation since I felt a sense of similarity with him. He probably wouldn’t remember anyways. It’s not like we’ll be crossing paths in the future.

“Were you crying? Your eyes are hella puffy.” He asked suddenly. I breathed out a laugh awkwardly. I gulped and cleared my throat, thinking that I should shove all my feeling down so I wouldn’t look even more ridiculous in front of Yuta. “Yeah.” I quickly slid the note in between a random page.

“Funny how we met here. For the same reasons. It’s like fate.” I couldn’t agree more. “An idea just came to my mind.” Oh no.

Yuta has always been the class clown, saying out his ideas that were completely mind blowing and far fetched. His way of thinking is... unique, in a funny way. I got somewhat nervous after he said that sentence, you can never guess what he’s thinking about or get a clear grasp of the way he thinks.

“How about we try splitting them up?” I didn’t reply, his words slowly resonating in my mind. He can’t be serious, right? But why am I slowly being persuade by an unknown force?

I have yet to say a word, my eyes still on them as I was deep in thought, wondering about all the possible outcomes of me agreeing and disagreeing, weighing them carefully so that I could make the more beneficial decision.

“Come on. You’ll get to be with Taeyong more. And I’ll have Jiung. Win-win situation, right?”

I sighed, inhaling as my chest puffs up.

“Alright.”

Yuta: How’s it going?

Me: amazingg :D

“Who are you texting?” Taeyong asked, I placed my phone down to the side, screen faced down. “No one.”

This is the sixteenth outing with Taeyong after that day. I was able to spend time with Taeyong a lot more, just like before. And probably just like it should. I’ve seen Yuta posting more often on his Instagram stories, mostly of him and Jiung. Our plan of keeping them apart is working. Though Yuta told me that it was Jiung who’s constantly asking to meet up with Taeyong, he was able to force her to hang out with him instead, giving her no chance whatsoever. It was extremely helpful.

I know this whole situation sounds as if I’m being evil or whatever you call it. But why wouldn’t I accept a chance to be closer to Taeyong?

“Should we head to the carnival after this? Or desserts first? Oh I want to head to that new ice cream shop! Ten said it’s delicious but extremely crowded. I don’t mind waiting since I’ll have you to annoy.” Taeyong rambled on. I laughed happily, taking in this moment. I want to treasure such simple moments like these. I want it to be in a snow globe; something remembered forever.

“Do anything you please, Yong.” I chuckled, flashing an eye smile.

Just then, the bell above the restaurant’s door opened, signalling a new costumer coming in. Taeyong widened his eyes at the door. I tilted my head at his weird action, turning around to see just what made him react that way.

“Jiung?” “Yuta?” The two of us whispered at the same time.

Jiung’s eyes immediately went to Taeyong, her face lighting up at the sight of him as she tried to make her way over. But Yuta stopped her by the shoulders. I now understood what Yuta meant by saying, “She’s so attracted to him.”

While Jiung was struggling to eacape Yuta’s strong grasp, Taeyong was halfway off his seat. I immediately reached a hand to place on his arm. “Where you going?” I asked, faking a smile when in reality I was getting nervous.

“Wanting to say hi to Jiung.” Taeyong was about to alide himself off his seat so I grabbed his arm, trying to stop him in the most natural way possible. “I don’t think you should. She seems busy.” I tugged on his arm slightly, an attempt to get him to sit back down. “But it looks like she’s struggling. I- Wait here.” Taeyong noticed how I was trying so hard to stop him from leaving. He raised a brow and shook my hand off in an instant, his strength powering over my desires.

I followed behind him. Taeyong forcefully removed Yuta away from Jiung and Yuta’s eyes immediately glanced to mine. Both of us sending nervous signals to each other in that split second. “What the hell were you doing to her?” Taeyong growled lowly, his voice and tone suddenly growing dark as he held Jiing’s wrist, his body standing in front of hers as if he’s protecting her.

“I was just getting her out of the restaurant since it’s quite packed.” Yuta awkwardly replied with an excuse. “No you were purposely stopping me from going to Taeyong.” Jiung fought back. I stood there frozen, watching by the sidelines as nervousness started rising in me. Are they going to find out about my plan with Yuta?

“I think it’s just a misunderstanding. You two can go now.” I ripped Taeyong’s tight hold around Jiung’s wrist, dragging him back to stand beisde me. “I just want to chat with Taey-”

“I don’t think that’s necessary. Move along now.” I tried to shove Yuta and Jiung out the door. Taeyong’s hand suddenly gripped onto mine. I looked up instantly.

“Pause. You’re very acting weird. What’s going on?” Taeyong’s voice was raised higher than before. A few people were staring at us. “Nothing...” I whispered, looking down. I was now scared to the bone. I didn’t know what to reply, how to cover it up. It’s gonna have to slip out eventually. At least I was able to be with Taeyong more often.

“Yuta and I planned for you guys to never meet again.” That’s it. It’s all over. With that simple line of confession, the truth was now out. No where left to hide or run. Yuta smacked me on the arm, making me wince. “What the heck?!” He half-shouted in a whisper.

“Are you serious? And for what? Jealous or something?” Taeyong was mad. So mad. And I felt it. I was so scared. I was shivering with every word he said. I gulped, avoiding eye contact with him. I didn’t need to give a reply. My body has said it all. A moment of silence filled with tension circled around us. Suddenly, Taeyong stormed out.

I panicked, immediately going back to the table we were at to grab my belongings and rushed out, wanting to stop Taeyong. I looked around frantically. I spotted him walking down the street on the left. I ran as fast as I could, my hand reaching out for him as I shouted his name countless of times, but he doesn’t respond as if he was deaf.

“Taeyong, please!” I cried out. I finally had his wrist tightly around my fingers. He turned around sharply. He tried to walk away, but I tried harder to grip onto the hem of his sweater tighter. “What?”

I realised at that very moment that I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to stop him, but I never thought of what to do afterwards. I wanted to say “Don’t leave.” But it never left my lips.

I stood there silently, my thumb caressing against the cloth as I bit my lip hard. “Hello?” Taeyong asked, annoyed. That one simple word hit me, right on the heart. It was like an arrow, painfully accurate at where its being shot. Just as how one word from him could light up my day, and one word from him can make it come crashing down as well. His change in tone and mood was quick and intense. I couldn’t stop thinking about being terrified.

I eventually took in a deep breath, opening my tote bag and taking out the book that I have forgotten to give him that day while I was spying on him.

“Here. Have it, as a present.” I brushed a hand down the back of my head, my fingers combing through the ends as I turned around and walked away in the opposite direction after shoving the book to Taeyong’s chest, remembering the note was somewhere in there but I never bothered knowing exactly where.

My breathing started to become unstable. The further I walked away, the urge of falling down to the ground and collapsing became stronger. But I continued walking, telling myself to stay strong the whole way till I reach home. “You can cry on the floor all you want. Just quickly get home now.” I kept whispering to myself, begging my legs to speed up but my wobbly knees were not helping.

I cried that night. Very hard. The whole scene of kept replaying like a movie tape. All I could think about was how mad Taeyong looked. With his voice and eyes. It was a look I’ve never seen on him before. It was like a completely new side of him. The entire opposite of what he usually was. I now realised that he’s one of those “Their all butterflies and rainbows till they get pissed off.” That phrase cannot be any more true in regards to Taeyong.

Every day I tried to meet Taeyong. At the bar, his home, the bookstore. Anywhere he could be. He wasn’t replying to my texts, or calls. He probably blocked me. And on his socials as well. He wasn’t responding to me at all. I got worried sick. Is he never going to talk to me ever again?

Constantly, I mentally slammed my head against an imaginary wall, thinking about how I never thought of this outcome while weighing out the possible aftermath of the decision I made. How could I be so stupid, so reckless?

I eventually gave up trying to get in contact with him. He needed time and space away from me, completely. The hole this made in my heart was deep, like a dried up well with vines that has sharp long thorns growing in them. And every time I thought about Taeyong, I am constantly being pierced by those thorns of regret and agony, pricking deeper into my skin the more I fell deeper.

It was choking me; Taeyong’s absence. I couldn’t breathe at all. I was sinking, gasping for air each time I longed for him. I just wanted him back. I wanted things to get back to normal. I wanted to be us again.

Two months have passed. It was the worst two months of my life. Worst than the exam stress I had for last year’s final project. I had university to worry about on top of Taeyong. I was mentally going through hell. And again, the worst one yet. And it was now that I realised, I’d be much better off having him as a friend than anything less. But I was selfish enough to not treasure it that way, and it’s now finally gone. Completely out of my reach.

One night, I was up. Doing assignments. Nothing’s new. Nothing’s changed. Taeyong has yet to open up to me. I glanced at the clock on my phone, groaning as I let my head fall on the table. I closed my eyes. I was too stressed. The world’s spinning too fast. I needed it to stop for awhile. My brain can’t bear this much.

As if on cue, the door bell rang while I lifted my head off the table. My head slowly turned to my room door. The bell rang again. A few seconds later, it rang yet again. Whoever’s outside was frustrated or something, jamming their fingers on the bell while saying “I’ll keep annoying you till you open this damn door.”

I pushed my chair back and walked over to the door. I looked through the peek hole. Taeyong...? I opened the door. On instinct, I grabbed him by his waist while his body fell on me. His face tilted up to meet mine. His cheeks were flushed red. His eyes were half opened and looking around as if stars are swirling above his head. He’s drunk.

“Good night. I wanna go in.” Taeyong whispered. Yup, he’s drunk. His breath reeked or alcohol as he spoke. I stood there for a moment, needing to process the current situation. At three in the morning, Taeyong showed up here drunk. I can think about why later. But now I had to figure out a way to carry his heavy body into the living room.

Taeyong wrapped his arms around my waist, sticking his body against mine. “You’re so warm.” I blinked rapidly. I looked down on him. I can’t believe it. He’s here. After two months of ignoring, he can simply show up here. Drunk, even. Worst of all, I still had the love to move along with this. The anger was still there. It’s just that his sudden presence made me forget about it a little while.

Out of the blue, like a marionette on strings, he jerkily push himself off me and staggered his way to the lviing room. I followed closely behind, not bothering to turn on the lights. I didn’t feel the need to. I sat down at the edge of the couch while he laid his body down. He giggled to himself and muttered things I couldn’t understand. I know what he’s like when drunk. Unstable, crazy, a lightweight. Will not remember a single thing the next morning.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, not even sure why. Why did I bother asking when he won’t remember any of this the next day? Well, he’s here now. And no matter what state he was in, I just wanted answers.

“To thank you. Me thank you. Mwah!” Taeyong puckered his lips in the end, eyes closed and shaking his head furiously. His fluffy hair moving along. I smacked my bottom lip and nodded. “For what exactly?”

“For getting rid of Jiung for me. She’s so annoying. I’d much rather be with you.” Taeyong mumbled, finger slowly pointing up to me. Unconsciously, I pointed back to myself too. “Me?” Taeyong pursed his lips into a thin line and nodded firmly. “Uhuh. Yes, right. Mhm.”

I kept silent for a moment. “That wasn’t really what I got from how you reacted two months ago.” Suddenly, Taeyong forcefully gripped onto my wrist, pulling me down. I let out a soft gasp, realising that my body was laying on top of his. We stared at each other for a long while, the close proximity making it so that I could feel his cold breath on my skin, sending shivers down my spine. I breathed heavily as I felt my face getting hot. Stop it. Why are you falling for him too quickly?

“Go home, Taeyong.” I whispered so softly in a calming and light tone. Taeyong whined in response. He was now pouting with his big boba eyes. He looked like a sad puppy. My heart instantly melted at the sight. I couldn’t resist. “I’m staying here.” He said in a high pitch voice, hugging me closer and putting me in an uncomfortable position for my body. Regardless, I stayed.

After two months he was finally here, and in my arms. This night might not mean anything to him but it made me feel relived. The fact that he remembered my house, my name, me. Whether it was just the alcohol driving him to do such things that are out of his control, I didn’t mind. All I needed was for him to be here. It felt good to be with him for that one night. Just one night was all I needed. It didn’t stop my anger for him about the fact that he ignored me, but I was okay with it. That night, I let it go. All I wanted was to feel such peace with Taeyong.

We ended up sleeping together on the small couch. I woke up with terrible body aches but either way, I sighed in relief when I woke up before Taeyong. I tried finding his phone, that was hidden under the crack of the cushions. I typed in his password. I memorise it like how he memorise mine. I went to his contacts and called the one person I knew.

“I have a favour to ask, Ten.” I said nervously as I watch him carry Taeyong into his car. He hummed, pulling his head out of the car and slamming the door. “Don’t tell him he went here.” Ten gave a half-shrug, nodding his head in response. “Sure. I’m not sure what’s going on between you two, but it seems like a lot. Should solve it soon.”

“Yeah... I hope so.”

16th October.

I’ve lost count on the number of love letters I’ve given you. I can’t give them to you anymore, since you don’t even want anything to do with me. I can’t blame you. I knew you’d be pissed. I was hesitant on doing it but I was so selfish, wanting you all to myself. But what can I do, Taeyong? I’ve wanted you for so long. Yet you’re so delusional of my feelings. How could you have not read any of of my letters? Perhaps you have and chose to ignore it. That’s more painful than you being upfront and rejecting me. As much as I allow you to hate on me, I’d still say this. Fuck you, Lee Taeyong.

23rd October.

I saw you at the bar. You look... happy. Without me. You act as if nothing happened. Like I never happened. I wonder if you’re just putting on an act, or are you actually okay without me by your side. Are you still mad? Did you forget about it but have gotten use to not being with me? I want to know Taeyong so please, respond. That’s all I ask from you. Fuck that. You don’t even have to talk. I just want you here with me. Whether the air around us will be filled with tension, I don’t care. What I’m going through, is not nice, Taeyong. It is punishment for my actions. But how long do I have to keep it up? How long to I have to suffer to take a breath? For you to pull me out of this mess with your forgiveness. I’m falling apart.

14th December.

Wow. It’s December already. I’m sitting at the park we go to every Christmas. We’d be freezing to death but still glued to the bench chatting about life since we just loved being out in the snow. And yet, you never got back to me. I found out from Jiung that you left the country but never said where. I miss you, Lee Taeyong. I’m tired. So tired, of constantly penning my feelings down on pieces of paper. Words I can never say to you out loud, are all in the letters in your books that you never bothered to open. I even hid one between the books of your huge ass shelf. Why haven’t you said anything about them? I know I should move on, because it really does seem like you never want to talk to me ever again. I’m losing hope, more faster than before as each day pass, wondering where the hell as you and how you’re doing. I keep telling myself “Let it be. Let him have his moment.” But I wonder if you ever think about how I’m bearing all of this as well. That without you, I might never be able to forgive myself.

I slide the notes under Taeyong’s apartment door. I knew he was out of the country. Some nights I’d sit by his door, the note in hand as I envision him in his house. I couldn’t think about what he’s doing. And I constantly ponder about it. Is he eating well? Sleeping well? Is he enjoying himself wherever he’s at? Months passed. And as time went on, I began to wonder if my letters were even worth writing. Why was I giving so much? Why am I going through such lengths, physically and emotionally, for Taeyong to be okay? Why am I bearing such emotions when it’s not even certain that I’ll be given the same in return.

I’m making a promise to myself. I’ll let go of Lee Taeyong. I’ll slowly, bit by bit, remove my feelings out of my heart. It’s not worth it, I kept telling myself. I’m meaninglessly suffering for someone who is isn’t appreciating it. So why should I go on? I loved you, Lee Taeyong. I changed my words. I loved you.

And that was the last love letter I wrote.

Along my journey to forgetting Taeyong, I suffered a lot. I was always drawn back to him. I was always willing to put my pen on paper and just write something to him. About anything. It was a bad habit that needed to stop. I had to let go years of feelings that were being pilled up in my heart. And it was something that’s extremely hard to let go. But other than my own factors, there were external, circumstantial ones as well. Whether it was coincidental or not, that was something I can never know the answer to.

I was on my laptop, casually scrolling through Pinterest to calm myself with the aesthetics of random things. Room decor, clothing ideas, handsome idols. Anything that can take my mind off my billions of overloaded projects for awhile.

I didn’t know how, but I ended up looking at quotes, Japanese ones to be exact. The deep meaning of words. Some were heartfelt while other were heartbreaking. I read them off casually till I paused at one.

‘Tsundoku— buying books and not reading them; letting books pile up unread on shelves, floors, or nightstands.’

I scoffed to myself, pinching my temples as I shook my head. It’s just like you, Lee Taeyong. “Fucking hell.” I mumbled, slamming the laptop shut. I’ve been able to not think about Taeyong for a long time now. Or at least I felt like it was a long time. I wasn’t going to let a word get me off course. I placed my laptop on the bed and went back to my study table, suddenly feeling motivated to continue as a way to distract myself from thinking about him.

Thinking that I wouldn’t be facing that state of dilemma again, I just so happen to see a quote the first thing I entered Pinterest.

‘If they were meant to reunite, they had to go separate ways.’

I was then reminded of Taeyong yet again. But I don’t think I was thinking about him as a person, but our relationship. Just our relationship. Having to part ways as a mean to reunite. That’s something I found hard to believe. Why am I having hope that it’ll happen when I highly doubt I’ll experience it? Why is my mind slowly pulling me back to the memories I have with Taeyong? I want him long gone. I want him holed up in the corner of my mind, out of sight, out of mind. But things are always popping up randomly around me, and it all reminded me of him. I feel like it’s his doing, funny enough. Constantly hinting about him with almost everything I come across.

“What the fuck?”

I looked at the Youtube home screen and what was recommended for me. One of the videos had Taeyong’s name. And his face was on the thumbnail. The title? Lee Taeyong | Freestyle dance | Paris In The Rain (Lauv) My finger moved on its own, bringing the cursor to the video and clicking on it.

As I expected, the video was taken in Paris. So that’s where he has been. He was in Paris this whole time without my notice. I was shocked to find that the video has tons of likes and view. I read through the comments. They were all swooning over Taeyong.

“Who wouldn’t?” I said to myself. I scrolled up and played the video. My eyes didn’t leave the screen for a second. I was frozen, not being able to move an inch as I watched, completely in awe. Firstly, Taeyong has his hair dyeda light ashy grey or blue. It suited him well, all too well. His dancing was immensely beautiful. Anyone would fall for him. Visuals, talent. He has it all. Dancer by day, bartender by night. He looked so free and alive in his dance. Serving the world with a hard punch with his deep emotions that were imbued perfectly into his movements.

I bit my lower lip. Fuck. I felt it. The goosebumps, the quivering of my lips. My eyes started to well up with tears. “No, this is not happening again.” The video was still playing, the music ringing in my ears but I couldn’t bear to look at the video. I was watching Taeyong, living the perfect life in Paris. What more could he needed? I clearly wasn’t in his equation. I’m completely gone, removed out of his life. No trace of my presence to be found.

The longer I think, the more I forced myself not to cry. Eventually, being weakling I am, I ended up falling deep into the harsh and intense whirl pool that is my feelings once again, a place I never visited in a long while. The feelings started dancing in my mind like butterflies flapping in unison to the soundtrack of my sadness. I could only assume that it’s what the world wants. It’s how it wants to spin, how it wants to work.

Eight months. I actually counted how long I’ve lost contact with Taeyong for. It didn’t bother me. I was trying to live a life. It’s getting better. It took a lot of baby steps. But I’m feeling a whole lot lighter now. It’s March.

I was walking back from University when my phone started vibrating in my hand since I’ve always left it on silent mode. I lifted it up. It was an unknown number. Instinctively, I chose to not pick up the call. But a few seconds later, the same number showed up on the screen. With a light groan, I picked up and brought the phone to my ear.

“Hello? Who is this?” I asked formally, waiting by the traffic light. I heard the person on the other hand breathe out a chuckle, almost like a disappointed kind. “Who the-”

“So you deleted my number?” That voice... No doubt. It was Lee fucking Taeyong. “Meet me. My home. You got ten minutes.” The call ended.

Rapidly blinking my eyes, I slowly brought down the phone. I read over the number again. It was Taeyong’s phone. Why didn’t I remember it? I used to know it. It’s one of the few things I used to be able to tell off the top of my head. “Ten minutes?” I looked at the time.

I don’t know what urged me, but I ran. I ran as fast as I could. The unknown force. It was unfamiliarly familiar. If that made sense. I was able to live a life without Taeyong. I was. I was capable of it. And that’s what I did. But at the very moment, I felt the need to see him. The spontaneous out of the blue kind of feel. It was all just pouring out of me.

I stood at his doorstep, hand on my chest and other as support for my body against the wall. Panting heavily, I tried to slowly calm myself down. I gulped, and rang the doorbell. No turning back.

The door flung open. And there stood Taeyong. He still had his ashy hair colour. His face never changed a single bit. Nor did his overall physique. He was still handsome, breathtaking. “Come in.”

I sucked my lips and sidled in timidly and warily. Nothing has changed in his house as well. The large bookshelf with the television in the centre. I started to remember the love letters. All of them are hidden in the pages of the books in that very shelf. It reminded me of my feelings for him.

I sat down on the leather couch as Taeyong disappeared into the kitchen. I kept my head faced forward, placing my tote bag down, leaning it against the couch on the floor. Taeyong came back moments later. Two plates with a slice of cheesecake. He handed on to me. “Try it.” He said.

I slowly took a bite. Chewing on it, I scrunched up my nose, placing the plate down on the table. “I hate it. Tastes too artificial.” I commented dryly. Taeyong chuckled and cleared his throat. “Knew you’d say that.” Taeyong shoved a bite into his mouth, eating it as he placed the plate beside mine. “Want to know why you’re here?”

I bobbed my shoulders. This atmosphere, the air between us. It wasn’t awkward at all. Though our words were dry and short, it felt normal. It wasn’t weird being next to him after not seeing him for eight months.

Taeyong stood up, taking small steps to the shelf. As if practiced, he pulled out one letter from a book, another, and another, and another. It was never ending. It took him at least ten minutes to slide out all the letters and placing them on the table. I silently watch, my anxiety turning up a notch with each letter.

He finally took what I hoped was the last letter and went back to sit next to me. A specific letter is held in his hand. He unfolded it, placing the paper on the table and turning it so that I could read.

It was my last love letter.

“So you knew.” I whispered, looking down, leaning forward as I laced my fingers together. I took in a deep breath, my eyes scanning down the note before turning my head to Taeyong. “Then why the fuck didn’t you do anything about it?”

Taeyong lifted the paper off the table, holding it in front of him. He reread it. Running a hand through hair, chest puffing up as he inhaled and exhaled sharply. “Because I wanted you to keep writing to me.”

“What...?” That was definitely not an answer I was expecting.

Taeyong licked his lips, smacking them before sniffling a rubbing his nose. He lets out a weak chuckle. “I liked them. From your handwriting, to your words. I felt it; your love, with each letter.” He whispered softly.

I simply couldn’t believe what I was hearing. This was the explanation and truth I’ve been wanting to hear for months. This is what kept me up at night, what led me to have my mental breakdowns, the constant ‘what if’s I formulated throughout. “You just like them? Taeyong if you’re rejecting fucking do it now-” I was about to scream, but Taeyong was quick to cut me off.

“In a way it felt like you were writing a book. One just for me. That’s why I never bothered to read any other books. I just needed yours. Your... simply overpowering pain in the heart love letters.” Taeyong smiled down at the letter, hovering his fingers over the words.

“And I don’t just like the love letters. I love the author. Paris made me realise that. It took me that long. And I’m sorry for how long you needed to wait.”

“What do you love about the author?”

I could tell Taeyong was taken aback by that question. And I knew he would react that way. He still knew me well, bouncing back and giving a confident answer.

“I don’t want to sound common by saying it’s her smile, laughter, brightness. But it truly is what I love about her. All the times we’ve spent were filled with nothing but pure bliss. Serenity, is what I feel when I’m with her. Longing, like I was meant to be by her side. I’ve known her long enough to know every single detail about her, ones that maybe she doesn’t even know herself. Like how drinks two straws when she’s sad, or having the habit of twiddling her thumbs when she’s excited. Little things like those, I find them adorable. No matter what she is, a nerd, weirdo, plain crackhead, it’s... the energy, her own energy. A light and force only she could illuminate.”

I couldn’t say anything. I frozen stiff by his words. He actually meant it. I could feel it through his voice. He stuttered here and there nervously, finding words to say. But he was able to structure them in the most beautiful way possible. I had no words to say.

Suddenly, Taeyong slowly brought his hand up to cup my cheek. That one touch alone made me feel a lot of things. It was like I was hit by a huge wave of feelings all bunched up together and crashing over me. But it wasn’t something I couldn’t handle. It was overwhelming, but I was calm. I was at peace. It felt good. Just this.

He slowly and carefully swiped his thumbs across my cheeks like I’m the most fragile thing in the world. His touch was lightweight and simply serene. “Another thing the author doesn’t know about herself is that she really doesn’t know when she’s crying and spilling out tears.”

I blinked my eyes, Taeyong smoothing his hands from my cheeks and to my shoulders, placing them there firmly as his eyes stared into mine. I can’t exactly explain what I felt. But it was like the stars aligned, as cliche as that sounds.

‘If they were meant to reunite, they had to go separate way.’ I resonated with this now. I understood what it meant. Our months of separation were all for this exact moment. Both of us suffered, one trying to find themselves again while the other needing the time to realise that what’s most valuable was right in front of him. We needed that gap, for us to reunite and actually be able to love each other properly and willingly. Which definitely would not be a trouble now.

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illyria-12 · 4 years ago

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AOT Headcanons

I’ve been thinking of posting some of my headcanons and other shit here a bit more. I’m much more active on other platforms, but figured, why not?

So have something I threw together at... I dunno, maybe 3am Monday morning? :)

Warnings: None that I am aware of.

Includes: Eren Jaeger, Armin Arlert, Levi Ackerman, Erwin Smith, Hanji Zoe, Reiner Braun (At present, maybe more added at a later date.)

AOT Characters as Study Buddies:

Eren Jaeger:·

Do not expect this boy to remember that he agreed to study with you. He could have agreed to study with you just a few hours ago, and would forget. He needs regular reminders.

Remind him a couple of days before, the day before, on the day, during lunch and definitely make sure you text him after school.

Is always late.

He starts off really focused. Pulls out his books and notes and is eager to help.

But he also gets very easily distracted.

Will often check his phone. It’s a really bad habit he can’t seem to control. Whether it’s just checking the time or clearing notifications, expect his phone to be in his hand at least 60% of the time. Clearing notifications often leads to him scrolling through social media, sending snaps or replying to texts too.

Will always involve you, telling you why he is laughing, showing the funny video or meme he has found or explaining a conversation he is having.

It’s entertaining, but not exactly the reason you are here...

He doesn’t have a preference of where he studies, he is pretty content anywhere, but if you go to his place, he will frequently bring in snacks or order pizza. Also is much more easily distracted when at home.

His attention span isn’t great, and although he loves the idea of being helpful and studying with you, he gets bored quickly.

Can also get confused with his own notes.

Will often try and get you to call an end to the study session rather than do it himself. It makes him feel accomplished that way; like he has done his job and you are the one who has had enough.Will often groan things like:

“Are we done yet?”

“My head/back/wrist/eyes hurt.”

Occasionally he will suggest ‘taking a break’, but once that has been agreed to, it is pretty much the end of studying for the rest of the night.

Likes to try and make studying as fun as possible. Bright colours, highlighting, bubble diagrams, sticky notes. You best believe his version of pop quiz is to write random answers on a sticky note and stick it to your forehead and then get you to ask questions until you get the answer right.

Will definitely reward you with a kiss when you finally get it right.

Sometimes leaves sticky notes in your book of ‘motivational quotes' to make you smile when you eventually come across them.

Armin Arlert:-

By far, the most committed study buddy you could have hoped for.

You have weekly study sessions at the library every Friday after school.

Armin is always there before you, fully prepared; books laid out neatly on the table. Sometimes he even starts his homework while waiting for you.

Is very much a fan of making a little itinerary of things you are going to work through on the day.

Doesn’t mind odd conversation but is an expert at getting you back on the subject at hand. He can often even relate whatever you’ve said back to the topic... although sometimes it doesn’t make sense. But it’s still funny and endearing.

“You know who else thought Mrs Bratton was a bitch? William Shakespeare.”

Is incredibly patient.

Is a great supporter, always encouraging you and praising you when you get things right.

Would never admit it but he finds it cute when you just can’t wrap your head around something and then out of nowhere, the penny drops.

The faces you pull entertain him. Either when realization finally dawns on you or if you’re thinking very hard.

“Hey, don’t worry, you got this... let’s just go through it again.” “That’s it! See? Told you you’d get there.”

Will always make sure he brings you something to drink and snack on during session. Usually a sandwich, crisps or some chocolate to give you a bit of a boost.

Doesn’t push you too hard, if you say you have had enough, he will generally leave it there, or try to convince you to do just a bit more, but never in a demanding sort of way.

“Okay, shall we finish this page first?”

“One more section? Promise.”

Armin's biggest downside? He is so soft on you.

Very often gives you the answers as opposed to forcing you to figure it out.

Absolutely can not be stern. If you are feeling playful, or really not in the mood and start teasing him,he is quick to admit defeat rather than stand his ground and force you to get through the work.

Absolutely will do 99% of the work on group projects but share the credit with you.

Levi Ackerman:·

Will make it seem like he doesn’t want to study with you, but will ultimately agree.

“Why don’t you ask ...... instead? Tch. Fine.”

At first he will always read what it is you have to do, and then proceed to tell you what you have to do, but not necessarily tell you how to do it.

Eventually he realizes you already know what you’re supposed to do... (you can read, Levi.) And then proceeds to actually help.

Expect a lot of sarcasm and insults. He doesn’t necessarily mean them, but he will say them anyway.

"Whining about it isn’t going to magically speed this up. Get to it.”

Very rarely strays away from what it is you’re meant to be doing.

Complaining gets you nowhere with him.

“No, we’re not taking a break, you should have eaten before.”

It’s not that he doesn’t care, he does, but he also knows you will do anything to get out of studying when you’re frustrated, and tend to over-exaggerate. You’re not ‘starving’, he saw you eat at lunch... which was only a couple of hours ago.

Likes to prioritize your subjects. Will take into account when assignments are due in, how difficult they are going to be and how long it will take to get done.

Strict. Very strict.

Prefers to study in a quiet and familiar place. Libraries or either of your houses where there are minimal distractions.

Absolutely will not let you copy his notes. You’re welcome to read them, but he expects you to refer to your own. That doesn’t mean you don’t steal snippets here and there though, much to his annoyance.

“Do you pay attention in any of your classes?”

Very good at breaking things down and explaining things. You actually pick things up pretty quickly when studying with him, probably due to his ‘no nonsense’ approach.

Will occasionally randomly test you to see if you’re actually paying attention and remembering what you are doing. He always smiles a little when you can answer his questions.

Is not going to do the work for you, and certainly isn’t going to give you answers, you have to really work for them.

Is patient until you start misbehaving.

His occasional praises are a treat.

Erwin Smith:·

Loves to study with you in different places. This man will plan a whole day for it.

Will always bring a picnic when you study in a park. Happy to share a cocktail if you go to a bar, or a milkshake and burger if you go to a diner.

If you do happen to study in a library, he will always take you for food afterwards.

His notes are detailed and beautifully written and he has no problem with you using them.

Don’t expect him to give you the answers though. Erwin is the sort of person who will ask you what you think.

“How do you think we figure that out?”

“What do you think we need to do?”

“What do you think this means?”

It’s not that he doesn’t know. But he wants you to try and figure things out yourself. As long as he can see you’re making an effort though, he is happy to guide you and let answers slip here and there, or word things in such a way that you suddenly have an epiphany and get the answer.

Is a great motivator and supporter.

Doesn’t mind taking breaks every so often and uses this time to have general conversation with you. Nothing work related in the breaks, it’s meant to be a break.

Is not above bribing you. Whether it be with food, physical affection, surprises...

Yes, Erwin has in fact brought you gifts and refused to give them to you until you do the work and get it right.

And he would do it again.

Erwin knows a decent amount about a lot of different subjects and sometimes shares random facts regarding topics you’re studying about. Sometimes they are not at all relevant. But they are usually always interesting.

You have this man’s undivided attention throughout the study session. Erwin is usually very busy , so when he does dedicate time to help you, he likes to be fully committed.

Will ignore his phone completely. Texts, phone calls... everything, until you both take a break.

Hanji Zoe:·

When the two of you get together to study, it is very hit and miss as to whether you actually get the work done. She is so intelligent, but also, such a ditz at times.

Hanji can talk.

Like, a lot.

She very often will start off talking about a topic and swerve off into other lanes and get completely side-tracked.

You once started off writing a biology paper and somehow ended up getting a history lesson about Ramses II, after learning all the details of the Black Death and even touching on Jack the Ripper.

But she is highly intelligent under her scatterbrain-iness.

But can become very easily distracted. Especially if you start talking to her about something she is very excited or passionate about.

Will sometimes forget to bring textbooks you need to use.

Will hyper focus at times. Sometimes a bit too extensively. It can be very draining.

Can be known for getting lost in the details.

Never comes to a study session without a coffee for the both of you.

Absolutely has no problem sharing her notes with you, will often steal yours too.

“A fresh set of eyes and all that.”

“Ah, this is good! Who knew you were a certified genius?!”

Has no problem pulling her weight on group projects, but also has no problem letting you take the lead... or do all the work.

Tends to be much more productive closer to the end date of an assignment.

Fidgets a lot. Always tapping a pen, nibbling on the end or twirling it between her fingers. Knee bouncing... almost constantly.

Likes to take regular breaks to analyse and go over what the two of you have learned and accomplished so far and decide where to go from here.

Procrastinates.

Reiner Braun:·

Reiner is always happy to study with you. Even though his calendar is pretty full, he will always make an effort to squeeze you in.

Definitely the kinda guy to put a game night on hold, telling his friends online he will be back in a couple of hours to help you first.

Always greets you with a kind smile and asking if you’re ready for the session.

Doesn’t mind where you study, but does prefer to study at his house so he can give you a snack or something to drink.

Really likes it when you go and study in the garden. It is probably his favourite place to study with you. Just because it is nice, quiet and peaceful.

Very chilled out; will often make jokes and try his best to keep the mood light.

Very patient; has no problem going over things multiple times and trying lots of different ways to try and help you understand.

Likes to be close to you when you work together. Knees occasionally touching, shoulders brushing. Just give this man a reason to touch you in anyway shape or firm. A reassuring hand on your shoulder, a quick one armed hug in the chair, ruffling your hair, squeezing your hand... he is all about that shit.

Will celebrate your victories and praise you constantly.

“Hey, well done! See I knew you would get it.”

“We’ve done a lot today, I’m proud of you.”

Always down for a cuddle or a movie afterwards, or maybe even a walk through the park to get some air and unwind.

Will digress sometimes but it’s very fleeting and he picks up exactly where he left off again easily.

Has no problem with you taking some of his notes, or searching the Internet for answers.

Will explain how he got the answer and break things down into manageable chunks for you.

Chocolate is always on the table.

If you get too stressed he will let you take a break.

Will offer to give you neck, back or even hand massages if you get too stiff.

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#Headcanon #aot headcanons #hc #AoT #snk #Eren Jaeger #armin arlert #levi ackerman #hanji zoe #Erwin Smith #reiner braun #writing stuff

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pop-punklouis · 3 years ago

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Hi Hope :) I don’t know if you do advice often but here goes nothing on the chance that you do. I’m currently really overwhelmed with college (in the UK) and exams are coming up next week (and I haven’t revised at all). I really don’t know what to do, because realistically speaking, I have enough time to do all the work if i take very few breaks, but I feel so burnt out that I literally can’t physically bring myself to do all the work and study. To add, I really struggled with the pandemic when it came to school so I feel like i’m not on the level I should be in my course. Do you have any suggestions on what I could do when I’m feeling this burnt out and defeated? (Thank you in advance if you end up replying, you’re my favourite person on here and i hope you have the most wonderful day!)

Hello, babe! So sorry for the delay in reply. I know about burn out all too well. Over the past couple of years, i’ve learned how to somewhat combat it in a way that helps when it comes to work/academia/hobbies etc.

1) try to break up what you need to do into increments. with me, if i look at everything i have to get done it can overwhelm me, but if i get through it in bite-sized pieces it doesn’t seem as hard.

2) if you’re having to study or write a paper etc., what i’ve found extremely helpful is to give myself a goal of what i want to accomplish. so for example: if a paper is due on saturday i’ll try to write the introduction on Monday. then maybe write one-two bodies of the paragraph on tuesday. being able to give myself a timeline of when i want certain things done also helps to not overwhelm me.

3) give yourself stimulating breaks. go for a walk. go for a drive. simply sit outside. bake. cook. exercise. do something physical. not only does it distract you from your tasks but it takes you out of that mindset and rejuvenates you for when you come back to your task.

4) switch up rooms/environments that you’re studying or completing work in. i’ve found that changing scenery can help you in feeling refreshed and more focused as your mind doesn’t automatically associate a different place with that burn out.

5) most importantly, give yourself grace. these two years have been hard. allow yourself to accept all that you have been able to accomplish and give yourself some love regardless. you’re doing the best with what you have right now, so don’t downplay it. celebrate the small victories of studying or completing tasks. you don’t have to entirely finish to praise yourself for what you have done.

i hope some of this at least helps? i love u, grey ✨

#grey

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old-hyper-super-clover · 3 years ago

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Secret Santa Event,

Day 12

This little story belongs to my Christmas project, a series of stories leading up to Christmas Eve! Check my Event Masterlist for more information, and have fun!

A/N: might contain interactions with my MCs Clover and/or Violet (no spoilers ofc), but you don't have to know them to understand the story!

In today's story snippet, our dear Diavolo had the honour of recieving a present. Now, for a moment, try to think of something you could gift a literal prince...

Diavolo was raised to be hell's ruler one day, so naturally, he had gotten the royal treatment since birth. Living in a giant castle, surrounded by butlers and maids that were at his side the second he was unsatisfied, Diavolo truly lived what most would call the best life.

Weirdly enough, if you'd ask Diavolo himself, he would probably not say the same.

He could not complain, not about the standards he was able to live by. Especially with Barbatos at his side, he couldn't possibly whine about that.

And I'd say it's also not the heavy weight of being a prince, one that will one day lead one of the three realms, all by himself. He is smart, and strong, physically as well as mentally.

However, there was one thing that Diavolo lacked...

One thing that his life of a royal demon did not give him...

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

Beelzebub was sat at his desk, a paper in front of him and a pen in his hand. He was trying to come up with gift ideas for the secret Santa project.

Although it it turned out terribly difficult to come up with anything good.

With Diavolo as his partner, it truly was a challenge to think of something that the wealthiest demon in the Devildom didn't already have. Like, seriously, what do you gift someone who must already possess everything you could buy with money?!

Beel had thought of everything, really.

Besides the (more or less obvious) food options, his favourite ideas were something like a potted plant or a pet came to his mind. Both were things that Beel enjoyed to take care of, but he felt stupid about those ideas as well.

'He could also get some himself if he wanted to.'

That thought eliminated about every idea that Beel could think of.

And so, the demon of Gluttony had thought and pondered and contemplated and brainstormed -- but without success.

Frustrated, Beel rested his head on his desk. His mind wandered to Diavolo as a person...

And led him to the conclusion that there indeed was something that Diavolo didn't have.

That he on his own, couldn't get.

"He must feel lonely a lot."

And Beel's brainstorming continued...

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

"Good morning, Beelzebub!"

Diavolo stepped inside the student council's office room. "What brings you here, on a Monday afternoon? Don't you have club activities?"

Hurrying to finish his sandwich, Beel shook his head. "I talked to the coach, it's fine."

"Oh, really? It's rare for you to skip practice. Are you not feeling good today?"

Again, Beel shook his head. He stood up to meet Diavolo's gaze properly.

"No, I'm fine. But I wanted to talk to you."

The prince's eyes widened. "C... Could it be..." They shimmered in excitement. "...That you..." And he couldn't contain his joy. "...Are my Santa Claus?!"

Beel gave a nod, leading to Diavolo eagerly looking around the room in search of a present. When he couldn't find anything, he mumbled a n irritated "uhm..." towards his Santa.

"I'm sorry, your present is not here right now..." Beel admitted. "It was a little too big for me to bring it here, so I delivered it to your castle before school."

"Ah, I see..." Diavolo said, going back into a contained stance. He was trying his best to hide his curiosity -- and the urge of running to see what was waiting for him at home.

"But I wanted to talk to you about it" Beel continued. "What you'll find at home is only a part of my present. Uhm... The main present is something I would like to tell you."

The two demons sat down to talk, and Beel pulled out some snacks to share together.

"So, I thought about what to get you for Christmas... And to be honest, I had a hard time coming up with anything. We always spend a lot of time together in the student council meetings, and whenever you invite us to your formal parties... So I feel like we are friends. Get along, at least. But that is the point... We're not really behaving like friends very often."

He looked up in determination.

"I'd like to change that."

Surprise crossed Diavolo's face. But he let Beelzebub continue.

"It must be tough being a prince. You're not really able to behave friend-like with others much. Or at least, that is my impression. So... My present is an invitation. To a pajama party at the house of Lamentation."

"... Really?" The prince's mouth had fallen open slightly. "But I've proposed that idea to Lucifer before, and he was against it..."

"Yeah" Beel laughed in resignation. "It took some time convincing him. I had promise to not eat the fridge empty for the next month, and also... This is where your other present comes in to play."

----------

After school, Diavolo hurried to get home.

Beel's words rung in his ears as he entered the main hall, heading directly to his room:

'See it as a countdown, but also a companion to take care of.'

Pushing his door open, Diavolo saw...

A big, potted plant, decorating his room.

The cryptic descriptions Beel had given now slowly connected.

So Diavolo bursted out into laughter.

'I won't spoil your present, but I'd like you to take good care of it.'

The prince inspected it more closely, and identified it as a Pentafruit-plant. It was known to bear fruits once a year, sometimes twice if taken care of well, and the sweet, tasty berries always showed the signature pentagram on their lower side.

'Lucifer agreed that once it's time to harvest the fruits of your labour, we will organise a sleepover party just for you.'

"That's certainly a present I did not expect" Diavolo chuckled.

He promised himself to stay up today to find out what his new little companion likes and dislikes...

... So that Diavolo would be able to have fun with the friends be loved very, very soon.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #ayyy #late again #had a tiring weekend #sorrey #konis om christmas event

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crownjimin · 4 years ago

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✰ 086 | baby fish, part one

la vie en rose ━ in which lee aera, a girl who has been crushing on choi soobin for a long, long time, is starting her junior year and her friends decide that its time for her to make her move.

A/N: the entire thing ended up being 5k so like the last written part, i broke it up into two separate posts, which is why it took me so long to update. part two will be posted tomorrow.

( masterlist | prev | next )

The entire week leading up to Saturday was abnormal, to say the least. Firstly, Haeun hadn’t spoken a word about her and Hyunjin’s meet up from the previous Friday. From what Aera could tell, Haeun didn’t seem sad, which the smaller girl thought was good, but Haeun also didn’t seem completely happy. If Aera had to describe how her friend looked, she would probably say serene or tranquil, like she had less to worry about. There was definitely a weight lifted from Haeun’s shoulders, as far as the smaller girl could tell, but if that feeling would last is what Aera was unsure about.

Coupled with Haeun’s odd behavior, this week was the first that Jiah had insisted on Jeongin and his friends joining their table for lunch. Maybe it was because Hyunjin and Haeun had “resolved” their issues, so inviting his friends wouldn’t be awkward for Haeun, but Aera is almost certain Jiah forgot to wonder whether or not this would make Aera awkward.

On Monday and Tuesday things were fine when it came to seating arrangements. Sanha had sat next to Aera, since she sat at the very end of the table, meaning only one person could sit next to her. Soobin sat at the opposite end of the table, the furthest seat possible from her, something that Aera tried not to purposely pay attention to (or feel sad about). But on Wednesday, Soobin had decided to switch seats with Sanha, so instead of Sanha keeping Aera company, it was Soobin. From there, things progressively got weirder for Aera, mostly because she noticed that she wasn’t panicking at the thought of being so close to her long-time crush. And Aera always panicked when it came to Choi Soobin.

Maybe it was because Soobin had been to her house before, he had met her parents, and for crying out loud, they even hugged. So him sitting next to her should be a walk in the park for her, and it truly was. Up until Soobin’s leg brushed hers.

At first, she chalked it up to an accident, since it initially happened as a result of Soobin shouting out in excitement at something Huening Kai brought up. But once his leg had returned to its regular position, away from Aera’s, Soobin had deliberately moved it back, bringing back the warmth that came with it. And even worse, he stared at her while he did so, eye contact ensued, and maybe that meant something important to Aera.

She wasn’t sure yet.

The last bit of change that occurred throughout the week was that Soobin was everywhere. Yes, Aera and Soobin already shared two classes and lunch together, but usually Aera would walk there herself. But after lunch on Wednesday, Soobin waited for Aera to throw away her trash so they could walk to Music class together.

Together. Like, side-by-side.

While Aera never imagined herself walking anywhere with Soobin, having him as a somewhat guide, since he was so tall, wasn't that bad of a thing. He could see over the majority of everyone’s heads so Aera didn’t have to worry about navigating her ways through the crowded halls. Added onto the fact that the clutter of students practically parted for Soobin meant that Aera’s usual four minute trek to class was shaved down to two.

And from lunch to music wasn’t the only time Soobin walked her to class. He walked her from music to physics, then from physics to her brother’s car after school, keeping her company as she waited for her brother to arrive from his last class, which Aera used to do on her own.

But now she had Soobin.

So, yes, the week leading up to Saturday was odd. All of these actions, more so the ones from Soobin made her really think, was Saturday supposed to be a date? Is that why Soobin decided to start walking her from class to class and sitting next to her at lunch? Is that what people do when they start dating? Aera had no clue, but she couldn’t help but to have the smallest bit of hope that it meant something good.

_ _ _

When Soobin had told Aera that they would hang out on Saturday, it wasn’t until the day of that he realized he never told her what time. So on Saturday morning, as he woke up at a quarter past ten, he shot Aera a text, telling her he would be there by noon. Unsurprisingly, she texted back quite fast with a simple okay. Soon followed by another text, oh and also good morning soobi.

Soobi.

If anyone else had come up with the nickname he probably would’ve thrown up, but it wasn’t anyone else. It was Aera.

Honestly, Soobin had never felt this way about anyone before. He wasn’t inexperienced when it came to having an occasional crush, he’d had plenty of them throughout middle school and even had one on Lee Chaeryeong in ninth grade before he decided that dating was one of his last priorities—so none of this was new to him. What was new to him was Lee Aera and the way she came out of nowhere, with her adorable eyes and cute pouty lips.

The first time he saw her he swore his first thought was: “is this love at first sight?”. Soobin wasn’t one for cliches or overly romantic gestures, but he was prepared to be at her beck and call, ready to do whatever she wished after that first glance. It was odd, and dramatic almost, which was weird because everyone knew Soobin was level headed and almost nonchalant when it came to pretty much everything.

But the way he had been acting recently whenever it came to Lee Aera was anything but level headed or nonchalant. And maybe he liked it a bit, he liked knowing that there was potentially someone he wanted to genuinely make happy in a non-platonic sense. Someone that mattered romantically to him, rather than as a friendship and it excited him while it also made him nervous.

He never actively sought to make someone his girlfriend before. He never had the self-doubt or the burden of worrying about a perfect date, and yet the moment Lee Aera showed up and smiled at him, his mind started thinking about and opening up to the idea of a relationship. It’s funny how much one person can influence sudden change in someone’s life, and at the moment Soobin was experiencing that firsthand.

But, oh, Soobin remembered, this wasn’t a date.

Brushing his teeth and styling his hair was quite easy for Soobin to handle on his own. When it came to choosing his outfit, that’s where Soobin found trouble. He changed from a collared white shirt to a plain tee, then back to the collared shirt. From sweatpants to joggers, back to sweatpants then to jeans. His collared shirt then turned into no shirt at all and instead a hoodie, and finally Soobin felt like he looked presentable. His outfit was simple enough to not clash with his purple hair (which was starting to fade, so he needed to decide a day where he dyes it back to dark brown).

The obvious choice in shoes were his high top black converse, and then he finally went downstairs for a light breakfast. By time he scarfed down his cereal it was eleven-thirty, so he called for his mom to see if she was ready.

From there, it was fast-paced. The trip to Aera’s house was blurry, and him ringing the doorbell was a fuzz as well. He seemed to snap from this odd state once Mrs. Lee, or Dongmin as she asked to be called, opened the front door with a bright smile and widened arms. With sounds of excitement, Dongmin pulled Soobin into a tight hug, swinging back and forth as Soobin heard the sound of his mom’s car engine turning off and a car door slamming.

At that, Dongmin stepped aside and ushered Soobin into the house, pointing up the stairs as she said, “Ae is upstairs, you can go get her.”

And with that, Soobin peeled off his shoes and began up the stairs. It wasn't hard to see which room was Aera’s since a large A was hanging on the closed door of only one of the many rooms on the second floor. He knocked and waited for a reply, but with the loud music that was slightly audible through the door, Soobin knew he wasn’t going to get an answer.

He took it upon himself to slowly push the door open, and the second he did so the loud music flooded into the hallway. Soobin was greeted with a sight that he couldn’t help but describe as devastatingly adorable and a pleasant view for his eyes.

Aera danced around her room with closed eyes and the utmost conviction, as if this was the last ever performance she would ever give. Her dance moves weren’t anything close to perfect, but they were so imperfect that they seemed natural coming from her. It made Soobin chuckle at her antics, an almost awed and proud feeling for him to see his favorite person so carefree and comfortable in her own space.

Soon though, she whipped around as she continued to sing, and spotted Soobin as he smiled at her with crossed arms and a teasing glint in his eye. He watched as she slipped on the hardwood floor from her socks as she scrambled over to her desk to shut her speaker off.

Silence filled the room for half a second before they both broke out into laughter, Aera with a more embarrassed tone compared to Soobin’s pure glee.

“Forget you saw that,” Aera spoke once she finished laughing. “You saw nothing.”

Soobin shrugged coyly, poking his bottom lip out in a joking manner. “I don’t think I will, Pouts. To me, it looked like you were putting on a good show.”

Aera’s cheeks tinted a shade of red as she stood frozen in place for a second. She then puckered her lips as she pointed at Soobin before she shook her head, seemingly deciding against saying whatever was on her mind. Soobin takes that as her moving on from the entire ordeal and begins to look around her room. Instead of posters lining her walls, like he had expected, there was art work, some framed while others were just sheets of paper that were pinned into the wall.

Some of the pieces were colored, others just rough sketches made with what looked like a pen or pencil. Many of them weren’t finished, just random sketches of life-like hands or other body parts--one page having multiple sketches of noses of different shapes and sizes, some with shading and others with scribbles over them.

Aera never spoke about or mentioned any interest in drawing, and maybe it was something she wanted to keep private because the moment she realized Soobin was studying the art on her wall, she rushed over to him, and practically shielded them from his eyesight with her body.

“They’re terrible, I know,” she said, grabbing one of his arms and turning him the opposite direction, so his back was facing the wall. “I just do it for fun, so please don’t judge too hard.”

Soobin quickly shook his head. “I’m not judging at all. And they’re not terrible, they’re really good—like super good.”

“You’re only saying that to spare my feelings.”

“No, really,” he followed Aera as she walked to her closet. “I wouldn’t lie. It’s really good.”

Apparently, Soobin had followed too closely and too quickly, because once Aera had reached her closet and gotten what she needed (which were her shoes), she had whipped right back around, colliding forehead first into Soobin’s chest. They both jolted at that, Aera jumping back and Soobin doing the same, except he didn’t land on his feet, he landed on his butt after his foot caught onto a stray piece of clothing that was on the floor.

Immediately, Aera rushed to help him up, tossing the shirt that Soobin tripped on across her room a little too harshly, before she tugged him off the floor. His clothes were disheveled and Aera was panting a little too hard from the energy it took for her to pull him up, but they didn’t have time to dwell as their mothers shouted up the stairs after hearing the thud of Soobin’s fall.

With that, the two of them gathered themselves and left Aera’s room, heading down the stairs fast and awkwardly, with Aera behind Soobin. So far this “not date” was starting off fantastic.

_______

Neither of their mothers noticed the awkward air between Soobin and Aera once they greeted them at the bottom of the stairs. Soobin’s mother and Dongmin seemed to have bonded quite nicely while Soobin was in Aera’s room, seeing as two empty wine glasses sat on the coffee table in the living room.

Soobin’s mom, who Aera learned was named Ruha, reassured the two of them that she was more than sober enough to still drive them to the park where they planned to hang for the afternoon, and the three of them planned to head out. But first, Dongmin made sure to ask Aera a million and one questions before she could leave.

“You have a jacket?”

“What about money? Do you need money? Go check your dad’s wallet for some money.”

“What about your phone? Is it charged?”

“Are you sure those pants will keep you warm? You know it’s getting chilly outside. Maybe you should go chang--”

“Eomma,” Aera gasped. “It’s fine! I’m fine! I have money, my phone, and a jacket. It’s fine!”

Dongmin rose from her spot on the couch and walked up to her daughter, smoothing her hands down her shirt sleeves while simultaneously raking her eyes over the entirety of Aera’s outfit. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

Dongmin takes a second to look at Soobin, “Awe, how cute! You guys are all matchy-matchy.” She points at the both of them before grabbing each of their shoulders and smashing them together. “Same shoes and black jackets, so cute. Ruha, look.”

Soobin’s mom walked over from her spot by the door to see what Dongmin was cooing about and once she explained everything to Ruha, they both began teasing their children. Soobin took control of the situation before it got any worse and reminded his mother of their plans, wrapping his arm around his mom’s shoulder as he led her towards the door while shouting a farewell to Dongmin. Aera followed close behind after she looked at her mother with a deadpan look, already regretting having Soobin pick her up from her house.

And per usual, Dongmin ignored the look from her daughter and sent her a flying kiss as Aera walked out the door and to Soobin’s mom’s car.

#choi beomgyu #choi soobin #choi yeonjun #hueningkai #kang taehyun #choi soobin x female oc #kpop #social media au #txt #txt social media au

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datninjalyfe · 4 years ago

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Not Without You, Chapter 3

Chapter 3: One-For-All

“Deku? Is that what she called you?” the young woman asked as Izuku landed his feet in front of her. He felt his cheeks flush and smiled shyly.

He was in the center of the city where he did his work study. His mentor had finally allowed him to do his patrols on his own, and while that was really nice of him, Izuku thought it was a bit out of character since Highlight, the world’s fastest hero, liked to work in groups. In the middle of his patrol, though, a store was robbed and there were a few hostages, the woman being one of them. Izuku was able to apprehend the robber quickly and get the hostages to safety with the help of the police.

“Yeah, that’s me. Are you okay—are you hurt?” he asked her. Thankfully, she shook her head.

“I’m okay, thanks to you.” the girl bowed her head, but flirtatiously kept her eyes locked with his, making him blush further.

“Oh—um, no, it’s nothing really—,” he told her, before catching his reflection in one of the building windows. A green, distorted image of his costume stared back at him. This…is a dream? He held out his palm, trying to touch it, but his index finger went straight through his hand. He smiled, realizing that his weeks of training had finally paid off. But how do I wake up?

“I can wake you up.” a voice growled, and when Izuku looked up at the girl, he was immediately jolted awake by the bright maroon eyes that looked back at him. He was back in his dorm room, floating a few feet above his bed.

“Oh, shit!” he said, crashing down against it, hearing a soft thud of the mattress underneath of him. He held out his hand and when he felt his index finger touch tickle his palm, he let out a sigh of relief. Okay, this is reality. He reached for a journal that lay on the nightstand, furiously writing down everything he could remember about the dream.

Izuku’s training on lucid dreaming had really only begun, which was really frustrating for him. Since doing more research on the subject, his dreams had become intensely more vivid, though couldn’t quite control them the way he had that first night. He still made really great progress through some of the techniques, but he knew he still had a long way to go until he could control them entirely. After finishing writing down his dreams, he opened a drawer and placed the dream journal inside his desk.

His phone buzzed, but he didn’t want to answer it—the book he was reading had instructions about no using electronics before bed in order to get the bed results. But when the phone buzzed again, curiosity got the best of him and got up, walking completely naked across his room, across the large window of his balcony. He picked up a towel off his floor that read “I Am Here!” and wrapping it around his waist, he unlocked his phone.

The notification turned out to be nothing. Just an article about things he already knew from his work study with Highlight’s agency. Highlight was an incredible teacher and for the most part, an idol for Izuku. He was the fastest hero in the world, but like Shoto, he was also blessed with two quirks and could fly as well. When he flew across the sky, it looked like a streak of a highlighter on a piece of paper and in school, he was nicknamed Highlight. From America, Highlight moved to Japan for work, but fell madly in love with someone and decided to stay.

Sighing, he sat down at his desk that faced the window and for a few minutes, he started to doze off, but was instantly awakened when he saw a figure moving outside. Strange, Izuku thought. It’s like 3 in the morning…but quickly recognized the figure. The contours of Katsuki’s body were painfully familiar—Izuku had memorized his bulky frame Izuku since they were young. Izuku watched as Katsuki moved down the sidewalk that led to the building, his excitement like a dog whose owner had just come home.

Katsuki had meant everything to Izuku when they were young, which annoyed Katsuki and caused him to lash out when he was angry at Izuku. To an extent, Izuku understood—they were immature and unafraid of consequences. But as they had grown from boys to men, Izuku watched Katsuki’s bullying turn from being physical to psychological—

“You wanna be a hero so bad?” Katsuki had told him in junior high. “I’ve got a time saving idea for you.” He was no longer resembled a boy, but a shadow that completely towered over Izuku. Katsuki looked down at a pathetic little quirkless Izuku, who held his arms up to protect his face from the blast that he had come to expect so many times. “If you think you’ll have a quirk in your next life—,” Katsuki held up his hand, his palm making popping sounds from tiny explosions. “—go take a swan dive off the roof.” Katsuki laughed, a menacing sound that pierced through Izuku.

“That was years ago.” Izuku tried to tell himself, but even now, Izuku couldn’t let it go. Those words had hurt him so much. Maybe that’s why they didn’t work out—because Izuku had never forgiven him. I would have loved you if you had been nicer to me, Kacchan. They were doomed from the start. “Take a swan dive off the roof.” Izuku scoffed aloud. Those words had played constantly through Izuku’s mind during their short-lived relationship.

Still, he watched Katsuki walk down the sidewalk, staring at his phone, Izuku couldn’t help but wonder why Katsuki was out so late to begin with. Rumors had reached Izuku through their class that Katsuki was a workaholic, but when Izuku saw the way that Katsuki looked at his phone: Is—is he smiling? Izuku squinted and to his demise, Katsuki was. A smirk, teeth showing as he entered the building, out of sight from Izuku. A thought lingered in his mind—what if Katsuki was seeing someone? Fury suddenly intertwined with jealousy, racing through Izuku. Izuku kicked his desk, cursing loudly. The wood split, making a loud crack before crumbling like paper.

Why? his mind pestered him. You didn’t come to U.A. to have a relationship with Kacchan. You came here to become a great hero! And you already have an amazing boyfriend. Who you love very much…

But Izuku wasn’t a good liar, even to himself. He still remembered that day—that horrible day when Katsuki told him, “I can’t do this, Deku.” Katsuki hiccupped through the sobs pouring out of him. The rest of what he said was muffled in Izuku’s ears. All Izuku could hear were those words, over and over again.

“K-Kacchan, please.” but Izuku’s cries were met with Katsuki’s head shaking back and forth.

“It’s okay.” Katsuki said, tears pouring from his eyes. He didn’t try to hide them, letting the water stream down his cheeks. “We tried, Deku.”

Katsuki didn’t show up to class the following Monday either. Izuku nervously tapped his pen against his desk watching the door for any sort of movement. Mineta sat next to him and shrugged when Izuku asked where he was. “Not sure. But Uraraka told me to sit here so if Bakugou does show up you don’t die—,”

Uraraka smacked him on the head, shooting him a look before asking Izuku, “How are you feeling, Deku?”

Izuku bit his lip, fighting against his eyes that threatened to tear up. “I-I’m doing better.” But Uraraka still looked concerned. She reached a hand out, lightly touching his shoulder.

“It’ll all work out, Deku.” she told him in her lighthearted voice. “You’ll see!”

But Katsuki didn’t show up the next day either. Or the day after. Finally, Izuku had the courage to pull Kirishima aside and ask him, “Is Kacchan okay?”

Kirishima blinked and looked away. “I-I’m not really supposed to say anything about it because it’s not really set-in-stone, but he got a work study interview with a local hero.”

Izuku let out a sigh of relief, placing his hand on his chest. “Okay…yeah, okay. Good.”

Kirishima smiled awkwardly and the two made small chit chat before parting ways.

The next day, Izuku walked into class, placing his stuff down on the floor next to him. Shoto sat behind him, giving him a cute wink before sitting down that made Izuku blush slightly. As Izuku reached into his backpack, he felt it—the smoldering heat rained down on him, coiling around his limbs and joints, swelling like liquid fire. The scent of sweet candies filled Izuku’s nose, disorienting him briefly, blurring images in waves off the walls. He touched his temple in a failed attempt to balance himself, trying to focus his vision. Despite knowing better, his gaze travelled upwards, squinting through the blinding furnace.

And immediately wished he hadn’t. Katsuki entered the room, Aizawa’s hair immediately went up, fixated on Katsuki, who shot their teacher a glaring look, but the room slowly cooled. “Control your quirk or I’ll do it for you.”

“Tch.” was the only response Katsuki gave, sitting down next to Kirishima, across the room. Aizawa’s hair waterfalled past his shoulders and the heat still lingered, covering their heads in warm sweat throughout the class period. Occasionally, when it became swelteringly unbearable, Aizawa’s hair would go back up, pinning his eyes on Katsuki, who just took notes and said nothing.

After class, Katsuki was the first one up, sweeping his belongings into his backpack. Izuku tried to pack his things away quickly, but Katsuki was out the door by the time Izuku had thrown his backpack over his shoulders. He just wanted to talk to him, let him know how sorry he was that things didn’t work out, but he hoped—

What? That things could be how they were before? When he was an asshole to you? As Izuku wiped the sweat from his brow, he couldn’t help but convince himself to say nothing.

“Midoriya, you ready to go?” Shoto asked, hold out his hand.

Izuku nodded and exhaled slowly. “Yeah. I think I’m ready.”

A piece of wood splintered in between Izuku’s toes and he cursed again, fully bringing him back to the present. Things can never go back, Izuku realized. Not ever.

---

“God, that felt great.”

The woman climbed off of Katsuki and crashing down against the pillows. Katsuki closed his eyes—it had felt great. Despite being extremely small framed, Katsuki liked the way she took charge. The less work Katsuki had to do, the better. Occasionally, their eyes would lock and she had delivered on her promise: the forest green contacts peered into him. He got up off the bed to leave, grabbing his pants and started to put them on when he felt a soft touch on his wrist. She had wrapped her tiny, boney fingers around him. “Leaving so soon?”

“I have somewhere I have to be.” the lie left his mouth before he could stop it.

She must’ve picked up on it because she laughed, telling him, “Yeah, okay.” sarcastically, but she still rolled towards him, saying nothing else as he checked to make sure he had everything. Phone…wallet…keys? he thought as he double checked all the pockets. “So what’s with the green contacts?”

He stopped, looking over to glare at her.

“Oh, did I hit a nerve?” she playfully asked him, giggling.

“Don’t.” he told her and she sighed loudly, her voice groaning.

“Come on, one more round and then you can leave.” She let go of him, but the green eyes stared up at him, begging him to stay.

And he couldn’t say no. Not to those eyes. His lips crashed into hers, opening her mouth with his tongue. She moaned loudly as he caressed her.

“Could you be any louder—?!” a voice said harshly.

Turning around, Katsuki saw none other than Nebina Kogo. Truthfully, it was the last person that Katsuki ever thought he would see again. She was older now and her slim frame was outlined in the doorway. Not much had changed, but she was taller and her hips wider. Anger seared through Katsuki as he suddenly remembered: Nebina was the person that Izuku had lost his virginity to.

Nebina gasped suddenly, her hand flying to her heart as if she was trying to grasp it between her fingers. She collapsed onto her knees and Katsuki got up to help her, but she was really okay within a few moments, taking a couple deep breaths. “You always were an angry one, Kacchan.”

Did she collapse because of me? Katsuki asked himself. Nebina was a true empath and could feel the emotions of others around her. Katsuki took a couple deep breaths as well, to calm himself upon remembering that.

“Oh, do—do you guys know each other?” the woman on the bed asked, reaching for her pants to cover herself, but Katsuki made no such attempt.

“Yeah.” Katsuki told her, not taking his eyes off Nebina. “And I have a few questions.”

---

Izuku couldn’t sleep that night. As his mind raced between Shoto and Katsuki, Izuku knew what he had to do. He just didn’t know if he could do it. Occasionally, the thought of him just being single for the rest of his life. I’m here to be a hero—I’m here to develop my quirk—

“My….quirk?” he looked at his hands as an idea popped into his head. He rushed over to his bed carelessly tossing the covers over him. He knew it was probably a bad idea. 5% only, he told himself…just to see how it works.

If it even works.

His eyes closed, allowing his body to slowly fall asleep. He felt the power of One-For-All rush through his body, pushing itself through him further. 5%, he thought. Only use 5%. And he drifted into a deep slumber. Deep maroon eyes stared back at him underneath his eyelids. Let me stay here, forever, with you…arms took him in a loving embrace before lips fell onto his. The kiss was deep and passionate—something Izuku hadn’t felt in so long. “Love me, Kacchan.” Izuku told him through the hazy kiss.

“Midoriya?” a voice said far away.

“Ka—kacchan!” he yelled out, pulling him in as close as he possibly could.

“Midoriya!”

Izuku awoke in his room, sweat dripping down his face. The gray and blue eyes of Shoto looked back at him. “Are you okay?” Shoto asked him, hints of concern written across his face. “You were screaming.”

Izuku clutched his chest, trying to control his breathing. “Sorry.” His eyes averted Shoto’s gaze. But instead, he took a deep breath. “Todoroki, I really have to tell you something—something I should have told you about weeks ago.”

“Can it wait?” Shoto asked. “We are being summoned.”

“Summoned? By who?”

“You mean by whom.” Shoto corrected him.

“Very well.” Izuku didn’t try to hide his eye roll and vexed, he asked, “Who is summoning us?”

“My father.” Shoto said. “Said he found All Might. And it isn’t looking good.”

(previous)(all)

#bakugou katsuki #izubaku #bakudeku #bakugou x deku #deku x bakugou

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bokunoheroanalysisforthefuture · 4 years ago

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So I would have done this earlier, but my day decided to start with a headache, and I only just got the medication to kick in to handle it, so. Let’s see how Izuku’s training goes in the second half of the chapter.

(Reminder: Don’t clean up trash dumps without proper safety gear and tetanus shots, that’s how you get sick with like twenty different things and die.)

[No. 2 - Roaring Muscles]

They meet again at the Dagobah- I mean the Takoba Municipal Beach Park at 6 AM, which is an hour that would daunt many. The narration from Izuku notes that receiving the power won’t be so easy, while transitioning to the first scene of said training:

Really, Izuku? Starting a bit on the high end of the scale there, aren’t you? Well, I mean, compared to the actual trucks and stuff, I suppose it’s not the highest end, but still. Also, that All Might shirt, I’m cackling. And All Might just sitting on top of the fridge and giving commentary, ah, my exact weird niche of humor.

(Nice ‘no dumping’ sign there. Seriously, so many trucks and cars just in that one pile??? How??? Did they get there??? I suppose strength / telekinesis / whatever, but still, this seems excessive.)

Izuku, naturally, flops to the ground in defeat while All Might makes light of the lack of progress. Izuku mentions that All Might is 274 kilos alone, which All Might corrects to 255 - at least in that form, anyways. Izuku then finally gets to asking why he’s hauling garbage across the beach.

His hands are so fucking big what the hell. Also ouch, All Might’s blunt statement of fact making Izuku slide into a depressive spiral, complete with tears. He quickly clarifies that he means Izuku’s body isn’t ready, which pulls Izuku out of said tearfest with the most hilarious ‘what the fuck’ face I have yet seen.

Like I’m sorry I’m just cackling at literally all of this, it’s just portrayed so fantastically. All Might taking all the pictures, Izuku’s confused face, then the horror in his expression as he imagines his body exploding. Man, remember that time he was worried about losing his limbs? Good times, good thing he’s going to immediately forget that once he has his quirk.

Izuku, chapter 2: My limbs!!!!

Izuku, chapter 4: Friendship ended with limbs. Now OFA is my best friend.

Also, before I move on and forget, another description of OFA provided here - it binds the physical strength of many people into one. Aka, a stockpile of power. I wonder if anything else also gets stockpiled with that physical strength, hmm… [thonk]

Another addition from discord, since I didn’t notice the translation error: All Might says his quirk is All For One there. I can’t believe he was the true villain of the series all along.

Izuku repeats to clarify - he’s at the beach to train his body by hauling trash. All Might gives him a yes and a thumbs up, before continuing on to explain how the beach has been like this for years, with Izuku agreeing, bringing up the currents and how people add to it by dumping garbage there, even when they shouldn’t… not that anyone who lives around there ever comes there.

Holy fuck All Might stronk. That was a tap and it went cronch.

Right, All Might goes on to explain that young heroes are only after fame and glory, but that heroism is all about volunteer work, no matter how unglamorous, and that they’ll strive to bring back the beautiful view - as he puts his hand on top of the fridge and crunches it down hard enough to send debris flying all around it.

All Might calls this Izuku’s first step on the path to becoming a hero, and Izuku looks around and hesitantly asks whether All Might really means all of the beach, as the scene zooms out to give a sense of just how much work would be involved in that. All Might asks if Izuku wants to get into UA, which Izuku confirms, because All Might went to UA, so he definitely wants to go there if he can.

BABEY. Also All Might calling him a blind fanboy, which I mean, it’s true, but still.

All Might tells Izuku that, as he said before, it’s not possible for someone quirkless, and that that’s the sad reality of things. He also explains that UA’s hero course is the toughest there is. Izuku picks up on what All Might means - he has ten months to make his body ready to take on the power of One For All.

All Might turns back around with a sheaf of papers that… where did he pull them from even? Magic, I guess. He explains that those papers are his self-designed ‘Pass The Test, American Dream’ plan.

...huh, from the sound of that, if Izuku had stuck to it, he might have finished earlier than he did in canon? Which I guess makes sense with how he set himself back being a dumb, desperate teenager, but still weird to think about. Izuku notes that even his sleep schedule is planned out, and All Might whispers that it’ll be really tough, and asks if Izuku can do it. Izuku says he can, and that he knows he has to work harder than anyone to make it.

And so began ten hellish months. Starting out with dragging an empty locker set up to Toshinori’s truck and running around with tires over his shoulders.

We transition over time, seeing Izuku in class looking exhausted and thinking about dealing with another ten months of that training. He then starts thinking about his time left and his training schedule, and then about possible self-training right after he was handed a tailor-made schedule to follow by his hero and idol. What a legend.

...wait, we can calculate when this is, since the entrance exam is noted to be February 26th (which for my purposes is going to be a Sunday, for reasons I’ll get into next chapter)! So that’s 294 days, plus the week’s space Izuku wants…

Since he’s in class, I’m going to assume this is actually ‘Monday, May 2nd’ and the week he’s giving himself isn’t exact. So this is already a bit into the training, considering that we know the following:

Japanese school start the second Monday of April

Katsuki was still 14 the day of the sludge villain incident

His birthday is April 20th

That first training session had to be on a weekend

The Sludge Villain incident had to be either the 14th or 15th, with that training session at the beach two days later, on the 16th or 17th. This means that Izuku’s been training for two weeks when he starts considering how to alter his training.

Math! Where was I again? Oh right, Izuku considering how he won’t finish in time with the limited hours he can spend actually doing strength training, and what time he can afford to shave. His muttering is pervasive enough that the entire class pauses to stare at him, before the teacher finally knocks him out of the fugue by extending his arm and knocking him on the head, asking if he hit his head during the villain attack (which is again called the mudman, but I love how the fandom just collectively decided ‘sludge villain’). While the class calls him ridiculous, neurotic, and creepy, he realizes he also has to factor in study time for the exams. Also of note:

No reaction from Katsuki. Hmm.

We next get into a montage of the training, showing all the hard work Izuku is putting in. His studying is being pushed way too late at night (yikes, that’s 2:10 AM), and there’s books to translate there. I can’t read all of them, but I’ll see what I can do.

Top shelf:

ヒーロー [hiirou] 大会 [taikai] (assembly, conference) ???

Not confident on the kanji, but it’s something hero related, and I suspect would have to do with heroics laws or history.

Bottom shelf:

アメリカン [Amerikan] [H or N-styled kanji??]

Some kind of book on American… something. Possibly related to politics or history, or perhaps literature?

Yeah, that’s all I can pick out, the rest is just too small for me to discern confidently. We can probably assume it’s stuff relevant to his studies, though.

Back with the montage, Izuku’s got some bags under his eyes for a good number of these, showing how much sleep he’s putting off and how much he’s overworking himself. He’s practically asleep in class, he throws up during training, and then we get to his breaking point:

How do we keep forgetting he has both a truck and a segway? I seriously want to know what happened to both of them.

Toshinori initially thinks Izuku’s just giving up for the day, but then he actually takes a look and realizes Izuku’s overworked himself. He explains that his plan was designed specifically to get Izuku’s body ready before the exam date, but that Izuku’s hasn’t stuck to it. He notes that overdoing it is no good, and asks if Izuku really wants to pass.

Izuku, heaving for breath, says he does, but he doesn’t wanna just pass. He has to work harder than anyone else, or else he’ll never catch up, and that he wants to be like his mentor, the strongest hero.

Such desperation! Toshinori sees it as well, and realizes Izuku’s focused on the far future. He swells into All Might, picking up Izuku and calling him a blind fanboy with dumb zeal, and that that’s exactly what he likes to hear. Also, RIP Izuku, you’re fucking dead bro. He says he gets where Izuku is coming from, but that this isn’t a time to panic, and that he’ll modify the plan for him. Izuku shakily replies that All Might isn’t old.

And so we transition one last time, to February 26th, 6 A.M. - Exam Day.

That is a well earned roar of victory, considering that’s the last of the trash on the beach, already moved to position to be shoved into the truck and dropped at the dump. The entire place is spotless (asides from all the seepage into the sand, but we won’t worry about that) and Toshinori is impressed at the timing and the exceeding of his expectations. I’m gonna assume he was gone for a while in order to be impressed with the difference and the final appearance of the beach. He’s so impressed, in fact, that he swells right up into All Might.

Izuku wobbles and slips from the top of his pile, just to be caught by his mentor, who tells him well done. Izuku pants out that he did it, though he’s still got those eyebags… seriously, kid, pace yourself. All Might is impressed, and shows him his phone while Izuku shakily gets to his feet.

Seriously his hands are so fucking huge what the fuck. How does he type on his phone in that form. Also, that difference between the limp noodle of ten months ago, and the Izuku heading into the exam is notable:

Holy heck he buff now. All Might says Izuku is a true vessel now, and Izuku shakily replies that he feels like he cheated, what with all the help he got, and that he feels blessed for it. All Might thinks that that’s wrong, it’s because of his own efforts that he earned it. He tells Izuku to quit being a crybaby, and that it’s time for the award ceremony.

While plucking a hair from his bangs, he mentions that there’s a big difference between being born with a silver spoon and working your butt off to get it, and that Izuku should take to heart that he earned the power fair and square. Izuku thinks it’s like a twist out of a comic book, right in his reach, and then:

Fantastic. All Might says it doesn’t matter what it is Izuku eats, so long as he gets his DNA. Izuku mutters that it isn’t how he’d thought it’d go, and the narrative mentions the exam begins in three hours from that moment. And so the chapter closes out, with a lot of work put in by our green bean hero-in-training.

Even knowing this is what happened from the anime and fanfics, I’m still surprised Izuku actually sort of defied / ignored All Might’s plans and advice to push himself harder. I imagine this is a trend we’ll see a lot of going forward - even in his hero worship, he also lacks the restraint that keeps him from injuring himself as much as he does.

Also, forget teacher All Might, where’s the personal trainer All Might / Toshinori fics? He’s clearly a LOT better at that tailored, one on one physical training, as opposed to the class teaching or lesson planning stuff. On examination of the evidence and what went into it, we can determine the following about Izuku's training plan and the events of the chapter:

He would have been ready for OFA before the day of the exam, and probably gotten in just enough combat training in order to be able to handle the robots.

He would NOT have finished cleaning the beach at that point; it probably would have been a project Toshinori had him finish over the month between the exams and the start of high school.

At some point soon, I’ll put together a side document that’ll keep track of estimated dates for stuff. I’m sure there’s more thoughtful and accurate ones out there, but, well. Might as well make one of my own. Meanwhile, I’ll get up that character sheet for Izuku and then head into the third chapter.

#chapter 2 #opening arcs #readthrough #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #midoriya izuku #yagi toshinori #a longer post than usual #but we got through everything for this chapter!#zoom zoom #let's fucking go #so many good images from this chapter #I still crack up every time i see that 'what the fuck' face

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seokiloquy · 5 years ago

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Red Pens Pt 1- Tsukishima Kei

AU: TA -> Co-workers

Word count: 1.7k

*I’m not 100% sure how teacher’s assistants work and they work differently with each school, so just go along with the fake system I created

*Nor do I know anything about physics so you’ll see me dodge some content about that…

Pt 1 | Pt 2

“You are required to have a teacher's assistant,” Tsukishima’s boss said. Tsukishima received a call that morning telling him to go to the Dean’s office after teaching his first class. “It’s part of the program at this university. These T.A.’s are going to be the next professors, the next people teaching. You need to have one.”

Tsukishima frowned and pushed up his glasses. “But teacher’s assistants do all of the work. Aren’t I paid to teach?”

“You are still going to teach,” his boss sighed. “Teacher’s assistants lessen the workload on you. They mark essays and tests, but you still get the final say on everything. Professor's want teacher’s assistants, Tsukishima.”

He didn’t want one. He liked the work. He likes marking tests and essays, helping his students understand their mistakes to improve and rolling his eyes at the assignments he knew were done last minute.

Maybe he could go through all of the assignments and only give his teacher’s assistant the ones that didn’t have any care put into them. Or maybe he’ll give in-depth tests that’ll make them want to quit.

Tsukishima looked up at his boss. “Fine. I want a good one.”

His boss waved him out of the door. “They’re all good, Tsukishima.”

Tsukishima raised from his seat and turned to leave. “Oh, I bet they are.”

Tsukishima fired the first teacher’s assistant.

The second one quit.

The third one was fired too.

And you were the fourth. Fourth time's the charm, right?

Despite your friend’s warnings to not take the teacher’s assistant position, you took it anyways. Once you walked into the room and sat where the T.A. sits, the students gave you a look of pity. One student even came up to you and wished you good luck.

You heard the rumours about Tsukishima's past teacher assistants, that he scolds them constantly during class for not knowing the content when he gives them a chance to teach or that he sends them to get coffee. You even heard the rumour of the last teacher’s assistant asking out Tsukishima and them getting rejected, and being told he doesn’t date teacher’s assistants.

You took the job knowing all of those things. You thought it was odd though, he had an amazing reputation for being a good teacher, one that helped students and listened to their concerns. You had seen it. One of your friends had dragged you to one of his classes to sit in on it and it was captivating. He spoke clearly and casually, made the students laugh and interested in the subject matter, and answered questions with careful consideration.

Also, he wasn’t bad to look at, but you weren’t going to tell anyone that.

Tsukishima arrived a few minutes late and apologized to his class and announced that they were going to start shortly. He saw you sitting in the T.A.’s spot and glared. It wasn’t required for you to sit in for classes since you already had your degree in education and a minor on the subject he was teaching (physics), so it wasn’t like you had to sit there to learn it. However, you didn’t see any reasons to not sit in for his class. It only deepened your understanding of the subject and where they were in the course.

He placed his bag and coat on his desk and walked towards you.

You straightened your back and smiled. “Hello.”

“I didn’t want another T.A.”

You raised your eyebrows. “It’s nice to meet you too. My name is (F/N) (L/N). And, well, you got one. I don’t think you can fire people on their first day unless they seriously mess up and I’m not quitting.”

His eyes narrowed slightly but didn’t glare. You took this as a good sign or at least an okay one.

“You should start,” you said, cutting him off before he could say anything else. “Your students are waiting.”

Tsukishima walked over to the front of the classroom and quieted everyone down, which was surprisingly fast, and gave a short explanation of what they were going to cover in today’s lesson. As the student got out their laptops, he introduced you as the new T.A and began class.

You enjoyed it just as you thought it would. You were tempted to take notes for when you had to mark assignments and tests, but thought that would give him a bad impression of you.

Halfway through the lesson, Tsukishima turned to you, a barely visible smirk on his lips, but you saw it.

He asked you a question regarding the material, testing whether or not you knew what was going on. Everyone’s eyes went to you. This is how he fired the first teacher assistant. He complained to the Dean that he didn’t want a teacher’s assistant that didn’t know the course content and that it would negatively impact the students.

You hesitated for a second, preparing your answer — it wasn’t an easy question.

“Do you not know?” He asked.

“No,” you said calmly, “I want to give out a fully thought out answer.” You paused for another moment and said your answer.

He looked at you and then carried on.

You went through a couple of classes like that, Tsukishima asking you questions sporadically, giving you a second to think about it, and you answering. Sometimes he saw students write down your answers or nod to what you were saying. Some would add on to your comment and it would derail the class, but always in a good direction.

You were still sitting at the desk when class was over like you did every day just in case he needed you to do something. He did ask you to get coffee for him, but he always gave you enough money to get one yourself. He only gave you tests to mark instead of essays. You could tell he didn’t trust you yet. You understood that, especially as an aspiring teacher, you definitely would want to double-check your teacher assistant’s work because you thought they would do it well.

Over the next few weeks, you and Tuskishima had found an unspoken rhythm. You worked well together. You haven’t been fired, nor did you quit. You were reliable with your knowledge on the content, clearly shown when he picked on you, even though most teacher’s assistants stayed quiet during the classes, sometimes he would stop you on your way out and ask your opinions on marks for students or their work.

Today, he had asked you to stay back. Tsukishima went behind his desk for a minute and took out a large stack of papers. He carefully placed it on the table in front of you and handed you a red pen.

“These are the student’s essays from last week,” he said. “Mark them please.”

“You want me to mark essays?” You asked, numbly taking the pen from his hand.

“Yes? You’re a teacher’s assistant aren’t you?” He turned around and sat in his chair. He reached under his desk and brought up another stack of papers. “Unfortunately, I don’t have the time to do all these myself, so I created a system. I try to double-check things I mark because even I make mistakes, I'll do this pile, you do that pile, and then we switch when we’re done.”

You nodded. “Do you want me to write any comments or just read it and give a grade at the top?”

He leaned back into his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Do you not know how to mark essays?”

You rolled your eyes slightly. “Of course I do. Most professors have different ways of marking so I want to know the way you prefer it.”

Tsukishima grabbed an extra red pen from his desk. “Are there professors who don’t add comments?”

“You’d be surprised,” you laughed. “I’m assuming you add them then?”

He nodded and started marking.

Your red pen was flying across the paper. You added constructive criticisms as well as praises when something was well written. Since Tsukishima was the final mark decision-maker, you added a tentative mark to the top of the page in pencil and when you looked over at his desk you saw that he was doing the same thing, awaiting the second opinion.

It was closing toward eight at night when you finished your stack. You leaned back and closed your eyes yawning, rubbing your hand that now stung from all of the writing.

He was done his stack a few minutes before you and was rubbing his hand as well. He grabbed the papers off his desk and brought them over to you, sitting in the empty chair beside yours.

“Double checking is easier,” he said, pushing up his glasses. He does that a lot, you noticed. “You look through it and make sure there isn’t anything the other person missed. When we’re done we’ll just put in the final mark.”

“You want my opinion on the final mark?” You asked, taking a snip of your now cold coffee.

He shrugged. “Why not? It’s always good to get a second opinion.”

He was right, double-checking was easier. It only took you about an hour and a half to go through all of them, only stopping when there was a question about the mark given or the comments. He would laugh at the first few essays and say that you were a hard marker.

He decided that most of your marks were sound, only giving a few percent increase or decrease and each time you asked why he did it.

It was almost eleven when you were completely done. You had your jacket on and your bag around your shoulder.

“I’ll see you next week,” you said and headed for the door.

“Wait.”

You turned around. Tsukishima turned off the lamp on his desk and caught up to you. “Do you want to grab coffee?”

You yawned. “Sure. Do you want your usual? I’ll bring it to you for the morning class on Monday.”

He grabbed your arm, turning you to face him fully. “Not for me. Do you want to get coffee with me.”

You looked up amused. “I thought you don’t date teacher’s assistants.”

He let go of your arm and laughed. “You heard about that?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll make an exception for you.”

You laughed but shook your head. “Wait until I’m a teacher.”

Thank you for reading! I hope that you and your family are staying safe!!! There could probably be a part 2 for this, but I like the way it ended - Kiwi

Posted: 03/07/2020

#Haikyuu x reader #tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #Haikyuu #x reader #oneshot #oneshots #haikyuu oneshots #haikyuu reader insert #reader insert #aus #haikyuu aus #fluff #haikyu #anime x reader #anime #manga x reader #manga

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billyhargrovesbabe · 5 years ago

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grounded | billy hargrove

Long-time no see! To make up for my time away, I have this little baby for ya. It’s longer than my other posts, but I definitely think it’s worth it of course, I could be a bit biased. All joking aside, I hope you guys enjoy! It starts with a little bit of a onesided crush from the reader on Steve, but don’t worry. Our favorite guy (who just looks so deliciously badass in this gif) is the main focus. Remember folks: consent is key, and it’s never the victim’s fault. Never.

Word Count: 4,653

Warnings: Dissociation, sexual assault, mentions of abuse, swearing, victim-blaming (self-blaming), panic attack, and I think that about covers it?

There were times where you didn’t quite feel like your world was real. It wasn’t like you were delusional. You just sort of... floated sometimes. Like you were there, and you were living your life, but it was through this misty haze that separated your consciousness from your body. You didn’t really know how to explain it, honestly. And it’s not like you could predict it or control it. Sometimes it would just last a few minutes. Sometimes it would go on for a week or two.

The first time it happened was at a party. You had gone with Carol and Nicole, your two best friends, with the promise that a certain pretty-haired boy would be there. At the time, you had a major crush on Steve Harrington. He was one of your close friends, and you were convinced you were in love with him. And Carol and Nicole used that little fact to drag you to the party— nevermind that he had recently been rumored to have started dating a certain Nancy Wheeler. When your constant efforts to flirt with him went unnoticed (or worse, laughed off), you decided to try and make him jealous. You approached a senior boy who had been eyeing you all night. One who was well-known for being sighed over in the cafeteria. One Carol and Nicole had checked out before, despite Tommy sometimes sitting right next to the former when it happened. You figured a little kissing wouldn’t hurt. You hadn’t kept track of how much alcohol you were drinking, and he talked you into another few shots. Before you knew it, you were drunk. Not drunk enough to go into a back bedroom with him, but definitely drunk enough for him to get more than a little handsy with you.

It was all fun and games until he started trying to grab your chest. You batted his hands away a few times before he started to get frustrated. You remember what he said. Sometimes, late at night when you can’t fall asleep, you still hear his rasp of “quit being such a fucking tease, it’s just your tits” brush across your ear and send chills down your neck. You stopped pushing his hands away after that. You thought maybe, just maybe, if you let him try then Steve would see you were open to fooling around. Maybe he’d look at you if he thought you were as fun as Carol or Nicole. You glanced over the nameless senior boy’s shoulder, searching for him. You saw him across the room, laughing with Tommy and Carol. Nicole excitedly pointed you out to the three of them, and your heart broke as you saw him raise his glass towards you. Egging you on. Not caring another boy was feeling you up for all to see.

It was then that hazy state washed over you for the first time, leaving you with this surreal sense of being that made you feel simultaneously detached from your body and more connected to it than you had ever been before. You barely registered his hands brushing across your body, touching you where no other guy had ventured before. Violating you. He felt up your chest, squeezed and groped your ass, and had just finished working his way to the apex of your thighs before you finally managed to feign a sudden wave of drunkenness that had you on the floor and finally safe from his greedy hands. You were left in that floaty, surreal headspace until Nicole called you the next afternoon. You finally learned his name. Allard Collins. She demanded to know everything that had happened between the two of you. She was disappointed to find out it hadn’t progressed much further than what she saw. You realized she thought you were lying when both she and Carol cornered you, asking you about it on Monday before class.

You felt the haze wash over you again as they tried to dig more information out of you. They kept bringing it up, giggling and talking about what a snag he was and “great catch” and “better give it to him again quick if you want him to stick around.” It wasn’t until Friday, when they heard he had gone home with another girl from the party a week before, that they believed you. But by that point, the damage was done. You had been in that floaty headspace all week, and you weren’t sure you were ever going to come back down to earth again.

You slowly stopped hanging out with them, and slowly the floating stopped. You found some new friends, started to get close to Nancy and Barb, and began separating yourself more and more from the incident. You ignored the voice in your head that hissed it’s your fault and you deserved it. You got over your infatuation with Steve, swearing men in general off after a while. You’d still find yourself in that floaty space every once in a while, but you learned to manage it. You could still function just fine and go about your daily business. You just weren’t... connected. But that was okay. Honestly, sometimes it was nice.

Every time, you were aware it was happening. And there was some small voice that told you it was bad and wrong and shouldn’t feel as... peaceful as it did. But you never had to feel anything when you were there. You didn’t have to feel the pain or the panic or the anxiety that would set in when a guy looked at you funny or a girl would talk about a particularly steamy makeout session. You didn’t have nightmares when you were in that floaty space. You didn’t freak out when you went on dates and a boy tried to kiss you if you were floating. (You had tried to stay grounded once on a date, the first guy after the party, and it ended terribly when he tried to kiss you after walking you back to your door. You almost had a panic attack.) When Barb went missing, you weren’t even fazed. You had already been floating for almost a full week by that point, withdrawing from her and Nancy as the latter started dating Steve. That was the longest time you lived in that hazy existence. It was another week before you finally came crashing back down.

When you crashed, you crashed hard. Everything would hit you, all at once, and you’d often wind up having panic attacks. Not that anyone but your mom knew. You kept it hidden from everyone you could, only turning to her because you didn’t know who else to turn to. Even she didn’t know the real reason they started. You had cited school and bullying, and she had accepted those answers without hesitation. She was content to offer whatever help she could, letting you stay home after your hazy periods when you would crash and be so anxious you got physically sick. She hoped with enough love, it might go away.

You got used to this new reality, drifting along and floating sometimes while being painfully grounded at others. You were content with it, practically even happy. You were fine with only experiencing your love life through a clouded sense of touch until he came roaring into town.

The first time you saw him— the week of Halloween, 1984— he walked into your math class. It was Monday. You were still floating from a date you had gone on the Saturday before. You were floating all through class as he walked in the door, the teacher directed him to take an empty seat, and he scanned the room. You were floating as he smirked, spotting the empty desk behind you. You were floating, barely registering it as he sauntered down your aisle and practically collapsed in the desk behind you. You were floating for the next few minutes, scribbling notes down and paying the new kid no mind (unlike the rest of the girls in class). It wasn’t until he tapped your shoulder that you stopped floating.

You blinked, registering the sudden intrusion into your personal space, and stiffened. A year of flinching every time someone unexpectedly invaded your space and having to make up an excuse as to why had quickly trained you not to draw attention. You ever so carefully leaned away from his finger, trying not to let the panic overwhelm you, as you turned to face him. You turned to meet the prettiest blue eyes you had ever seen, a wild head of blond curls, a sun-kissed face, and a very disarming smirk looking up at you from where his head was resting on his hand.

“You wouldn’t happen to have a pencil I could borrow, would ya doll?” His raspy voice seemed to hum the request. Without missing a beat, you offered him the one in your hand. He sent you a toothy smile and a wink that made your heart stop. You mechanically turned back to face the front, reached down to your backpack, and grabbed a new one as if nothing else had happened. It wasn’t until you were four lines of notes down the page that you realized he hadn’t had a notepad in front of him. Or a binder. Or any paper at all really. You glanced back to see him still watching you, drumming your pencil against his desk without a scrap of paper in sight. He smirked again when he caught you peeking. You whipped back to the front and refused to give him the satisfaction of catching you glancing back at him again.

It wasn’t until the bell rang, signaling the end of class that he caught your attention again.

“Mind if I hang onto this?” You almost shrieked, jolting forward in your seat and practically grabbing the edge of your desk. His voice in your ear and the unexpected presence at your back had sent your stomach into summersaults and your heart flying. It only took you a millisecond to gather your wits, but it seemed like that was enough to make Billy curious. You turned around to face him, and you were quickly caught off guard. He wasn’t smirking in victory at catching you off guard, like you were half-expecting. Nor was he sending you another flirtatious grin. Instead, he was watching you with a hint of... what looked like confusion. Maybe even suspicion? Surprise?

“Hang onto what?” You hated how breathless you sounded. You knew he clocked it too, from the assessing look in his eyes. It was only there for a moment before he slid right back into that easy, flirtatious persona again. But you had seen it. And you weren’t sure what to do.

“The pencil.” He raised his eyebrow as if it were the most obvious thing. You supposed it was. You just weren’t quite fully firing yet. “After all, you never know when you might need to give a hot chick your number.” You could see his mind working behind the wink he sent you.

You sent him a tight smile, still a little off-guard and not sure how to feel about his blatant flirting. “Keep it. Not that there are many ‘hot chicks’ in Hawkins. At least, not to what I’m guessing are your standards.”

“Not if they’re trying to compete with you.” Oh, he was smooth. You’d give him that. “What’s your name, sweet cheeks?”

“Y/N. You are?”

“The man of your dreams. But you can call me Billy.” That time, you rolled your eyes. You started gathering your stuff as people began filtering out the door and into the hallway.

“Well Billy, keep the pencil. Good luck finding those hot chicks.” You were the last two in the class, and you were hoping to get away with the last word. You should’ve known better.

“I don’t need luck. I already found one!”

You were halfway through the next class before you realized you hadn’t had a panic attack after crashing down to earth from your floating headspace. It was the end of the day before you realized it was the first time in almost three months you had crashed without having a panic attack.

Billy started to become an interesting factor in your life. He was in a decent number of your classes (which surprised you, since you didn’t exactly take it easy in school and he didn’t seem the type to really try). He stopped surprising you with little touches and invading your personal space after a few more attempts at it left you alert and uneasy around him. (You were half-convinced he was looking for something with these little touches. You weren’t sure what though.) Instead, Billy found other ways to flirt with you.

He was still just as verbally flirtatious towards you as he was other girls, but he relied more on eye contact and expressions with you. With other girls, it would be a causal touch here, or pinning them against the lockers there. But you always got the searching looks, the mischievous smiles, the lingering glances that lingered just a little too long. Honestly, he’d flirt with you more than he would them too. Sometimes he’d even stop flirting with one of them when you walked by in the hallway, just to make prolonged eye contact with you or send a little greeting your way. You’d long since gotten used to this little game and started playfully rejecting him or teasing him for his lines. You saw the little thrill in his eyes every time you snarked back. And you enjoyed the little moments with him too.

The stolen glances and fleeting words grounded you. The time you spent floating around slowly became shorter and far less frequent. Before you knew it, you had been grounded for a week. It was like Billy could see the hazy mist wash over your eyes, and he was always there with some sort of line to pull you back down to earth in the most charming way. You looked forward to your little chats with him. You heard the rumors about him getting into fights, and you didn’t doubt he had some anger issues. You could feel it, bubbling under the surface, and you could see it in his open defiance of authority in class. But you saw the gentle way he handled you, as if he knew without asking that you had been hurt. As if he knew the kind of interactions you needed to feel safe. He understood your boundaries in a way nobody else seemed to, and that drew you to him despite everything else. But you refused to do anything more than flirt.

Flirting was fun. Flirting was easy. Flirting was something he did with every girl in Hawkins, something that meant you could stay off of the radars of your ex-friends. Pursuing anything else meant he’d inevitably want to spend time with you outside of school. Pursuing anything else would put you right back in line with Tommy and Carol. And you didn’t want to go back there. You weren’t sure you’d ever come back down if you did. So instead you kept him at arm’s length, content to stay grounded in his stolen glances and flirty smiles whilst pretending to ignore his roving eye and the whispers of his conquests.

It stayed like that through the end of October, into November and December. And every time Billy would take even a moment’s break from his girl of the week to flirt with you, you counted it as a tiny victory. Winter break slowly crept in, and Tina’s annual New Year’s Eve party was suddenly marking the end of break. In true Tina Rager fashion, the girl had procured all the alcohol Hawkins High’s student body could drink and then some. The lawn was crawling with your classmates as you walked up to the house, blaring the biggest hits of the past year from Tina’s brand new sound system. It paid to have parents who were loaded.

You slowly wandered into the house, unsure of how to approach the rager. It had been almost two years since the last time you went to a party like this. You felt the haze start to creep in, clouding your mind before you had even taken a sip of alcohol. You weren’t even really sure why you were here. You had ignored your friends the year before when they tried to drag you to Tina’s party, so you had surprised both them and yourself when you agreed to go this year. All you could think of was a red shirt, left open down to his navel, a leather jacket, and breathtaking blue eyes when you agreed. You had even dolled yourself up, wearing a tight skirt and curling your hair for the occasion. You hadn’t recognized yourself when you stepped out of the house earlier that evening, and now you were stepping into another world.

Your friends dashed ahead of you, making beelines for either the dance floor or the liquor counter. Your eyes tried to scan the room, but you couldn’t find his blond mullet anywhere. The sound of cheers over the music reached your ears, and you followed them to the back door. There, you found a whole crowd of people surrounding what looked like two guys doing keg stands. Or at least, that was your best guess from the fringes of the very dense crowd. You could only guess it was Steve and Billy, facing off yet again. You turned your back on the jeers and the shouts of the rowdy group of teenagers, wandering through the sweat-filled and musty living room to the kitchen. You didn’t pay attention as you grabbed a bottle of what looked like whiskey and the bottle of coke and just poured. You didn’t keep track of how much of each was in your cup. You simply capped the bottles and took a swig, hoping the alcohol would help settle the nervous feeling in your stomach and the voice at the back of your head whispering you shouldn’t be here.

One of your friends found you with half your cup gone and dragged you on to the dance floor. You swayed there with the gyrating bodies, slowly letting the haze settle over you as unfamiliar hands and bodies brushed against yours. It had been a while since you had felt its familiar presence, but this time it felt wrong. It didn’t hold the same peace and comfort it once had. Now, it was confining. Constricting. But you weren’t sure how to escape it. All you could do was sway and down your drink until suddenly it was gone. As the bodies around pressed closer, the haze thickened. You felt a pair of hands grab your hips, pulling you against a teenage boy (that was very clear by the bulge pressing against your ass). You felt the familiar detachment settle in as the hands started to roam from your hips, up your body, and that heart-stopping dread took root in your core. You closed your eyes, hoping that would help, knowing it wouldn’t. You tried to breathe through your nose, telling yourself to just get through it. You felt it flow into every limb, as warm as the bodies around you, and the mist in your head thickened until it was practically a foggy soup. You were drowning in the familiar haze until suddenly the body against you was ripped away.

You didn’t know what was happening at first. You didn’t register the shouting, the cheering, and the shrieking until you had turned around to see Billy pummeling some boy you had never seen before. You watched blankly as Billy released the shirt of the boy he was beating, causing his new punching bag to drop to the floor. Clearly unable to support himself. Billy stepped back, reeling up for a kick, when his clear blue eyes flickered to yours. And that’s when you knew.

The horror that accompanied the realization swept over your body, and you tore your gaze from the California boy to the asshole at his feet. The asshole whose hands had been all over you. Who you had let feel you up, grope you, violate you yet again without doing a single thing to stop it. You felt the panic begin to set in. Your head began to spin with the information coming in all at once until you weren’t sure which way was up. You felt a hand grasp your arm, and you tried to struggle against it. You really did. But as your panic attack began, you had little strength left to fight whoever was leading you into the yard, away from the mass of people that had gathered at the sight of the fight. It wasn’t until you were seated in a car that you finally heard him.

“Breathe, y/n,” Billy’s voice rumbled through the small space. “Breathe. It’s okay. I’ve got you. You’re safe. That asshole isn’t gonna touch you again.” Your frightened eyes darted over to his face, and you tried to calm down. You really did. But you could still feel both sets of hands— Allard’s and the nameless boy from the party— roving your body. The leather jacket he had draped around your body to keep you warm left you feeling suffocated and stifled. You felt nausea grip your stomach, and the waves of heat crashed over your body. You threw yourself out of Billy’s car and onto the snowy ground, crawling a few feet away before vomiting up the liquor you had downed. You heard a car door slam and someone cursing as you began to hyperventilate on your hands and knees, tears streaming down your face and landing in the snow. You didn’t lift your head as boots stepped between you and your vomit, and you kept your eyes glued to the ground as the owner squatting in front of you.

“You’re safe, princess,” Billy tried to soothe you. Some sardonic voice in the very back of your head, removed from the panic that gripped your entire being, laughed at the pet name. He’s really pulling out all the stops, huh? “No one’s gonna hurt you while I’m here. Come on, breathe with me.” He set a slow rhythm. You tried to match it, finally lifting your eyes to him. You continued to sob and your breaths were uneven, leaving your lungs feeling raw in this slow cadence he set. Ever so slowly, your breaths started to even out. The waves of heat stopped washing over your body. The nausea holding your stomach in an iron-vice slowly relinquished its grip.

“There we go. That’s better. Now, how about getting into my Camaro before I freeze my balls off?” You saw the concern in his eyes, knowing his crass words were his way of trying to bluster through the tenderness he showed. You nodded, letting him help you get back in his car. He turned it on, blasting the heat. You finally realized how numb the cold had left you as your skin began to prick from the hot air thawing you out. The two of you sat in silence, neither daring to admit you were in new territory.

He knew. There was no way he didn’t. Most people didn’t realize it, but Billy was smart. He had to have picked up on your aversion to touch, your dissociative episodes, your tendency to space out when guys got too close. You might’ve been in denial for a long time about it, but you knew somewhere deep down that was why he had stopped leaning into you, touching you, and flirting with you like he did the others. And after tonight, you were sure he’d put together it had something to do with guys touching you. That same voice in the back of your head started hissing at you. He knows you’re damaged. He doesn’t want you anymore. Maybe he never did. But he certainly doesn’t now after seeing the mess you are. Not after seeing how easily you give it up to other guys. Nobody wants you. Nobody worth it anyways.

“You don’t have to tell me shit.” His voice was quiet, but it still felt like it cracked through the interior of his car. “Your call. But you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. Just know, no other jackass is gonna lay a fucking hand on you. Not when I’m around. Not while you’re my girl.”

Your eyes snapped over to him, and you finally let yourself look at him for the first time that night. You could see the rage still flooding his veins, still itching to be released. You could see the fury, directed not at you but the boy who had put his hands on you. You saw a need to and to defend, a side you had never seen directed your way before. You saw an affection that went past the surface-level flirting you had been doing for months. You saw a desire to claim you, to declare you his, and it sent thrills down your spine. And as his eyes flitted to yours, nervous as you let the silence sit after his declaration, you saw something that chilled you to the core.

You saw an understanding deep in Billy Hargrove’s eyes. You saw an understanding of the fear, the sense of defeat, the panic, the dread, and the helplessness that had washed over you. You saw something in his eyes that told you he was no stranger to someone else laying their hands on him and, while you were pretty sure it wasn’t in the same way you experienced it, it wasn’t any less violating. You saw something broken in him— the same thing you knew was broken in your eyes— and your heart aches for him. As he let you see into his soul with that single glance, you came to a decision. You wouldn’t ask why he seemed to understand so perfectly. You wouldn’t pry, just like he wasn’t prying with you. Instead, you would accept his protection and his affection. You would trust that he would tell you his trauma and pain when he was ready, just as you would tell him yours. And until then, you’d learn to help each other.

“Your girl, huh Hargrove?” Your voice rasped out, not quite full after the shouting from the party and the vomit in the snow. You cleared your voice, hoping it would help. “That’s quite a claim to stake. And I don’t know if you’ve picked up on it, but I’m a bit of a handful here.” You sent him an uneasy smile, hoping he’d catch your hint and let the events of the night go without any explanation.

A searching gaze as he scanned your face was the only response you got at first. When he saw you were okay, that you would manage for now, he let the worry slide for a mischievous (if not a little cautious) glint in his eye. “Oh sweetheart,” he drawled in response. He playfully let his eyes scan over your body, checking in to make sure it was okay before letting his gaze linger a little longer on your chest. “I’ve noticed. And let me say, I can’t wait to get a hand full.”

The lecherous wink he sent your way really sealed the deal as you felt a giggle bubble up. He was trying to act as if nothing had changed, as if it were business as usual, and you appreciated that more than he could ever know. He wasn’t perfect. And neither were you. You were both broken, but a small part of you wondered if just maybe you were broken in compatible ways. You got the feeling he wasn’t the only one in this car who helped the other feel a little more grounded.

#billy #Billy Hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #stranger things #stranger things reader insert #reader insert #billy reader insert #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove reader insert #billy hargrove angst #babe's writings #stranger things angst #angst #billy angst #billy hargrove stranger things #protective!billy #violent!billy #but when is he not

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sanders-sides-rebloger · 5 years ago

Text

Sleep and Stress

Part 1

TW: Slight angst, mentions of bullying, stress, overworking oneself

Word count: 2860

Summary: Thomas has a big project to finish over the weekend. He’s stressed about it and loses sleep over it, determined to finish it no matter what. Remy lectures him about the importance of self care sleeping properly. Except... Anxiety is taking the wheel this time.

A/N: Inspired by real events that happened to me! Yep, ya girl got stress ridden, once, over a hw assignment and now here is where it lead. Some sweet sweet content. I’d say it was worth it for the amount of time itd been my wips folder. The intro sucks but I promise it gets better

In this world people have always had their own personas with them. Specifically they are two beings from a persons mindset that can appear in the real world physically.

In these categories, Anxiety can be placed almost anywhere in the combinations. Depending on someone's personality, that anxious trait is usually paired with The Left Brain or the Right Brain, or in some cases, Morale and Logic.

Many historians and scientists theorize their origins in many ways. It was already proven they weren’t biologically transferred from parents. A famous article on google talked about how a married couple by the names of Martha and Alan who’ve had their own personas. As their child grew they didn’t show any signs of having aspects of their own, and they didn’t.

Below that were many links to interviews with famous political leaders, scientists, and more about the subject. It of course leads to the topic of religion, in some comments and topics that just became all controversial and too confusing.

“They always take the exact form of their host with a few minor differences.” One article said. ”They dress differently based on what they represent, though their voices are alike it can vary based on tone and attitude. It makes them appear to be slightly separate. And they can also talk to their host from inside their head, either it’s for reminders or a plain conversation.”

“The type of personas that rises from someone can vary. They always come in pairs. The most common ones are Anxiety, the Left and Right Brain, the Brain and Heart, Morale and Logic. There are other aspects outside of this spectrum such as Creativity that can form, but those are very rare and is more directed towards someone’s personality.”

“When a persona sinks down, they go into the ‘mindscape’ or an alternate plane of reality that exists inside of the hosts head.“

“Since they don’t appear and disappear out of thin air, they need a place to live in order to maintain their half human functions. That’s why they have rooms each of them go to for the host to enhance that part of themselves, including a space for that persona to reside in. It’s sort of like the mindscape is a living area in the conscious level of the mind, where memories and stored knowledge is retained.”

“It's like a Mind Palace.” Someone once said.

~~~

This leads us to Thomas Sanders, a senior in high school. He’s apart of that spectrum in which he too has personas of his own, Anxiety and Sleep.

For him, Anxiety appears when Thomas is going through something stressful. Often they talk together about certain situations that depend on the outcome, even if the reason is outright ridiculous. When it’s in public he usually summons him when he’s around a fair amount of people who also have their personas out with them, not wanting to look like the odd one out.

Sleep on the other hand..is an odd subject for him. When he grew up Sleep was the first to form during Thomas’ development and soon after, reveal himself. So he didn’t question him at first.

In middle school going into high school, students would make fun of him for being different. Thomas didn’t know what was different- he had personas just like everyone else so what made him so special? He was confused at first until he was able to see the bigger picture. He was one of the biggest targets the bullies chose as their prey and teased him over and over about it.

All because he had Sleep.

“What was Sleep? Why does it exist?” And so many other inappropriate comments. Thomas felt sick of it.

Of course when he told the staff about it, it shut them up for a while. His parents wanted to be more safe than sorry so he moved to a different school. Thomas agreed to himself that he would not show anyone publicly that he was different in any way, no matter how normal it may be for other students.

He met Joan and Talyn there. They never left him alone after quickly noticing how new he was with his closed off demeanor and shy attitude. They both really brought him out of his shell.

After becoming closer with the two he showed them eventually and he was pleasantly surprised by the result of their reactions as well. He still never really shows Sleep or Anxiety around in school to this day for fear of being seen as the odd one out, and he was content with that.

Now that Thomas has grown up a few years, he felt confident that he could be himself when he’s out in public. No one had ever seen a Sleep aspect before so he was bound to get a few questioning looks from people who walk past him. Maybe a few people from school would notice him outside, but he was beginning to accept that risk.

Besides, Joan and Talyn would make anyone regret whoever decides to talk behind Thomas’ back. They’d make them regret it.

Thomas was currently in his room, sitting in his desk. It’s Friday afternoon and he has two days left to finish this unholy project. Granted, being a senior in high school is great and all, however, Thomas would’ve gotten his history project done sooner if he was paying closer attention.

The problem was that Thomas messed up on the size of the project, subsequently making each square too big to fit on the entire front side on a sheet of paper. Immediately filled with regret, he began to erase the entire thing and start all over. Thomas had the chance to get a second one after school (just in case), but he’s terrified of confrontation.

Actually walk up to the teacher and talk to them? No thanks, he can do this on his own.

It sounds easy enough, but looking through his textbook, drawing the characters, and basically almost everything about it was difficult for him. The man had good talent in singing and is a darn great actor, but art was not his forte. He even had to color his poor excuse for an art project to get extra points. And as much as he did not want to do that, he was going to push himself today, he was gonna pass this class even if it killed him.

He checks the clock on his computer, 6:15pm. He just started about two hours ago nonstop and he got some stuff done, four squares were complete.

“If I’m being honest with you, it looks pretty good so far, but I bet you could do more if you worked a little longer.” Anxiety rises up beside Thomas, looking over his work. His voice was deeper than his host’s.

Anxiety wore a black hoodie, gray lines tracing all over it in a plaid pattern, a black t-shirt that read ‘Anxiety’ in bold letters to represent who he is, and wore dark black eyeshadow under his eyes.

The senior gets up and stretches his muscles in his arms and legs. Being glued to a chair for nearly two hours wasn’t the best idea, but he was gonna have to get used to it for a while.

“Today’s the day I’m really gonna pull myself through, Anxiety. No backing down this time!” Thomas says, his voice laced with determination.

While some students in Thomas’ class were fortunate enough to receive help from either friends or family, he was one of the unlucky souls in the group who he didn’t have much access to help. Both his parents were out on a business trip for the weekend, and Thomas has the house all to himself.

Joan and Talyn…? Well he didn’t want to bother them. Petty excuse, he knows, but what was he supposed to tell them if he asks for help? Even considering the fact they weren’t in the same class as him, they may just lecture him on getting enough sleep and he wasn’t in the mood for that.

Anxiety tucks his hands into the pockets of his dark hoodie and raises an eyebrow. Thomas was known to be a procrastinator at times which led to his grades dropping a few times in the past.

He was currently on his bed, scrolling through social media. He notices Anxiety’s suspicious gaze and looks beside him.

“What?” The senior asks in confusion, clearly not taking the hint.

“Let me just get to the point.” He pulls out Thomas’ wheeled chair and sits on it with the back side pressing against his chest. “You have a C- in the class, which is basically a failing grade, and you only have two days left until it’s due by Monday. It would be a shame if all that hard work went to waste.” He says in a taunting tone.

“What are you suggesting?” Thomas crosses his arms.

The darkly dressed boy drops his facade. “Basically the more you get done, the faster you’ll finish. And I really don’t need to be working overtime the sooner that due date approaches.” He groans, Anxiety droops his head slightly and massages his fingers through his scalp.

“I’ll just take a fifteen to twenty minute break in between each session. I have it all planned out.” Thomas waved his hand nonchalantly.

Anxiety looks towards Thomas, his expression falls.

“I’m being serious this time Thomas. You can’t let this one slip. If you don’t put all your effort on this project and you don’t get enough points, then something else in the way is just gonna bring you down. Maybe even worse than this one, and the cycle will just continue. Do you really want that?”

Thomas didn’t answer. Sure, he had the whole weekend. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t stay up late to finish if he wanted.

He glances at his project with a rush of determination flooding his system. It’s worth 150 points. He can do this, he just needed a little push.

Anxiety stands from the chair and leans against the wall nearby to allow room for Thomas to sit. The man stares down at his work with pure annoyance and desperation.

“God, I hate doing this.” He groans out and lays his head on the table.

The darker trait leans his head back against the wall, looking up blankly at the ceiling as if it had all the ceiling as if it had all the answers.

“Look, I’m not trying to be the bad guy here, but the faster you get this done the better it is for the both of us.”

“No, no. You’re right Anx.” He lifts his head back up. “I need to keep working… Plus I can’t even sleep anyway.” Thomas reaches for his phone and checks the time, seven-forty pm. He didn’t even realize how much time had passed. “Wherever he is.” He says with a sigh.

Thomas spent a good amount of time on his paper. He finished his tenth panel and is lightly underlining notes in his textbook to summarize for the next one. However the longer time went on, the more frequent the senior found himself massaging the aching tension from his neck and back more often.

He decided to call it quits for the night. He got ready and the second his lights went off Thomas flops to his bed immediately. Muffled yells, into his pillow, can be heard as Sleep rises up beside the bed.

Instead of his usual thick leather jacket, he wore a thin black cover up, pajama pants, his everyday white shirt that read ‘Sleep’ in bold letters with a bed and sleepy emoji. Adding to his style, and his trademark sunglasses were resting on top of his head.

“It’s about time you show up.” Remy says in his usual sassy tone.

“You can’t blame me for having a lot on my mind right now.” He groans, laying on his back.

“Jeez, how long did that guy keep you up for?” Remy slips himself underneath the covers with Thomas, taking off his sunglasses and setting them on the dresser.

“You mean Anxiety?”

“Yeah, him, whatever.”

“If you must know, I spent about another few hours trying to finish this project while your sorry butt was out partying at that concert.” He crosses his arms under his neck, staring up at the ceiling with a mocking tone.

Seeing personas going out and about on the streets is pretty normal. It wasn’t uncommon to see some of them roaming the streets on their own with or without their hosts.

Though as Thomas grew up, he saw a few of his classmates, who had some reveal themselves in the real world, would get bullied at schools because of how different they are. People made awful rumors how they would take over the world one day, call them names like ‘clones,’ and how they think they’re better than everyone else.

It made him sick to his stomach, it got so bad to the point there used to be places specifically like schools or restaurants that would ban people, with aspects from those places. It was horrible and a thing from the past.

Going off topic, some even befriend one another and go out just like what normal people do. It’s usually not for long, since people would need them back at some point.

It also takes the phrase ‘having some time for yourself’ to a whole new level in Thomas’ case. There have been so many movies nights that turned into popcorn throwing fights he’s had to break up between Remy and Anxiety.

“It was a My Chemical Romance concert!” Remy exclaims, dramatically putting a hand over his chest before he shifted, making himself more comfortable under the covers. “Girl, you know I couldn’t resist.”

Remy though, is a whole different story. He can be a pain at times, staying out for ungodly hours of the night. He can be unpredictable. Though he wouldn’t overdo it, unlike the incident they had a few years ago. Being the embodiment of Thomas’ nightly routine of proper rest, he physically can't sleep without Remy.

So when he’s out, sipping tea with his friends, Thomas can’t summon him like he usually can. Well, he can but its like a phone call. You can hear it but it’s your choice whether you want to answer it or not. Remy chooses to deliberately go out on his own, so he will have to just wait until he comes back.

Anxiety would go out too if he wanted, but he chooses to mostly stay in his room. Only coming out when Thomas needs him and such, to which Remy replies with as, ‘boring’ or ‘being a party pooper’.

He doesn’t mean to deny Remy’s invites as being rude, but the places he goes sometimes are...questionable in Anxiety’s point of view. Not bad, just odd. He’s way too outgoing for the dark traits style and just hates the crowds overall. It’s not for him.

He stuck with Remy like a leech after ten seconds with the overly boisterous crowd. He didn’t try to talk to anyone and was pretty much third wheeling. He did eventually find a decent hiding spot to hide away and blend in a bit. Although, Anxiety wanted to leave so badly but didn’t for the sake of not looking rude.

After a few tries of Remy trying to get him to go out again, he stopped eventually and never asked again. It faulted their friendship a bit with the mix of arguing over what’s best for Thomas.

Moving on, Remy has to either sleep in his room in the mindscape or in bed with Thomas himself. That way, theyThey would be connected, that way, so for the man couldto actually rest. It wouldn’t make much of a difference if Remy wasn’t sleeping next to Thomas but he chooses to do so anyway. Maybe it’s about proper communication in the morning. Remy does lecture Thomas at times when he forces himself to stay awake, he doesn’t know.

Plus it’s kinda nice to have someone to wake up to in the morning. Self love and all that.

“Thanks for making me stay up late again.” Thomas says in a low tired voice. He rolls over to the side, facing away from Remy. A smirk soon forms on his face from a familiar memory, unable to resist. “Unlike last time, where I was up until two pm.”

Remy huffs out a sigh. “That was one time, alright? Anxiety practically ingrained that lecture into my head. Plus, at least you finished something amiright?”

“I mean, I guess-“ He starts off.

“Also, you were able to finish your work and I was able to get something checked off my bucket list. Staying up a little late, if you need to, isn’t that bad ya know.”

“Ok, yeah, I see what you mean. Now let me sleep. I’ll need it for tomorrow, G’night Rem.”

“Night Thomas.”

Thomas shifted to a more comfortable position and closed his eyes. Allowing the darkness of his room to consume him.

#remy sanders #sleep sanders #ts shorts #sanders shorts #thomas sanders #virgil sanders #anxiety sanders #my writings #reblogger posts #sanders sides

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