#me scrolling through recs for my boards: .............OH | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thewangxianlibrary · 4 years

Text

Wangxian Fic Recs - Modern Setting AU

Plant a little happiness (let the roots run deep) | Words: 47,638 | E

After thirteen years away, Dr. Wei Wuxian is back in Gusu. A car accident near his apartment brings someone unexpected back into his life and everything changes for the better.

and so my heart beats wildly | Words: 106,435 | E

“You know, you’re the one to beat this year,” Jiang Cheng offers helpfully, having seen the glare from right next to him. “Hanguang-jun’s been through juniors with the rest of us, he knows all of our tics. You’re an unknown variable, since he’s never competed against you before.”

“Thanks,” says Wei Wuxian drily. “That’s very comforting.”

Or: five nighthunting competitions where Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji were rivals, and one where they weren't.

Unstrictly Ballroom | Words: 47522 | T

Thirteen years ago, Wei Wuxian brought scandal and shame down upon his head and was thrown out of the competitive ballroom dance circuit. He vanished, never to be heard from again.

Lan Wangji aches when he remembers the way Wei Ying danced--like a laugh given movement and form. He has never stopped searching for him.

Let You Love Me (Always) | Words: 14853 | E

“I can't even imagine what kind of person Lan Wangji fell in love with,” Wei Wuxian admitted.

He felt his stomach being tied in knots, and it almost felt painful and definitely unpleasant, just trying to imagine the person that probably had Lan Wangji on his knees.

Or the story where Wei Wuxian was a bully and Lan Wangji was patiently waiting.

Some of You | Words: 60,640 | M

It can’t be that bad, he thinks. There’s no way he would have done that. But the doubt still lingers, turning into full-blown anxiety as he scrolls down his twitter feed, finally arriving on his latest tweet.

Lan WangJi ✔ @lan_wangji

Some of you have never fallen in love with a boy only for him to go missing after his parents die and pine away for three years waiting for him to come back, then continue to pine when he’s back after you realize you’re too scared to confess, and it shows.

23,043 retweets | 73,328 likes

Lan Zhan’s face pales and he buries his head in his hands, letting his phone drop on the table.

This is bad.

This is very, very bad.

Or, Lan Wangji gets drunk and tweets a love confession, Wei Wuxian panics, and all of twitter decides to matchmake Lan Wangji and his mystery guy.

Out of the Bin and Into Your Heart | Words: 27,675 | T

"Lan Zhan!” Wuxian exclaims as soon as the door to Lan Wangji's apartment opens.

“Fake-date me!” The door slams shut in his face.

or, The Best Laid Plans of Wei Wuxian.

nginal Equivalents | Words: 23,444 | E

He always gets the feeling there is something there, beyond the occasional jabs and the mostly one-sided banter and the way Lan Wangji has tolerated his rambles and teasing all these years and how he has caught him looking at him sometimes with his eyes softer than he has ever seen them.

But whatever that is makes his heart clench painfully and beat a million miles an hour, and that can’t be good for you, can it? As a self-respecting neurosurgery resident he can’t ignore the symptoms of an imminent heart attack, can he?

Or: How Wei Wuxian learnt to stop worrying and love his co-resident.

the moon lives in the lining of your skin | Words: 9,143 | M

“Let go,” Lan Wangji says.

“Huh?” Wei Wuxian tightens his hold on Lan Wangji. “Why?”

“If you don’t let go,” Lan Wangji tells him, reaching up to cover one of Wei Wuxian’s hands with his own, squeezing lightly, “then I can’t get up.”

“And what will you do once you get up?” Wei Wuxian asks. “Will er-gege punish me for being shameless?”

(Or, oh my god, they were roommates.)

boyfriend material | Words: 41,689 | M

Lan Xichen would do anything if it meant his brother was happy, which is what lead him to eavesdropping on the Jiang brothers as they discussed their requirements for a partner.

Or; Lan Wangji attempts to woo an already infatuated Wei Ying using bad pickup lines, and a few more things.

Love wakes me | Words: 42,812 | E

It starts with a bet. All mistakes, Wei Wuxian thinks, start with a bet.

It’s starts with a bet and ends with Wei Wuxian losing everything.

Nine years ago, Wei Wuxian made a bet with disastrous consequences. Now, he is part-owner of the popular and eclectic Yiling Cafe, years and miles away from his old life, making the best of things and trying to leave the past where it belongs. When Lan Wangji walks into his cafe by accident, Wei Wuxian finds himself doing what he thought he'd never do again; reclaiming some small part of his past, and hoping for a future he'd given up as lost.

These Things Stay the Same | Words: 29,937 | E

After a career covering news across the world, journalist Wei Wuxian is unexpectedly on his way home with a child in tow. Unfortunately, the path home isn't without obstacles.

your heartbeat, across the grass | Words: 44,278 | E

To his unbridled horror, Wei Wuxian sees his face up on the giant screen in real time for the entire stadium to see. Still laughing as his face takes a moment to catch up with the sheer mortification he’s feeling, A-Yuan perched on his shoulders as the Lan Wangji cape drapes over them.

There’s also commentary.

“—scenes from the stands here, this dad and his son making for an adorable twosome all decked out in support for local hero Lan Wangji—”

“—Speaking of, our man seems to have taken a little tumble—”

Wei Wuxian finds Lan Wangji on the field. The ball is nowhere near him but he seems to have fallen inexplicably backwards, sitting on the grass as he looks up at the giant screen.

Right up at the footage of him.

(AU where A-Yuan is professional footballer Lan Wangji's biggest fan, and his babysitter Wei Wuxian wants nothing more than to forget his days as the photographer of their school football team, calling out to the captain from the stands just so he'd look around at him.)

with you, I am home | Words: 47,049 | M

“I can’t go back home alone, Lan Zhan.”

Wei Wuxian gets a summons to return to Lotus Pier for marriage proposals. To avoid this, he convinces Lan Zhan to come with him and pretend to be his cultivation partner.

it's the little things, you see? | Words: 30024 | T

Hot Stuff’s lips part and his voice— God, his voice —flows past his lips like honey dripping from its jar.

“Are you—”

“Will you marry me?”

Nailed it.

Where single parent Wei Ying greets his son’s preschool teacher— on the first day they meet —with a marriage proposal.

Wei Ying spends the changing seasons wooing said preschool teacher in full-force, no holds barred.

Lan Zhan’s life does a full 360 degree turn when two balls of unrestrained energy land themselves in front of his classroom.

And as the seasons change, so do they.

The Simplest Way Forward | Words: 71,008 | E

It’s a really unfortunate thing, developing a crush on your husband. Wei Ying had assumed this would be easy. Lan Zhan had been so icy and unpleasant to him, it had never occurred to him that he might end up spending the next however many years with this dumb, burning feeling in his chest whenever he looks at him.

“Okay,” says Wei Ying. “But tell me if I…if the pretending gets to be too hard, okay?”

“It will not,” says Lan Zhan, quietly certain.

Pretty Things | Words: 25,520 | T

The thing was...Wei WuXian was right. It did suit him. Jiang Cheng took in everything—from the lively red of his nails, to the way he had braided and wrapped his hair in twin buns, leaving his bangs to curl becomingly over his cheeks, to the red silk of his calf-length silk cheongsam with black chrysanthemums blooming over his right shoulder and down the split on the left side of the skirt, to his shapely, shaved legs. And what tied it all together was the way he carried himself. Wei WuXian smiled impishly, pleased to know he was right, that he looked good, and that others would agree. Doubtless, he would be out drinking until the early hours as patrons vied to buy him drinks after the end of his shift.

Operation Old Men | Words: 37645 | NR

An ill-fated parent teacher conference reunites Jin Ling's wayward uncle with Sizhui's father. AKA: A matchmaking disaster as told by Jin Ling, Sizhui, and Jingyi.

Jin Ling knows he’s in deep trouble even before reporting to Headmaster Lan’s office, but the words “your uncle will be here soon” still strike the fear of God in him. His only consolation is that Jingyi and Sizhui’s guardians are also in the office, Jingyi’s mom already lecturing her sheepish-looking son. Lan-ayi only stops when Sizhui’s father, a quiet and tall man in white, clears his throat, causing her to engage him in one-sided smalltalk.

This is a disaster. Jin Ling had spent such a nice break at home for Mid-Autumn Festival, and Fairy’s presence had soothed his homesickness after returning to boarding school in Gusu. He knows pets aren’t allowed, but who is going to report Jin Ling when his father pays good money for a private suite in the dorms? Then there was the incident with Jingyi, a box of mooncakes, and a door left ajar. Long story short, he spent an hour chasing Fairy down the halls with Sizhui and Jingyi before finding his dog nosing up to a very angry Headmaster Lan.

#wangxian #wangxian fic rec #mdzs #CQL #the untamed #modern setting au #au: modern setting #fic rec list #wangxian fic rec list

98 notes · View notes

joonsdiary · 4 years

Text

the ceo’s keeper

↳ part three of the: (not) the love of my life series

pairing: seokjin x reader (female) genre: arranged marriage au // humour with a dash of fluff and sprinkle of angst word count: 5,8k

chapter summary: visiting seokjin in his Tower of Terror™ reveals he carries a lot more baggage than you intend to claim.

warning. alcohol consumption, a few curse words here and there; nothing worth putting the mature tag but i’d still advice to proceed with caution.

note. putting it out there since i don’t think i’ve mentioned it before, but this fic was initially inspired by yuna’s (not) the love of my life. just putting it out there as a song rec in case you’ve not heard it yet!

the proposal | the first date | the ceo’s keeper | the engagement

“Guess who’s in the front cover of Daily Gossip and is trending number one in the search engines?” Taehyung barged into Seokjin's office early Monday morning a few seconds after Mina phoned his arrival. His brother plopped himself in the plush leather chair across his office table, lifting one leg to rest it on top of the other.

Seokjin didn’t have to guess as he often donned the front cover of plenty of tabloids. But not because of anything work-related, which he never really understood. Were his date nights that interesting to many people? Must be, if they were constantly writing about it. He then remembered your quip a few days ago regarding his ‘date’ with the president’s daughter but was quickly reminded that a certain Yoongi had told you about it. The corner of his lips curled downwards.

“Aren’t I always on the front cover?” he doesn’t even bother to look up as he spoke while continuing to type endlessly on his keyboard. If there was one thing he hated about his job, it would have to be coordinating e-mails. He would usually allocate the task to Mina, but certain emails that contain sensitive information would have to be drafted by him.

“Yes, but, hear this—” Taehyung cleared his throat for effect and shifted in his seat, holding his phone in front of him theatrically, “Seoul’s most eligible bachelor’s newest FLING is somebody you won’t expect!”

“As I said, it’s nothing new,” he deadpanned.

Taehyung chastised him with a shush before continuing.

“Kim Seokjin’s date du jour – I’m pretty sure they used the word in the wrong context here – is the twenty-four-year-old hotelier – wait, she’s that young?”

“I can’t interrupt you, but you keep stopping yourself for your little commentaries,” Seokjin grumbled as he hit the send button, only partially listening to Taehyung. “And she’s practically the same age as you.”

“Yes, but an owner, albeit previously, of a hotel? That’s pretty impressive.”

Seokjin rolled his eyes at Taehyung’s remark, but one of the reasons why he’d agree to this whole masquerade in the first place is due to your reputation. You were a woman of class and grace in spite of your moderate — for a lack of a better term — upbringing. As far as he was concerned, you were respected among the elites; the perfect remedy to clear his name of his tarnished credibility, which he blames solely on the tabloids. Whoever he chooses to go on a date with, no matter how frequently the person changed every week, was no one’s business but his.

Yet the camera lenses never strayed too far from him wherever he went. It was tedious and stupid because he wasn’t some celebrity who craved attention. Yet he had to make peace with the fact because the board of directors was all about reputation instead of the actual work that Seokjin put into elevating the company.

“Anyway, back to the gossip,” Taehyung scrolled down further on his screen, “blah, blah – oh! We have a feeling she’s special because unlike his other dates, he brought her to his upscale restaurant, Chateau – You had dinner at Mom’s restaurant? That is certainly news.”

The fact that Taehyung still referred to it as ‘Mom’s restaurant’ brought warmth in Seokjin’s chest.

“It was a last-minute decision. She said she went on a date at the place you suggested the night before.”

“That is also news,” Taehyung said, teasing. “Do tell me the details, dear brother.”

“Apparently it was a move to get under her parent’s skin. It was shortly before she knew of my proposal, obviously. Nothing much to spill.”

“Mhm,” the smirk lingered on Taehyung’s lips, but he pressed on with the article. He quietly read with his eyes for a while before blurting out an expletive, which caused Seokjin to look up momentarily from his screen.

“What?”

Taehyung sighed as he squinted at his brother, reciting the text verbatim. “But their rendezvous, however, ended early with them parting ways; he headed straight to Kim Hotel after dropping her off. Does this mean the night didn’t go as they’d planned? Will she be another date-and-dash for our handsome CEO-to-be?”

“Date-and-dash,” Seokjin scoffed before laughing in disbelief. “That might be the best term they’ve come up with so far.”

“Yeah, well, we don’t want everybody to think this is another date-and-dash for you.”

“I’m only worried about Dad’s opinion. Everybody else can think whatever they want.”

“They can still hire an outsider as CEO.”

“Dad wouldn’t let them do that.”

“There’s only so much power he can hold. That’s what the board of directors is for.”

He paused, letting Taehyung’s words simmer. His brother never bothered much for the corporate side of the business, opting to delve more into his artistic side. He was responsible for much of the interior design of any and every Kim Hotel they decided to build, but that’s about it as far as his contribution went. If Taehyung was content and satisfied with whatever he chose, then so was Seokjin.

“You’re right,” Seokjin’s lips pursed, hating the admission.

“Aren’t I always?” Taehyung snorts before sighing and putting his phone away. “You’re going to have to put a little bit more pep in your step, as the saying goes, if you want to make this look more sincere than it actually is.”

Seokjin contemplated the implication of the word sincere. He thought he had been as truthful as possible in his interaction with you two nights prior. His conversation with you ebbed seamlessly, save for the second half of the night where you discussed business. It had been the sincerest interaction he had with a woman whom he didn’t have to bed that same night as he normally would. The farthest he’d gone with you so far was a chaste kiss on the forehead, which he deemed you were uncomfortable with.

“Should I make out with her on our next date, then?” Seokjin quipped. He didn’t mean it seriously, but the delighted look in his brother’s face told him they weren’t on the same page. “I was kidding, V.”

He threw the nickname out with an ill-intention, knowing how much Taehyung resented it. His brother sighed, slumping on the chair and mussing his curly locks. It baffled Seokjin how one could grow their hair out past their eyebrows, but it seemed to suit Taehyung, nonetheless, fitting with the artistic look he was trying to accomplish.

“It’s something to talk to her about. If she’s comfortable with it, then why the hell not?” Taehyung shrugged, tugging at his turtleneck.

Would you even be open to the idea? Hell, you’re bound to get married in less than three weeks, but he hadn’t entertained the thought. All the women he’s dated so far knew what to expect of him, and vice versa: sex after dinner. That was the mantra.

“I don’t know, Taehyung…” he trailed off.

It’s not that he thought of you as a prude, but his arrangement with you had strictly been business, and Seokjin was the type not to mix the two. He never pried with anything past surface level with the women he had relationships with; he never stayed long enough to know. Or he wasn’t interested enough to stay and get past the tip of the iceberg.

He no longer wanted to entertain the idea of forever with somebody, and longevity isn’t something he’s interested in. Been there, done that. Not exactly his cup of tea — he’d learned the hard way. Best he moved along.

“Fine, but mild contact is still on the table. You didn’t even hold her hand, according to the article.”

“I did,” Seokjin said defensively. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure, and that was a problem in and of itself.

“Tell her, Jin.”

“I will if it gets you off my back. Now kindly screw off,” he grinned at his inside joke before continuing. “I have a meeting with a contractor in five minutes.”

“Ouch, since when do you use such harsh words, dear brother?” Taehyung whined, clasping the front of this sweater with his hand. He straightened up, nonetheless, slipping his phone in the pocket of his black slacks. “Jeju?”

Seokjin nodded, opening another email that needed a return message.

“Shouldn’t Namjoon be here for that?”

“I already called him this morning. He’s still having way too much fun in Switzerland, but he’ll be back by the end of the week.”

“Taeri’s probably mad that you’re pulling her husband away from her so early after their wedding.” Taehyung laughed as he shook his head, but Seokjin only grinned.

“It’s been two months. He has to come back. This operation doesn’t run itself; I’ll have you know.”

Taehyung dismissed him with a passive, “Yeah, yeah.”

There’s a pause, and Seokjin furrowed his brows at his brother’s sudden teasing expression.

“But I still can’t believe he got married before you.” Taehyung pointed an accusing finger at him, and Seokjin laughed.

“I can’t believe it either. He’s certainly way worse than I am.”

“But better at break-ups than you are. You just leave them hanging,” Taehyung squinted his eyes with indignation. Seokjin gives his brother a tight-lipped smile.

“Not entirely true. I technically don’t do the whole dating thing officially. What’s more, I give them—”

“Mr. Kim, your ten-thirty is here,” Mina’s voice crackled through the phone. Seokjin sighed in relief, grateful for once that he was being interrupted with another meeting.

“I guess that’s my cue,” Taehyung turned, his Gucci loafers dragging him halfway through the office. “Don’t forget to tell Y/N.”

“I won’t. She’s stopping by later.”

“Oh? I should stick around, then.”

“We don’t need your constant badgering, thank you very much.” He called out, but Taehyung was already out of his office by then.

* * *

You had never been to the Kim Hotel before, there was simply no reason to step foot into one of their many copy-and-paste buildings that dotted the entire country. You joked to Seokjin a few nights ago about the hotel being his tower, but the building was indeed massive, which would make sense seeing that they are billionaires, after all. They wouldn’t have a measly bed-and-breakfast type of hotel like you do. You stood rooted to the ground, squinting up the massive fortress.

(You’d think at some point they’d have to consider the safety of the poor birds that get confused and end up slamming themselves into its reflective windows, but that seemed like a thought for another day.)

Pushing aside all the uneasy feeling that bubbled from your stomach, you collected yourself mentally and pushed through the revolving doors. It was exactly like you thought it was — the pinnacle of contemporary interior design. Everything blended seamlessly, uncluttered and unbearably white it was practically blinding you. Not wanting to be caught ogling the furniture, you made your way to the steel elevators, punching the button to the highest floor. Seokjin didn’t give you any details as to where his office is located, but surely the highest floor of this gargantuan building would belong to him. The doors slid open after what seemed like a lifetime, and you were greeted with a curt voice.

“Do you have an appointment?”

You blinked, unsure of what to say. “I believe so. My name is—”

“Finally! I thought you’d never arrive,” a brunette with an uncharacteristically wavy hair came bumbling out of what you assumed was a boardroom office. His hands were buried in the pocket of his loosely fitted slacks and an easygoing aura surrounded him. His presence was unmistakable, and despite not sharing the same facial features as Seokjin, you could tell who it was.

“Taehyung?”

His eyes lit up when you said his name as his lips formed into an attractive smile. He turned to Seokjin’s secretary.

“Mina, darling,” he said languidly, but the female did not bat her mascaraed eyelashes. “Will you let us in?”

Ah, so this was the lady you spoke with on the phone when you’d initially tried to get a hold of Seokjin. She seemed less terrifying when you met her face to face; her hair is pulled back in a low ponytail and she wore minimal makeup. She looked friendlier than she sounded, why were you afraid of calling, again?

“Mr. Kim is in a meeting right now,” she busied herself with her work while she spoke. “If you’d wait a moment—”

“But Mina, baby,” Taehyung crooned, leaning over her desk perhaps a little too close. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his antics; he’s certainly quite different from how Seokjin acted. Whereas Seokjin kept himself aloof most of the time, Taehyung wore his emotions on his sleeve. Both are still unabashedly forward, nonetheless.

Mina stayed impassive, and you can tell why Seokjin hired her to guard his lair — the woman could not be cracked. You admitted to yourself that if Taehyung were to charm your pants off, you’d be completely hooked.

His efforts were rendered futile, however, when the wooden doors of Seokjin’s office opened and gave way to an ebony-haired woman. She was in the middle of securing her wool coat as her heels echoed with confidence through the marble floors, side-stepping to get around you but not before flashing you a lithe smile. The self-assurance you held before walking into the building had all but withered away.

“Taehyung.” She greeted him, but he only stared at her with an impassive gaze. “It’s nice seeing you around here.”

She headed straight to the elevators and disappeared even before you could blink.

“I didn’t think she’d be here today,” Taehyung mumbled.

“She’s the president’s daughter, right?” you asked, not bothering to remember what her name was. Taehyung nodded.

Strictly business my ass. You didn’t want to care, but your all-too-sudden sour mood said otherwise.

You push past the same wooden doors as the woman had earlier and you find Seokjin propped to his desk, hair slicked back, forehead taut in concentration as he focused on whatever was on his screen. If he’d been doing The Deed, you don’t think he’d look as put together as he currently does. That much was enough for you to relax into his leather chaise. Taehyung followed closely, opting to sit on the couch on the far side of the room.

“Future wife, how are you today?” Seokjin began, and you’re irritated slightly by his refusal to set aside whatever he was doing.

“About as well as one can be while visiting their corporate shark fiancé, Mr. Kim. You?”

Taehyung barked out a laugh from where he sat, and you patted yourself on the back. It’s the little accomplishments, you mused to yourself.

Seokjin’s head snapped at Taehyung and he gave his brother a glare that sliced through the room.

“I told you that you’re not needed here today, Taehyung.”

Taehyung ignored Seokjin, clutching his stomach as he wiped away imaginary tears. “Damn, can I be married to her instead?”

“I don’t like the idea of me being thrown around like a piece of meat for your amusement,” you deadpanned, and Taehyung straightened up quickly.

“I didn’t mean to offend, Sis. I only wanted to rile Jin up for my amusement.”

You rolled your eyes, chuckling as he gave you another million-dollar smile. Seokjin sighed as he stood, buttoning up the blazer of his suit. He picked up a manila envelope that was on the edge of his desk before rounding the table.

“You don’t have to sign today. You can take it home and read it over with a lawyer if you want.” He hands you the files before leaning back into the glass table. You shook your head as you pulled out the documents with confidence. If there had been one thing you learned from your parents, it was how to properly read official documents without glossing over important details. Legal documents often used extensive jargon, and you could easily tell they were drafted by actual lawyers. It gave you a tiny bit of relief that he wasn’t trying to scam you.

Your fingers skimmed your hotel’s name in print, somehow unable to wrap your mind around the fact that you no longer owned it. But the promise was clear in ink under commencement of your divorce: your hotel would be yours.

“Do you need one?” Your head lifted to meet Seokjin’s gaze after minutes of silence. He offered a fountain pen that glinted against the afternoon sun as he moved it closer to you. You felt a wave of emotions suddenly overwhelming you, and you blink up at him before shaking your head.

“Maybe I should look it over with a lawyer, after all,” you mumbled while giving him a timid smile. He nodded in understanding and moved back behind his desk.

“It’s no pressure at all.”

“It’s not that… I just,” you inhaled through your nose and out through your mouth. Between revealing your true feelings or lightening the mood with a banter, you chose the latter. “I just want to make sure you’re not hiding any tricks up your sleeves, Mr. Kim.”

“I’m not one to joke around with things like this, Ms. Hwang,” Seokjin said pointedly, and you frowned. Okay, not the mood I was going for.

“That’s true; he doesn’t. He’s as uptight as they come.” Taehyung quipped, rising from his comfortable spot before plopping beside you. He patted your shoulders, almost apologetically. “You’ll get used to him.”

“I highly doubt that,” you snorted, stuffing the papers back in their envelope. “I have no interest in being the CEO’s keeper.”

Taehyung peeled back from you for another belly laugh, and Seokjin rolled his eyes. “I’m right here, you know.”

Taehyung waved him off dismissively and turned back to you. “I wish we’d met under different circumstances, Y/N.”

There was a wicked gleam in Taehyung’s eyes, but you knew he was being playful rather than having malicious intent.

“Didn’t you say there was something else you wanted to talk about, V?” Seokjin’s voice was seething, which caused Taehyung’s grin to grow wider.

“Right, right,” he shifted in his seat as he whipped out his phone. “I made notes, hold on.”

“What’s this about?” you looked between the brothers with confusion.

“Apparently we did the whole ‘date’ thing wrong.” Seokjin deadpanned, rolling his eyes before he turned back to his work.

“Meaning?”

“One, lack of intimacy,” it was Taehyung who answered, and you blush at his comment. You’re reminded of how Seokjin had pulled you against him the moment you stepped out of the car.

“Going excessive on the first date would’ve made it seem disingenuous,” you pointed out, and Seokjin mumbled in agreement.

“Do you not know how Jin usually is with his former dates?” Taehyung asked, which froze Seokjin mid-type.

“I don’t make the habit of reading gossip blogs and tabloids for celebrities,” you mumbled, hoping they bought into your pretense of being calm. In your head you prayed Taehyung wouldn’t elaborate; the image of Seokjin with other women made you want to hurl your guts out. “I could honestly care less.”

“Right,” Taehyung gave you a slanted gaze, and you shrugged. “Please keep in mind to give a little bit more, next time, then.”

“Will do, Chief,” Seokjin grumbled, massaging his temples with both his hands.

“Second, no going home separately, especially since news of your engagement will hit the public this week.”

You fidgeted in your seat, the air in the room suddenly growing warmer.

“There’s a spare room in the penthouse suite,” Seokjin motioned at a door on the other side of his office with his chin. “The bathroom is always stocked with amenities in case—”

The word in case hung in the air like a thick fog, and Seokjin did not have to finish the sentence for you to figure out what he was trying to get at. The message was clear. But to be quite frank, you couldn’t care less. Right before agreeing to the arrangement, it was clear that Seokjin was that type of man, so it shouldn’t come as a surprise to you that he would bring women to his home, which also happened to be where his office was. Yet, there was an uncomfortable prickle in your heart and your palm unintentionally raised to soothe the phantom pain.

“I’m alright with taking a spare office or something. I’ll work for a few hours then head home past midnight. That should raise enough eyebrows, right?” you hoped neither one of them noticed the slight quiver in your voice.

Taehyung must have sensed it because his voice grew quiet. “Okay, I’m sure you two will work something out. That’s it, for now. I’m going to assume the rest will come naturally.”

You had a feeling he had a longer list but opted to be sensible enough to feel your mood shift. Seokjin didn’t say anything, but the lack of clicking noises coming from his direction told you he’s not working, either. You turned, locking gazes with him, but he remained expressionless which irritated you more than you’d like to admit.

“If there’s nothing else, I’ll take my leave,” you brushed imaginary lint off your high-waisted slacks as you stood up.

“So soon?” Taehyung pouted, earning a small laugh from you. The nerves were slowly dissipating, and you were glad.

“I have a date,” you paused, gauging Seokjin’s reaction. The scowl on his face made you smirk. “With some classmates from uni. Gotta keep up with the social circle if I want occasional help with my thesis, right?”

While that was true, the dinner isn’t until three hours from now. But you had no plans to stay here a minute longer; the tense air was suffocating you.

“Don’t be a stranger, Sis.” Taehyung engulfed you in a warm hug and you patted his back, chuckling in amusement.

“See you around, Taehyung.” As you pulled away, you gave Seokjin a slanted gaze. “I’ll give the papers back as soon as I can.”

You wobbled slightly as you headed for the door, disappointed that Seokjin didn’t stop you. He didn’t even bid you farewell. You scoffed.

“Have a good afternoon, Ms. Hwang.” Mina greeted you as you made your way to the elevator. You turned back to her with a genuine smile.

“You as well.”

+++

The pulsing beat of the music had your head throbbing with pain, but you didn’t think it’d be wise to complain. Especially because you couldn’t quite look Seokjin in the eyes for reasons completely unknown to you. Or perhaps you did know, you just chose not to dwell on them.

Two days after your productive visit to Seokjin’s Tower of Terror, your calendar graciously reminded you of another date you’ve set up with him. There was supposed to be a lunch date the day prior, but due to unforeseen circumstances (more so on his part rather than yours), you both agreed to have it cancelled. He apologized, but you dismissed him and said that you forgot that your mother had asked you to visit her and your father, anyways.

(In reality, she hadn’t and was delighted you called to say you were bringing them take-outs for lunch.)

“Wednesday nights are busier than I thought,” Seokjin mused, pulling you out of your mini daydream. You looked up, which proved to be a mistake because the club’s lights flickered in a way that accentuated his features; his straight nose that’s angled between his ever-so-prominent cheekbones. His fringe was down that evening — a sight that you have not yet witnessed. It made him seem younger than his actual age; more laidback, less prim and proper. In any other given scenario, this would not disarm you, but the occasional spark of colour highlighted how close his face was from yours.

In other words, you really ought to get used to being in close proximity to him if you were to continue this ordeal.

“It’s always full of people, no matter the day.”

Seokjin’s brows furrowed as his head dipped, inching his ears closer. You knew you’d flinch away if his arm wasn’t draped around your shoulders. “What was that?”

“I said it doesn’t matter what day it is — it’s always full here,” his scent made you feel more inebriated than the alcohol you held. You found it surprising that Kim Seokjin is not much into the club scene, thinking that people like him often spend half their time wasting away

He whipped his head to meet your gaze once more, a grin forming on his lips. “Of course, you’d know.”

There was something in the tone of his voice that made you want to defend yourself. “I have a social life too, Mr. Kim.”

“I never said you didn’t. But you’re more of a designated driver type rather than the drunk, party all night type of gal. Am I right?”

Your eye twitched in annoyance. Was he really stereotyping you now?

“You don’t know the half of it, Kim Seokjin,” you mutter, unsure whether he heard you or not. But you didn’t care, and instead proceeded to finish your margarita in one chug. You set down on the glass table in front of you before peeling yourself off of him and the velvet sofa. The desire to prove you weren’t prude — despite him not saying it outright — felt greater than your sense of logic and reasoning.

You wobbled slightly as all the blood in your system rushed to your brain. But you managed to steady yourself as you turned back to Seokjin. He watched you with interest, but his lips remained sealed in a grin.

“I do like being the designated driver at times. No shame in keeping my friends safe. Am I right?” you pushed Seokjin’s shoulder with one finger until his back hit the plush sofa. There was no turning back, you realized, when your leather skirt hitched higher as you placed your knees one after the other, effectively trapping him between your thighs. Alcohol was definitely coursing through your veins as you sat on his lap.

It never occurred to you that you’d be so brazen in front of Kim Seokjin. But here you were with your cheeks flushed and heart hammering wildly against your chest, wanting so desperately to prove that his expectations of you were wrong.

“But I can also have fun without being shit-faced.” The less you think about it, the better it was for you not to get embarrassed. So, you ignore his smug, seemingly unfazed expression as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

You were convinced you’ve only got one functioning brain cell left. But if Taehyung were present to judge, you knew he would gag with approval.

“Is that so?” Seokjin played along, and you weren’t entirely shocked; the man was probably used to such endeavours on a nightly basis before your arrangement. He placed his palm against the small of your back, and instead of pulling away, you leaned closer. Being this promiscuous in private was nothing new for you, but never when you knew there were several eyes trained on you like a hawk.

“Shall we give them something to write about, fiancé?” your eyes trailed down to his lips before meeting his gaze once more. You knew he wouldn’t oppose, but you still needed his consent. He nodded with a glint of amusement in his eyes and the next thing you knew, your lips were in his. He was firm and unwavering, slightly aggressive but he damn well knew what he was doing. It felt as if he'd set your body on fire with one singular moment.

You broke away first, eyes seeing but unfocused as you heaved a sigh, lungs welcoming the sweet taste of oxygen. Seokjin chuckled as he studied you with newfound interest, surprisingly well put together compared to you.

“Are you alright?”

“Mhm,” you peeled back from him, pulling your leather skirt down in the process. “That’s probably enough to placate the onlookers.”

You looked around, but the dim lights made it hard to see beyond a few meters. Seokjin followed your actions, and you feel the familiar warmth emanating from him once more. His arm was draped around you once more, but the gesture felt natural this time around. The mere smile he gave you was enough to send butterflies drifting in your stomach. You wouldn’t dare to admit it out loud, but at least you wouldn’t have to pretend to be attracted to him.

* * *

“Birthday?”

“Couldn’t you have just googled this? I’m sure I have a Wikipedia page.” Seokjin said, quite peeved that you didn’t know his birthday yet, when he’d memorized yours: May 24, 1996. You gave him a deadpan look and he sighed defeatedly. “December 4.”

“Year?”

“Seriously?”

You said nothing, opting to dip a fry in your Oreo-flavoured ice cream instead. He wasn’t surprised when you asked to ditch the club to eat, citing that you’d puke your guts out if you didn’t get any food in your system. He didn’t think you meant McDonald’s at midnight.

“1992.”

“Was that so hard?” you mumbled, typing the information on your phone. “Your birthday is coming up soon.”

“If by soon you mean two months from now, then yes.”

“Technically, it’s the seventh today, so it’s less than two months,” you pointed out but didn’t wait for him to return the conversation. “Favourite colour?”

“Are you writing a slam book? Would you like to know who my celebrity crush is, as well?” he rolled his eyes.

“Yes, actually. Let me guess; is it Florence Pugh? Ana de Armas? Brad Pitt? Or someone local…Jun Jihyun?” you mused. He only shook his head at your antics, convinced that you were not fully sober yet. “I’m kidding. I’m just filling out your contact information.”

You slid your phone across the table, which landed perfectly in front of him. True to your words, most of the information was filled out: Rapunzel donned the first name, and nothing was filled out for the last name option. He chuckled but didn’t bother changing it to his actual name and proceeded to input his number.

“That was smooth, Y/n, I must admit. You couldn’t have just asked for it straight up?”

You shrugged. “Where’s the fun in that?”

He handed your phone back, and moments later, his phone buzzed in his jean pockets. He opened the message — no doubt it had been from you.

𝗂 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗏𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗌 “𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗆𝗒 𝗅𝗂𝖿𝖾” ;)

Seokjin simply shook his head; it felt unfamiliar for him to be smiling so much he could feel his cheeks go numb. If he knew how amusing it would be to go on a fake-real-date with you, he would’ve asked his father to set him up with you.

Wait, what?

He turned two strides back, retrieving the steps he made. Certainly, you couldn’t have grown on him so quickly — but in reality, it felt like that for a while now, whether he wanted to admit it or not. He thought the whole ordeal with you would be cumbersome, but it’s been quite the opposite so far. He commended your tenacity to go along with any plans he’s laid out, so far.

That’s because you’re holding her hotel hostage.

To be quite frank, it would’ve been none of his business if he decided not to meddle with his father’s whims. But he’d honestly rather be divorced and have his father lash out at him than be stuck in some arrangement he didn’t want. While it’s true that he could divorce you, either way, the key was the illusion of being in love. As Taehyung kindly pointed out to him: How devastating would it be that you both fell out of love, that they won’t consider rescinding the CEO position once you have it?

The stories would circulate around the heartbreak, instead of the bluff that was his arranged marriage for the sake of saving face.

Although now that he was sitting across from you as he watched you relentlessly dip your fried potatoes in your ice cream for the umpteenth time, the prospect of being married to you no longer felt as daunting. Especially if you were willing to make out with him on occasion as you had earlier. It wasn’t part of the contract, but he was willing to add the extra clause if you’d agree.

“What do you have that creepy grin for, Mr. Kim Seokjin?”

“I’m thinking of taking you home with me tonight, Ms. Hwang.” Seokjin’s satisfaction was evident in his smirk when he saw your eyes widen. He swore he saw you go through five emotions in the span of a mere second.

“Stop teasing. It’s not funny.”

He watched your already blushed cheeks turn a shade deeper as he chuckled. “I’m not teasing. Taehyung’s rules, remember?”

“Oh, right,” you blinked at him blankly. “I forgot to bring my laptop with me so I can have something to work with.”

“You were serious about occupying an office space?” he gawked, brows knitted.

“I was. I’m not sleeping over in your Mistress Suite.” You said in a monotone voice, but the indignation in your eyes told Seokjin you were more than serious — you were offended. At least he could tell that much.

“That name has a nice ring to it. Do you mind if I start calling it that, instead of just the guest room?” The pointed look you gave him made him think you were less than amused with his banter. Seokjin sighed and stood up, motioning for you to follow. “Don’t worry, no one has stayed there for two weeks.”

“I really didn’t need to know,” you grumbled. Seokjin reached out for you to take his hand.

“I’m sure you didn’t. But I’d still like to let you know that I wouldn’t do anything that would jeopardize this arrangement.”

That was part of the truth. The other part came in the form of his animosity towards infidelity. Seokjin genuinely hoped you didn’t think he would cheat on you during the span of your agreement. He had issues committing, yes, but he couldn’t begin to imagine inflicting such pain on another person. Not when he’s had firsthand experience on the subject.

It reassured him that there was an end to your charade, a point where he can say checkmate and the game would be over. Commitment still has to be made, for sure, but nothing that would leave him like an empty husk of his former self afterwards. No monsters under the bed, no skeletons in the closet, either.

You slid off the booth but did not take his outstretched hand, so he casually stuffed in his pocket. You were setting your limits, and he had to respect that. Perhaps the silly extra clause he thought of will not be a necessity, after all.

NEXT ;

thanks for reading this chapter. feedback is always appreciated! ♡

#seokjin fic #seokjin scenarios #jin scenario #seokjin scenario #bts scenarios #bangtan scenario #jin scenarios #seokjin fanfic #jin fanfic #seokjin x reader #bts fanfic #seokjin angst #seokjin fluff #seokjin smut #jin #seokjin #taehyung scenario #writing

92 notes · View notes

neocity-sarai · 4 years

Text

"𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓲𝓷 _____" 𝓼𝓮𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓼

❀ chapter 2: reader x haechan

❀ enemies to lovers trope

❀ alerts: fluff, tinge of angst, language, mentions of drinking, heavy making out

❀ song rec: “tokyo” by owl city ft. sekai no owari

“Love in Tokyo”

What’s the one thing that’s the most important to you? It was always your voice, of course. Since the mere age of 4, singing was your whole world. Your dad had bought you the most expensive model of a child’s karaoke machine and it soon became something that you held onto in your sleep. Holding a microphone was like second nature to you, the way the gridded pattern on the ball of your microphone felt under your fingertips surged you with excitement. You’d hold a singing show for your family members every holiday: christmas, thanksgiving, and everything in between. When you became a senior high school student, assimilating into your school’s choir group was easy for you. The teacher showered you with compliments and always requested that you’d become the shining soprano of the girls’ choir- many of which called you “teacher’s pet” or too “arrogant for your own good”. To you, you never listened to them- your dream was to join the music program at Tokyo University of the arts. And you were sure that you would do whatever it took to get there.

One day, your choir teacher had told you that she had been a longtime friend of one of the instructors at the university and was thinking of hosting a traveling showcase. During lunch, she pulled up the website on the projector as she animatedly talked about what kind of things students learned and the connections they would build. The program specialized in everything ranging from music theory to divine performance, it was like she could look inside your head and spell out your dream. That afternoon, you pushed your parents to sign the permission slip the moment you stepped foot in your house. Your dad couldn’t reign in your excitement as you squealed when his pen hit the sheet of paper. You waved the paper around in the air but you were careful enough to not rip it as your mother eyed your father from the kitchen counter happily. Your father turned to you before popping a grape in his mouth, “So, what are you most excited about?”

You spun around several times, dancing light on your feet, “To have my solo at the showcase of course! I wish you guys could be there.”

“That’s why you’ll have to facetime us before and record it so we can show everyone we know!”

You run over to your mom and dad, pressing tight kisses to their heads, “I can’t believe I’m going to Tokyo!”

3 weeks later

You scanned through your list of items on the way to the airport, not that it would matter anyway since you triple-checked everything that you stuffed in your suitcase. Your mom read the list out to you: “Wallet?”

“Check!” “Passport?” “Check!” “Tampons?” “Ugh, check!” “Toothbrush?” “Check!” “Sweets, I think you have everything.”

Of course you did. Like you said, you packed everything neatly and efficiently. Your dad had helped you unload your suitcase before you caught sight of your friend Sunny and the rest of your classmates by the check-in counter. You kissed your parents goodbye before running over to her as she yelled for you, “Y/n! over here!”

You swung your arm around her, “Sunny! Are you ready to have the best trip ever?”

She smiled at you, “Sooo ready!”

Ever since freshman year, Sunny has always stuck by your side. She was a kind yet quirky girl, she always wore daisy clips in her braided pigtails. Your classmates made fun of her perkiness which is something you never minded. When it was time to finally board your flight, you couldn’t control the insane thrum of your heart, your toes curled at the thought of being on your way to the beautiful of Tokyo. Ironically, your excitement faded away during your 13 hour flight. The air of the plane was stuffy, you were sure that you were getting air-sick, and the refreshments cart wheeled over your foot about 5 times. You were not about to puke your guts out before your first day at the dream institute you’ve longed for your whole life. The pilot announced you’d be landing soon, Sunny turned to you, “How does my face look?”

You answered her, “Uh- good?”

“Really? I think I look like a mole that's been in a burrow for 13 years, I mean, look at my under eye-bags!”

You pat Sunny on the shoulder, “You look fine, it’s okay. We all look like that.”

Suddenly, the plane starts to shake from the turbulence as you both brace yourselves into your seats- you feel bile rise in your stomach. You swallow to force it down anyway. After passing the “Welcome to Tokyo” sign, it hadn’t really sunken in yet. You craved a hot shower and some fresh clothes the minute your teacher mentioned the hotel you all would be staying at.

That’s when it hit you. Tokyo looked as if everything you dreamed it to be. You were right at the heart of Shibuya, people crossed the street in every angle possible as glowing japanese characters hung from signboards. Even though it was daytime, you could imagine how beautiful it would look in the night time. Wires were strung over every telephone pole and streetlamp, creating a web of ropes between the buildings. Even the people in Tokyo were different: from stoic businessmen with briefcases to women who darted around wearing organza skirts- the japanese animations moved across towers of screens. Your classmates oohed and ahhed at gigantic trucks that whizzed by, video game characters flashing on the sides of them. After a quick meeting about liabilities and safety protocols, the choir teacher had let you all have some free-time. You and Sunny went back to your shared room- two other girls painting their nails on the floor. You tiptoed over to your bed, accidentally knocking your classmate’s nail polish in the process, “Oh- god- I’m sorry-”

She sneers at you, “Yeah, you should be.”

You opt to lay down, scrolling through your phone for a bit. Suddenly, your classmate raises her voice, “What are you guys looking most forward to on the trip?”

You point at yourself, “Are you talking to me?”

She blows on her nails before glaring at you, “There’s four of us in here, who else would I be talking to?”

Trying to answer calmly, you say, “You go first then.”

Your classmate snickers, “I can’t wait to meet all the cute boys who go to the university. I bet there's a plethora of them.”

Her friend quirks her eyebrows up at her, “What does plethora mean?”

“It just means a lot.” She mutters under her breath, cursing at her friend. You roll your eyes to Sunny as Sunny makes a stank face at the two girls who sit on the ground. Chuckling at the sight, you’re cut off by your classmate’s voice.

“What about you, y/n?”

You reply, “Honestly, I can’t wait until we go to class and learn about music studies. I can’t wait to sing in front of them.”

Your classmate scoffs, “Studious as always. You could loosen up, you know?”

You could go on and on about how hard you’ve worked to grasp this opportunity, only part of the choir was allowed to leave for Tokyo and you weren’t about to let it slip through your fingers for some meaningless fun. You shut your mouth in contempt, letting Sunny drone about all the delicious foods she wants to try.

First day of class

Walking into your group’s classroom- you can already tell how remotely different it is from your classroom tucked away in your high school. The room is a lecture hall that could seat hundreds of university students as various instruments were propped up against the corner of the room. There’s a platform where the professor sits at, a skinny japanese man who thumbs through various piles of sheet music. When the rest of us are seated, university students come piling in as they jostle each other through the doorway. You make eye contact with a boy who enters the room first, his friends hitting him on the back. Your breath hitches in your throat at the sight of such a boy, his eyes are smoked with iridescent highlights, and his hair is a chestnut color accented with violet streaks that shade his eyes slightly. He wears a red bomber jacket, his ripped black jeans tightly wrapping his long legs. Oh god, were you staring? Averting your eyes, the boy winks at you playfully before taking a seat in the aisle in front of you. You hear Sunny whisper in your ear, “Who was that? Did he just wink at you?”

“No, I think he just had something in his eye.”

You don’t expect him to turn around, “You guys must be the choir group that prof told us about, right?”

You and Sunny stare at each other before you respond to him with a burst of confidence, “That’s right. We’re here to learn about music.”

The skinny japanese man stands up on the platform before adjusting his microphone, “And you have come to the right place.”

The boy in front of you whispers at you both, “The name’s Haechan, baby.”

When he turns around to the front, you find yourself interested by this stranger’s behavior. Is this what university is like? Enjoying the lecture couldn’t even begin to describe what you felt. You remembered how you intently listened to the professor talk about music structures and societal conformities and how you talked Sunny’s ear off about it all through lunch. Meanwhile, your classmates and most of the university students had dozed off in their seats. When it was the end of class, your choir teacher had hugged the professor tightly before turning to face the class.

The professor speaks, “As you all may know, my good friend Barbra Lenor has come to Tokyo to teach her students about the art of music. I hope you treat them with respect and kindness. Haechan, Jaemin, and Chenle, you will be responsible for showing them around in exchange for extra credit.”

Haechan flashes a thumbs up to his professor, “Really, sir?”

You hear the boy called Chenle look at Haechan, “I was supposed to join the fortnite tournament tonight..”

The professor laughs at them, “ Haechan, extra credit couldn’t hurt. Chenle, find another time.”

“Class dismissed!”

After you and Sunny gather your belongings into your book bags, Haechan and his two friends stand by your desks as they gaze you up and down. You feel strangely curious yet skeptical. Your mother had always trusted you not to trust college boys- Haechan fit the perfect description of a boy anyone would tell you to watch out for. He radiated overconfidence, cockiness? Haechan scoffs at you, putting one hand at the corner of the table, “Listen girls, we’re very busy people and we won’t have time to do much. You’ll have to follow as we say.”

You narrow your eyes at him, “Why would we have to do that? If you don’t want to, don’t force yourself because god forbid that you would have to.”

A mischievous smirk graces Haechan’s plush lips, he cocks up his eyebrow, “Huh interesting, when are you both free?”

Before you can refuse once more, your two roommates saunter over. Despite being in the same choir for 3 years, you never got to know their names until now. The taller girl was named Sara and her shorter friend- Chloe. Sara was also someone who seemed to fit that image of “a cat-like queen” who checked herself in the mirror every 6 seconds and her friend, Sara’s vessel to push around yet still stuck with her. Sara runs a hand through her brunette hair, “We’re free tomorrow after lecture, what do you say?”

You see Haechan scan Sara with his fiery eyes, licking his lips in the process. You grimace at the action, wondering if anyone had noticed. Haechan nods to you all, “It’s a deal ladies.”

Within the first thirty minutes of the next day’s lecture, you did not wake up to expect that you’d engage in an argument with none other than Haechan. The professor had begun a lecture topic about the ways in which music could be interpreted. He played you a love song from some famous japanese film you had no clue about, still, you explained how hard it would be to understand music in a different language. Haechan countered you by saying that music in different languages is the definition of diversity and that you weren’t trying hard enough to understand it. Before you could refute him, you wanted to wipe the smug grin that was plastered on Haechan’s voice as he chuckled devilishly. The professor stopped you both from continuing, saying that you both brought up good points but missed the central message entirely. You grumbled to Sunny all throughout class. What gave Haechan the right to show off when you had just wanted to learn from others? You doubted that Haechan was at the university to learn anyway. After class, Haechan laughed in your face, “How’s it feel to be scolded by Professor Hinama?”

You roll your eyes at him, violently shoving your books into your bag, “Can it, Haechan. You got scolded just as much as I did.”

‘Yeah, but I’m used to it so it doesn’t get under my skin like it does to you.” You wanted to punch his pretty, perfect face. You felt the tension in your heart swell angrily when Haechan asks, “You guys still on for city-seeing tonight?”

You scoff at him, “As if I’d go with you.”

Sunny begins to clutch your arm as she squeals, “Come on! This is the perfect opportunity to see the city! We have to go!”

You motion to Sara, Chloe, and Sunny, “You guys can go ahead without me, I’m gonna work on my piece for the showcase.”

Sara laughs in a superficial manner, “Fine by me- the better honestly.”

“I won’t go if y/n doesn’t.”

Your eyes widen at Haechan’s statement, “Excuse me?”

“You heard me, you have to come with us.”

“But why?”

“Because you’ll spend your whole time here working. You need to loosen up a little.”

The last part of his statement burns in your brain. You were sick of people calling you uptight just because you wanted to chase your dreams and had real goals. It made you especially annoyed when Haechan said it. You were never this bothered. You didn’t want him to be right.

You answer him, “Fine. Be at our hotel by 7.”

“Yes, scary lady.”

You fight the urge to slash Haechan in the neck, he had Jaemin and Chenle to do that for him.

7 PM.

When 7 PM. rolled around, you had chosen a nice outfit no matter what Haechan and his friends had planned for you. Your mother helped you find your own fashion style, something that you’re deeply grateful for. You opted to wear tight-fitting jeans and a lilac off the shoulder top, silver crystals hung off your ear lobes. Sara clicked her tongue at you, “Wow, y/n, you’ve got style- I give you that.”

You nod at her, “Thanks.”

When Haechan and the boys arrive, you notice that they had taken the dress code just as seriously as you girls had. Haechan wore the same black jeans from before but opted for a matte leather jacket that was littered in gold chains. Jaemin wore shorts with a nice navy blue dress shirt, Chenle opting for a street style look as a white bucket hat shielded his eyes. Haechan moves closer to you, “Wow, miss uptight cleans up nice.”

Rolling your eyes at him, you huff, “I guess the same could go for you.”

Throughout the night, you found yourself enjoying running around Tokyo more than you had expected. The boys had taken you all to a three-story ramen restaurant that was insanely cheap- you couldn’t get enough of Haechan’s teasing when you powered through two bowls loaded of noodles. First, you hit Akihabara which was a neighborhood that was known as the electronic and video game part of the city as humongous robots suspended over taito gaming cafes. Tokyo seemed even more like a fantasy at night, you all would rush onto the subway right before it would leave- out of breath as you leaned back in your seats. Every hour, there was more to see: you went shopping in a nine story mall in Shinjuku, took photos with lolita girls in Omotesando alley, and picked up street-food in Mitaka. By the time you looked at your watch, it was already 1 am. Sunny kept complaining how her heels were hurting her feet so you had decided to do a more laid-back activity. Jaemin led you all to a small karaoke bar in the center of Kabuki-cho where colorful lights blurred in your vision. You felt like you were high on life, glowing sign boards dripped colors of electric blue and cherry reds as you skipped along the street. When you all finally got your private karaoke room, Haechan started to buzz over a waitress. He whispered some japanese words that none of you but his friends understood- the waitress came back with several sparkling glasses on a tray. She sent them down in front of you, you gulped it down for how much your throat hurt. Hiccuping, you and Sunny set the flutes down, you were hit with a sudden realization, “That was alcohol wasn’t it?”

Haechan leans back in his chair comfortably, spreading his legs on the cushion, “Sure was. Have fun.”

In normal circumstances, you never would ever think to drink a drop. Somehow, tonight seemed different and you weren’t about to let your friends get farther than you. Several flutes of sparkly liquids later, you couldn’t see straight. Everything felt like a psychedelic fever dream, faces laughing into yours as you danced on the couch or you belted into the microphone with Chenle.

Standing on the couch, you felt yourself lose balance, your legs wobbling from the effects of the alcohol. You fell, your butt landing on Haechan’s lap. You did the unthinkable- you booped Haechan’s nose with the tip of your finger, you said, “Hello, idiot.”

He held you, his arms wrapped around your waist, “Idiot? Don’t you think you’re talking about yourself?”

Your words slurred together, “Uh huh, yeah, nope, no, you’re a bully sir.”

You take a mental note of the slit in Haechan's eyebrow as he raises his brow at you, “Bully?”

Shoving a finger at his chest, you continue on, “You’re so mean- I just got here and I yeah, I you’re so mean to me in class- you don’t even know me that well.”

“Y/n, I know you’re tough so that’s why I do it.”

“You know, bully, I was upset about being scolded today- how could you bully me?”

Suddenly, Haechan’s expression turns sad, “You were?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t mean to make you feel that way, I-”

You shush him by pressing the pad of your finger to his lips, “Do you have a girlfriend?” You can’t even hear yourself anymore.

Haechan shakes his head, “I’ve never had one.”

You burst out into laughter, your skin feeling hot from Haechan’s fingers grazing the skin by your hip, “Whaaat? You? A playboy who doesn’t care about music at all and winks at strangers?”

Haechan’s frame stiffens, “Is that how you see me?”

Before you can answer, you laugh into Haechan’s shoulder as if his touch is your narcotic, “I don’t feel good but I do-”

The moment ends when he pushes you off his lap, placing a hand on your thigh, “Okay, time to get you home.”

You hear Sunny and Sara whine, Sara clings on to Jaemin’s arm, “Not yet!!”

Haechan stands as he tells Chenle and Jaemin to watch Sara, Chloe, and Sunny, urging them to stay longer. He lifts you bridal style, your arm slung around his neck, “I’m taking you home.”

You still protest by slapping his chest in which he had to deal with the whole train ride back. When you make it up to your room, Haechan sets you down on your bed before tucking the comforter over your body. With alcohol still running in your veins, you grab a hold of his palm, “Can you stay a bit?”

“I thought I was a bully.”

“You are but I don’t hate you.”

Haechan cards his free hand through the tufts of his hair, his face illuminated in the dim light. From that angle, Haechan looks ethereal. He stares down at you with dark eyes, his lips pursed with amusement, “That’s nice to hear.”

He sits on the ground by your head, his hand still intertwined with yours. You don’t know why this question eats up at you, why it even affects you. You whisper to him from under the covers, “Haechan, what do you even go to Tokyo university for?”

He looks at you with softened eyes, his lips pressed into a thin line, “You know, I think you’ve got the wrong idea about me.”

“How so?”

“As a kid, my dream has always been to enter a celebrity training program in Seoul. I’m not that good to be so high level yet so my parents sent me to study in Tokyo first.”

Suddenly, you feel incredibly sober. You sit up on your bed, the cover falling away, “Really? Aren’t those programs really hard physically and mentally?”

He nods, his fingers picking at his chin, “If it wasn’t a challenge, people wouldn’t become asia-based singers. I haven’t given up yet.”

You stare at him in awe, his voice hard with determination and strength, “Wow, I had no idea.”

“What about you?”

You answer him, “I’m my choir’s lead soprano. Like you, I feel like I was destined to sing. My dream is to study here in Tokyo and then balance singing with becoming a music professor.”

Haechan muses, “I’m not surprised, you’re a bright girl. I’ve seen your passion for music, the way you talk with confidence in class. It’s amazing.”

You feel a blush creep up your neck and your cheeks at his compliment, you clear your throat, “Do you write?”

“I do, I’ve been working on my own piece for the showcase.”

Haechan goes silent for a moment before he whips out his phone from his pocket, “Do you write?”

“Of course.”

“I-uh- I’ve been stuck on one verse for a while and I was wondering if you could help me?”

When you look at Haechan’s sparkling eyes, you sense his uncertainty. You sense his conflict. You nod at him, ushering him to read you his song. When he does, you see a different light in Haechan. You take note of the way he taps his foot into rhythm, humming and clicking his tongue to illustrate the flow of the song. You see the makings of an artist. He’s just like you. When he’s done, he looks up at you, “So, this part- here. I’m stuck.”

Immediately, you snap your fingers to the beat as you scat to the song, “I think you should add a b chord here and a f sharp chord there. I think it would highlight the chorus well like playing down the notes before the bridge.”

Haechan scribbles your comments onto his phone, his finger gliding all over the screen. He pauses before ad-libbing the song once again, your advice in account. All of a sudden, he jumps up from his chair before attacking you into a bear hug on to your bed.

“Oh my god, y/n, you did it! My song is done!”

Staring at him with wide eyes, you rest your hands on his shoulders, “Congratulations, Haechan.”

Without a moment to spare, Haechan leans forward to crash his lips onto yours. You pull back in surprise, eyeing him with affirmation. Haechan pins your wrists to the wall as you press your back flat against the wall, allowing him to kiss you fervently. You shiver from the way your lips mold over Haechan’s, his hands intertwined with yours against the wall. Slowly, Haechan drags his lips down to the hollow of your neck, he presses burning kisses to your skin. You sigh with pleasure, a whimper coming from your lips when he straddles your lap. You hear him grunt when you release his hand and press your hand to the back of his neck. He pulls away briefly to look at you, “I’ve never felt this way with anyone before.”

You gaze at him, his eyes half-lidded and drunken of the feeling of your touch, “Me neither.”

He lets his leather jacket fall to the floor before lifting the hem of his white tee over his head. You pause at the sight of him being shirtless in front of you, you drag your fingers across the toned muscle of his chest and his stomach. He’s not extremely ripped but he’s not without muscles either. You hear Haechan’s breathing get heavy when he places his hand over yours. Your bodies are extremely hot now, the temperature rising when Haechan bites your bare shoulder. You whine, feeling the fabric slowly slipping down from your shoulders. You resort to taking it off entirely, it lands by Haechan’s jacket on the floor. When he sinks his teeth into the area near your collarbone, you let out a yelp only for Haechan to whisper in your ear, “Baby, you can’t be too loud.”

You decide to try something new by tugging Haechan’s hair back before pressing your lips to his neck. He laughs at your attempt to be stronger than him, stroking your cheek when you pout, “Don’t laugh at me! See, this counts as bullying!”

He shakes his head before allowing you to pepper kisses down his chest, your hair looped around his fingers. Becoming impatient, he raises your chin to meet his lips again as his tongue parts through your mouth causing you to squeeze his hip bone from the reaction. He wraps his hand around the curve of your thigh, his nails digging into the fabric of your jeans. He starts to whisper in your ear, “I think I’m-”

Before he can finish his sentence, you hear your friends’ voices echoing from down the hall. You push him off you, “oh shit!”

He laughs as he watches you to scramble to put your shirt on. When you do, you turn to see Haechan who isn’t moving at all. He sits on your bed, his shirt and jacket still on the floor, “What are you doing?! They’re coming?!”

He gives you a playful smirk, “And?”

It’s too late. The girls walking in see Haechan shirtless on your bed, red marks all over both of your necks. Sunny gasps the loudest, “Were we interrupting? Oh sorry- jesus-”

Sara and Chloe smirk beside her. You grab Haechan by the arm, pressing his t-shirt and jacket to his chest, “Get out!”

Haechan stammers over his words, clutching his clothes against his body, “Wait- I -Hold on-”

You slam the door in his face, “We have class tomorrow, go home already!”

“Come on, y/n! We were just-”

“I said go home Haechan!”

You hear him waddle away, Sunny and you roommates scampering into bed. You turn off the light, laying back into your pillow- your thoughts plagued with heated moments of Haechan’s lips on yours, blushing at the thought of what could’ve been if you weren’t interrupted.

Your next couple weeks were memories made with your new friends along with Haechan, especially Haechan. You and Haechan made it some secret game to sneak around when your professors and classmates weren’t looking, ransacking the bread stand during lunch. You snuck up on to the roof, Haechan’s warm hand enclosed in yours as he draped his uniform jacket around your shoulders. He’d giggle at your dumb jokes, resting his head on your lap as you’d run your fingers through his coffee-stained hair. It felt like bliss, breathing the cold Tokyo air- alone with a boy who still didn’t cease his teasing during class. You didn’t mind it as much anymore, knowing that Haechan wouldn’t say words with bad intentions. Professor Hinama had scolded you both because Haechan kept trying Chenle to pass you notes that he wrote you, lines of cheesy poems comingled with some crude insults about how you had bedhair or how your breath smelled bad. Of course, you wouldn’t let him win so easily. One night, Haechan decided to take you to a arcade in Shibuya, it was a night that was to be written in the books. Haechan raided you tokens, shoving them into the claw machine because you told him you thought the stuffed bear in the case looked like him. He was determined to win it for you no matter how much you screamed at him for wasting your tokens on one game. You both danced together on the rainbow-colored pad of dance revolution, Haechan pushing you over so you would lose. He might’ve won then but he was not to beat you at mario kart. You concentrated on the spinning track, surging past the finish line at 1st place as Haechan pouted at you, begging for another try. You shook your head, “I won fair and square, end of story.”

“But, y/n, I was distracted!”

“Sucks to suck, doesn’t it?”

Haechan continues to whine at you, you pull him into a hug, “Let’s go play another game!”

By the end of the night, Haechan finally managed to win you that stuffed bear- a souvenir of the newfound feelings you two shared, the fondness of each other.

Many nights were filled with city outings with your friends. Once, Jaemin tried to balance a teppanyaki stick on his nose was Sara and Sunny recorded him at the same time. Little flashbacks of when Haechan grabbed your hand, your friends darting out of the restaurant in order to prank Chenle who was a poor boy who was just in the bathroom, his confused face making you all laugh. It was the little moments and the memory of staring up at Haechan’s bright eyes amongst the colorful lights that made you wish you could stay in Tokyo forever.

Day of the showcase

If you could see inside yourself, you were sure that you could see your nerves bouncing around- darting back and forth in your stomach. You and Haechan spent the last week practicing your pieces- sometimes he would lie to you, claiming that he needed help on averse but pressed a firm kiss to your lips when you leaned in close. You hit his arm, “What if someone walks in?!”

Haechan raises an eyebrow at you, “They should enjoy the show.”

You shove him off his chair before he attacks you with more pecks all over your face, your cheeks tinged with a shade of pink. Once you both were confident in your skills, time seemed to fast forward to the day of the showcase. That evening, you slipped on your favorite dress that your mother packed in your suitcase before you left. Sunny and Sara helped do your hair and your makeup as you wished them luck on their performances.

Walking into the auditorium, it was like everything you dreamed of. It was a grand hall that glowed golden as red, cushioned seats lined the room, a stage at the center under the spotlight. You made your way backstage, thumbing your flashdrive anxiously as your heart beat out of your chest. Was it getting hard to breathe? You felt a sigh of relief when Haechan trotted up to you, placing a hand on your shoulder, “We’ve worked hard, we got this.”

You nod at him, playing with his fingers in the process when you both take your positions in line. Watching from backstage, it’s just as beautiful as watching in the audience. You got to see what each student felt before they stepped out into the light and how they felt after the standing ovations. When it was Haechan’s turn, he straightened his satin tie, giving your hand one last squeeze. You felt your breath hitch in your throat when Haechan sat at a grand piano, his back faced away from the audience. He sighs before meeting your eyes, “This is a special piece I wrote when I was searching for my purpose. Someone has taught me the meaning of music and why I do it- why it connects people.”

You smile when he winks at you as he starts the ballad he had first showed you. The spotlight dims into a shade of periwinkle blue and the screen on the floor blooms as an ivory lily under Haechan’s feet. The whole time you practiced, you admitted how you adored the rawness of his voice. This was on an entirely different level. The way he raised his head when he belted the high notes or the way he would scrunch his nose with emotion made your heart swell. The cheers were ear-deafening, people threw a few flowers at him when he finished. Making his way backstage, he pressed a firm kiss to your lips before gazing at you, “You’ll do amazing.”

Walking past him, you take your place on the center of the stage- the spotlight changing into the rosy pink. You felt a weight sink into your chest. Why were there that many people? You never usually got stage fright, your legs wobbled with anxiety. You looked to the side, Haechan leaned on the stage beam as he nodded at you. Taking a deep breath, you let yourself go. You sang harder than you ever did before, your heart soared every time you remembered your family, friends, and Haechan as the words fell from your lips. When you were done, the crowd screamed for you. Feeling a sense of pride, you bowed to them- your dress basking in the pink spotlight.

The show finished with outstanding performances, each one had a different genre and a unique voice to go with their performances. Haechan lifted you in the air, spinning you as your classmates (now friends) tackled you with happiness. You all felt a sense of achievement, an experience that seemed the most valuable in the world. That was until a tall asian woman dressed in a white suit motioned Haechan over. You watched as he gave you a look of confusion- in your heart, you knew what she was about to say. You didn’t have to hear her words to know. Running back to you, Haechan down-played his enthusiasm of getting a scout letter to Seoul, Jaemin and Chenle pulling it out of his hands to read it. Of course, you were happy for him. Did you have a right to stop someone from chasing their dreams in exchange for your short-lived crush? No. You wouldn’t if he had stopped you. Without hesitation, you wrap your arms around his waist as you whisper to him, “My flight leaves back to the states tomorrow morning.”

You physically feel his body sink with disappointment as he peeled you off his body, “Can’t you just stay here?”

You sweep his hair behind his ear, caressing his cheek, “You’ll be in Seoul, you should take this opportunity to fulfill your dreams and I- well, home is back there..”

Haechan hesitates, stammering over his words, “I-I don’t even know if I-I’m sure about Seoul. What if I can’t? What if-”

You press a lingering kiss to his cheek, “You’ve shown me you’re capable. I know you can.”

Haechan buries his face into your shoulder hastily, you freeze when you hear Haechan let out a sob. All you can do is rub his back comfortingly.

When you head back to the hotel with the girls, Haechan, Jaemin and Chenle make sure to see you before driving to the airport. A tear falls from your cheek, taking in the last few breaths of the sweet air of Tokyo- the city that would always hold a special place in your heart. Haechan pulls you in for one last hug before whispering in your ear, “Promise me you won’t give up on you dreams either.”

Smiling at him, you say, “You won’t see me doing that.”

He presses a kiss to your temple, “You’ll always be the first one to me. No matter what the future is, you’ll always be the first.”

A tear slips down your cheek, you wipe it away quickly, “Thank you. Thank you for everything.”

As your taxi bus drives down the narrow road, you and the girls press your faces against the back window, the three boys pretending to run after the bus. You meet eyes with Haechan, a bright smile on his face as he waves you one last farewell.

Bonus:

Years later

“Hey! y/n! Get downstairs, you’ll be late for school!”

“I’m up!”

Running down the stairs, you slip your jacket over your shoulders before taking a seat at your dining table. You hear your father’s radio playing, a beautiful voice drifting from the small box.

“What’s that song dad?”

Your dad sets down his newspaper, a grin plastered on his face, “I don’t know but some new band released this gem! I can’t stop listening to it!”

You pull out your phone to shazam the song, a profile of a band swiping up on your screen. You don’t believe your eyes. You hold your breath for a moment, Haechan’s photo rotates on the app.

“Do you know them?”

Smiling at your dad, you say, “Something like that.”

In your mind, you’re proud of him. He finally achieved his dream.

45 notes · View notes

mylifeiskara · 5 years

Text

Happy Holidays*, Have a Fic Rec List!

So I realized recently that even though I didn’t start interacting with people until like September, I got back into The 100 last January, even if it was mostly just scrolling through the tags to see what was going on. I’ve been absolutely floored by the writing talent in this fandom, and everyone I’ve interacted with has been so warm and welcoming, which has only encouraged me to write more. So to mark my almost a year of being a lurker and as a fun sort of holiday present to everyone for being so nice, I thought I would go through all my bookmarks and AO3 history and find some of my favorite fics I’ve read this year and share them, complete with commentary somewhat like the way I leave comments on AO3! I’ve read so many more amazing fics than just these ones (which is surprising because I’m a really slow reader), so thank you to literally everyone who writes for this fandom, because you’re all superstars! I get so excited every time someone shares something new, and my marked for later list just keeps getting longer.

This list is mostly Bellarke, but there’s also a couple Murven and one Memori. It’s also abundantly clear that I read mainly modern AUs, so I didn’t bother separating canon things from modern things, but I did separate the complete works and the WIPs. And if I don’t know someone’s Tumblr, I’m just gonna link their AO3 profile!

*I’m pretty sure only one of these fics has to do with a winter holiday, so sorry if that’s misleading!

Complete

Your words on my skin by not_a_total_basket_case Bellamy/Clarke, Rated G (Multi-Chapter) This is the first The 100 fic I ever read, so obviously it has to go first on my list. I don’t read many soulmate AUs, but I liked that soulmates communicated to each other through notes on their skin. The whole thing is just so soft, and I’ve read it a bunch of other times since my first reading. Also bonus points for Clarke and Bellamy being absolute idiots in love.

Feels Like Reckless Driving When We’re Talking by Chash Bellamy/Clarke, Rated E (Multi-Chapter) In this one there’s an age swap, so Bellamy is younger than Clarke, who’s a single mom in her 30s. Bonus points for the presence of Murphy and Emori to help get Clarke out of her head and out of the house so she can meet Bellamy, a hot younger man!

so i sing a song of love by @hiddenpolkadots Bellamy/Clarke, Rated M (One-Shot) This is my comfort fic! I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve read it, but it’s one I keep going back to. I love a good friends with benefits complicated by feelings, and also in this case, pregnancy.

I’ll always wear the crown that you gave me by bellamysgriffinprincess Bellamy/Clarke, Rated G (One-Shot) Best friend’s brother is one of my favorite tropes, and I really love the evolution of Bellamy and Clarke’s relationship throughout the story.

Talking with You in the Dark by @bettsfic Bellamy/Clarke, Rated E (One-Shot) This is like “oh my god they were roommates” adjacent (since they’re neighbors), which is what I like about it. I think I’m just a sucker for stories where Bellamy and Clarke’s relationship kind of evolves in a very natural way. Also the simple ask of wanting to share a bed with someone because you’re lonely is such a mood.

the naked truth by @kombellarke Bellamy/Clarke & Murphy/Raven, Rated E (Multi-Chapter) Speaking of “oh my god they were roommates”! This fic has so much great angst! It’s probably the angstiest thing on this list! I’m not sure if I can adequately put into words my feelings about this fic, other than it’s great, and I feel like everyone’s read it already, but here it is so you can read it again!

guess it’s never really over by @captaindaddykru Bellamy/Clarke, Rated M (One-Shot) I love how even when Bellamy and Clarke are divorced, they’re clearly still so in love. It’s why the idea of them having another kid together didn’t sound absolutely absurd to either of them, and that’s the tea.

You Should Still Take Me Home by @eyessharpweaponshot Bellamy/Clarke, Rated T (One-Shot) This has many things I love, which are fics about New Year’s, friends with benefits, and a college setting. It’s the dream! And it’s really cute!

Here’s What I’ve Got (The Reasons Why Our Marriage Might Work) by @marauders-groupie Bellamy/Clarke, Rated T (Multi-Chapter) I have been trying to come up with the words to describe the way this fic made me feel literally ever since I read it, but my God, I still feel like what I say wouldn’t do it justice. Also there is a very particular word I’m searching for that I have yet to land on. It’s so beautifully written, and I love stories that begin after the couple has broken up. Also they’re actors, and I love a celebrity AU!

Potions et Patroni by chants_de_lune Bellamy/Clarke, Rated T (One-Shot) I love anything to do with Harry Potter or Hogwarts, so adding Bellarke to the mix was just right up my alley. If you haven’t noticed, I really love watching/reading the natural evolution of a relationship, which this fic does a great job of. Also if I were a student at Hogwarts, I would have thought Professor Blake and Professor Griffin were a couple the moment I stepped foot into the school.

starry eyes and galaxy minds (we’ll be dancing on the clouds at night) by @pawprinterfanfic Bellamy/Clarke, Rated M (One-Shot) If Bellamy were Spider-Man, I too would fall in love with him, solely based on his voice. When he removed his mask, him being incredibly attractive would just be an added bonus.

Eons With You by @she-who-the-river-could-not-hold Bellamy/Clarke, Rated G (One-Shot) Another great soulmate fic I stumbled upon! I feel like I’ve never gotten into soulmate AUs until this fandom, but that’s just truly the only way to describe what Bellamy and Clarke are to each other? So yeah, this one has reincarnation and the time periods that are in it are so vivid and great.

And in Other News... by @jeanie205 Bellamy/Clarke, Rated T (Multi-Chapter) News anchors! Who make the most perfect team on the planet! There’s some angst, but this is great fluff. And more bonus points for Clarke and Bellamy being idiots in love.

Rock Bottom by @detectivebellamyblake Bellamy/Clarke & Murphy/Raven, Rated E (Multi-Chapter) Wowee, I love so many things about this fic! Clarke and Murphy are my brotp, so I think that’s why I clicked on it to begin with. I hope to have a group of friends like this when I’m in my mid to late 20s, so I guess I’ve got a couple more years to get working on that. I also love that everyone ends up owning up to the shit they’ve done wrong and growing, which is something we don’t always get to see. And there are such cute moments between so many characters!

Burning Cities and Napalm Skies by @jarleene Murphy/Raven, Rated M (Multi-Chapter) Honestly, don’t remember how I found this one, but I’m so glad I stumbled upon it. I’m really only into Murven in AUs (as I’m low key Memori trash), but this fic just had me hooked. Also as someone who wondered if the show would ever question having to repopulate the human race, I was very on board with the concept. Dare I say bits of this more sense than the season 6 we were actually given?

feat. by Debate Murphy/Emori, Rated T (One-Shot) Please forgive the fact that I called myself Memori trash, yet there is only one Memori fic on this rec list. (But also, if anyone wants to rec me some Memori stuff, literally send it all my way!) I love musician AUs, so I was immediately sold on the idea of Murphy admiring Emori’s band’s music and wanting to write a song with her. It’s just so cute!

WIPs Not as many of these, because I can only follow along with so many unfinished things at a time, but these are ones I’ve been keeping up with!

If the Right One Came Along by @useyourtelescope Bellamy/Clarke, Rated M Another celebrity AU, with a side of friends with benefits! Bellamy is a famous historian, and I am here for that. Literally peak nerd, I’m so proud of him. I really enjoy Clarke and Bellamy’s dynamic as they have to figure out how to be friends again after naturally drifting apart when he moved away. And it feels like each subsequent chapter gets cuter!

All Because of You by @burninghoneyatdusk Bellamy/Clarke, Rated E It’s another best friend’s brother fic! This time with a pregnancy! I really enjoy that this story switches back and forth between the past and the present, so we get to see moments of Bellamy and Clarke when they were teenagers/baby adults, and we get to see them be amazing co-parents in the present as well.

The Hungry and The Hunted by @octaviadblake Bellamy/Clarke, Rated T As I said before, I love musician AUs, and I’m so absolutely pumped for more of this story. I’m a huge fan of Bellamy and Murphy’s dynamic. The 80s setting works really well, and I’m already preparing myself for the coming angst.

someone let the poets out by @kindclaws Bellamy/Clarke, Rated M Another actor AU! But this time, actors gone rogue! This fic is also really cool because it’s mixed media, so there’s little tweets and Tumblr posts and whatnot throughout, so I’ll give you the same recommendation the author does to not read this one on mobile.

That’s all I’ve got for now. But happy reading!

#the 100 #the 100 fanfiction #bellarke fanfiction #bellarke fic rec #the 100 fic rec #fic rec #this was fun to curate #and if anyone wants another at any point in time #hit me up and let me know

154 notes · View notes

astrozones · 5 years

Text

Sanders Behavioral Health, Chapter 2: Roman Has a Rough Time

Angsty fic incoming

my discord server if you wanna join- Astro’s Zone

Three hours.

If Roman had to guess how long he had been staring at himself in the mirror, it was three hours.

From an outside perspective, Roman might seem conceited and narcissistic. But while staring at the mirror, all Roman could see were mistakes.

His hair looked messy, people were going to laugh at him.

His freckles stood out. He could cover them with makeup, but if others found out he was wearing makeup- god he could barely stand the thought.

His face looked odd in general. And his weight? Don’t get him started! Looking at his arms, his legs, his chest, all he could see were flaws, flaws , flaws !

Roman felt tears threatening to spill and shoved his head into a pillow. Why did he have to be so… ugly? Why must whatever God up there curse him like this? And no matter how many times his grandparents and aunt told him he wasn’t, he just couldn’t see what the fuck they were talking about.

Well, at least he was in therapy. Maybe they’d fix him.

Roman’s parents weren’t too fond of him, he knew. They were the only ones that would admit the truth, that he was ugly, and that they didn’t deserve such a disgusting son. They would take any opportunity to get him away from them, and once his distant relatives had suggested taking Roman to therapy, citing his ‘sudden declining happiness’, and ‘inability to eat’, his parents had leaped at the possibility, taking the chance as soon as they could.

They had talked about putting him in the six-hour program that started earlier in the day. The only reason they didn’t was because the school would start coming after them for attendance issues. Well, more than they usually did, anyway.

Roman glanced back up at the mirror, frowning. He couldn’t go to school looking like this, no, they’d just make fun of him.

Another day of skipping school it was.

His parents wouldn’t care, they never did until they were being yelled at. He’d just creep downstairs and tell whatever parent was down there taking a swig of alcohol that he was staying home, they’d just grunt and wave him off. And once the school called, they’d tell them he was sick, and rush upstairs to yell at him that he hadn’t told them before heading off to work.

Today was no different.

It was about noon when Roman opened the cupboard for the first time that day. Skimming over the options, he bit his lip. There was nothing there that he wanted . He had everything he should want, plenty of options that many kids would kill to have, and yet Roman didn’t want any of it. He didn’t really know what he wanted, he was barely hungry anyway. He’d just come back to it later and choose something then.

He ignored the voice in his head that told him he wouldn’t.

Grabbing his backpack, he made his way back to his room to start his homework. Well, “start” his homework, which actually meant wallowing in his sorrow while thinking about the week so far.

Therapy was… okay so far. He couldn’t tell them a lot of stuff, just that he was insecure. He wouldn’t tell them about how he hated looking in mirrors, or that he struggled to even eat a snack during the day. No, no, then they would know too much. If his parents found out, there would be consequences. Not hitting or anything! His parents would never abuse him.

Never.

His first day had been mediocre. He filled out questionnaires, and they played a board game for rec. Nothing important. Nothing new. Nothing, just like how he saw himself.

At least he wasn’t the only new kid. There was the hoodie kid, who he had made uncomfortable with his stupid assumptions , and who he had given a terrible nickname to. Really, Roman? You could at least come up with something better . And Patton told him he arrived last week Wednesday, and Logan two days prior. So, all in all, they were all new. Which was great!

Roman couldn’t help but feel happy at meeting the others. Sue him, he loved meeting new people! The prospect of finding out something about a person you barely knew was fun, at least to him.

You should stop, you’re prying into people’s lives when they don’t want you to. The voice in his head said. Roman didn’t acknowledge it in the rest of his internal monologue.

Logan was nice, despite his attitude the day prior. On Roman’s first day, he had been very helpful in his own, stubborn way. They had a couple of back-and-forths, and while that might seem aggressive to others, it made Roman feel more comfortable. Logan liked him enough to argue without any hate behind it.

Patton was unbelievably kind. He would go out of his way to help Roman and Logan, even when they were battling via a board game. Patton had hugged him the moment he saw Roman, but when Roman had seemed apprehensive he backed off a little bit. Not to say that he calmed down in the slightest, he was practically bouncing in his chair when they played.

And then there was Virgil, the one who had taken on the resident ‘New Kid’ title. He was quieter than the others, more resigned. When Roman had actually started getting him to talk, he started coming out of his shell, or hoodie, a little bit. This made Roman extremely happy, at least he was likeable enough for the more apprehensive to talk to him! Roman had also noticed that Virgil had black nail polish on, which made him want to do his own.

Well, Roman never really had good impulse control.

20 minutes later, Roman’s nails were red and absolutely fabulous.

5 minutes later, Roman realized in a panic that he had run out of acetone, and would have to either pick at his nails or go outside with nail polish on. He was a boy! He would definitely get made fun of, and Roman was not in the mood for that today, no thank you.

He settled down on his bed, ‘forgetting’ about the homework that was glaring threateningly at him from his desk.

Roman ignored it.

Roman spent the rest of his free time scrolling through Instagram and YouTube.

And then it was time to go.

Roman settled into the lobby seat, earlier than he had planned. The lobby was silent, and felt awkward with no background noise. He was used to buzzing, the wind, birds chirping, literally any noise, but in here? Nothing.

He wasn’t very comfortable.

Minutes went by as Roman sat, waiting for the others. He knew he shouldn’t have come so early, curse his anxieties over coming in late. He was currently in a very heated stare-off with the carpeted floor as of now. Just waiting.

After what felt like hours, Virgil entered the room in all of his emo glory. He looked surprised at not being the only person to arrive obnoxiously early.

“Oh, uh, hey. Roman, right?” Virgil muttered, walking to the front desk to sign in. Quick, Roman, act normal!

“The one and only,” Roman said, with a grin that felt as fake as the Kardashian’s “drama”. And it appeared Roman was a good actor, since Virgil didn’t react at all other than a scoff. Jesus, the voice in his head said. No wonder he doesn’t want to talk to you, you’re so boring. Roman grinned at Virgil, attempting to seem more… well, positive, but Virgil didn’t seem to notice him. Or he’s just ignoring you.

The receptionist grinned at Virgil once he was done. “You should go sit by Roman and talk!” She said, apparently oblivious to the anxiety radiating between the two. Virgil spluttered for a few seconds before walking towards Roman and sitting down. Both of them were silent for a few seconds, both trying to think of something to say.

“So, what’d you think of your first day?” Roman asked, just barely hiding the stress he was feeling. Acting really was the only thing he was good at, and despite how much his parents shunned it, it was useful in situations like this. Situations he faced every day, really.

“I don’t know, I guess it was fine.” Virgil said. “Nothing really happened, y’know?”

Nothing . He hated that word.

“Eh, you’re right. Still, rec was fun, yeah?”

“Rec?” Was all Virgil said, staring at him in confusion. Oh, right.

“Rec is, well, just what we say to shorten the whole recreational therapy thing. Sorry, I keep forgetting you’re new!” Goddamn it, Roman! You’re such an idiot . “I guess you just… fit right in, yeah?”

“Fit right in with the mentally unstable. Great,” Virgil deadpanned, causing Roman to snort.

“I mean, I suppose you could say it like that.” He said between quiet giggles. He hadn’t expected that answer. Virgil gave a small smile in return, clearly feeling at least a bit awkward. Oops.

“Well, today’s gonna be way different,” Roman started, with a smirk. “‘Cause you’ll have to actually join us in the cafeteria this time.” As he said that, Virgil’s smile slipped and he groaned, practically shoving his face into his palms. Roman laughed. “Me too, man.”

“Really? Would’ve pegged you for the type to be ecstatic about being around others.” Virgil stated, turning in his seat to face Roman a bit more. Roman shrugged in response.

“I mean, kinda? There’s pros and cons to it, y’know? And-” Roman cut himself off before he could continue. Stupid Roman, you don’t just rant all your problems out to an innocent stranger. He shook his head. “Eh, nevermind, I dunno where I was going with that”

Virgil looked slightly concerned, but didn’t comment on it. Roman slapped another cheery grin on his face before continuing. “So, what’d’ya think of the others?”

“Well… one seemed nice, Patton, if I remember correctly. I don’t know about Logan though… No offense to him or anything!”

“Logan’s pretty nice from my experience. I may not have spoken to him long, only a couple days, but those days were pretty chill. I guess something happened? Maybe it was so many new people or something?” Roman started tapping his foot on the ground, and fidgeting with the zipper of his jacket. He didn’t want to insult Logan, but his behavior yesterday was pretty aggressive.

Virgil started chewing on his hoodie strings, which only slightly muffled his voice when he answered. “I guess. I’ll just… go with the flow. I don’t… want to get myself into something I can’t get out of, y’know? I’ve had enough of that in my life.”

“I don’t think I’m following here…”

“Oh! Um, I didn’t really… uh mean to say that out loud…? Heh, sorry… just not really… um, open to talk about that?” Virgil stammered out, shrinking into his hoodie.

“Heyheyhey, no need to worry about it! I’m not gonna pressure you into something you don’t wanna talk about. After all, this is therapy, we’re gonna go through worse. Probably.” Roman quickly responded in a panicked state. Virgil buried his face in his hands once more, muttering “don’t remind me we’re in therapy”. Roman smiled. He didn’t want to call it too soon, but… maybe he could make a friend?

After talking for about 10 minutes, everyone had arrived and Becca called them into the back. From here, it was a game of ‘try to get to the check-in room first’ to get into one of the two spinny chairs. Usually, Patton and Roman would get the chairs, as Logan would say, “There’s no use grabbing a revolving chair when we’re only going to be here for a few minutes.” But with the addition of Virgil to their daily group, Roman wanted to make sure he got one of those seats. They were the most comfortable, and they were fun! Both were a plus.

Arriving first in the room, he plopped down into a spinny chair, spinning himself around before grabbing a check-in sheet. Success!

Becca joined him in the room soon after, Virgil trailing behind her. After Becca handed Virgil a sheet and motioned for him to choose a seat, he sat in the swivel chair beside Roman.

Patton and Logan joined them soon after, having been walking slower while they talked. Patton didn’t look disappointed as he lost the title of Swivel Chair Holder, only smiled brighter as he grabbed a sheet and asked Logan to sit beside him.

Logan himself, however, looked at Virgil and winced, presumably because of his behavior the other day. Logan looked apprehensive, torn between sitting by Patton or apologizing to Virgil. But once Becca kneeled down to show Virgil what to fill out, Logan knew his chance was gone.

Well, that’s what Roman thought, anyway.

The room was silent other than the sound of pen on paper. Roman tapped his foot unconsciously as he thought.

See, at Sanders, they ask you to rate your anxiety, avoidance, and depression every day. But instead of using 0-5 or 0-10 they decided to use a 0-7 scale for who knows why.

So, what was his anxiety today? Roman bit the inside of his cheek as he thought. Maybe a 4? Or maybe a 5? Well, seeing as his anxiety was raising as he struggled to find an answer, he put down 5. As for avoidance and depression, 3 and 4 respectively.

Just a couple more questions down, and then he was free to doodle. It had become a ritual during his time here, despite not being here that long. Today’s piece of art was a doodle of a Prince. A crown, sash, and a dazzling grin, and he was done. He glanced up to see Virgil was the only one still filling out the sheet.

Well, he supposed he could add some more sparkles.

Once Virgil was done, Becca clapped her hands and asked for them to share. Patton went first, going through his emotion, his anxiety, avoidance + depression, and other questions. Logan was next, doing the same but refusing to share his emotion. Then it was Roman’s turn, and he sped through it as quick as possible, not wanting to concern any of the others.

On Virgil’s turn, he went quiet and stuttered numerous times throughout the reading. He was reluctant to speak about the bottom four questions, specifically. Well, kinda. There were the two questions of ‘since yesterday have you had thoughts of harming others/have you actually done it’. There was also the ‘have you had thoughts of harming yourself/done it’. Quietly, Virgil asked not to share, and Becca agreed, though looking thoroughly disappointed.

Pulling out his binder and a pen with an excessive plume, Roman sat down at the middle table. Patton and Logan sat near him, while Virgil took a seat at a corner table, Becca joining him soon after to brief him on the ins and outs. Keep in mind, there were only three tables, so the options were at a minimum.

Shocked back into reality by someone sitting next to him, he turned to see the other therapist, Charlie, seated at his right.

“Hello, Roman! You finished your introduction exposure yesterday, right?” She asked. And she was right, yesterday had been spent introducing himself to the various staff around the building, and at the extreme lack of such, had to introduce himself to some of them twice . At Roman’s nod, she continued.

“So, today we’ll set you up with a couple more exposures, based on what you’ve told us. So, here,” she started, pointing at the next unnamed category on the page. “The first exposure is to put a mark on your face. It has to be noticeable, too. Just use a pen for that one, you don’t need anything special. Then all you need to do is talk to people.”

Nodding, Roman scribbled it down on the page, telling himself he wouldn’t do that one until he absolutely had to.

“And the next one is just wearing jewelry. Anything like a necklace, bracelets, rings, will work fine. You won’t have to wear them the whole day, just do trials for about 30 seconds. If you don’t have anything to wear right now just bring some tomorrow and we’ll start then.”

Fuck. Now he had to.

“Uh, yeah I don’t have any… jewelry. So, for the first one, do I gotta like… do any specific thing, like a word or…?”

“Just a line will do.”

And with that, Roman got up to go to ask to go to the bathroom, only stopped by Charlie’s hand on his arm. He gave her a questioning look.

“I was just gonna go to the bathroom… to put the mark on my face. Is something wrong?” He asked. Charlie shook her head.

“Do it here. If you use the mirror, it will loosen some of the anxiety. The point of this is to combat the anxiety, full on. No avoiding.”

“But I like avoiding.” Roman mumbled to himself. He didn’t think anyone heard, but the quiet giggle from Patton proved otherwise. Charlie just gave him an encouraging smile.

Sitting back down, Roman picked up his pen, while Charlie walked to her computer. Roman stared at the pen as if he were about to make a life-changing decision.

Just put the pen on your face, it’s not that hard . Except it was hard, at least for him. God, he really was a failure if he couldn’t force himself to make a mark on his face.

It was oh-so-simple. A mark on the face. But all Roman could think of were the consequences. They could laugh at him, they could ignore it, and worst of all, they could point it out . Just the thought of people making assumptions or putting themselves in awkward situations just because they didn’t want to embarass him made him want to throw himself off a roof.

He could feel his hands shaking, and, looking down, the rest of him was shaking too. Calm down, he told himself. What was one of the coping methods he learned?

Name 5 things you can see. He glanced around. The table, the window, Patton, Virgil, and his binder. Okay.

4 things you can feel. His clothes, the chair. He could feel his hair flopping into his face, and suddenly another spark of anxiety ignited in his chest. Deep breathing, Roman. Deep breathing. He could feel his hands starting to shake again.

3 things you can hear. All he could hear was the tap of fingers against a keyboard, what else… He strained to hear, and found he could hear the cars on the highway, something his brain had apparently decided to discard. And the sound of the door opening, with Logan walking in to prove it.

What was next? 2 things you could smell. Okay, well, he couldn’t smell much. There was the smell of mint, but other than that he couldn’t smell anything. He found himself glancing around, anxiety increasing once more. And, yes! A whiff of perfume blew past his nose.

1 thing you can taste. Well, not much. Did the inside of this mouth count? Well, he supposed it had to, since he wasn’t about to go lick the wall.

Roman took another few moments to himself, distracting himself by tapping his foot against the floor.

He found himself in front of Nurse Vicki’s office, a pen mark on his face and the dread of what was to come. Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door and let himself in.

Vicki turned to him. “Hello, Roman,” she greeted. “What do you need?”

What was he supposed to say? Charlie told him he wasn’t supposed to mention the mark, and rather to just make small talk. He would rather have had a topic but he hadn’t taken those improv classes for nothing!

“How has your day been?” he said.

Welp. He had taken those improv classes for nothing.

Vicki explained that she was doing well, she had gone to her sister’s house after group yesterday, so she was happy about that. She didn’t mention the mark.

Thank god .

He cycled through a couple other staff, anxiety slowly loosening its grip as he progressed. And no one had pointed out the mark! When he looked at his sheet after his sixth trial, he noticed his anxiety had went from a 6 to a 4, and he was feeling proud of himself as he walked into the hallway once more.

He spotted Virgil down the hall, fiddling with the timer in his hands. Roman strutted towards him, intending to make Virgil his seventh trial of the mark exposure.

“Hey, Virgil, you busy?” he asked. Virgil shook his head. “Aight, cool. How’re exposure’s going so far?”

“I don’t like them.” Came his response. Roman laughed, replying with, “No one likes them.”

“All I’ve been doing is introducing myself but… I introduced myself to all the staff and I still have 4 trials to go before I’m finished and, honestly-” Virgil ran a hand through his hair, voice strained. “I don’t know what to do and I’ll feel awkward asking Becca what I’m supposed to do now… Sorry for ranting…” He finished.

Roman smiled. “I just finished that exposure yesterday, and Charlie, er, the other therapist, told me we can introduce ourselves to the same staff twice.” Virgil wrinkled his nose at this, frowning slightly.

“If I’m being honest, that’s even worse.” Virgil started fidgeting with the edge of his hoodie. He seemed apprehensive about something, whatever it was Roman had no clue.

“Uh, also… you have a mark on your face. Uh, just figured I’d tell you, sorry”

And with that, Roman felt his anxiety get to a 7 faster than soda out of a newly opened can. “Heh, yeah. I mean, uh- thanks, Virgil. I’ll fix it when I can. Um, gotta go now, so, see ya!” He called as he powerwalked his way back to the cafeteria. He could barely hear anything as he sat down in his seat, staring out the window across from him. Oh, god. Someone had noticed. Someone had noticed and now he was going to laugh at him behind his back. He was going to tell Patton, and Logan, just how stupid Roman was. Roman stopped breathing for a few moments, trying to calm himself down.

Virgil wouldn’t do that, he was just trying to be helpful. And Roman had run away from him, oh god , he was probably confused and Roman had not helped the situation. He supposed he would have to apologize later, he was too frazzled now. He wanted so bad to wipe the mark off his face, but he knew Charlie and Becca would be disappointed in him if he did.

5 minutes later, he felt much calmer, his breathing normal, and his chest felt less compressed. His anxiety had come to a 3, so he stopped the timer at 6 minutes and 24 seconds. He scribbled down the results as Virgil came back into the room, seemingly just out of an exposure, so Roman gave him a smile in lieu of an apology, not allowed to talk to someone while they were in the middle of an exposure.

Roman decided he would apologize at rec.

Roman never got to apologize. Today’s rec was a hands-on activity that left him with no time to talk to Virgil. And just after rec, he saw Logan talking with him, and since he didn’t want to stay there too long, Roman decided he would just get in the elevator.

His mind told him he should take the stairs, else he would just gain more weight.

Once he got down, he took some time to shuffle through his binder, he had a weird feeling that he left something, and-

The elevator dinged, and the door opened as Virgil, Logan, Patton, and their parents shuffled out. Patton tugged on his mom’s shirt, telling her to stop for a moment. He practically bounced up to Roman, a grin on his face.

“Roman! I’m glad I caught you. I got Virgil and Logan’s phone numbers, and I was wondering if I could have yours? No pressure, of course! But it’d be nice if we were in touch outside of therapy. And I can give you the other’s numbers so we’re ALL in touch!” Patton extended his phone to Roman, the latter of which taking it and inputting his number. Maybe this could work out after all?

[ Hey, this is Roman and I sure as hell hope this is Virgil.]

| yea its virgil |

[ Oh thank god. Just wanted to say sorry for running off on you earlier, wouldve said it after rec but i saw you talking with Logan and didnt want to intrude. ]

| don’t worry about it, it’s fine. |

| what’s not fine is you sending that right as i walk into my house |

| i nearly faceplanted the ground cause of you |

[ And i oop- ]

| did |

| please tell me that was ironic |

| i might have a stroke if it wasn’t |

[ Youll never know ;) ]

| oh my god |

| i just |

| i can’t |

| have a good night Roman |

[ Right back at you, buckaroo ]

| oh my god |

30 notes · View notes

adropofmelanin · 6 years

Text

To Move On pt.1

Summary: You’ve had your eyes on M’Baku Hanuman since you could remember and you finally decide to confess your love for him.

College!AU

Pairing(s): M’Baku X Reader, W’Kabi x OC

Warning(s): Conversation, pics of his beauty

Dedicated to: @wakanda-inspired

Written by: @wakandanblogger

(gifs and images do not belong to me)

***************************************************************************************

“You’re staring again,” A voice pulls you out of your trance and you nearly trip and drop all of your books on the ground. Dre laughs at your embarrassment and nudges you, “You are something else girl, I swear.”

You just glare at her and clear your throat while recollecting yourself. When you look back up, he was walking into the Rec Building with the biggest smile, must be laughing at something one of his friends must have said.

“He’s just... so... MMM, like girl, I just don’t understand,” You start and whine to yourself as the two of you pass the building and you damn near break your neck to catch just one more glimpse of him.

M’Baku Hanuman.

One of the star players for the Mid-State University football team, smart ass all hell, and here on a full ride scholarship. Everyone knew his name and everyone wanted to be his friend, but he was picky about what crowd he wanted to surround himself with and you didn’t get mad at him for that. He was trying to make a name for himself but you never heard anything about him wanting to go pro. His grades were great without the help of teachers or smart kids in class because he WAS the smart kid in class. Long story short, M’Baku was all around perfect and you wanted him in your life forever!

The two of your were partnered together for a Writing project for your Writing 103 class and the two of you luckily became friends, but as said before, “YOU WANTED HIM IN YOUR LIFE FOREVER”. You got to know M’Baku and hung out a few times last semester but that was all.

“I just don’t understand why you can’t just go up to him and talk to him, he knows who you are,” Dre smirks cutting her eye at you then forward again. The two of you rush over to the campus shuttle that was approaching and get in line to board. As you’re boarding you push your way to two empty seats and swing your backpack off to blop down. Dre did the same and pulled out her phone, you watched as she began to type something.

“Dre?”

“Hmm?” She answers not looking at you.

“What are you doing,” You groan watching as she typed in M’Baku’s Instagram account and skimming over the bio once again.

“Single. There is still a shot y/n, running out of tiiiime,” she giggles wiggling it in your face. You roll your eyes and swap at it but she pulls back quicker. You sit there for a moment and watch as she scrolls through his pictures.

“Oh my god,” You whisper to yourself before cutting your eyes to see that Dre was scrolling through his pictures also.

“I swear, I will search all of Africa for a man like this, where do they birth men like this!” You groan and Dre bursts out laughing. You scroll some more and you just don’t understand how handsome this man is.

* Had a great time celebrating the win with these guys last night!

* Greatness begins with you

What does that even mean? You didn’t care, you only wanted to feel those lips and feel on his muscles of greatness. Why did you have to put yourself through all of this suffering?

“WHYYYYYY!?” You cry out and almost everyone on the shuttle cuts their eyes to you, including Dre. She scoffs before standing up at your stop, “Weirdo.” You couldn’t believe yourself, you were ashamed and embarrassed as you walked off of the campus shuttle and met up with Dre who waited for you. You needed to chill out! You were losing some yourself over some guy who probably doesn’t remember your name, football players tend to do that. You followed Dre into her building and climbed the stairs to her door and waited as she fumbled with the keys. When she pushes the door open, she flicks the lights and throws her stuff on the empty bed next to the door. Dre requested a private dorm because she hates people and doesn’t trust them with her things, and you couldn’t blame here. just the other day you saw your roommate wearing a hairpiece of yours.

Dre flops on her bed and you sit down in a chair still on your phone, but this time you were on snap chat and what do you know, BigBaku_27 has posted something new to his story:

“Ugh! Dreeeee!” You drop your head and show her the phone and lets out a ‘shoo!’

“Girl, I will sit on Kabi’s face, like girl I SWEEEAR!” She bites her bottom lip and looks up to see just your furrowed brows and judgemental eyes staring back at her. “What bitch!? He is sexy as fuck! Way sexier than Erik Pretty Boooooy Stevens,” She says mocking the basketball announcer, “I swear he would look a lot better if he’d cut that shit off his head. It’s like The Weeknd all over again man,” She chuckles and crosses her arms.

Just then a little promotion poster slid across her tile floor and the silhouettes of people walk past her window. You go to pick up the poster and notice that it’s a party being hosted by the football team tonight.

“You wanna go tonight,” Dre says with a devilish grin and it almost scares you. You chuckle and flip over the little card, examining it.

“Mmmm-I would but I have a take home test I want to finish,” You look up to Dre and she is unamused.

“.... You goin’” She decides for you and you hold up your hands to argue but she yells over you and the two of you are just shouting at one another at this point.

“WE ARE GOING! Baku is going to be there and I want my girl to be on the arm of the sexiest man on the football team!” Dre laughs and you groan. How did she know M’Baku was going to be there in the first place? You began to fuss and whine about this idea but she wasn’t having it. For the rest of the day, Dre did your hair and was getting you set up for tonight's event! The closer it got to time to go, the more nervous and terrified you got. But Dre refused to listen to any of your pleas.

In fact, she put you in an outfit that showed off your curve and all the right things, that made you look stunning. You looked at yourself in the mirror and got butterflies, who was this in standing in front of you. Your fingertips examined the fabric of your outfit and you looked over to Dre who was finishing her own face. She looks to you and grins, “We look HOT,” she giggles and you can’t help but let out a squeal as the two of you did a final check of everything you needed.

The music was loud, blasting even. You heard it from the Uber and you began to get nervous. M’Baku was in there somewhere, turning up and looking sexy as fuck doing it. When you step out of the car you sudden;y felt exposed and that you wanted to go home. “I want to go home!” You cry to Dre and she gives you the craziest look.

“Girl! I be damned if we are leaving this party remembering the night and without a man. Get yo ass in here!” She says grabbing you by the wrist and dragging you into the venue. You step in line and wait, it was surprisingly going faster than you wanted it to. You sigh and lean against Dre who was talking to someone she knew, just then you hear the thunderous laugh that sent chills down your spine. Your head spins around to see M’Baku, Erik, W’Kabi and a few other friends walking coming up. You damn near hide your face but Dre refused to let you.

“Hey W’Kabi!” Dre blurts out and you are in horror when he stops and the rest of the group stops with him. They walk over to the line and can’t help but want to drop dead! Your heart was racing and you began to sweat.

“What’s up Big Dre, how are you?” He smiles giving her a hug while the rest of them say hello and Erik Stevens eyes fall on you.

“Damn Kabi,” He smirks kissing his teeth, “you ain't tell me you had some fine ass friends,” he says shamelessly checking you out. You were flattered but that wasn’t the kind of attention you wanted, at least not from him anyway. M’Baku steps up and scolds Erik, “Put your uume back in your pants, how are you y/n, didn’t think I would ever see you here.”

Was he talking to you? He couldn’t be! You began to panic internally but you played it off like a fucking champ.

“Dre said I needed to ‘relax’ and ‘let go’ whatever that means,” You smile and he chuckles with you.

“How about y’all come in with us,” Erik grins and your eyes widen, “VIP pass,” the gold fangs in his mouth flashes and you roll your eyes internally but nod in thanks. The two of you blend in with the group of guys as if the two of you belonged there. Dre cozied up under W’Kabi’s arm and the two of them were laughing about something while you were in between Erik and M’Baku who were also talking over you.

How were you going to get his attention, confess your love? Ask him out? You had his number but you were too afraid to ever text him out of the blue. This was so stressful and you were so lost in though it took Erik saying your name a couple times to get your attention.

“H-huh, what?” You say looking up at the both of them.

“What do you think y/n,? Do you think we are going to beat Southern this season, I mean our stats are up higher then they have been!?” Erik seemed pretty irritated but it wasn’t towards you but at M’Baku.

“I’m not a sports person,” You smile and Erik lets out a loud, ‘MAAAAAIN! You are NO help baby girl!” and you can’t help but laugh with M’Baku.

When the group entered into the building, the music damn near hurt your ears but you were here and you were so close to a heart attack.

“You wanna party with us? We got a corner,” W’Kabi offers and you look it over with your friend before nodding in sync.

“Bet! Let’s turn the fuck up then!” Erik shouts wrapping his arms around the both of your shoulders and guides you towards the corner VIP seats.

Let’s see how this night goes.

To be continued....

213 notes · View notes

aliferous-ly · 6 years

Note

Find yourself and grow - bnha

this has nothing to do with the prompt but it inspired this s oooooooooo yup

Kirishima stared at the ceiling. An uncertain sort of energy thrummed through him, his eyes exhausted and bones like jelly but unable to close his eyes, his mind active but muted like a frizzled television.

He didn’t have the energy to get up but he didn’t have the ability to sleep, so Kirishima leaned over and grabbed his phone. Turning it on started a small headache right behind his eyes but Kirishima didn’t know what else to do, so he scrolled through a few social media sites, staring but not seeing.

A snapchat notification appeared at the top of his screen. [BROCCOLI BOI is typing…]

Kirishima narrowed his eyes and waited for the consecutive “BROCCOLI BOI has sent you a snap!”, but it never came.

He went to snapchat anyway, hovering over Izuku’s name for only a second before clicking.

[you] hey i saw u typing u up

Kirishima waited, hoping that Izuku was actually up and that snapchat didn’t glitch on him. Izuku’s profile bubbled, indicating that he was typing, and Kirishima let out a breath of relief.

[BROCCOLI BOI] yea sorry about that haha!

[BROCCOLI BOI] just a lil tired didnt want to bother u

[you] no worries i’m up too

[BROCCOLI BOI] you really should be getting sleep! sleep is incredibly important for lots of things

[you] i could say the same to u bro

[you] why u up?

[BROCCOLI BOI] why r u up?

[you] uh couldnt sleep

[BROCCOLI BOI] me neither

[you] ah

[BROCCOLI BOI] u should go to sleep tho

[you] u first

[BROCCOLI BOI] i can’t

[you] me neither

[you] i’m so tired i can’t get up but i cant fall asleep

[BROCCOLI BOI] wanna hang out in the lobby

[you] i just said im too tired to get up

[BROCCOLI BOI] but ur awake

[BROCCOLI BOI] i can carry u

[you] dude no i’m rlly heavy

[you] comes w the perks of being a literal rock

[BROCCOLI BOI] is that a challenge

[you] i mean go off deku

[BROCCOLI BOI] brt

“Oh my god,” Kirishima said aloud, running a hand down his face. “Oh man.”

Not a minute later he heard knocking before his door swung open, Midoriya genuinely standing in his threshold with All Might pajama pants and a plain red t-shirt.

Kirishima started sitting up, the fatigue receding for a moment as he laughed in shock. “I can’t believe you’re here, Midori– ah!” Kirishima yelped in surprise as Midoriya strode forwards and leaned down, placing his arms under Kirishima’s knees and behind his shoulders, picking him up effortlessly.

“Midoriya!” Kirishima threw his arms around Midoriya’s shoulders in shock, his body tensing instinctively.

A dusting of pink was brushed on Midoriya’s cheeks, but he said, “You aren’t that heavy, you know.”

Kirishima stared at him.

Midoriya shifted, then, looking more and more awkward. “I’m… I’m sorry? Uh. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Uh.”

“This is the most incredible thing that has ever happened to me,” Kirishima said, in awe. And wow, this was not great for his mini crush, honestly.

Mini. Yeah, okay.

Midoriya’s flush grew deeper but he didn’t set Kirishima down, instead positioning him into a more comfortable hold and stepping away from the bed. “So, uh, to the commons?”

“Let’s go to the rec room,” Kirishima said. The commons was always colder than the rec room, being so close to the entrance.

“The rec room…?” Midoriya said slowly. “There’s…?”

“Holy– okay, Midoriya, prepare to have your mind blown,” Kirishima said, gesturing with one hand for emphasis. “It’s like the commons but with like, way more pillows, and a way better TV, it’s hidden though, and there’s a code, you gotta follow it, okay?”

“Alright,” Midoriya said, laughter in his voice. “Lead the way, then?”

Kirishima flushed and wrapped his arms around Midoriya’s shoulders and neck again. He could probably walk, especially after Midoriya hyping him up about the rec room, but who was he to turn down such a rare experience?

Kirishima led him through the hallways, Midoriya giving him strange looks when he told him to go through the boiler room to get there. They eventually reached a door with a wooden sign. Which, in reality, was more of a wooden slab pinned to the door. Burnt into the wood said “enter if you dare”.

Kirishima exuberantly gestured to the door. “Here it is! All your hopes and dreams behind these hallowed doors!”

Midoriya glanced at him, then turned his gaze pointedly at the wood, a blush creeping up his neck as he muttered, “doubt it.”

“Hey dude, okay, I gotta–” Kirishima struggled out of Midoriya’s arms, now wide-awake and excited. “Initiation. So. You are about to enter the former abode of the hero squad known as Burnout.”

Midoriya hide his smile at Kirishima’s grave expression and jazz hands.

“Burnout found this abandoned room years ago and renovated it. They’re inspirations, really, and there’s rules pinned around the room that we have to follow or the room will reject us,” Kirishima said, nodding seriously. “A main one: no telling teachers. Legend says a member attempted to inform a teacher and they were never seen again…” Kirishima said lowly, then added, “just kidding! They were unable to use their quirk for a few hours. And they lost the trust of everyone else, obviously.”

“That sounds easy enough,” Midoriya said, mind already running through the possible quirks with such a power. It would have to encompass the room, but also be able to effect any who knew about it – including technically him as well, unless the rules weren’t enacted until he entered the room itself. Then the quirk had to be able to cause losing another quirk for a select amount of time by spoken word, maybe? These rules sounded awfully hard to enforce, and –

“’Doriya, my dude,” Kirishima punched him lightly in the shoulder. “Stay with me my man, that was only one.”

“Ah, sorry!” Midoriya blushed and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.

“Rule number two,” Kirishima said, holding up two fingers. “No fighting. Real fighting, since it can tell the difference, somehow. Quirk usage is okay, but once it gets too… real, you gotta take it outside. That one makes you really tired, I know from experience.”

“…okay,” Midoriya said, deciding life would be easier the less questions he asked. Less time spent talking, the sooner they’d actually go in.

“Those are the most important ones I guess,” Kirishima mused, shrugging. “Alright, Midoriya, initiation over!”

Kirishima pushed the door open and beckoned Midoriya in, letting the door fall shut after Midoriya had entered.

“Welcome to the rec room!” Kirishima said proudly, like he was presenting a personal accomplishment.

The room could hold a decent amount of people while retaining that cozy size, with two couches, two recliners, and an uncountable amount of varying sizes and kinds of beanbags thrown about. Just as Kirishima promised, a large flat-screen sat on one wall, but a minifridge ran softly in the back of the room with a shaded window nearby.

“Wow,” Midoriya breathed. The walls were covered in old boards, giving the room a rustic feel.

Kirishima breezed by him and plopped onto one of the couches, sighing deeply. “Ah, it’s been too long.”

“When were you here last?” Midoriya asked.

“Two days ago,” Kirishima said. “Kaminari found it first, of course, so he told me and Sero, then Ashido because she beat him at arm wrestling, and Bakugou – I think Bakugou found it before all of us, honestly. Todoroki has totally been here before, too, the ice box in the mini fridge is always stocked – and maybe like, Tokoyami? Because that dude knows like, everything.”

Kirishima seemed to melt into the couch as he spoke, movements becoming more and more sluggish until he yawned. Midoriya took a step, hesitation pouring through his veins, because he didn’t want to intrude on Kirishima’s… on Kirishima.

Kirishima looked soft and pliable in a way Midoriya had never seen before, and the normally loud and expressive teen was… quiet, and tired, and yawning.

“Hey dude, wanna play like… video games or something?” Kirishima said.

“Maybe a movie,” Midoriya suggested, eyeing Kirishima’s drooping eyes as he finally made it to the couch and sat down gingerly.

“Dude let’s watch Pacific Rim,” Kirishima said. “You haven’t seen it, right?”

“I haven’t,” Midoriya said.

“Awesome.” Summoning energy from some deep energy source within him, Kirishima lurched from the couch and picked through a stack of movies next to the TV. While Kirishima was getting the movie ready, Midoriya glanced around the room.

Small post-its nailed – yes, nailed – to the wall littered the wood in pale yellow, pink, green, and the occasional green or orange pieces of paper. He read the nearest one to him: “Rule 31: if one of you little shits sticks ONE more piece of bubblegum to the ceiling you’re evicted”.

“Oh, yeah,” Kirishima said, noticing Midoriya’s gaze. “They added rules as time went on.”

Midoriya glanced at another one – a dark purple one with silver sharpie writing, sharp and jagged, with the words “Rule 12: NO SEX IN THIS ROOM YA NASTIES -from your neighborhood ace”.

Midoriya blinked, in surprise, shock, or embarrassment, or possibly a mixture of all three.

“I think the original three uh,” Kirishima cleared his throat. “Made a later member mad.”

“Oh my god,” Midoriya breathed, soft laughter falling from his lips.

Kirishima gazed at him for another second or two before flopping back onto the couch, pressing play. He was notably closer to Midoriya than when Midoriya had initially sat down, their arms almost (almost) brushing.

A few minutes in, Kirishima’s head dropped onto Midoriya’s shoulder.

By the fifteen minute mark, Kirishima was asleep.

Midoriya wasn’t sure how Kirishima managed to sleep through one of the most action-packed movies he’d ever seen, counting the All Might saga, without stirring once.

By the time the movie ended, Midoriya’s shoulder was asleep, but he didn’t dare move Kirishima – he looked softer, relaxed, while he slept, and Midoriya didn’t want to disrupt that.

However, after sitting in complete silence for a few minutes, TV black, Midoriya realized he’d have to move.

“Okay, Kiri,” Midoriya murmured mostly to himself, since Kirishima was sleeping. “Let’s get you back to your room.”

He propped Kirishima against the back of the couch and stood, cracking his back and rotating his shoulders, then leaned down and picked Kirishima up, throwing him over his shoulder. While the princess-hold had been great for dramatic effect and great because Midoriya got to see Kirishima’s expression, he wanted to have an open hand.

The halls were eerily quiet, as it was around three or four in the morning, but Midoriya’s stride was confident. He’d walked these halls at early times before.

Entering Kirishima’s room, Midoriya gently lay the teen on his obnoxiously colored sheets, pulling the comforter over his body and, unable to resist the temptation, gave him a soft kiss on the cheek.

He was almost out the door when a quiet, “Midoriya?” sounded from the bed.

He paused, door in hand, and tilted his head. “Yeah?”

“I really…” a yawn, then, “I really like you.”

Midoriya’s cheeks inflamed and he tensed, throat suddenly dry. He turned around completely, to craft a probably embarrassing babble of a response, but Kirishima was already sleeping again.

Midoriya shut the door as silently as he could, then sped-walked back to his room, having a mini-crisis.

He definitely wasn’t getting any more sleep tonight.

#YUH #still getting thru these i'm so happy #kirideku #kirishima eijirou #midoriya izuku #bnha #mrabbles

58 notes · View notes

alarriefantasy · 7 years

Photo

Weekly Fic Rec

1. maps can be poems when you're on your own by @suspendrs

Words: 18k

“Harry, this is Louis, the guy I was telling you about,” Liam says. “Lou, this is Harry, my roommate.”

Harry looks up and locks eyes with Louis, who is very clearly drunk. Louis just giggles in surprise and claps a hand over his own mouth, widening his eyes at Harry comically.

“Nice to meet you,” Harry croaks, watching as Louis tucks himself more firmly into Liam’s side.

Or, Harry falls in love with the guy his best friend is fooling around with.

2. A tune sung low and wistful by otfuckingp

Words: 6k

1000 Feelings For Which There Are No Names: 793.The hope that the cat will hold still at the vet.

It's not really as if Harry can be blamed for looking out for him, and it's not really as if Harry is harming anything by doing so. It's only a kitchen, perfectly innocent things happen in kitchens. It's not creepy, it's not. It's just, the man next door is absolutely beautiful. Harry has a vivid memory--and by memory, he means something which he dwells upon far more often than is necessary--of a late-night party spilling music and laughter across the lawn next door, a manic personality rippling through it all like quicksilver.

3. Take Me Back to Where We Started by @amories

Words: 27k

Harry and Louis haven't spoken since they broke up four years ago. As boarding school sweethearts they once spent every waking moment together, but now they can hardly stand to be in the same room. When their five year class reunion comes around, both boys decide against their better judgement to return and (hopefully) have a good time.

The only problem is, they're both still hopelessly in love.

Starring Harry as the petty ex, Louis as the new James Bond, Niall as a boy genius and fake boyfriend extraordinaire, and Liam and Zayn as two friends just trying to make it out of this weekend alive.

4. We'll Be Seamless by @dinosaursmate

Words: 52k

Green reblogged an old photo of himself. It was from back in October, a Halloween special. A pulse shot all the way through Louis because this photo was his absolute favourite, and it had taken the rest of the year for him to wean himself off of it.

Green was on his knees, arms stretched out in front of him with his fingertips digging into the surface of his bed. He was wearing a pair of cat ears on his head, his curls falling forward. His back was arched, and in the foreground of the picture, Green’s bum was high in the air, a long, black cat tail sitting neatly between his cheeks. --- Louis spends all his spare time scrolling arty nude blogs on Tumblr but amongst them all, Green is his favourite.

5. You'll Hear Me Calling for You by @pinky-heaven19

Words: 42k

“I don’t know, I don’t know you,” Harry said with a shrug, knowing his replies were dumb but not able to think of anything better to say. “You don’t know me either, so I don’t know why you’re acting like this,” he said, slouching on his seat.

“Oh, but I do know you,” Louis replied, raising his eyebrows in a gesture of disdain.

His attitude made Harry stare at him in confusion. Had they met before and he didn’t remember? Was that why Louis was mad?

“You do?”

“I know the likes of you,” Louis said with a shrug of his shoulder.

“The likes of me? Excuse me?” Harry was offended and confused.

“Alpha males who enter cock first in any room and think people should bow to them or some shit like that,” Louis answered bitterly.

OR the one where Harry is an Alpha and Louis has a problem with it - until he doesn't.

#larry fic rec #larry fics #larry stylinson #larries #lourry fics

67 notes · View notes

liv-laugh-die · 3 years

Text

–TAG GUIDE–

here's the tag guide to navigate through my types of posts or reblogs–enjoy the chaos loves ! <3

–[general tags !]

↳ liv talks to herself <3 - posts where im just rambling about something

↳ livs recs <3 - aren't limited to fics, includes hcs, drabbles, timestamps, everything in between literally just stuff i recommend and need you to read for you to live a good life/hj

↳ liv-laugh oh look im trash <3 - lol i have too much fun with my username- anyways this tag is just for stuff about me

↳ trashy artwork from your not local not artist haikyuu stan <3 - this one's a long one but it's just reserved for my artwork that sucks <3 but i love it

↳ livs box of keepsakes <3 - this is mostly saved for myself but if you'd like to scroll through it, it's just other people's events that I participated in and what i received back (usually either matchups or drabbles, etc.)

↳ livs bulletin board <3 - all the important posts! (announcements, navi, byf, dni, etc.)

↳ liv watches bsd <3 - all the posts where i ramble about bungo stray dogs

↳ liv watches sk8 <3 - all the posts where i ramble about sk8

↳ liv watches bnha <3 - all the posts where i ramble about my hero academia

↳ liv watches haikyuu! <3 - all the posts where i ramble about haikyuu!

–[interaction tags !]

↳ liv chats <3 - i save this tag for when I'm interacting with people so when I'm answering asks or talking with people through reblogs

↳ mutuals <3 - find any conversations involving my mutuals under this tag

↳ sender: [username & name] ! <3 - (ex: sender: liv-laugh-die / liv ! <3) whoever you are, search your username to find all our conversations under this tag (for those of you who don't have an alias on your blog, i just put your username. ex: sender: liv-laugh-die ! <3)

↳ sender: anon ! <3 - unnamed anon interactions go here

↳ sender: [emoji/character] anon ! <3 - for when anons decide they want to be stuck with me >:)))/lh (i don't have any anons rn but i'm just prepping in advance)

↳ ! breaking news: people like my art for some reason ! <3 - ...do i really need to explain this one (its just interactions where people actually liked my art)

↳ livs tag game shenanigans <3 - reserved for tag games (pls tag me in stuff i love it)

#livs bulletin board <3 #feel free to ignore this im just organizing stuff :)

0 notes

1ooo-w0rds · 7 years

Text

Layers of Drew - Lacy

FF.NET LINK

Hey cutie. - E Lacy read over the text message again, unable to stop the smile from spreading on her lips. Her index finger twirled a curl of her blond hair, wondering how exactly to reply. Someone plopped beside Lacy, intentionally bumping their shoulder with hers. “Ooh, what are you grinning about?” Julie teased as she pinched Lacy’s side. Julie’s brown eyes scanned the text when Lacy tilted her phone towards her. “E? Who’s E?”

“I’m hoping…” Lacy trailed off as she looked across the rec room. Brooklyn Academy of the Gifted treated their students well. Aside from furnished dorms, they had a full staff kitchen, various art and music practice rooms and well-equipped recreational room. It had large leather couches, a projector for movies and a pool table. Three boys hanged around the table, laughing as they played with the balls. She quickly typed out a message and watched. Who’s this?

“Eric?” Julie whispered as they both watched a the blond of the group pat his pocket like he felt the vibration from Lacy’s text. Her eyes widen as she clenched Lacy’s arm. “Eric Johnson, president of the hottie club?” Lacy shushed her friend but bit her lower lip as Eric slid his phone out of his pocket. “You are having a fantastic week.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Lacy replied as she scrolled through her social media but still keeping tabs on the boys. Ryan, a handsome African-American boy, half leaned on a bar stool as he passively watched his friends and read at the same time. Beside him, Sam impatiently tapped his foot waiting for his turn as he watched Eric circle the table. They nagged Eric ruthlessly but the blond was unfazed, lining up his shots. He bended down, almost parallel to the table with the cue stick held easily in his long arms. Like he could feel Lacy’s gaze, his hazel eyes lifted up to meet hers. A corner of his lips curled up before he winked and hit the cue ball with a sharp crack. Ryan and Sam both groaned as the solid ball landed into the pocket.

“You're done admiring the view?” Julie teased as Lacy flushed, dragging her eyes away from the boys. It’s not like the other girls weren’t watching them either. “And you know exactly what I mean.” She held up one of her long piano player fingers. “Ryan, Mr. Tall, dark and brooding, held a whole conversation with you in chemistry. He doesn’t talk. Period.” Lacy shrugged her shoulders, they were partners for an experiment. They had to communicate.

“Sam, in his lovable clumsy fashion, nearly knocked you down in the lunch line today but did a very suave move and caught you, avoiding a disaster.” Lacy rubbed her shoulder, remembering the feel of his strong arm around her. It wasn’t too bad. “And now, Eric is texting you.” Julie squinted at Lacy. “Did you get your braces off?”

Lacy quickly covered her mouth and glared at Julie who laughed in response. “Maybe.” She whispered before brushing a strand of her hair out of her forehead. Maybe my powers are just acting up. She wondered, touching the bead bracelet she wore. Lacy tries her hardest to taper off her demigod powers especially in the mortal world. “Maybe it’s just a coincidence.” Julie gave Lacy either a concern or confused look before pulling out her laptop. Lacy’s phone vibrated and the girl smiled as she recognize the sender. Before she could read it, someone swiped the phone out of her hand. “Hey!” Lacy turned around on the couch before her voice trailed off. “Drew…”

The tall Asian girl stood there in sinfully short black shorts and a white v-neck t-shirt. Her dark hair dripped from her shower as she toweled it off casually with one hand. Her brown eyes scanned the text message with an unreadable expression. Lacy physically shrunk back when she saw Drew. “Hmm, interesting.” Drew murmured as she looked over to the boys before tossing Lacy’s phone back. “That one is a little out of your league.”

Lacy lowered her gaze, clenching her fingers. “Hey Tanaka,” Julie shouted as she sat up, quickly rushing in. “It’s not like she’s chasing him. All those boys noticed Lacy. You’re not the only pretty girl the hottie club taken an interest in.” Drew’s movements slowed as she gather her hair over one shoulder, drying the ends. She processed Julie’s words silently, unfazed. “Not everyone wants you, Drew.”

A dark smile spread across Drew’s lips. “Oh, you want to bet?” Drew said as she draped her towel over a chair. Her gaze slowly slid over to the boys as she plucked a pen from the table and artfully twisted her long hair into a bun. Lacy, and nearly everyone in the room, turned as Drew confidently strolled over to the boys. Even Ryan lifted his gaze from his book as Drew passed by. Daughter of Aphrodite for sure. Eric paused mid-shot as he noticed Drew beside him. “Hey.”

“Bombshell Tanaka,” Eric addressed as he stood up, not moving away from Drew. She invaded his space, taking the first step. Drew’s well manicured fingers tapped the table, inches away from his hand. Lacy watched in dread as her older sister worked her magic. “Any reason why you’ve graced us with your presence?” Deliberately, Drew reached up, wrapped her hand firmly around his cue stick. Eric’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he held her gaze.

“Wanna give me a lesson?” She asked in a sultry voice, possibly hinting towards more. A smirk curled around Eric’s lips as he took a step closer. Unable to watch, Lacy grabbed her things and rushed out of the room.

###

Lacy didn’t speak to Drew for a week. It wasn’t difficult. The two girls rarely shared any classes. They were in two different divisions of BAG’s art program. Lacy threw herself into her art, spending hours with her canvas and paints. She’s known for her bright colors and vibrant pieces that jumped off the pages. Lately Lacy picked up charcoal. The rough feel of the medium in her fingers, staining them for hours. The contrast of the ugly black against the pure white pages before something emerged from the paper. Art is about discovery for Lacy. She never knew what would be created until the very end.

“Lace,” Julie started as she set her breakfast beside the sketching girl. Lacy hummed as she moved her pencil across her pad, shading the wings of a crow taking off. “Please, we’re at breakfast. Can you eat?” Lacy nodded her head as she added the finishing touches before pulling away. The bottom of her hand marked with gray from the pencil and black from the charcoal she must have missed. “Charcoal? You know you only use that when you’re frustrated.”

“I…” Lacy tried to deny it but lowered her gaze, accepting the napkin Julie passed as she wiped her hands. “I don’t want to paint when I’m angry.”

“It’s Drew, isn’t it?” Julie asked as she looked over. Drew sat alone beside the window in her dancing leggings, tank top and loose light purple hoodie. Her dark hair braided over her shoulder as she stirred her coffee. The latest Vogue magazine held in her hand as she read an article. Lacy shrugged her shoulders.

Like a firework, Drew effortlessly drew all the boys attention away from Lacy. She played many parts with all the guys. With Ryan, Drew was the scholar, talking about classics books and movies. With Sam, she was the cheerleader, attending sports events she normally wouldn’t. All the students noticed as Drew got closer to the boys. Lacy stirred her cereal, trying to process her own feelings.

“I think I know Drew.” Lacy answered carefully, selecting her words. “She’s a dancer. The way she stands. The words she say. Every little movement. It’s deliberate. It’s an action to pull you in, drawing your eyes towards her. She won’t hesitate to give her opinion. Pushy in a way that feels almost disrespectful. She takes and takes and takes and then smiles when you have nothing else to give.”

“That’s - “

“TANAKA!” Lacy and Julie jumped at the booming voice, spinning in their plastic chairs. Eric stomped through the cafeteria, hazel eyes glaring at the Japanese girl. Drew idly sipped her coffee, unbothered as the tall boy approached her. Eric slapped his hand down on her magazine, knocking it out of her hand. The utensils raddled at the violent impact. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Drew sighed, placing her hands daintily in her lap, and looked up. “I believe I was reading, Johnson. We’re not on first name basis anymore? Such a shame.” Eric growled and grabbed Drew’s hand, physically dragging her out of her seat. Lacy gasped as she stood up. The two teens glared at each other. Drew’s fingers curled into a fist. “Let go.” She ordered in a calm tone. Maybe it was the anger or fury, but Eric’s grip tightened around Drew’s wrist, not feeling the charmspeak.

“What do you think you’re doing, bitch?” Eric hissed, inches away from Drew’s face. With her free hand, Drew reached into the pocket of her hoodie, pulling out a sleek smartphone. Eric noticed the motion. His grip loosened as he saw the device.

“Good boy,” Drew taunted as she pulled her arm out of his slack grip. “And watch your language. That’s now how you address a lady. Wouldn’t want the college board to know about your little game?” Lacy pushed herself through the crowd of students. Drew hid a smile behind her phone as she stared Eric down. “Thanks for the extra pic. Not what I expected but no one has to know. It’ll be our little secret.” Drew looked over Eric’s shoulder, noticing Lacy. She placed a well manicured hand on his shoulder and said in his ear. “Know your place and don’t mess with my girls.”

###

News travel fast in a small school. Lacy heard it all throughout the day. Eric insulted Drew. Drew broke up with Eric. Drew cheated on Eric with one of the boys. There were so many theories but when anyone tried to ask Eric, the boy shut down, keeping his mouth closed. No one dared to approach Drew about it. Well, almost no one.

Lacy opened the door that lead to the halls of the dance studios. It was eerily quiet because of the soundproof walls. Unlike the art hallway, the walls were stark white with bulletin boards of announcements and posters of competitions. Thin windows of the doors revealed the occupants. A pair of ballroom dancers going through familiar steps. A dance group practicing new choreography. Lacy paused when she recognized the slender figure with her arms held up like she was facing a partner.

Drew’s expression was so serious Lacy almost didn’t recognize her sister. Her hair pulled back tightly in a high ponytail. She moved fluently taking long confident steps. She turned and spun with grace, looking nearly effortlessly. Her back and arms created elegant lines. Drew stopped suddenly and turned towards the door. Lacy nearly jumped back in shock. Drew’s expression softened and she waved her sister in.

“You’re acknowledging my presence?” Drew asked as she walked over to her bag, fishing out a towel. Lacy opened her mouth to deny it but stopped. Three distinct bruises lined Drew’s wrist. The exact spot Eric grabbed her. “Proof.” Drew started, pulling Lacy’s gaze away. “That I stood up to the big bad Eric.”

“What was that about?” Lacy asked, squeezing her messenger bag strap. Drew turned away. “No, you don’t get to say nothing.” Her voice quivered but she held her ground. Drew looked at Lacy with a mixed expression. “I’m not a child, Drew. You can’t always protect me.”

“I can try.” Drew whispered so softly Lacy almost missed it. Drew reached into her bag and pulled out her phone. “The boys had a bet going on. A little fun game to keep the school year interesting. I’ve heard rumors about it from the upperclassmen. Which one can sleep with the girl the fastest.” Drew held her phone out, unlocked with a screenshot of text messages. Lacy took it as she set her bags down beside Drew’s. “I charmspoke Sam into sending me this as evidence. Eric is the clear ring leader. You were next target.”

“That’s…” Lacy breathed as she read the messages. Little quiet. - R The quiet ones are always a little wild. - E Lacy’s hands shook as she read more and more. Bile bubbled in her throat, disgusted with these boys. She could feel Drew’s eyes on her face. Lacy closed her eyes as she handed the device back. “That’s why you flirted with the guys.”

“I’m a good distraction.” Drew replied as she tossed the phone into her bag. Lacy leaned against the wall before sliding down to the floor, unable to stand. She felt manipulated like a toy for those boys. Tears welled at the corner of her eyes. “I have ammo on those boys now. They don’t call me Bombshell Tanaka for no reason.” Lacy chuckled as she rubbed her eyes. Drew crouched down and gently brushed a stray out of her face. “I’m sorry, Lace.”

“At least you’re using your mean girl power for good rather than evil.” Lacy commented as she gave Drew a half-smile. Drew groaned, rolling her eyes, as she sat down.

“Don’t tell Piper. She’s already a pain to deal with.” Lacy and Drew laughed, settling in a comfortable quiet. Drew went through her stretches as Lacy watched. “I know,” Drew said after a moment. Lacy tilted her head, confused as Drew leaned forward. “You don’t need protection but…”

“You’re here.” Lacy caught up, finishing her sister’s sentence. Drew turned her head and their eyes meet, both thinking about their big sister who wasn’t here. “And…” Lacy continued, “you will do everything in your power to protect me. You’re a good big sister.” Drew nodded her head with a ghost of a smile against her lips as she returned to her leg stretches. “You’re just crap at showing it.”

“Hey…” Drew warned with a laugh. Lacy giggled as Drew reached out and patted her leg. “You’re not a bad little sister either.”

#drew tanaka #lacy #fanfic #mine #layers of drew #who should i do next #gonna do connor one day #need to reference who drew built her life around #sigh #plot holes

7 notes · View notes

stonewall7125 · 4 years

Text

Online Dating WTF

Not shocking I've tried the online dating thing because I'm young and busy and don't want to date people from work or my friend circle. Here is where I'm thinking of compiling some of the stories of these attempts at dating and all the fun antics and awkwardness that comes along with them. These are the stories that I remember more details from or went on multiple dates. I've had so many first dates that pan out to nothing that aren't worth mentioning. I will mention that there are so many military guys, ex-military guys, cops, shirtless bathroom pictures, and guys who take pictures with fish on dating apps. It honestly could be turned into a drinking game. And I would get absolutely plastered. Looking at those types of dates I've gathered some interesting thoughts: a lot of guys don't like a headstrong female who knows what she wants, a lot of guys say they're looking for a relationship to attempt to get in your pants, and a lot of guys don't like girls who are more intelligent, more athletic, or more anything than them. My advice? Don't settle for any of those guys. One of my first dates I remember was with a guy named John (pretty sure he was holding a fish in a picture so one drink). We ended up going paddle boarding and then went to HuHot after. When we got to the lake we had to inflate the paddle board and couldn't find the right pump connection to actually inflate the board. So we were losing daylight it was cooling off and we couldn't get this stupid board inflated enough. Finally, we get it to the point that it's inflated enough to actually use it, end up having a fun coldish time on the lake and get to know each other a little better. HuHot was fun after nothing specific to report. This sounds extremely dumb but I didn't like his laugh or the volume of his voice. It was all one volume. No real inflection on anything which is something I would never know by just chatting with him online. Then he ended up traveling for work and I was busy so we didn't see each other for a couple weeks and he had the nerve to tell me he "didn't feel the connection anymore." Which I didn't really understand because we hadn't seen each other in a while so yea it wouldn't feel quite the same as the excitement of the first date. After that about a week later he became Facebook official with another girl and I unfriended him immediately because I wish him the best but I don't need to watch it happen. Another guy I ended up meeting in the fall we can call him Will. We both have busy schedules (he's a cop and ex-military so that would be two drinks) and eventually met up at a brewery. He lives in Lakewood and I live in Littleton area which are both suburbs of Denver on the west side of the town. The place he ended up picking was in Morrison and the way Google Maps took me was on this sketchy road that didn't have street lights and only a couple buildings were open around the brewery. So naturally I felt just so safe going to meet a person from the internet driving on a non well lit road into an area I had never been before. Great fucking idea. He works in law enforcement so we ended up having quite a bit to talk about and got along really well. Towards the end of the night he just up and said, "Yup come on, we're going back to my place." We went back to his place and ended up scrolling through movies and settled on a movie about Jeffery Dahmer. So here we are almost complete strangers met at a bar and got together to watch stuff about a notorious serial killer. I really have terrible ideas. We end up hooking up that night and it was pretty amazing. We have hooked up a few times since then, but any time I try to bring up actual dating with Will his go to response is, "I dunno I'm just a disaster." So I guess I can just pick real winners. Let me now introduce to you probably the embodiment of the biggest douche bag I have ever met in my entire life. He doesn't even get a name he's that bad. Most of my friend's and cousin called him Trust Fund Guy (and of course he had a shirtless bathroom picture, but I needed way more than one drink to handle him). So if that gives you an initial first impression of him it would be pretty accurate. He's tall and has a very nice body, but not the cutest face and a speech impediment that was slightly difficult to overlook. I'm not entirely sure where to start with this one because there are just so many ridiculous hypocritical comments that this guy made. And still to this day doesn't see his hypocrisy and can't understand just how judgmental and thick headed this guy turned out to be. Everything started with him bragging about Montana and how great Montana is and Montana this and Montana that. And said how he moved to Denver to save money to move back to Montana. Somehow he's going to save money by living in a more expensive state. Not sure how that's going to work. But he constantly bashed Colorado and talked about how much better Montana is and then he wondered why people weren't just overly nice to him. If I came into your home state and just talked absolute shit about it and how I wanted to move away, I don't think anyone would be very receptive of me. And somehow he decided to just blame the people of Colorado. Now let's just get to the dating. We went to trivia on our first date which was incredibly fun because I geek out hard on trivia. He ended up being pretty intelligent as well which was nice but it was that first date get to know each other not really get deep into things quite yet. However, from that night I learned he has a massive ego about his basketball playing and continually tried to name drop people and I was very unimpressed. Half because I didn't know anyone he was name dropping, and even if I did it was fun pretending I didn't know to see him get frustrated that his plan wasn't working. I also learned he has multiple properties because he invested in them with his trust fund. So not only did I find out he has a trust fund, but now I found out he has investments in properties in both Montana and Hawaii. So more pieces of his background personality finally started to fall into place. We also took his truck to trivia which if you have ever seen those massive jacked up trucks that are 100% unnecessary and loud and ridiculous. Multiply that shit by 10. That is his truck. It is so big and obnoxious he literally got into an accident because while he was turning he hit a parked car with his tire because his truck is so wide and stupid. He claims that in Montana he "needed" this truck and I have seen a lot of work get done with a lot less. I digress. He became very sweet at the end of the night and said he really liked me and wanted to see me again so I agreed to a second date because that side of him seemed incredibly genuine. Oh boy was that a mistake. When we were planning the date I offered to cook for us one night because I had a lot of food at home. He invited me to watch him play. I ended up going to watch him play basketball, mostly hoping he could actually put his money where his mouth is. He wanted to get there so early that no one else was even in the gym let alone warming up and getting ready to play. It was a rec league and he wanted to warm up like it actually mattered. His teammates eventually showed up and they started playing and as much as he talked about how incredible he is, he made some of his shots, no where near what he would tell you. But sure as hell he rolled his eyes every single time one of his teammates wouldn't make their shots. And then he would act as though everyone around him was nothing compared to himself. Even though he wasn't doing well. Afterwards, I thought we were going to grab food on the way back to my house, but he thought because I offered to cook I was going to cook for the two of us after his game. It was already 8pm at this point, and he made it a point to remind me that he has to be up early for work. He also made it a point to remind me that he doesn't like going out to eat when I brought up the idea of picking something up on the way back to my house. So now we have a douche who isn't a god like he thinks he is, he blamed all of his teammates for not doing well, he also said he wasn't playing the position he normally does as another excuse, he's expecting me to make dinner way too late at night, and reminded me that he has to be up early. So I decide to chop some vegetables and roast a chicken that ended up taking 55min. Oh well. That's all I had. At this point he's continuing to blame his teammates for the loss, has started name dropping again, and is the slowest eater I have ever met in my life. So he complained about having to be up early and then takes for fucking ever to actually eat. Needless to say, things did not pan out between us. Overall, I'm still going on dates with people because I think meeting people and having these experiences are more entertaining than just sitting at home by myself. Even if I don't go on dates with people I will still take myself out, buy myself flowers, and get myself a gift almost every month. I'm trying to be more picky in the people I choose to date, and I will probably wait until I have a few more stories saved up for the next dating post because for every interesting one there are so many ridiculously boring ones that are not worth telling. If I had any advice for anyone out there, it would be to be picky because your happiness is more important than settling. Also, take yourself out to get to know what you like and to figure out what expectations you have for someone else. And what better way to do that than to do it yourself? Online dating has been such an interesting experience for me because I see everything from the divorcee looking for wife #3, to the couple that wants a "fun third," to guys just wanting to hookup, and guys that actually seem bearable. It's an entire ocean of nonsense that I will continue to enjoy wading through. Might as well have fun right?

0 notes