twist-it-a-bit

the signs as ab/ap lyrics

aries~

i’m just a problem that doesn’t want to be solved
so could you please hold your applause
take this sideshow and all its freaks
and turn it into the silver screen dream

gemini~

sometimes the only pay-off for having any faith
is when it’s tested again and again everyday

taurus~

and I’m trying to find my peace of mind
behind these two white highway lines
when the city goes silent
the ringing in my ears gets violent

leo~

you were the song stuck in my head
every song that I’ve ever loved
played again and again and again

cancer~

you are my favorite “what if”
you are my best “I’ll never know”

libra~

and I still feel that rush in my veins.
it twists my head just a bit to think.
all those people in those old photographs I’ve seen are dead

virgo~

i wish I dreamt in the shape of your mouth
but it’s your thread count I really care about

scorpio~

too many war wounds and not enough wars
too few rounds in the ring and not enough settled scores
too many sharks, not enough blood in the waves

capricorn~

and I just need enough of you to dull the pain
just to get me through the night ‘til we’re twins again
'till we’re stripped down to our skeletons again
'till we’re saints just swimming in our sins again

sagittarius~

the kids are all wrong
the story’s all off
heavy metal broke my heart

aquarius~

and I slept in last night’s clothes and tomorrow’s dreams
but they’re not quite what they seem

pisces~

and with the black banners raised
as the crooked smiles fade.
former heroes who quit too late.
who just wanna fill up the trophy case again.


anonymous asked:

what do you think about the amount of hate sophie gets?

Here’s what I think, people will always be jealous of Sophie. She experienced something that no other fan has, she went to fucking Taylor Swift’s house and got to spend soooo much one-on-one time with her, people are naturally going to be jealous. Most people handle this jealousy by still being happy for Sophie and leaving her be. However, there are the unfortunate few that feel the need to weed out every single bit of negativity in her life, twist it make her look worse, and put it on show in hope that others will dislike her too. She would literally not get any of this hate if she hadn’t met Taylor. This is really heart breaking and, coming from someone who knows Sophie very well, I can’t even put into words how sweet/kind-hearted/down to earth she is. I just wish some people could find ways to be happier for others instead of always being so negative and focusing on things that don’t really matter.

anonymous asked:

what of the few cis folks who actually believe in equal rights and support non binary people?

They have mediocre looks based on the fact that their heart is sort of ok average looking and only filled with a little bit of twisted evil :)

They also have a soul but it is a very faint soul and doesn’t provide much

Truth is,
The lies that you told,
Only made me stronger

Truth is,
Every time you smiled at me,
My heart melted

But I still knew

Truth is,
The words that slipped from your mouth,
Were twisted bits of reality

Truth is,
Your eyes gazing into mine,
Made me wonder why

You were so wrong for me

Truth is,
The whispers in my ear,
Made me cry in bed at night

Truth is,
I knew you better,
Than I knew myself

Yet I wondered what the truth was

—  a.k.
The Best

Lay scenario with a bit of a twist. Basically inspired by the picture below! In this fic they have nothing to do with exo, though there is a few cameo’s for some members ;) I’m sorry if there are any errors. I’ll go through it again eventually but I’ve legit been up for 26 hours so yeaaaaaaaaaaaaah. Feedback is awesome!! Thanks everyone for reading, enjoy! XX


               Zhang Yixing; a man most debonair and compassionate to boot. Handsome and suave, he could make any woman swoon, perhaps without even meaning to. The physique of this man even caused men whom were straight as a ruler to take a second look and admire him. Never rude, he always strived to make everyone smile, his innocence only attributing to this. He was no idiot, though at times you could forget that had the mind of a genius; precise and calculating. Though he had made billions, he could be confused by the slightest detail. His doe eyes would widen guilelessly and cloud over with confusion; only to shape into heart-warming crescent moons when the answer was presented to him. Yet this man who had just yesterday poured juice into his breakfast by mistake, who had brought a box of kittens into the office that he’d found on the street, who sometimes didn’t even know how to take a social cue had somehow managed to build an empire which generated billions of dollars. Honest to a fault, though shrouded in mystery, Yixing had built his company out of nothing. No one knew where he from or how he came to be the powerful man he is now; they only knew that he was a force to be reckoned with. He had the face of a model, the heart of a saint, and the business sense to match that of the world’s finest moguls.  He strove to be the best and he was; the best looking, the best giver, the best entrepreneur. Simply, the best; and he was yours.

               When the chance to intern at the Zhang Yixing’s, or Lay as he was widely known, had cropped up, you immediately jumped at the chance. Stories were all you had heard about the man, piquing your curiosity from day one, and you were determined to see if there was any smoke to the fire. People talked; they said he was only a front for the company, that he was a mindless airhead who got lucky, but also that he was dangerous. Dangerous? You had thought upon seeing him for the first time, doodling on a piece of paper in the middle of a company meeting. There’s no way. He was the perfect boss, concerned with everyone’s affairs and always thoughtful. You needed a day off? No problem. You messed up on the report? Don’t sweat it! It was your birthday? Well, here’s a three tier cake to celebrate and a piece of jewelry just because. No one hated Lay, well except for his competitors, that is. You could still remember the first time his eyes caught yours; he had glanced up when you placed his coffee in front of him, beginning to say thank you but trailing off as his orbs raked up your body. He had looked at you dazed for a moment and then—then he smiled. Everything had started from there.

               Months passed as you ran various errands as a dutiful intern, stealing a glance at your boss whenever you had the chance, to find that he was doing the same. You watched as he made deals, spoke about the future, and spilled coffee down his shirt for the fiftieth time. From afar, you observed as he brushed off girls, never giving them the time of day but never letting them know he was blowing them off, letting sweetness be his ally. Admiring him from afar, you never got close enough to have a real conversation, though your heart throbbed and scratched at your ribcage whenever you saw the familiar slant of his shoulders arriving through the office doors, until a very special Tuesday afternoon when that all changed.

               He had been in the break room, which was rare as he usually took meals in his office so as to not be disturbed. A missing file had brought him to the room, searching for an employee when he was stopped by a co-worker, female at that. Well-endowed with terrible timing and a horrid lack of tact, you stumbled across the pair, just as she began to announce her undying love for the man. You wouldn’t have lingered if it weren’t for the way she refused to take no for an answer, pulling out every excuse in the book. Eventually though, he succeeded in his rejection.

               “I feel terrible, Sooyoung, I would love to go out with you but unfortunately, I have someone who is very ill in my life right now who needs all my attention and care.” He had said, looking as sincere as ever. “Don’t get me wrong though, you are beautiful and a lovely person. One day— perhaps one day when I’m not burdened by this, I’ll take you up on that offer, okay?”

               “Ah, I’m so sorry, Mr.Zhang. I didn’t realize.” She stared up at him with glistening eyes and you couldn’t help but think, she seriously believes this? “You’re such a kind man.”

               “Thank you,” his head dipped at the compliment, a warm smile gracing his lips. While you stood there fish eyed, seeming unnoticed by the two.

               When the woman finally gave a short nod and walked off with just the right amount of torment and hope, you muttered under your breath, “Wow.”

              Yixings head snapped to the side, still maintaining his façade, though upon seeing who was standing before him he relaxed, slumping his shoulders and breathing out a sigh of relief. “You saw all that?”

               “I gotta say, boss. You’re good.” You commented, crossing your arms and leaning against the counter of the mini kitchenette.

              “Thanks, but it’s not something I enjoy doing.” He said wistfully, staring off in the direction Sooyoung had went.

               The room grew quiet for a moment as his eyes turned to you, catching you in a game of staring when finally, curiosity had gotten the better of you and you blurted, “So, who’s ill?”

               You remember the way he had looked at you, started by your question, but impressed that you were brave enough to call him on his bullshit. For a brief moment, the honourable air that always seemed to follow him around faltered and his lips dropped into a smirk. Scratching the back of his neck, he answered honestly, “My cat.”

               The encounter had broken the ice between the two of you and left both of you open to one another. Soon enough you found yourself lingering in his office after delivering a coffee, having hushed conversations behind people’s backs and sharing simple touches. Tension seemed to build between you like a bubble, bound to pop. When it finally burst, there was no sweet first date or holding hands. There was only sex; sinful, wonderful, passionate sex. When people began to wonder why you were being called into his office so much, you knew you had to be more discrete. In time, there was almost no room in the building in the room which had been left untouched by the two of you. You could just imagine the other employee’s faces if they ever found out and admittedly, you took pleasure in knowing that the table they sat at had been close to breaking only one day before from your exertions. However, as time passed, you began to crave more and Yixing was happy to deliver. The time you spent together after pleasuring one another grew longer and longer. Lay was an excellent listener, but was an expert at diverting the conversation from him. Perhaps he liked being mysterious, or maybe he didn’t think that his life was all that interesting; you weren’t sure. What you did know of him was very little, and when he did choose to share a piece of information, you treasured it, even if it was only a story from his childhood. You fell for the man whole heartedly, which didn’t come as a surprise to you; was it possible not to?

               Today was no different than any other. You zoomed around the office, doing everyone’s petty tasks and receiving no thanks for it. Though, this didn’t bother you. They treated you well enough and you could always look forward to Yixing giving you a “present” of sorts if he saw you working hard enough. Speaking of, you heard his sultry voice call out to you from the side of the main work room, which was really a giant office space of cubicles. Lifting your head from the desk you had just placed some papers on, your heart warmed when you saw his soft expression beckoning you over as he headed to the conference room. Your heart thrummed in your chest as you shuffled toward him, wondering what corner of the building he would take you to this time. Despite the anticipation you felt, your expression remained skillfully bored for others to see.

               “Yes, boss?” You asked when you reached him.

               “Can you bring me a water?” The anticipation in you dropped like a dead weight; that was not exactly what you had been expecting. “In the conference room, please?”

              Nodding, you mumbled, “You called me over to actually work?”

               His lips twitched, daring to expose your act as he looked around him. Checking for people watching, he leaned in close to your ear to whisper, “Don’t be such a whiner.” You yelped quietly as his hand tapped against you bottom in a light slap, chuckling as he walked away and leaving you a flustered mess as you stared after him.

               “Y/N!” Yixing had long since disappeared from the room when you heard someone call out your name.

               “Yes!” Turning on your heel, you had expected to see a co-worker, probably asking you to do something else, only to see your best friend standing before you.



               “Baekhyun!” You squealed as the man beside you snatched a piece of pork off of your plate.

               “What?” He grinned with overstuffed cheeks. “It’s not my fault you eat so slowly.”

               “More like you eat abnormally fast.” Squinting your eyes at him, you motioned to his plate and carried on, “We just sat down and you’re already finished and I’m the weird one? I don’t think so.”

               “Yeah, yeah. Just be quiet and eat.” He chuckled beside you. Deeming yourself the winner, you beamed at him before resuming digging in to your food. “So, still screwing your boss?”

               Choking on your food at his frankness, you slammed your fist against your chest in an attempt to dislodge a piece of meat, sending Baekhyun in hysterics. Frantically, you gulped down a few mouthfuls of water before punching your best friend on the arm, enjoying the way that he flinched while your cheeks became painted by a light blush. “Yah! Will you shut up?!”

               “So, I’ll take that as a yes then.” There wasn’t much that Baekhyun didn’t know about your life and he wasn’t afraid to ask you anything. After all, he was your best friend; had been for years. So the moment this thing between you and Yixing had started, you immediately went to Baekhyun. The nitty gritty details were still a secret, though knowing Baekhyun, they wouldn’t be for long. Holding true to your thoughts, he dug for more information. “Did you guys do it in here yet?” To that, you chose not to reply, though your silence itself was all the answer he needed as he snickered and exclaimed, “So you did!”

               “Seriously, Baek.” You whimpered, holding your hands in your hair. “Do you have to be so loud?”

               “Y/N.” He scoffed, “We are literally the only two people in this break room.”

               Looking up at your surroundings, you found that he was correct. However, you still remained wary, unable to shake the feeling that you were being watched. “I guess so…”

               “Did you confess yet?”

               “Not yet…” You trailed off, thinking of all the ways Lay had rejected the girls before you. “It’s complicated.”

               “Why?” Baekhyun probed you with a tinge of annoyance in his voice; undoubtedly from the numerous times you had had this discussion before. “Isn’t it just you making it difficult?”

               “I don’t know, I mean I have never ever seen or heard of him saying yes to anyone when they confess. What if he just doesn’t want me that way? We never actually talked about what our relationship is so I don’t really know if I’m more than just a toy to him…”

               “Y/N. You guys have been hooking up for three months. I’m sure you’re not just some sex toy to him. Trust me, hook ups don’t last that long.” Baekhyun said earnestly, trying to build up the courage he knew you had. “Just confess, okay? I swear that if it goes wrong I will take all the blame for pushing you.”

               You chuckled at his promise but held your pinky out to him. As soon as he looked down at your out stretched finger wriggling before him, a bright smile came across his face and he hooked his own pinky with yours. “Thanks Baekhyun.”

               “It’s what I do.” He shrugged making you giggle, when you heard the familiar tune of his ring tone sounding from his pocket. Fumbling around with his jacket, he pulled out his cell phone and glanced at the screen before shooting you an apologetic look. “It’s my co-worker.”

               “That’s okay.” Standing up from your seats, Baekhyun opened his arms to you and you leaned into his embrace.

               “Good luck with your boss.” He squeezed you tightly in one arm and you enfolded your arms around his torso before detaching. Shuffling out of the room, Baekhyun gave you a brisk wave and his signature rectangle grin. Soon enough, the only trace left behind by him was an empty microwavable container and the sound of his voice fading out as he trailed down the hallway. “Hello? Yes, I’ll be there as soon as I can…”

               Left to your own devices, you sat back down at the table and began picking at the food you had left. Baekhyuns voice echoed in your mind, drowning out most other thoughts. What he had said was undeniably true. You had never heard of hook ups lasting this long, at least not without coming to a horrible end. But that’s what you were afraid of. It was Yixing. The fact that your sex friend was Lay was mind boggling in the first place and now that you had gotten to know him on somewhat of a deeper level, it was absolutely astounding to you. He had turned out to be so much more than what he seemed and you had barely scratched the surface of who he was. But would telling him how you felt shatter it all? You thought so, but you also knew that this wouldn’t last much longer, at least not with the way your feelings seem to multiply with every touch and word he graced you with. It would have to be dealt with sooner rather than later.

               “Y/N? Did you hear me?”

               Snapped out of your ruminations, you flicked your head to the door way, realizing that a man who goes by Junho was attempting to speak with you. Shaking your head, you apologized saying, “Sorry, what did you say?”

               “I said that Mr. Zhang wants to see you in his office.” He replied curtly, seemingly annoyed at having to repeat himself.

               “Oh,” you replied, looking up at the clock that was fixed on the plain white wall. Perplexed as to why he would be asking for you when he was meant to be in a meeting right now, you questioned Junho. “Did he mention what for?”

               “No clue,” Junho said, growing more agitated with you. “I’d hurry if I were you. He can’t wait around.”

               “Right. Thank you.” The words rolled off your tongue politely but you struggled not to bite back at the man. You weren’t an idiot, so why treat you as such. But again, you were an intern and that means most stress related anger gets pushed on to you so you dealt with it by staying silent and letting it run its course. Grumbling under his breath, he pivoted on his heel and left you to follow his orders. Quickly picking up the garbage from your lunch, you raced out of the room, butterflies running wild in your stomach as they always seemed to do when you were about to see Yixing. Thoughts jumped around in your head as your heels tapped against the floor. It was odd for him to call you right now, so you weren’t sure what it was for. Surely he wouldn’t want to do anything right now with all of his partners in the office? It would certainly be precarious to do so, but a part of you grew excited at the thought of it. When you finally stood in front of the frosted glass door, you rested your hand on the cool metal handle and took a deep breath before lifting a fisted hand and tapping the knuckles of your hand against the handle three times.

               “Come in.”

               You pushed the door open and stepped inside, sure to shut the door behind you. Raising your head you caught sight of Yixing. He was sitting behind the desk with hands clasped together, but when he saw it was you he immediately began to rise from his chair. His black hair was perfectly styled to the side and his shirt clung to his body enough to give you at least a hint of what laid underneath. His eyes were dark, though captivating as ever as you saw lust sparking behind them. However, there was something hostile and possessive about the way he looked at you as he rounded his desk and strode toward you. “I don’t really think this is the time—“

               Words were cut short as he crashed his lips onto yours, evidently not in the mood for conversation. Despite your protest, you immediately responded; hooking your arms around his neck, you fiddled with the ends of his hair as he melded his lips with yours. It never ceased to amaze you how good he was at kissing, knowing the perfect measure of give and take as he pulled away slightly only to smirk when you chased after his kiss. Lips meshed together and you felt his moist tongue swipe along your bottom lip, driving his tongue into your mouth as soon as you gave him the opening. His tongue swirled around yours and you clutched at his hair, pulling it just enough to make a deep growl erupt from his throat. Hands groped your waist before he caught a firm hold of your curves and began to guide you to the desk. The cool edges of the desk hit the back of your thighs and Lay leaned into you, forcing you to clutch the sides of his face. You felt his jaw working under your fingers as he kissed you, an arm curling around your back and lifting you onto the edge of the desk. He kept his hold on you as he reached behind you with his free hand, pushing various objects to the side carelessly. A few things crashed to the floor and when he was satisfied with the amount of space left on the surface of the desk, he pulled away from you, bringing you upright. Your eyelids fluttered open to meet his fierce orbs. The free hand came under your thigh and he jerked you forward to sit on the edge of the desk. Standing in between your legs, your heat pressed against his groin deliciously. His mouth hovered centimeters away from you but refused to meet you as he commanded you, “Lay back.”

               Obedient to a fault, you followed his order, lowering onto your back and shivering a little as the coolness seeped through your shirt. Anticipation built inside of you; Yixing was never like this. Though sex might sometimes get a little rough, he was never cold, never demanding. You jumped when his lips met the crook of your neck, working across your jaw and into the dip, pressing moist addictive kisses. Finding your sweet spot, he sucked harshly making you cry out.  Fingers popped the first button of your blouse open and when he deemed your neck to be marked enough, he lowered his lips to your collar bone. “I don’t like it when people try to take what’s mine, Y/N.”

               His voice was dark and seductive, the words shocking you. “What are you talking about?”

               “That guy you had lunch with.” He replied kissing the valley between your breasts sloppily and pushing your shirt wide open.

               “He’s my best friend, Yixing. Nothing more. He would never try anything with me, ah-“A gasp cut through your words and he worked a hand under the cup of your bra, kneading your breast and flicking the nipple roughly. His other hand crept around your back, forcing you to arch for him so he could unhook your bra. “Besides, I don’t recall being yours.”

               Moving your back down once the bra had been successfully unhooked, your center brushed against his bulge, making a strained groan escape him. Removing your shirt and bra at the same time, he moved his ghosted his lips over your right breast before taking it into his mouth, swirling your bud with his tongue, making you writhe under him. Letting your breast leave his mouth he answered your question while looking up at your with the sincere, kind eyes you were used to, roughness long gone. “Well, do you want to be?”

               Your heart skipped a beat, and though the question was posed as casual, you knew what he meant. As it turns out, Baekhyun was right after all and you loathed yourself for wasting so much time being scared of asking about the relationship when he had done it so nonchalantly. He chuckled when you swiftly replied, “Yes.”

               “Well, since that’s settled…” His voice grew quiet as he pressed open mouth kisses to your hot skin, working his way down to the edge of your skirt. His hands moved to the zipper, quickly undoing it and placing a kiss just above your belly button before standing straight to shimmy the fabric down your legs and past your knees before throwing it to the side, leaving you half exposed to him. He caught his lip between his teeth as he stared down at your body, hands roaming along the curves of your waist before cupping your exposed breasts, causing heat to rise in your cheeks. Staring you in the eye, he kept one hand massaging your mound while the other slid down your body languorously, sending a tremor through you. Rough fingers traced down to cup the bottom of your thigh as he began to lower to his knees. Anticipation coursed through you as he lifted your leg to rest on his shoulder and his moist breath fanned against your core, but the logical part of your brain kept picking up sound coming from the office.

               “Wait, Lay.” You said hurriedly. “Stop.”

               “Is something wrong?”  He immediately ceased his movements, eyes flicking up to you with concern, no doubt wondering if he had done something wrong.

               “No, “You replied, biting your bottom lip, trying to think of excuse. You didn’t mind being reckless, but wasn’t this just stupid? His office didn’t have a lock because of his ‘open door’ policy. “I just- aren’t you supposed to be in a meeting right now?”

               “That’s what you’re worried about?” He smiled, finding your concern adorable. “Don’t worry, its lunch break right now.”

               “But shouldn’t you be eating then?”

               “Ah, my girlfriend is so doting. But,” The way the word ‘girlfriend’ rolled so easily off his tongue made your heart flip in your chest as his lips curled in to a wicked smirk and he kissed your inner thigh. “Isn’t that what I’m about to do?”

               Your lower abdomen clenched at his words and you could feel yourself getting wetter for him. He pressed a few more kisses to your thighs, working his way inward and biting softly in spots. His hand which had held your breast moved to thread your fingers together on your right hand. Just as his lips brushed against your clothed center and you arched your back off the desk in pleasure, a knock sounded from the door.

               Both of your heads raised to look at the door, then each other as you two paused, stuck in shock. After a full five seconds, you began to move in hyper speed. Scrambling to pick up your clothes, Lay began cleaning up the papers scattered on the floor, calling out, “Just a minute!”

               Hurriedly, you threw on your clothing, nearly falling over when you accidentally stepped on the hem of your skirt, much to Yixings amusement. Brushing dust off your skirt you tuck in your shirt before standing before Lay and holding your arms out in question. However, apparently you weren’t up to par as he stifled a laugh behind his hand before pointing down at your blouse. Furrowing your eyebrows, you looked down to see that in your rush to change you had mismatched your buttons so the shirt sat lopsided on your frame. Frustrated, you dropped your hands to your side before struggling to undo the buttons. “Oh mother of Christ.”

               “Here, let me help.” Yixing said, a hint of laughter in his voice as he pushed your hands away from the front of the shirt, taking over your task. One by one, he undid the buttons, before redoing them carefully, checking to make sure everything was proper before tugging you closer by the collar of your shirt.  “Perfect.” Swollen pink lips pecked your forehead softly, before moving down to peck your nose, then your mouth. You giggled softly and he smiled warmly at you before placing some random papers in your arm and returning to his seat behind his desk. “Come in!”

               A head poked into the door and you recognized the man to be a guy named Tao, a childish sort of man, but rather pleasant in your opinion. He smiled and bowed at you, not at all fazed by your presence and you suspected this was because he seemed to be the closest semblance to a best friend that Yixing seemed to have. “Sorry to interrupt sir, but there’s some information regarding Lee Minho that I think you should see.”

               The tranquil look that had been Yixings face dropped into a stony expression as he replied, “Okay. Meet me in the private room right away.”

               Tao nodded briefly before bowing to me again and exiting the room. Glancing at Lay, you felt concern fester inside you. An anxious expression was cast over his features, a stark difference from not five minutes ago. “Is everything okay?”

               As soon as you spoke, Yixing’s face changed as though he put on a mask and he was back to his smiley self. “Everything’s fine, just business stuff.”

               “O-okay.” A part of you knew he was lying, but you didn’t really want to probe him so you let it be. You pecked his cheek quickly and moved to leave the room. “I’ll see you later.”

               “Before you go, I was serious about what I said before, Y/N.” His voice stopped you cold in your tracks, making you turn back around to face him again.

               “That I’m yours?” Your cheeks flushed. “I know.”

               “No not that.” He replied, making you stare up him befuddled, only to see that his eyes had become cold all of a sudden, and not the way they had been when he was jealous. This Lay seemed much icier and gave off a tone of warning. He almost gave off a menacing tone. “About that guy from before. There are two things I simply can’t stand; when people try taking what is mine, and lying. Okay?”

               Still unsure of his meaning, you stared at him. His eyes still bore into yours, not lightening up. Realizing he expected an answer, you nodded your head and replied timidly, “Okay.”

               “Perfect.” Once again he did a 180 and his frightening glare had vanished, bringing back the laid back Lay you knew best. Walking up to you, he rubbed the side of your arms, asking you softly, “Do you want to go for dinner tonight? It’ll be pretty late cause of how busy we are but …”

               “Like a date?” The astonishment was evident in your voice, and his cold demeanor left your mind like a kite in the wind.  When he nodded frantically, you couldn’t hide the smile that domineered your lips. “I would love to.”

               “Good.” Looking at his watch, he flipped his gaze back to you and scrunched his eyes as though in deep thought before saying definitively, “Meet me behind the building at 10?”

               You nodded and he pecked your forehead one last time before setting off to speak with Tao. Sighing happily to yourself, you left his office and made your way to his cubicle, setting your stuff down and slumping in your chair. The way he called you his girlfriend rung in your head and your buried your face in your hands and shook your head back and forth, holding in a squeal. However, your joy was cut short when his cold stare invaded your mind, reminding you of the odd situation. You didn’t really know what to make of it, seeing as Yixing hadn’t shared much of his life with you. Rifling through the papers he had handed to you absentmindedly, you wondered just how much of his life you didn’t know about; you were willing to bet it was a lot. Mulling over your thoughts, you thumbed through the papers when you felt something filmy glide across the pad of your thumb.

               “What’s this?” you muttered and pulled out the paper, realizing it was really a photo.

               The picture was dark, almost impossible to be able to see the faces of the people I it. However, you could tell that whatever conversation in the picture that they were having obviously was not one that they were inclined to share judging from the setting. They had met in an alleyway and held their heads close together, faces hidden by ball caps. You flipped the picture and saw red writing on the back.

               LEE MINHO 4/26/15 2:51 AM

               Lee Minho, you thought to yourself, who is this guy? You couldn’t deny that it shook you a bit that lay had been spying on people and you found yourself curious as to why. Tearing through the other papers in the stack, your eyes searched every page, but to no avail. The picture must have accidentally gotten slipped in when he bunched them together. You were no business man though, so you wondered if perhaps it was just because he was gathering information on competitors, or perhaps they were criminals who stole from him. The prying feeling itched at you, telling you to dig deeper, but you knew to do so would be a breach of trust. Besides, it’s Yixing. For all you knew, he could be bringing down a puppy mill or something.

               Dismissing the picture, you snuck back into his office and placed it on the desk, not even giving yourself enough time in there to consider snooping. Work dragged on and you watched the clock consistently, groaning every time you looked because it seemed as though time had not been passing at all. Putting the odd picture and change of attitude in the back of your mind, you focused on what your date. You still were slightly shocked that he had asked you to go out with him. Every time you thought of him saying ‘do you want to be’ you wriggled in your office chair, unable to contain your happiness. You gained a few off looks through the day, but you paid no mind to them because you knew that if any of the other women were in the position you were in, that they’d react the exact same way, if not weirder. You found yourself looking for Yixing, peering over the cubicle whenever you heard a man’s voice footsteps passing by. When running errands, you couldn’t resist peering into his office to see if he’d returned. However, no matter how many times you looked in every which way, there was no sign of your new boyfriend. Your mind tracked back to Lee Minho, but you quickly shook the thought. He’s probably just caught up in work.

               Finally the clock hit 10 and you shut off your desk lamp, picking up your coat from the back of your chair and shrugging it on. Goodbyes passed your lips like lightening, not wanting to be held up by anyone. You smiled to yourself as you got into the elevator, looking forward to your first date with Yixing. Sure, you had seen each other out of work once or twice, but it was never for something like this. Daydreaming about what kind of place he’d take you to, you made your way out of the building, walking merrily down the alley to the back of the building where he usually parked his car. Rounding the corner, you had half expected him to be leaning on the hood of his car like in romance movies, but when you arrived he wasn’t even there. Confusion muddled your brain. This is the right place, isn’t it? Studying your surroundings, you knew you had to be in the right place. His car was right there so where else would he have meant? Maybe he got held up? If it was any other man, you would have assumed that you were being stood up, but this was Yixing; he wasn’t that type of guy nor would he ever be. So where was he? Plopping down on the hood of the car you decided to wait, shooting a quick text. Chipping at the nail polish on your fingers, you shuddered, a breeze chilling you. Seriously Yixing, where are you—

               A scream interrupted your thoughts and your head snapped into the direction that it had generated from. Debating what to do, you shuffled on your feet. But Yixing… You felt terrible for up and leaving but could you really just ignore a scream like that? Yixing was supposed to be here at 10 and yet there was no sight of him, so you wondered if you had time to run off when it hit you. It was his scream you heard.

               Your feet moved of their own accord, immediately sprinting in the direction of the scream. You ran further and further down the alley, all the while dialling the police number in your phone, prepared for the worst. You whipped your head left and right with every opening you passed, desperate to find Lay, when finally your eye caught a glimpse of the white shirt he had worn that day. Whirling down the alley, you squinted to try and see him better in the night. Panic stopped your blood cold when you saw him close to the ground, though you still couldn’t see what position he was in. Growing closer to his crumpled figure, you called out his name, slowing down as you neared him. At the sound of his voice being called, Lay snapped his head in your direction, his face unreadable from this distance. You realized he had been crouching over something as he began to rise to his full height. Standing only a mere 10 meters away from you, your eyes scanned over him, praying he was fine. Starting at his head, you saw that his hair was ruffled and sticking up in various directions. Eyes travelling down his body, you saw that he had a bleeding lip, but that wasn’t the worst of it; not by a long shot. The entire front of his black blazer was covered in a deep coloured sticky substance which you could only conclude was blood.

               “Oh my god. Are you okay—“

               Your voice caught as you looked at his hand. The entirety of his hand was smothered in blood and resting in his grip was what looked like a switch blade. It was only then that you looked down at what he had been crouching over, a wave of nausea making you stumble. Lying by his feet was a body. Not any body, but Lee Minho; the man in the picture.  You could see the whites of his eyes, even from this distance and they were rolled back so that only half his pupil was visible. His mouth hung open and his body was rigid on the pavement as blood pooled around him, touching the edge of Yixing’s shoes. The cogs in your brain sputtered and spurred as you tried to piece together the situation. But- but there’s no way that Yixing could do this… You thought, but as you looked down at the body and the knife that he held firmly in his hand, how could you come up with any rational explanation?

               “Lay, what—“

               He sighed deeply, not letting you finished your sentence as he knelt over the body again, wiping the knife on Minho’s cotton shirt to rid it of the blood before he wiped it with what looked like an alcohol wipe and folding the knife back in. Shoving the weapon in his pocket, the same cold look that had irked you earlier came over him. He flashed you his signature smile, though it wasn’t inviting as it had been before but unsympathetic and taciturn. You clutched your stomach, unable to take your eyes off of the body as your stomach threatened to upheave everything you had eaten in the past twelve hours.

               “You know what else I hate, Y/N?”

               Your name sounded foreign coming from this man’s mouth. This wasn’t your Yixing; you refused to believe it to be. Your Yixing was kind and compassionate, never cruel. Meanwhile this man was calculating and harsh, not caring that he had just taken life from a being; he was a monster. But he had the same lilt to his step as he walked slowly toward you, unfazed by the fact that he had just killed a man.  No matter how you looked at it, he wore the same face as Lay, though he was like a whole new person and for the first time in the entire time you had known him, you finally knew what they meant when they said Zhang Yixing was a dangerous man. You shook your head to say no, though it was no more than a tick. Nevertheless, he caught it and smiled sinisterly and you wished more than anything that whoever this was would stop wearing the face of the man you love.

               “Snitches. I really hate snitches.” He folded his jacket carefully over his arm, careful not to get the blood anywhere on his shirt. You wanted nothing more than to cry out, and yet as you looked in his eyes, you couldn’t deny that this was still the man that you fell so hopelessly in love with. Unable to take it anymore, you looked down at your feet, squeezing your eyes shut and wishing that this was all a terrible, awful, bad dream. He reached out to touch you, unsurprised when you flinched. But you never stopped him, as he trailed his finger down your jaw, hooking it under your chin and tilting your face upwards. “Look at me.” He said authoritatively and you obeyed, hating yourself for still feeling your stomach flip when he placed a finger on you after he had done something so dreadful. You had always thought that murderers were supposed to be unstable and cracked. Yet when you peered into Yixing’s eyes, you saw nothing but clarity; clarity and an odd sense of harmony. Holding his chin your grasp, his tone maintained a warning note, though it was mixed with tenderness, “But I don’t need to worry about you doing anything like that, right?”

               You felt tears well up in your eyes and you croaked out, “No.”

               “That’s my girl.” And just like that, the murderer was gone and Mr.Zhang was back. He smiled dopily at you and pecked your cheek, ignoring how you scrunched your face. “I know it’s hard to understand now, but one day you’ll get it, Y/N.” He said with his wide seemingly innocent eyes, and distantly you wondered what would happen if you never did get it. Walking past you he started down the alley, walking as though he was on a midnight stroll, holding out his non bloodied hand and calling to you, “I’m starved, Y/N! I promised a date so shall we be off?”

               For a moment you remained; transfixed on Minho. The blood was getting stickier and darker as it spread through the cracks and he was pale enough that you knew he had likely long since bled out. How many times has he done this? You wondered, though you knew it didn’t really matter. Obviously it was enough for him to be comfortable with it. You knew the choice that was laid at your feet, but you wondered what choice you really had. If you left him, would he kill you too? Or would his feelings interfere and inable him from that? Or did he even feel anything for you? Could he feel? Questions plagued you but as you stared at Minho lying dead on the ground, you also wondered if he had a family, whether he would be missed, or if he would even be noticed as missing. The more you thought, the more you hated yourself. Watching the life seep out of this man and knowing who did it, you thought you should feel remorse for this man or disgust for Lay, but no matter how you dealt it, your feelings for him were still there. Was it so wrong to believe in the words he said? That’d it’d make sense later? You certainly wanted to believe so. Though you detested yourself for it, you couldn’t give up on him. So, you didn’t. Turning on your heel, you raced to catch up with your boyfriend, capturing his hand which he still held out for you to take. Curling your fingers around his hand, your heart still thumped erratically in your chest when he squeezed your hand despite the bile in your throat. In that moment, you knew your fate. After all, he is the best.

The Punchline Ch. 1/3

This is for fierceespemily, one of the winners of my writing giveaway!  I had to twist the prompt you gave me a little bit so I could make the word count, I hope you like it!

Clarke couldn’t keep her eyes off Wick’s extremely attractive best man.  He stood still and didn’t fidget like the other groomsmen, which is probably what drew her attention to him first.  But what kept it was definitely the thick jet black hair that fell in unruly curls over his forehead, the small smile on his face when Wick and Raven read their vows, and the way he kept his hands clasped in front of him, head bowed just the slightest bit.

Read it on AO3

Clarke Griffin’s alarm went off, trilling loudly and obnoxiously from its post on her nightstand, at 8:30 AM.

She rolled over onto her back and groaned, throwing a hand over her eyes, squeezing them shut, the noise of her alarm drilling its way into her head.  Maybe, just maybe if she pretended she couldn’t hear it, the noise would stop, she could go back to sleep, and this day could be over.

It wasn’t the earliness of the hour that was throwing Clarke off.  As a doctor who had just finished her residency the year before she was used to keeping weird hours.  8:30 was almost late in her book.  No, it wasn’t the time, or the fact that it was the first Saturday in months that she’d had off.

The reason Clarke had been dreading this Saturday for the last three months had nothing to do with any of that and everything to do with the pale blue silk dress hanging on the back of her closet.

Her maid of honor dress.

Keep reading

Boy In The Shadows*Michael Clifford

Phantom of the Opera AU*
writer: 
Idika (It’s been so long!)
writings   if you’re on mobile, click for masterlist

A/N: So if you haven’t watched Phantom of the Opera (you should probably watch it, its like my all time favorite musical (along with others) on this earth so I EXTREMELY RECOMEND IT IF YOU LIKE MUSICALS) but if you haven’t watched it, its about this phantom dude who lives in an opera place in a cellar and falls in love with this girl and like she doesn’t like him because she’s in love with this other dude. I’m gonna spare you the details so you can watch it but I’m gonna twist this au a bit. Michael is the descent of the phantom and Christine. Enjoy :)

The Opera Populaire. One of the most famous opera places in France. You were aspiring your music career and it just so happened that you were currently on a field trip to France to visit.

“Y/N!! The rumors are fake. Don’t be  wuss.” Your best friend, Clara, said. You chewed your lip lightly.

“You don’t know that.” You whispered under your breath. She rolled her eyes and dragged you inside.

“Ohmy-” You cut yourself off. The place was extremely large and intricate: walls painted in detail, a large chandelier slightly dusty, marble floors.

“This is the stage.” Monsieur Raymon, your music director, announced. You swallowed hard, suddenly feeling extremely cold. It was as if someone was watching you.

“We will be staying in the rooms of the Populaire for nearly three weeks or more. Make yourselves at home. Do not play with the instruments. It must be decades since last used. Rehearsal will start tomorrow so practice. Your names are on one of the rooms on a sticky note. Have fun.” Monsieur said, tapping his walking stick loudly before strutting away.

“Its gorgeous here.” Clara awed. You nodded, feeling slightly sick.

“Hey Clar, can you meet at the pit of the stage in two hours? I don’t feel so great right now and I want to settle down.”

Clara smiled sympathetically.

“Oh alright. But don’t you dare miss the dinner. Pre show dinner is the best.” She said, giving your arm a tight squeeze before waltzing away. Chewing on your lip, you began to make your way to the room. Grasping the bronze nob, you opened the door. It let out a loud groan. Quickly you flickered the lights. The room was practically vintage, floral designs on the walls, nineteenth century cashmere colored tables, etc. You found your luggage beside the bed. Rubbing your eyes you sat down and took in deep and slow breath. What was happening to you? Your external senses seemed to be on high alert and you constantly felt shivers. Opening your eyes, you let a loud scream before a hand covered your mouth.

“Don’t you dare scream when I let go.” The voice warned. You nodded furiously. The boy suddenly came to view and your eyes widened.

“No no no no no-” You rushed, running to the door. The boy beat you to it, trapping you against the door. He had striking eyes and grayish hair, obviously dyed. He seemed around your age or maybe slightly older. You shut your eyes tight and count to ten.

“Your not real. This is not real. I’m hallucinating. I’m psycho. I should’ve gone to that doctors appointment.” You whisper, your chest heaving and brushing against the boy. Slowly you opened your eyes to see the boy again. A smirk played on his pale lips.

“I’m Michael.” He said, his voice deep and smooth. That was enough to set you off. You flung the door open and ran as far as you could.

“Y/N-” You slammed into Clara.

“Clar, ohmygod-” You grabed her elbow and pulled her into the nearly corridor.

“You wont believe me-” You panted, before sucking in air.

“Michael. Michael Clifford.” You finished. Her eyes bulged.

“Your joking.”

You shook your head vigorously.

“Michael as in Erik and Christine’s great great great great-”

“Oh for the love of god Clar. yes!!!” You exclaimed. She bit her lip.

“Is he hot?” She asked. You choked.

“Clara!!!”

“I was wondering okay?!?! I mean the phantom- sorry. Erik was pretty legit back then too." 

You rolled your eyes. His electric eyes burned at the back of your mind, his smirk seemed to be permanent in your vision, every breath you took smelled like his dewy like self, his proximity when he trapped you by the door. It was as if you knew every detail about him. Like watching  movie a million times and reciting every line.

"Lets go. The pre show dinner is gonna start and im more than ready!” Clara chanted, pulling you into the dining room before stopping.

“Wait we need to change.” She said, looking at her pjs. Your eyes bulged.

“No no no we cant.” You rasped, thinking of meeting him again . Clara rolled her eyes. You quickly told her what happened.

“Oh my god!! That’s s cute!!” She gushed. You shook her head.

“Why are you so negative about this?” She mutterd

“Because he scares me!! Those rumors and-"  Suddenly you felt someone watching you.

"Oh puh lease!!! Its a load of bull. Now come on. Just- can you pat your hair down at least?”

You sighed and quickly flattened your hair and ran into the hall.

Clara sure was right. There were tables of food but you weren’t hungry. Far from it. The place was constant of chatter and it felt like the scenes in Harry Potter when they had their feast. You sat beside Clara and another classmate whose name was Erin.

“At least eat something Y/N..” Clara trailed. You shrugged and began to pile your plate, suddenly feeling a surge of hunger. The rest of the dinner went swell and you began to enjoy yourself.

“That was fun.” Clara sighed, bumping shoulders occasionally with you. You nodded in agreement.

“Well I ought to say goodnight. Have fun with phantom boy. Spare me the deets for tomorrow.” She winked. You rolled your eyes and suppressed a smile, failing miserably. You began to make your way to your room before stopping at the door where it said stage. This was where Christine once performed. Where the Phantom watched her in box 5. Biting your lip, you pushed the lever open and walked in. It was incredibly chilly. Shouldve listened to Clar and changed in to a damn sweater. You closed the door behind you gently and turned around. The sight shocked you. It was humongous and intricate. You made your way on stage and sat, your feet dangling. The audience’s seats were maroon and freshly fabricated.

“Come here often?” A resonating voice asked. You flinched slightly and tuned sideways to see Michael sitting next to you.

“Not really.” You whisper, looking back up and staring at the statues. You felt his breathing sync with yours. Your heat beat mustve sped a thousand times faster as you felt his warmth radiating against you.

“Do you know what roll your going audition for tomorrow?” He asked. You shook your head and kicked your feet.

“Don’t you think its odd that there is a musical about your great great ten times more great grandparents and nearly the whole world believes that its a myth. Your a myth?” You ask, casting  glance at him. His silvery hair twinkled in the spotlight and made his eyes more vibrant. He shook his head, now slightly looking down at you.

“Not really. They’ve modernized the play now. Its not all opera-y and more guitar-y and stuff. I like the old stuff better.” He said, not taking his eyes off you. (Okay so if you have watched POTO think of it more modernized and maybe more 5sos-y.) You don’t bother breaking your stare from him. He was beyond mesmerizing. He was a work of art. His pale skin contrasting with his plump pink lips. His grey eyes vibrant. Your heart twinged. No doubt were you slightly (more than less) seduced by him. Internally cringing at the thought, you look down.

“Why are you scared of me?” He hushed in a whisper, his voice slightly twinged with hurt. The tension between both of your hands grew and if he wasn’t going to grab it, you were sure you would explode.

“You’re-” You thought for a moment.

“You’re so unique. Usually I can tell exactly what a boy is like but then you come along and its just so confusing and those rumors-” You sigh.

“Ive never been very good with boys.” You say, casting a quick glance at him. A smile formed on his lip and you swore adrenaline rushed through you, your heartbeat sped a million miles per minute and your emotions exploded into so many feelings you couldn’t account for.

“Well that was an easy guess.” He said making you gasp and hit his arm.

“Only joking babe.” He grinned making your heart flutter.

“Do you ever p;ay the parts in the plays?” You ask. He nods.

“Usually the phantom. Its tradition that they let me play in the play.” He says. You nod.

“I was thinking i’d be more of a Meg Giry.”

“Well lets hear you sing.”

And so for the rest of the night, the both of you continued to goof off, sing old classics, do very little practice for the audition, and lots of him flirting and you blushing.

————————————————

So the ending wasn’t the bomb.com but feedback would be lovely. AND IM SORRY I HAVENT WRITTEN IN YEARS AND MADE DREY WRITE I HAD STUPID FINALS AND CRAP!!!

~Idika :)

askskywolfxx​: I’m having trouble finding your ask box n stuff so……∇ -old age/aging headcanon. But anyway,it’s the babe, Waluigi!~ :3

Waluigi would be the most foxiest old geezer in the damn world! ♥

His face is wrinkly, his mustache greyed out a bit, and the natural hair color faded into an ash grey and light brownish tone, yet he still has his full head of hair and his mustache going strong. His voice is pretty hoarse, but sounds like himself. His stature/poise is still the same as his younger self. However, he is not as athletically strong as he used to be, so he sticks with playing ping-pong, mini-golf, you know! All of the sports that old people play! But don’t fret; he’s still got his green thumb.

His personality is still the same, but he doesn’t get angry as much as he used to be, so it won’t be strong enough to pop a vein or anything like that. Plus, he’ll also have to keep an eye on his own blood pressure. At least he got his romantic charms, his cleverness and wit, and his golden sense of humor.

He would usually chill at his own home; sometimes he’ll invite his brother Wario and his cousins Mario and Luigi for old times sake, you know, just to hang out and all that. They’ll even wear their signature outfits, including their hats. In his off days, he’ll be relaxing outside in his front patio with his wife Rosalina (who is also old. Agh! Just sue me, will ya?), play the ukelele, and yell at little kids who trespass his house.

If Pietro had to describe Clint he would say the man liked to run headfirst into danger. He could be reckless and irresponsible at the best of times. Pietro had long ago lost count of the number of building’s he had jumped off, or the wounds he had received on missions. He was dedicated and fiercely loyal to the team, willing to help and much to Pietro’s exasperation willing to sacrifice himself at a moment’s notice. In the field he was serious and focused on the mission. If he had to sum it up in one word, Clint Barton was fearless.

               To say he was more than a little bit shocked to see the archer twisting in fear during a movie of all things would be an understatement.

Clint was a touchy person. It was something Pietro loved about him as both him and Wanda had been starved for affection most of their lives. So to have Clint pressed against his side, limbs tangled up on of the couch was normal. The slight flinching when a ghostly face popped up suddenly or an almost inaudible gasp when the little girl disappeared into the basement with the demon was something new altogether.

Taking pity on his favorite archer, Pietro casually stretched, using the movement as an excuse to shift their positions so he was laying sideways with Clint curled up in his arms. Pressing a kiss to the top of Clint’s head, he caught the look of thanks thrown his way. Shaking his head he turned back to the screen. But not before a soft, “Silly old man.”  


67policebox