and each year they relive it

A LIST OF SWAN QUEEN FAN FICTION

B/C I KNOW Y’ALL ARE TIRED OF LOOKING FOR SWANQUEEN FANFIC RECS ON TUMBLR SO HERES THE GOOD SHIT.

  • all of these are in english
  • if you have any recommendations or additions, please let me know!
  • some fanfictions that i originally planned to include on this list were deleted by their authors :( 


CLASSICS (favorites)

The Art Of Being Extraordinary - if you haven’t read this already, wyd? The ending will destroy you - be prepared to cry. 

Letters From War - another extremely well known fic among swen. a heart-wrenching and beautifully written AU fic. even if AUs aren’t your thing, seriously, give this one a try.

Emma is a soldier on reserve in Fort Benning. Regina is the Mayor of Storybrooke. Through a pen pal program designed to ease the ache of homesick soldiers, Emma and Regina begin sending letters to one another as their relationship grows from cordial acquaintance to something neither woman would have expected - until the letters stop coming.

A Trail Of Destruction - DEFINITELY a classic imo. this is one of my favorite fanfictions of all time.

A hostage situation in City Hall leaves behind a battered, broken sheriff, and a mayor wracked with guilt. Trigger warnings for violence and gun threats and general angst. Slow-burn swan queen.

Miles To Go - AU; emma and regina meet at a party and the rest is history. this ones pretty long (80 chapters), but so worth the read! angsty & lots of ‘sexy times’ 

Everyone has their own story, this one is theirs and it paints the picture of a love story that spans over two decades, with all the ups and downs and everything else in between. SwanQueen AU
 

Of Love and Loathing - a lot of angry sex in the beginning, which eventually turns into lovey sex. another well known and well written fic - this author is one of my favorites. *reaaallyyy hot smut 

“I have been sleeping with someone,” Regina began tentatively, an acute awareness that once she said the words out loud that the madness behind her highly unorthodox situation became all the more real, “whom I absolutely loathe.” •Emma/Regina•

Meet me Halfway - one of the first swan queen fan fictions i ever read! still a classic to this day. AU

Emma Swan works hard every night as a bartender, struggling to raise her son and save up enough to own her own bar. Regina Mills is an upper class New York photographer who wouldn’t normally spare a second glance at people below her. When their paths cross, their lives adapt to each other, but how much are they willing to change?

Love Undefined - in the process of re-reading this one because of how much i love it. angsty as hell but such a beautiful story.

It’s been eight years since the last time Regina and Emma saw each other, eight years since Emma lost part of her happiness, her family, and everything fell apart. But she hasn’t forgotten those three years in New York, or any of what Regina had brought into her life. A late night phone call to Regina takes Emma back eleven years to when they met, saved each other from loneliness, and Emma started learning what it meant to live. She relives the moments that had changed her life for the better, and even the ones that had hurt.

Teacher’s Pet - KNOWN AS THE ONE TEACHER/STUDENT FANFIC THAT EVERYONE HAS READ. 

Emma Swan is starting her senior year. Her friends tell her about the Creative Writing teacher that she has on her schedule and how no one had passed her class with an A, not even her bookworm friend, Belle. What will she do? And who exactly is this ‘bitchy Evil Queen’ as they claim her to be? SwanQueen. Student/Teacher. M for language and future chapters.

Lost in Translation - i wasn’t sure about this before reading it but i LOVED it. the description pretty much sums it up.

AU. Regina is deaf. Emma is the only one who refuses to give her pity. In response, Regina is thrilled by this new challenge and the stand-offs commence, but over time she finds out there is more to the blonde woman than just a target to throw a stinging quip and pointed glare at.

Send Up a Signal - emma and regina are actresses and their fans ship them with each other. ;)

Emma Swan is catapulted into stardom, the newest lead actress on a sanitized show featuring modern fairytales. Regina Mills is a long-undermined star with a chip on her shoulder and a thousand reasons why she’s invested. Naturally, they loathe each other on sight.Their characters’ fanbases, however, have other ideas.

Reset - SO. GOOD. 95 chapters. if you’re looking for long fanfics, this is for you. 

Following the breaking of the curse everyone in Storybrooke is finding their happy ending, with one exception. Resigning herself to having lost Henry’s love and respect forever, Regina decides there is only one path available to her.

Take Me Home Tonight - AU!! lots of smut :) this is a newer one that i’ve seen around twitter and tumblr and i really enjoyed it! this one’s pretty short (14 chapters)

AU: Nineteen year old Emma Swan is a senior at the exclusive all girls boarding school, Foxhaven Academy. When her friends find out she’s a virgin they send her to the city to find a guy to take her v-card. But Emma is more interested in a sexy older woman she meets in a bar. A SwanQueen story.

The Staircase - non-consensual sex in the first chapter, so please be aware of that; its not for eveyone. this story is very dark but has a happy ending i promise!

Regina could still smell her cologne and feel the cheap pleather pressing into her back. The brunette sucked in a breath. She was still lying on the floor at the staircase’s base and she stared back up at it. Everything was different now. Changed. She felt broken by what had just happened, appalled and enraged, dirty. WARNING: NC17 for non-consensual sex. Dark. (But gets lighter.)

the trouble with emma - very very well known within the swan queen community. i’ll be honest, i never really got into the story but i can acknowledge that it is the most well-written fanfiction i have read to date. the author is truly talented. (the first in a series of fanfics)

Post ep 4x23, Emma becomes the Dark One and learns nothing is quite as it seems or as simple as black versus white. When Regina removes the curse no one in Storybrooke is prepared for the far reaching fallout which leaves none of their lives unaltered or untouched, least of all Regina’s.

SMUT 

shadow haven  - the one smut fic everyone has read.

Emma Swan is a PR agent who is sent on a holiday by her boss. Regina Mills is the owner of a private island named Shadow Haven. There is more to Regina than initially meets the eye. This story dips heavily into the BDSM subculture. Swan Queen romance / BDSM story.

the wicked stepmother - the one kinky fic everyone has read- or attempted to. i couldn’t get through the whole thing but the first few chapters,,, holy hell.

When the Evil Queen catches baby Emma along with Snow White, she decides on a new revenge. In Storybrooke, Snow White will be allowed to raise her daughter… but on her eighteenth birthday, Regina will come for her. Emma might just enjoy that.

in control  - Regina had never been in the habit of relinquishing control, but when it came to Emma Swan, she was starting to find out that giving in had its benefits. - Established Swan Queen - One Shot. Rated M for language and content.

the collar - It will carry strong mature themes as well as a Mistress/Slave relationship but it is also a lot more than that. However, as a warning this story will celebrate the shades of grey of our favourite couple as they find their way to each other and will deal with darker elements of their characters. Emma’s history differs a little from canon but will be covered by the story but there is no Henry and she is an adult in this fiction.

a little taste  - author of A Fine Line and Letters from War. 

Emma has been desperate to know what it’s like to kiss the smirk off of Regina Mills, but when she finally gets the chance, it doesn’t seem to be enough.

tempest - A storm ushers in an expected opportunity for Regina to finally rid herself of Emma Swan. She will posses the sheriff’s heart and then crush it. But what happens when nothing goes as planned? Rated M for language and Swan Queen sexytimes.

come on be nice - Regina has decided that the quickest way to get rid of Emma Swan is to scare off the commitment phobic woman with a come-on. This, as with many of Regina’s plans, does not go as, well, planned. Rated M for Swan Queen sex.

black lace - Emma and Henry find a way around the 'no visiting’ rule involving binoculars and the walkie talkie. Emma’s attention is fully on her son, she truly doesn’t intend to watch Regina at all. At least until the mayor begins undressing in front of her window..

dirty words - Regina is plagued by thoughts of a certain blonde. Deciding she is in need of cathartic release, she writes a quick narrative in hopes of cleansing her system. However, by a happy accident, the story falls into the wrong hands. What will Emma do with this new and intriguing insight into the mayor’s mind?

damn you, miss swan  Emma visits the mayor one night with a bottle of wine to cheer her up. Anger issues and smeared lippy ensues. WARNING: Includes a non-explicit passing reference to rape. This is my first story. A/N Jan 2015: Way back when I wrote this, no one knew anyone’s back stories, so I just made up stuff. Don’t be upset for canon divergence if you read it now. It wasn’t canon then.

mirror tricks The Evil Queen has made her way to Storybrooke, but she only seems to be interested in one thing: Emma. When Regina realises this, her jealousy starts to get the better of her.

my enemy’s enemy After her mother’s death, Regina finds a terrible surprise hidden among the witch’s belongings. Unfortunately, the only one able to cure her from the ailment is Emma…if she agrees. Strong language and mature themes. First stab at SwanQueen :)

ANGST

to remember her happy ending - “She doesn’t even remember her family! How am I going to explain this to her when she hates me!” She was falling apart now. The way the women in the other room had just looked at her, with such disdain. That wasn’t her wife. That was the Mayor, the Evil Queen maybe…but not her wife.

for endings are where we begin Regina Mills is your average working mom - she spends long hours at her bakery, loves her son Henry with all that she is, and can touch dead things and bring them back to life.Emma Swan is an orphan, an ex-convict, and a bail bondsperson residing in Massachusetts. She is also currently dead.This is the story of how they meet.

the loudest silence - New to Chicago Emma, a professional cellist, is shocked to find that a beautiful deaf woman is her new president of the board. As their friendship grows Emma begins to wonder, what does it look like when a world of sound and a world of silence meet somewhere in the middle? SwanQueen AU

broken 16 year Emma Swan is a preachers daughter on a tight leash, what happens when Regina Mills returns to town, dark, mysterious and dangerous? Will her father’s expectations take over or will Emma follow her heart? Is Regina legit or is Emma cute little pawn? Will Emma be able to love Regina for who she is or will her dark past ruin it ALL! SwanQueen G!P Some BDSM

bring her home Cora’s dead. Henry lives with the Charmings. Regina continues spiraling through grief and loss and hatred. Then Emma suddenly falls unconscious and Henry shows up at Regina’s door because he needs her help to bring Emma back. Reluctantly, Regina embarks on a wild swan chase through Emma’s mind, a whirlwind of ‘roads‐less‐traveled’ and ‘what‐ifs’ and ‘might‐have‐beens’, in order to bring her home.

if the blazer fits Emma decides to dress up like Regina for a Halloween party at The Rabbit Hole, a seemingly innocent decision that surprisingly leads to a relationship. The romance is openly feared by some and secretly despised by an unlikely source, who plots to end it.

a fine line Upon Regina’s banishment, the small town of Storybrooke becomes protected once again by an enchantment that prevents anyone from leaving or entering Storybrooke. Emma and Regina find themselves on the edge of the town, wishing for a way to the other side.

a pale imitation Regina is furious with Emma after she brings back Marian, but since she can’t take it out on her, Regina creates a mindless clone of Emma to hit instead. The clone doesn’t stay mindless for long though, developing an obsession with Regina. Written for summer 2014 Swan Queen Big Bang. (TW for sexual assault/rape and graphic depictions of violence)

FLUFF

one fine mess - Regina’s gut twisted with an agonizing pull and, for just a moment, she thought she might need to take up the same position as the woman crouched before her. “You’re pregnant?” she whispered grimly. Emma’s only response was to turn and retch into the toilet again. — Swan Queen, magic!pregnancy

coffee at midnight - (so good) Slow burn AU that starts with two women from different parts of the USA meeting on Twitter. Emma is an insomniac loner who is a Personal Trainer. Regina is a writer with a sleepless baby. Their lack of sleep and love for coffee soon brings them together and after that they find it hard to part. This is a fic where coffee is taking to mythical levels, despite it’s bad effect on people with insomnia and people with babies - showing that sometimes what you need and want isn’t always the thing that is wholesome and harmless. But also that denying yourself it will only lead to misery, something which Regina has to apply to other parts of her life.

all the single ladies With the library in desperate need of renovation, Storybrooke prepares for a fundraising dinner and bachelorette auction. What mischief and romance can be found as a result? SwanQueen with some RedBeauty Rating has been raised to M - now including adult content.


TEACHER+STUDENT / EMPLOYEE+BOSS

teacher’s pet - see above (classics)

take me home tonight - see above (classics)

step into my office, baby  - This is what you get for doing the nice thing, Emma thinks. You do that whole Pay It Forward bullshit - you buy a lady some coffee and you pretend like it isn’t totally motivated by how she looks in a pencil skirt - and she goes and insults your business card and turns out to be your company’s new Executive Director. Real fucking cute.From now on, she is drinking tea.or, the one where they’re in an office.

teaching miss mills  - Swan Queen Teacher AU: Emma is a gym teacher, who moves to Storybrooke Academy after becoming disenchanted with her job back in Boston. Regina Mills is the Head of English who Emma somehow seems to keep having run-ins with, despite the best of intentions. Along the way, Emma adjusts to small-town life, gets her teaching mojo back and grows closer to Regina. NOW COMPLETE

troubled teachers - COMPLETE! SwanQueen AU. Geography teacher Emma Swan starts a new life far from her troubled past and meets history teacher Regina Mills. But all is not as it seems when it comes to the composed, intelligent, and beautiful brunette. Family struggles and difficult relationships lead to a friendship and soon something more blossoms. Rated M for Ch 7, 18, 22, 24, 28, 29, 31, 35 and 38

not a virgin anymore When college student Emma Swan wakes up one morning with no memory of what happened the night before she’s very surprised she finds herself in professor Mills’s bed. 

is that so, miss swan? - College student, Emma Swan, is confronted by her favorite professor and secret heart-throb, Dr. Regina Mills. What happens when Emma is forced to reveal her secrets? We shall see. AU. Slightly OOC at times. No magic. SwanQueen. Rated M for serious language and eventual sexy times between our two favorite ladies.

butterfly effect - in her final year of college, Emma finds she has more to account for than the extra credits she needs in order to graduate. Only… she doesn’t expect it to come in the form of her newest instructor, Professor Regina Mills. Complete. AU Swan Queen

a sophisticated seduction Emma’s a college student, working as an intern at the Dazzle Magazine for a powerful woman she has never had the good fortune of meeting. But everything in her life is about to change when they finally meet. Especially when one falls so deeply in love with the other and the insecurities from a broken marriage comes to light. (Not Based on The Devil Wears Prada)

some other faves

down east decisions - Massachusetts State Police Capt. Emma Swan leaves her red-hot career to become the police chief of sleepy Storybrooke, Maine. She’s hoping for a less-complicated, less-dangerous life, a desire that is dashed on both counts. AU. No magic. Crime drama and romance. Swan Queen is endgame.

that drunken night - Emma’s wasted and accidentally calls Regina instead of her mom. And Regina isn’t as loathe to talk to the blonde as she usually pretends. Did things change between them so radically while they were in Neverland? (No copyright infringement intended.)

chasing henry - SQ. Tired of the tricks and lies of both of his mothers, Henry follows the dwarves, Red and Granny when they use Tiny’s magic beans to return themselves to their old land. Emma and Regina both chase after him, and they reluctantly travel together through the Enchanted Forest in order to find him and bring him back home safely.

so does this make us both the other woman? - Set after 3b in a peaceful Storybrooke where Regina is with Robin and Emma’s fallen into a relationship with Hook. Shame about all that subtext that’s rapidly threatening to become text.

Remember the first time we saw this scene, heard the sound of the skates, and the click of the skates stopping on the ice rink?

Presenting a countdown to relive your favourite Yuri on Ice moments to commemorate the one year anniversary of YOI! Taking place over a period of 12 days, each day will feature a prompt/theme where you can contribute creatively to celebrate 1 year of Yuri on Ice and the joy it has brought to all of us. 

Prompts/Themes : (Each daily prompt is derived from each episode!)

  • Day 1: Hasetsu
  • Day 2: Two Yuris / Instagram
  • Day 3: Eros/Agape OR Katsudon / Pirozhki
  • Day 4: Yuri On Ice / Music
  • Day 5: Biggest fan / Love
  • Day 6: Relationships
  • Day 7: Hugs and/or Kisses
  • Day 8: Makkachin / Pets (e.g. PTS, Phichit’s hamsters, Seung-gil’s dog)
  • Day 9: Food / Reunion
  • Day 10: Rings / Banquets
  • Day 11: Determination / Longing
  • Day 12: Stammi Vicino / Welcome to the Madness / Free skates
  • D-Day *ANNIVERSARY DAY*: Go crazy, draw everyone, draw anyone doing anything! Congratulations MAPPA & YOI for their first year!

As for details when the countdown will start, what to tag your posts as etc; all that has been put up on the blog! Info/Rules  &  FAQ. Twitter users can also cross-post their works over to Twitter with the same hashtags as there is a Twitter as well!

There’s still more than a week left until the countdown starts! Lace up your skates everyone, and let’s start brainstorming over what to create for the countdown!

Peter was familiar with this feeling.

After the fire, he’d sat in the bed, burns healing slowly cell by cell, unable to move, to speak, to cry. He’d felt nurses’ impersonal hands touch him, but never the touch of Pack. Laura and Derek may have come to visit him before running to New York, but he hadn’t been conscious when they had, if they had. And he’d gone mad: mad with pain, mad with anger, mad with betrayal, mad with bitterness and rage and a need for revenge. The first kind touch he’d felt in years had been from Jennifer, the sick woman who’d been a bit too ‘friendly’ and he’d had no qualms with ending her as soon as he was able. She’d been useful but he’d humor no one who saw to use him when he’d been in such a state.

But he was familiar, was the point. Familiar with this longing, this aching loneliness. This craving for companionship, for acceptance. To touch and scent another, to be touched and hold another’s scent. It was the wolf’s nature. And ever since returning to life, he had had little to no contact with any of the so-called ‘pack’ and he craved that touch. Derek, of course, was the obvious first choice, but even coming within reaching distance of his nephew was grounds for the Alpha to attack, lunging or hitting or shoving. It was draining and not very helpful in the whole scene of things. It put his wolf on edge even more so than it already was (a true feat, indeed).

Derek’s mistrust bled down into his pups so Boyd, Erica, and Isaac all treaded lightly around him, skirting the edges and avoiding all contact. And Scott took to glaring at him anytime he was within ten feet of him. And of course, it didn’t have to come from another wolf, but they should’ve been able to understand more so than any of the others would. Not that Peter was going to admit that he was needing the soothing touch of Pack, but still.

Lydia was mentally killing him anytime he was within her sight. The thought of carrying the scent of Argent made him recoil from the idea of Allison, even without considering how Scott would try to kill him if he tried. And he doubted Stiles would result with any better results, even if the boy would’ve been his first choice.

Peter sighed, once more at a loss on how to sooth his pacing wolf. It wasn’t until the full moon though that he was even willing to admit that the problem was getting out of control. His wolf had prevented much common sense and Peter had only barely been able to keep himself within the confines of his apartment on that night. He wanted to run, before the fire that’s what they had done during full moons, but now with Argents in the territory and Derek brooding and temperamental, it was better for everyone if he kept to himself. But he couldn’t keep keeping to himself, or he would literally go insane. Turn Omega. Being trapped alone with only his wolf had ruined him before and it was doing it again, slowly but surely.

He was sadly used to his wolf whining now, whimpering and pleading with his distant packmates to scent and welcome him within their midst. And sitting at the loft made it so much worse. Watching them brush against each other and laugh and joke and tease, but being kept at the outskirts, unable to join. It didn’t matter what he did, how much information or help he offered, he was mistrusted. And maybe he didn’t blame them–he did have a penchant for secrets–but for god’s sake he’d been half out of his mind and had had to relive his Pack being burnt alive in his head for six years. It took a toll and made people a little hell-bent on revenge.

He held back another sigh, flicking another page in his book and scanning for anything that would be useful against the tree nymphs that had taken up residence within the preserve. He hummed thoughtfully as he read a man’s personal story towards how he banished the creatures from his land.

“Did you find something?”

Peter stiffened, shocked as Stiles pressed his hand against his shoulder and the boy looked over him to read what he’d just read. His wolf was silent, tense, and neither of them dared to breathe for fear of the boy pulling away. His hand was warm, his scent pleasing. Whereas the boy used to smell like a teenaged combination of fear-sweat, body spray, and Fritos, he now had a more mature natural musk with mildly scented deodorant and just a hint of cologne. There was still the metallic tinge of his ADHD medication, but mostly it all just wrapped up into the enjoyable scent of Stiles.

“Hey, yeah, that’d be a good idea,” Stiles was talking, leaning further over the back of the couch and pressing more of his weight down on Peter. He took the weight easily, wishing he could lean over just that extra inch to press his cheek against Stiles’ and to just rub his scent into his skin.

“Great find, dude,” Stiles commented, smirking down at him before reaching over and snatching the book from his hold. His wolf whimpered painfully when Stiles pulled away and Peter barely managed to keep from yanking him over the couch and into his lap.

Stiles was touchy. He was always leaning on other pack members or they were leaning on him. He was probably the only one who everyone else was completely comfortable with, to be frank. Even Derek didn’t seem to have any major problem with him and Derek had issues with everyone. Still, for him to touch Peter so casually, press against him so familiarly…

Peter had tried to get away with sneaking quick brushes against the others in lieu of any real pack contact and those had all been horrible failures, but maybe Stiles would allow it. Before he’d assumed the boy would be too skittish, too mistrusting, as all the others–Stiles was honestly the most cautious one of the pack–but it would seem he’d been accepted by the boy. It was a nice thought.

So Peter tried it at the next pack meeting. He wandered past where the teens were working on their homework, heading for the kitchen. He noticed how Isaac leaned further up on the couch in response to him passing behind it, but Stiles remained unbothered. Peter dared to brush his fingers across the boy’s shoulder, holding his breath and trying not to appear too suspicious when Stiles looked up at him.

“Need anything?” He offered quietly, not knowing what else to say. What could excuse him touching Stiles?

Stiles quirked a small smile, eyes seemingly pleased. “Nah, I’m good,” he returned, turning his attention back to his report after Peter’s nod of acknowledgement.

Peter headed into the kitchen, barely managing to hold himself together for that long. He pressed back against the cool refrigerator as soon as he was hidden by the wall, hands trembling and legs shaking. His heart was pounding. Amazingly, wonderfully, the boy hadn’t rejected his touch. Hadn’t jerked away and turned his vicious, scathing tongue on him.

It took a while for Peter to get himself together. When he did, he grabbed a bottle of water and left the kitchen, passing the teens once more. He allowed his hand to casually run across the back of the couch, brushing against Stiles arm that was propped up against the backrest. Stiles glanced up to meet his gaze, a smile on his lips. Peter fled from the loft, fingers burning from the touch of the bare skin of Stiles’ arm.

“My wife and I met at work. We’ve been together for 3 years now. We decided to get married because we can’t see ourselves with anyone else.
What I love most about our relationship is that we accept each other for who we truly are, good and bad. We make each other better.


The best part of our wedding was exchanging vows. Everything was perfect. I wish I could relive it everyday.”~Ebony & Kiauna

  • Steven: you started a rebellion based on your personal ideological beliefs and although you glorified "freedom from the diamonds" as a free choice and justified your cause to yourself and your followers by preaching essentially nonviolent means of resistance, even to the point of all but killing one of your firmest ideological supporters for wanting to shatter gems instead of bubble them, you broke your own taboo shortly after by shattering one of the four guiding-light figures of gemkind, robbing countless gems of their natural sense of purpose, an intrinsic part of a gem's sense of identity, and forcing the choice of freedom from the diamonds upon each of them, only to then find the harmonious gem/human utopia you dreamed of replaced with a desolate dangerous stagnated world and dooming yourself and your two closest friends to an eternity of facing the distorted forms of your former friends and being helpless to help them, all of them taken with a disease too potent to be cured by your healing powers, a reality you had relived daily for thousands of years. you finally created me as a convenient escape from your mountain of regrets.
  • Rose: ok but season 1 episode 35
Manners

Jasper Hale imagine requested by casismyguardianangel. “Could I get Jasper/reader where it’s their first kiss please? They’re at the Cullen’s alone watching a movie & partway through reader does/says something & Jas just pulls her in without thinking, he tries apologizing but she kisses him to shut him up” Hope you like it!

“So you’re telling me you’d take the Civil War all over again over the court of Marie Antoinette? You’ve got to be kidding me,” you guffawed, watching Jasper’s smile creep by inches past his steely facade, his eyes abandoning the documentary you were watching in favour of meeting your inquisitive gaze. He shrugged his shoulders, his teeth gleaming in the dim glow of the television, his hands smoothing over the denim that clung to your shins. You had your legs propped-up in his lap, a comfortable position neither of you minded, but an innocent enough picture that, should your privacy be interrupted by the return of, say, Emmett Cullen, the mockery would remain relatively minimal. Jasper’s eyes flitted to the screen, his butterscotch irises burning in their own right as they reflected the lavish colours shown on the furnishings of Versailles. “What’s your reasoning? “What’s a plate of pastries to a field of dying men?” you joked, mimicking his unnaturally smooth voice to the best of your human abilities, emphasizing a thick Southern accent, thrilling at the rolling of his eyes. “I know you’re technically a killing machine, but I was so sure you had some level of restraint.” He refused to acknowledge your jab, fighting his smile as it grew. “Come on, Jaz, be reasonable. You’d really take war over a ballroom?” He turned to you, then, his eyes open and honest as he prepared to counter your argument.

“Absolutely, I would. I mean, can you imagine living like that? All the rumours, the powder, the… I mean, for women, especially, the corsets? I’d much rather stand behind a cannon and watch femurs get sawed in half than be so… stiff.” You rolled your eyes at his logic, his preference to gore rather than tolerate a little perfume and a few layers of lead foundation. You rolled a piece of buttered popcorn between your index finger and your thumb, your thoughts arranging to compensate for the new bit of information you’d snagged from the man. Jasper’s hand continued to smooth a pathway over your legs, his touch incredibly gentle, nearly ghost-like as he passed over and over the cloth covering your skin, his eyes on yours as he waited for your next barrage of questions. You popped the piece of popcorn past your lips, munching happily before voicing your confusion.

“When you say you’d rather endure the Civil War again, does that include… you know, how it “ended” for you, or just the golden-boy-and-youngest-member-of-the-Texas-Calvary bit?” He paused, his eyes lifting slightly in thought, his hand pausing just below your knee as he digested your comment. “I mean, would you get bit again? Just to avoid Versailles?” He grinned then, chuckling softly, his fingers toying with a piece of thread coming loose of your seams.

“Well, considering the alternative…” he eyeballed the television, redirecting your attention to the scenes of unrest among the French peasants, their fists raised against each others’ jaws as they tussled over scraps of discarded bread. “If you’re asking me whether or not I prefer vampirism to the Guillotine, I think you know my answer. I’d be a fool to pick getting cropped at the neck rather than being bitten there, no matter how…” he trailed off, as if hesitant to disclose the details of his transformation, his eyes clouding over as he relived the distant memory, scenes over a hundred years old painting the landscape of his features as his mind recollected the images. He sighed lightly, organizing his thoughts before continuing. “Only one of those options ends with me living.” You scoffed, bending at the knee to nudge his side with your foot, his bewildered eyes locking on yours with mock surprise at your breach of manners.

“So to speak,” you corrected, his laughter flooding through the emptiness of the Cullen residence, his smile wide, eyes sparkling joyfully. You knew there was a part of him that was flooded with relief that you could make light of his immortality, no matter how dark the terms of his contract may be. You were expected to run screaming for the hills, but you couldn’t fathom leaving Jasper for anything, supernatural or otherwise. He caught your foot in his hand, returning it to its previous position, his body sliding ever so slightly closer to yours at the end of the couch, a movement that wasn’t lost on you. He extended is arm over the back of the sofa, his forearm by your head, the scent of his skin wafting up to flood your senses.

“So to speak,” he mirrored, his grin lingering as you both returned your attention to the documentary, watching as friends of the monarchy met their fates by the falling blade of the Guillotine, wincing each time the lever was pulled. Jasper chuckled at your so obvious flinching, bringing his lips to your ear, his voice a mere whisper. “You know this is a dramatization, right? They’re not actually being put to death. They’re just fine.” Normally, you would have swatted him away, banishing his sarcasm with a harmless roll of your eyes… but he was so close to you in that instant, and the scent of him… you found yourself positively intoxicated by his presence, and ever more aware of his body as he moved closer by fractions of an inch. When he moved away from you, he was never quite as far; this most recent transaction left him all but beside you, your legs bent from the proximity. If you so much as shifted, you’d practically be nestled in his lap… not that you would have minded, only Jasper was usually so brisk about the distance between you and the razors he hid behind his lips, lips that, just a moment ago, had been brushing against your ear. Jasper turned to you, a quizzical expression knitting his brow, his eyes curious on your own. “Are you feeling alright? You seem…” his voice trailed off, watching as you displaced the popcorn bowl from your lap, relocating the ceramic to the coffee table before you, your eyes on the screen to avoid meeting his honeyed stare, though you were very much aware of the fact that his eyes remained glued to your face, tasting your emotional atmosphere.

“I should have known you wouldn’t be put-off by executions. Blood and all that,” you tried, your attempt at humour seeming flat even to your own ears. Thankfully, Jasper had the groomed manners of a Southern gentleman, which is to say he played along despite the knowledge that you were actively trying to keep the tone of the room a specific flavour. You couldn’t hide your heartbeat from a vampire, and you certainly couldn’t hide your emotions from someone who knew you as well as Jasper did, even without his gift.

“Yes, I’m familiar,” he responded, his voice light despite the breathy quality of his whisper. There was no need for him to speak at a higher volume; you were close enough now that his arm behind your head now hovered just above the ridge of your shoulders, threatening a gentle embrace, his breath kissing along your hairline, tousling stray strands as he exhaled. You lifted a hand to tidy what little he had disrupted, the backside of your hand brushing against his hair, unintentionally shifting his golden curls. You reacted as if you’d dropped something, immediately retracting your hand and assessing the region you’d nudged for damages, finding, instead, Jasper’s butterscotch eyes intent on your own. He was quiet where he would usually fill the silence with some sort of retort, his eyes devouring your features as if he were starving, yet there was a calmness, a patience about his stare… as if he were fully aware that he had all the time in the world to memorize the details of your face. His hand reached for your face, his fingertips shocking your skin as they brushed along your cheekbone, tucking the strand of hair that had been misplaced behind your ear, his touch lingering far longer than usual before his hand retracted. His lips pursed as he exhaled once more, a cautious, tentative breath slipping from his lungs. You opened your mouth to speak, your lips parting readily, Jasper’s eyes ducking to your mouth with a quiet hunger you wouldn’t have recognized if you weren’t feeling exactly the same way.

“You would do it again?” you asked, your voice weaker than you intended, Jasper eyes finding yours in the relative darkness, the credits rolling blackly and thieving the illumination from the room. He smiled simply, his movements so much smaller now that you were so close, his eyes gleaming despite the inky quality of the room. You had no doubt he could see you clearly. “All of it?”

“Of course I’d do it again. If I had never gone to war, I would have never been bitten. I would have never had the opportunity to meet you. War is no picnic, and ours was a particularly gruesome one, but I’d do it over and over until my dying day, if that day should come, if it meant I could see you when the sun went down.” You exhaled softly, your breath trembling as it left your body, Jasper’s face illuminated then by the title screen of the documentary, his features so much softer than you remembered, so tender…

“Well, aren’t you just a hopeless romantic?” you breathed, your words hushed in the limited space between your bodies, the coolness of his chest chilling you through his shirt where you touched. “Huh. Who would’ve thought? Jasper Whitlock, golden boy of the Confederacy, who would rather go to war again than dare to set foot in French court, has a soft spot for a human who flinches at fake executions. What are we going to do with you?” His eyes, which had been locked on your own, changed suddenly when you spoke his name; most people, including his family, referred to him by the alias Hale, which he had adopted when he joined the Cullen family due to his resemblance to similarly blonde Rosalie. You had no time to discern the meaning behind the so sudden shift in emotions before his hands were cradling your cheeks and his lips had crushed to yours.

You melted easily into his embrace, his hand dropping to the small of your back to bend you into his kiss, your body slipping into his lap as he held you to the marble coolness of his chest. Your lips answered his where they could, the both of you so fervent and overwhelmed by passion, but not mindless enough to forget the sharpness of his teeth now one wrong move away from slicing your lips. Your hands moved to tangle in his hair, your body arching into his when suddenly, he had separated himself from you, moving in the course of a single ragged breath to the opposite end of the couch. His eyes were wide with shock, his chest rising and falling with his breathing, which you had never seen so unsteady. His hands he held in his lap, his eyes on your face.

“I’m… please forgive me for,” he paused, formulating his words carefully while you caught your breath, your lips electric from his kiss, your heart galloping in your chest. “Where are my manners?” he chuckled, a bit breathless, his voice feebler than you had heard it before. “I shouldn’t have done that, not without… I should have asked your permission, I’m…” he exhaled, his eyes burning when they met yours. “Please accept my apologies. I didn’t mean… I shouldn’t have done that without first asking if you were-” you sat upright, your voice emerging far stronger than before despite your lack of steady breath.

“Shut up, Jasper.” His voice trailed off to hear you speak, his eyes staring into yours with genuine shock, his lips parting wordlessly. “Ask me.” He stared at you, blankly, not quite comprehending the turn of events that had unfolded so suddenly. He shook his head slightly, as if attempting to dash the confusion from his brain, his chest expanding as he inhaled.

“I’m sorry, I don’t-” he began, asking for clarification. You simply repeated yourself, your voice quiet and steady as you analyzed his features.

“Ask me, Jasper.” His eyes burned from within, his lips parting over a gentle smile, his happiness all but tangible in the darkness. When he spoke, his voice was dripping with sarcasm, mimicking your rendition of his voice, laying heavy on the Southern twang he had lost so long ago.

“Would you mind terribly, Miss, if I were to steal a kis-” he began, his arms enveloping you as you threw yourself into his arms, your lips finding his easily, his unnaturally quick reflexes melting you into his embrace once more. You wound your arms around his neck, your fingertips threading through the hair at the back of his head, his lips moving sweetly against your own. His thumb traced over your jawline, his fingers tangling in your hair, his kisses becoming more passionate with every minor separation. Your senses were so absorbed in the taste, the feel, the smell of him, that you didn’t notice when your company expanded.

“I’ll tell you what we can do with him, Y/n. Get him to a bedroom, huh?” Emmett sang, his voice gravelly as he chuckled. You and Jasper all but flew apart, his hands straightening your clothing where it had been disheveled, shooting daggers at the brother whose entry he, too, had missed. “Hey, I won’t judge. It’s just that this is a family room, Jasper. Best not to defile it.” Jasper hissed lowly at his brother, the aggravated grumble melting to a sigh as Emmett left the room, winking in your direction. You buried your face in Jasper’s chest, deflating with embarrassment as you giggled into the fabric of his shirt, his hands smoothing over your back, his body shaking beneath your hands as his laughter mingled with your own.

anonymous asked:

You heard melodrama already? Thoughts?

Hun….wow…..I was completely floored

I’m not even a Lorde stan….

I don’t usually get so emotional when listening to music…especially the first listen…I cried twice

The Louvre made me feel like I had a boyfriend of 3 years and we were as insanely in love with each other as the day that we met. Sober made me dance and go crazy. I relived Green Light in relation to the rest of the album and danced around my whole apartment. I sat down for Liability, my first time listening to it the whole way through, and cried. Supercut made the film nerd in me die, it plays like a movie. Writer in the Dark is so histrionic and on an album called Melodrama yes it just fits so perfectly. AN ALBUM!

anonymous asked:

Hey if you have time: ReaderXChekov where reader gets injured on an away mission and has to go see McCoy but plot twist reader is afraid of doctors and tries to hide. Chekov finds reader and drags/coaxes them to med-bay and stays while they get treated and is in general a good partner and friend. Bonus points if McCoy is grumpy that they are being so affectionate while he is trying to work, but secretly is glad Chekov is there because he knows reader is scared of doctors.

Chekov X Reader – An Apple a Day

A/N – Writing for Chekov but thinking of Jaal in Mass Effect Andromeda.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T


Originally posted by mrsawkwardseb

There was no doubt about it. Being a red shirt officially sucked. Sure, you’d often heard jokes about it but you’d never actually believed it. Now, you were stuck behind a rock on a desert outcrop, shielding yourself from Klingon fire while Kirk and Spock did the same a few metres away. Ideally, you could have laid covering fire down all day until Scotty beamed you back aboard the Enterprise. The planet however, ruined that plan with its highly magnetic field, meaning that because of interference with the sensors, Scotty could only beam the three of you back if you were all grouped together; that meant you had to leave the safety of cover so as not to risk Kirk or Spock’s life. It’s not that you didn’t trust Kirk and Spock to have your back but being the only security member there left you wishing you were the one protecting your team, the way it was meant to be; after all, you were the best shot of the landing party.

I couldn’t have been more scientifically minded. Nooo, I had to decide punching things was more fun.” You grumbled silently, mentally preparing yourself for what was to come next.

At Kirk’s nod, you sprinted the daunting gap which had seemed pitifully small only a few minutes ago. Seconds before you made it to safety, you felt a stinging sensation under your ribs. You knew all too well the pain of a phaser shot and this most certainly wasn’t it. A risky glance at your attackers revealed that the Klingons were accompanied by some form of unknown animal. It was a creature the likes of which you’d never seen before, an iguana-like animal, about the size of a large German Shepard, that apparently spat some form of acid. You felt tugging on your arm and in the next instance, the three of you were back in the transporter room.

Kirk gave you a concerned once-over, his gaze lingering on your torn shirt, the bile had lightly burnt the skin underneath. You glanced down at the injury; fortunately, it wasn’t causing much pain past a light stinging.

“Spock, comments?” Kirk demanded, never looking away from you.

“The Klingons have been suspected of creating genetic hybrids for some time now, Captain. Lieutenant (L/N)’s injury appears to be the work of the first one we’ve seen; effects are unknown. It is advisable that the lieutenant is escorted to med-bay for immediate treatment and long-term observation.”

Kirk nodded at the practical analysis, meanwhile, deep-routed fear clawed at the back of your mind, making you nervous about what could come if you didn’t act fast. Hiding your reservations, you tittered a small laugh, Spock raised a curious eyebrow.

“Come on guys, a doctor for this paper cut? I’ve had worse injuries from falling over, I feel fine, really.” You grinned breezily.

“No, Lieutenant.” Kirk argued. “I want you checked over by Bones.”

You held up your hands in mock surrender. “Alright, you got it. I’ll go to med-bay right now if it puts your mind at ease. Still, I really do feel fine so it’d be a waste of your time for you to escort me when I already know the way.”

“You sure?”

“Stop fussing, will you? I’ll see you later.”

Before any more arguments could be made you ran out of the room, taking a left for the turbolift but changing direction as soon as you knew it was safe to. If you were going anywhere, it was straight to your hab-suite for a change of clothing. Once in the safety of your room, you glanced at the wound which had dried out rather quickly, you hid it with the new shirt and left quickly, heading to the one place you would fade into the background; Engineering.


“Vhat do you mean ‘not here’? Vhere else could (s)he be?” Chekov asked McCoy dubiously. He’d come to pick you up from med-bay as a surprise only to find a disgruntled McCoy arguing with Spock over the comm-link.

“I mean that (Y/N) is not in this room, nor has (s)he been here since the mandatory physical at the beginning of the year.” McCoy growled gruffly.

“But (s)he’s hurt, zhe Captain said so.”

“I’m sure (s)he is but I don’t have time to play a damned game of hide and seek on a ship this big. You want my advice? Get a tracking device. Better yet, check with Scotty, (s)he’s probably with him in engineering anyway.”

“Really?” Chekov looked hopeful.

“HOW THE HELL SHOULD I KNOW?” McCoy burst out irritably. “You’re not gonna find anything here, go ask somebody else and stop wasting my time, I do actually have other patients, damn it.”

Chekov knew better than to provoke McCoy further, he left the doctor alone and begun his search for you, trying to reach you through your communicator every so often but receiving no reply.


You didn’t remember entering the empty storage room, in fact, you didn’t remember much at all. All you could focus on now was the debilitating effect the iguana-dog had had on you; evidently, the bile it produced was a fast acting venom with a delayed start, not an acid. Knowing what had damaged you however didn’t help, what you needed now was a cure. You were currently experiencing a wide-array of symptoms, each worse than the last. It had started with mild nausea and sweating. Then came the dimming vision. After that, your breathing had become shallow and laboured. Even if you wanted to see a doctor now, which you didn’t, it wouldn’t be possible; small movements alone caused serious pain to flare through your body, as if your skin was on fire.

The next stab of pain caused you to wonder exactly how much time had passed, it had lost its effect at some point around the dimming vision. Had it been seconds or hours? Was it even the same day or had you slipped into a different one? How long did it take for the various new symptoms to occur?

At some point during your suffering, mild delirium set in. You were stuck reliving the previous battle, except, with each rendition, there was something else out of place. In one battle, you were walking on the ocean’s waves, in another you were fighting the people you’d lost through the years. Finally, you could hear echoes of things you’d heard before while you fired your phaser at imaginary foes. One echo however, was new, something you’d never heard said before. The familiar voice resonated within your thoughts, bringing you briefly back into reality.

“Pavel.” You mumbled upon feeling his arms wrap around you, raising you into the air; it felt vaguely like flying.

“Argh, you stupid, stupid… Hang on, McCoy vill fix zhis.” Chekov stressed frantically. He couldn’t believe his eyes, your skin was almost translucent, revealing the veins and arteries underneath.

“No.” You batted his chest lightly, barely a tap. “I’m fine… don’ need him.”

Chekov wasn’t listening, he was too busy trying to keep you steady as he ran the way to med-bay.

“Don wanna hurt ‘gain.” You argued bleakly through laboured breaths.

“He’ll make you better lyublyu (love).”

“…Docs ’re dangerous.”

“Not zhis one. I promise.”

Fresh waves of pain coursed through you, you writhed against Chekov who tightened his grip on you.

The only indication that you’d reached med-bay was McCoy’s exclamation of, “Good God man.”

“Doctor.” Chekov pleaded helplessly, so sure that he was going to lose the one person he truly loved aboard the Enterprise.

“On the bed.” McCoy ordered.

“Don’t leave.” You whimpered, using your little energy to grasp Chekov’s shirt.

“I’m here lyublyu (love), don’t vorry.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you’ll make my work much easier.” McCoy grumbled sarcastically, hiding his concern for you behind a disdainful tone.

Shouted words turned to fuzzy mumblings and then to nothing as your body finally gave in, though whether to exhaustion or medication, you weren’t sure. McCoy did his best to stabilise you, all the while issuing orders to Kirk and Spock through his communicator; if he was going to save your life, you’d need a different kind of help.

After hours of work, pumping you with endless hypos and chemicals, your survival became a waiting game, relying purely on the success of Kirk and Spock. Chekov stopped murmuring comforting words to you for the first time since he’d brought you in. Fresh tears fell freely from his eyes as he gripped your hand and steeled himself for the question he’d been dreading since the start.

“Vill-” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Vill (s)he make it?”

McCoy sighed, lifting an uncomfortable hand to his face. “I don’t know.”

Although he’d been prepared for the answer, Chekov shuddered queasily. What he really wanted to hear was something along the lines of, “Yeah it looks bad now but it’ll be okay.” or, “(S)he’ll be fine after a good night’s sleep.”

It was foolish to wish for a lie but that was all he wanted to believe. Hearing the truth was acknowledging the likelihood of your death and that was something he simply couldn’t bear. After hearing that, Chekov couldn’t bring himself to ask anything else so he settled for whispering all his plans for the two of you in the future, slipping naturally into Russian as a small comfort to himself.


You struggled to open your eyes, squinting against bright light that forced you to keep them shut for a minute. You didn’t think you had ever felt worse, every muscle ached like it did after intense training, your mouth held the after-taste of vomit, and you could feel extra pain where you knew several hypos had been used; on top of all that, there was a heavy weight on your thighs and you wondered briefly if you’d been paralysed. You fought against the light again, forcing your eyes open until they adjusted. If you’d had the energy to smile, you would have, Chekov was sat on a chair next to your bed, his head was resting on your legs and his usually neat hair was ruffled all over the place.

“Glad to see you’ve joined the land of the living.” Nurse Chapel beamed at you, bringing a large glass of water with a straw in it.

“H-”

Nurse Chapel help up a hand. “No talking. I expect you to drink that first and then you’re going to let me run some tests; when I’m done, you can talk, understand?”

You bobbed you head lightly, instantly regretting the headache it brought with it.

“Good. Glad we’ve come to an agreement.” She passed you the water, making sure you were taking steady sips before scanning your body and talking again. “You know, you’re lucky you got me instead of Doctor McCoy. He’s worked on you for almost 60 hours straight and let me tell you, he’s furious; still, underneath all that crabbiness lies a heart of gold, if he yells, it’s because he cares. Now tell me, do you remember what happened?”

Disjointed memories of your delirium came to you, the only true one being of the iguana-dog. You put down the now empty glass and cleared your throat, ready to test your voice. “Venom?” You croaked.

“Yes, venom that you foolishly tried to hide. Venom that we didn’t have a cure to.”

“How-”

“Spock and Kirk had to ‘liberate’ one of the creatures that did it from the Klingon camp so we could synthesize a cure; I imagine they’ll want words with you too.”

You cringed, the thought of a telling off wasn’t appealing, surely the venom had been enough of a punishment already.

“Don’t worry.” Chapel smiled. “They won’t get to my patient until you’re fully recovered.”

You silently prayed that wouldn’t be for a long time so you could put off the punishment. “What about the iguana-dog?”

“Iguana-dog? Oh, the Triffid that poisoned you?”

You raised an eyebrow at the name.

“Yes, that’s’ in the animal lab being examined, though it made quite the effort to get to you. Spock believes that the scent the other Triffid made the creature friendly towards you; it’s tried to attack everyone else on the ship you know.”

“I always did want a pet that could kill me.” You joked, lying back uncomfortably.

“Well you’ll have to talk to Kirk about that, for now rest, it’s been a long-”

Chekov stirred, mumbling a tired, “Lyublyu (love).”

Chapel sighed sympathetically, “I’ll give you two five minutes together, any more than that and I’m fetching McCoy.”

Chekov stared blearily after her before coming to his senses and turning his attention to you. “(Y/N)!” he grabbed hold of you enthusiastically, quickly letting go when you cried out in pain.

“Shit, do you need a doctor, vater, sleep, tell me and I’ll get help.” He hovered uneasily, clearly ready to run wherever you needed.

“It’s okay, jus’ need a little rest and I’ll be right as rain.”

Chekov stared wide-eyed, unsure of what to say next. He was past anger and elation; right now, he just wanted to care for you and make your recovery his number one priority.

“Thanks for staying with me.”

“Lyublyu (love), I’m never leaving.”

“Good luck with that, five minutes and Chapel gets McCoy to throw you out.”

“I’d like to see him try.”

You managed a weak laugh at Chekov’s bravado, he was swelling his chest out to look bigger. “Easy there Rambo, McCoy would wipe the floor with a toothpick like you. What’s say we leave the fighting to a pro like me?”

“Leave zhe fighting to you?” Chekov tutted. “Zhat’s vhat got us into zhis mess.”

“Alright, alright, then you think you can stay on guard duty while I sleep? Who knows what kind of experiments McCoy’s ready to try when I nod off.”

“He vould never.”

“Wanna bet? I hear he’s pretty pissed at me.”

“(Y/N) please, zhe whole ship is pretty pissed at you.”

“Oh yeah? What about you?”

“I’m zhe vorst of all, unfortunately I’m stupid enough to love you.”

You grinned and continued the conversation, quickly losing track of time. Nurse Chapel watched through the window in the adjacent room while McCoy complained at her about anything and everything he could think of concerning you. “-and on top of that Chekov’s still in there and I know he won’t (Y/N) leave to do his damned job; that’s distraction in the workplace.”

“Oh hush.” Chapel chided. “We both know you’re glad (s)he’s not alone.”

McCoy blustered. “No. I’d be glad if the idiot didn’t fear doctors, I’ve never heard of anything so ridiculous in all my years.” He kept complaining while rifling through drawers, making himself look busy as Chapel listened; she shook her head and continued to observe you, letting McCoy get all his ranting out before he could get to you, though she feared you would still get an earful anyway.

I'm still hurting.

Betty smiled at the little dark haired boy currently staring up at her like she held the moon itself

“And I was just wondering.. maybe you would want to share this popsicle with me? It gots two parts, I could have one and you could have one?” His brown eyes were shining so bright with hope and adoration, there was no way humanly possible she could say no, not even if she wanted too.

His name was Titan James and he was five years old, he was from the Southside and he was Betty’s ultimate fan. Betty adored him more than any child she knew, and Betty was the towns go to babysitter so she knew quite a few of Riverdales youngest. children loooveeedd her. But Titan was special, with his shaggy dark waves and big brown eyes, he was so well behaved it was clear his parents had raised him right, those types of parents were hard to come by on the Southside. Betty babysat for free, the more time she could spend with the spirited boy the better.

She hadn’t meant to run into him, she had come to the park to think, to enjoy the quiet, get away from the obnoxious battlefield that was her home. But looking at the smiling little boy she grabbed the sticky popsicle and planted a sloppy kiss to his cheek, there was no one else she would rather spend her alone time with.

“I would love too Titan, thank you very much.”
He blushed like only a five year old could, and scooted next to her on the soft grass. She knew he had a huge crush on her and she always felt flattered, while he was always sweet to everyone he had promised he would never like a girl, they were all icky and mean. She found herself giggling at the similarities he shared with another dark haired boy. Speaking of Jughead…
He was the number one thing on her mind, the main reason she had had to get away.

She was ruining things with him, slowly but surely pulling away. It wouldn’t work out, she had too much baggage, he deserved better, he had plenty of his own problems and she couldn’t be good enough for him, couldn’t be perfect. Plus… it was impossible to love her, sure everyone loved Betty but no one ever truly “loved” her. She felt her eyes sting and her breath get shaky. Suddenly a tiny hand was wrapping itself around her own.

“Don’t be sad Miss Betty, I don’t like it when your sad. I love you.” Titan spoke slowly and deliberately, punching each word out, trying to make sense of what he was saying.

Suddenly the dams broke and Betty was crying, grabbing the little boy and pulling him into her arms, she pressed him against her body and he snuggled right up, he was used to her cuddles, they lay like this all the time before bed.

“Oh Titan I love you too. So much.” She whispered into his hair “these are happy tears, I’m so happy to know you little one” she could feel Titan smile against her neck, and she felt the ache in her chest ease up.

She was so broken, she thought she was okay, thought she was fixed, but she wasn’t. The ache Archie had left on her heart was still there and even though Jughead was slowly healing all the pain, she still felt it. Every time her mother made a comment about her weight she could feel the hurt getting greater and greater, when her dad would slam out the front door, swearing and cursing the Cooper name, she felt as though she were being ripped open. She was broken and she was still hurting. Squeezing Titan closer to her she closed her eyes.

“Betty?”

Her eyes snapped open at the familiar voice, that would be her boyfriend. His timing was always impeccable. Straightening her messy ponytail and wiping her eyes, she looked up at Jughead, standing their watching the crying girl and the five year old boy cuddled together in the grass.

“Hi Juggie” she whispered finally getting a good look at him, he was a mess, he was beanie less his dark hair a Tousled heap, his clothes were wrinkled and he was sweating like he’d been running.

“What’s going on?” He asked a brow raised “ you texted me “I can’t be with you, I’m sorry I love you.” And that was it? What is going on? Are you okay? I’ve been looking for you for hours.“ He was panting slightly, still curiously looking at the young child in her arms.

"This is Titan” Betty smiled, gently nudging Titan to introduce himself.

Always the gentleman, Titan smiled, sticking a tiny little hand out

“My name is Titan, Betty’s my best friend. What’s your name and who’s your best friend?”

Jughead actually laughed, his panicked eyes finally settling slightly

“I’m Jughead, and Betty’s my best friend too, I guess that makes us best friends by association huh?” Jughead plopped down on the grass next to the pair.

Titan was practically bouncing “you wanna be my friend too? Did you hear that Betty? He wants to be my friend too!”

Betty laughed softly, pulling her wallet out and handing him two dollars “well I would say that deserves another popsicle, you go on and get one, it’s not official until the popsicle has been split” she nodded mock seriously at Jughead, who smiled back

“Oh of course, how could I forget. You better hurry before they sell out bud.” Jughead nudged his head at the ice cream truck by the bathrooms. Titan practically tripping as he scrambled to the truck.

As soon as the little boy was out of ear shot, Jughead grabbed Betty’s hand
“What’s up sunshine?”

Betty’s felt the tears well up again at the nickname, her body aching to just curl into him, by she had to do this, it was the best thing for him

“I can’t be with you Jughead. I’m sorry but I can’t, you need… better. Someone stronger. I’m not…I’m so weak, I’m so.. broken.” She finished off her voice cracking slightly. Suddenly Jugheads hands were on either side of her face and he was cupping her cheeks

“You’re not broken” Betty opened her mouth to protest but he cut her off “ you are not broken, you’re.. chipped, a very easy fix, a little paint and your good as new. I know you’ve been through so much shit, these past few months, I know how hard it’s been. You can talk to me. You know that. But me and you? We’re not breaking up. You’re the best thing to ever happen to me, I love you, I can’t lose you.”

Betty rested her forehead against his, releasing a shaky, relived breath “ I’m still hurting Jughead” she choked out.

She felt his eyelashes brush her face “we all are, we just have to use what we have to ease the pain, we have each other sunshine, always will.”

Betty took a deep breath and looked into his deep blue eyes, she was safe. He could help her, he could make her a little less broken, bringing her lips to his, she kissed him softly. Suddenly they were interrupted by the quick footsteps of their favorite five year old

“I got grapes! Cuz everybody likes grapes.” The little boy was grinning ear to ear as he held the two popsicles “here you go miss Betty, you can have two, because you’re my favorite.” He handed her one of the double pops and she laughed, ruffling his hair. “Thanks bug”

Tearing the wrapper off he split the double popsicle into two pieces, happily handing one to Jughead

“Okay now we can officially be friends, I wanna do a bread!” Titan smiled excitedly

Jughead looked at the brown eyed boy with a confused smile. “A bread?”

Suddenly Betty barked out a laugh
“You mean a toast?”

Titan nodded happily

“A toast! A toast to grape popsicles and .. and love!” The little boy giggled wildly at Betty, who giggled along with him, the laughter was contagious and suddenly all three of the sticky popsicle holding kids were rolling around in the grass, Jughead had one arm around Betty’s waist and the other around Titans

“To grape popsicles and love” he whispered into Betty’s ear.

My thoughts about episode 7x23

I wanted to say something about episode 7x23. To me, it felt very similar to episode 3x20, because of the concept behind both these episodes, because of their meaning, because of the way these episodes gave us a more detailed and even more powerful picture of what was going on in Steve and Danny’s lives when they first met each other.

Episode 3x20 showed us that Steve lost two of the most important people in his life in an awfully short amount of time: first Freddie, then his father. Feeling this kind of pain, he came back to Hawaii… and he chose to stay. Why? He wasn’t (only) motivated by the desire to seek revenge against who killed his father. We saw him turning down, at first, the offer that Governor Jameson made him. He could have gone after Hesse on his own, without being part of Five-0. He was willing to stay in the Navy, to leave Hawaii again… before listening to his father’s message, before meeting Danny, before finding a family with Five-0. Emotions led him back to Hawaii: the ones he felt listening to his father’s words on that recorder and the ones he felt since the first time he met Danny. Steve was a broken man, he needed to be saved and he knew, he just knew, somehow, that Danny was the person that could save him. 

And Danny. A man who was dealing with a failed marriage and a brand new life started in Hawaii just to be able to be close to his daughter, being constantly threatened by his ex-wife with the possibility that Grace could’ve been taken away from him… we saw more of that in this episode, the way Rachel taunted, tortured him, the way he had to fight for the sacrosanct right to see his daughter, the way Rachel prevented Danny from being properly focused on his job, because only her time was valuable, because she had the upper hand and she just loved to twist the knife in Danny’s wounds.

And both episodes show us Steve and Danny feeling awfully guilty… Steve, feeling responsible for Freddie’s death… he was the one who asked Freddie to be part of that mission, he was the one who couldn’t protect him… Danny, knowing that Makino risked his life calling him, while Danny was too busy dealing with Rachel’s tantrums to pick up the phone…

Steve and Danny had such an enormous weight on their shoulders, such an unbearable pain in their hearts when they met each other…  two broken toys who, since the very first moment, started and never stopped fixing each other, giving each other what they needed the most: Danny gave Steve the family he desperately needed and craved for, Steve gave Danny a home, in the largest and most important sense. They saved each other, they keep saving each other, in the most wonderful way.

Among the many, and all so beautiful and so well done, parallels and references to the pilot and 1x08 episodes, I loved one the most. 

In the flashback we see Danny yelling to Rachel that he needs to do his job to be able to make some money and buy things for his daughter, like some water park tickets so he could spend some quality time with Grace… and in the pilot we see Steve giving Danny his first gift, one of many: three nights at the Kahala Hotel … “I heard this place has a pool, you can swim with the dolphins, just take it”. After all the fights, the efforts, the anger, the pain, Steve starts showing Danny that being loved, being happy, can be the easiest thing in the world, a gratuitous, God-given gift, when the right person comes along.

Fate brought these two people together. Somebody, up there, just knew they were meant to be together. The universe conspired so they could find each other, so that Danny could open that file that brought him to Steve’s house, that brought him to Steve.

And yes, life took so much from them, but it gave them so much, as well. It gave Danny someone who tells Grace and Charlie that their father is the best man he knows, that he’s the greatest man ever. It gave Steve someone who tells him “If something happens, I need you to take care of Grace”, someone who asks him to babysit his little son… They fill each other’s life with so much love, warmth, trust, happiness. They built the most perfect family unit together.

And, even if I hope we will soon see a less emotionally constipated Danny, who he’s not afraid of what he feels for Steve (to the point of thinking about retiring so he won’t have to deal – but he fools himself! – with this beautiful emotional mess that is going on in his mind and in his heart), who he’s not afraid of showing it, I think the last scene of this episode was so, so full of love. 

Danny talks to Makino about the people he met: Chin, Grover, Jerry, Kono… he leaves Steve for last, like, you know? like when you’re eating and you leave that one thing you like the most for last, to savor it, to taste it better. 

He talks about this man, “a bit of a putz, big, gigantic pain in my ass. I used to hate him. I still hate him every once in a while… “ … and the flashback to their first meeting starts… then it stops for a moment, so Danny can tell Makino, with all his heart: “Thank you. Thank you”, and right after that we’re in that garage, to relive that moment that changed their life, that made it so much better, giving them the chance to love, be loved, be happy.

And “thank you” is what I want to say, as well, after watching this episode. Even if I’m still afraid my heart will break if these two won’t get the happy ending they deserve, together. But this episode, and these seven years, proved me they’re worth the risk. And I will never stop believing they’re the love of each other’s life and being sure, 100%, that, like I already said yesterday, the most wonderful love books and love movies can’t stand a chance against what this show created with McDanno.

omg their letters TT^TT

Shim Changmin to Jung Yunho

To the world’s strongest dancing machine Yunho-hyung,

Hi~ hyung, who am I, I’m the ‘Choikang-debut’ (and a bunch of descriptives that OP didn’t manage to catch), your dongseng, Changmin.

At an happy occasion such as this where we get to be together with our fans, and with hyung looking so happy! Yet, I’m forced to share my feelings to hyung in front of all these people, oh, no, it’s to confess, because I deeply love him. But I can’t help but feel a bit annoyed at SM Ent for making me do it, because as hyung knows, I’m shy in front of strangers. But despite feeling embarrassed and put on the spot, I’ve decided to gather my courage and wrote this letter.

We’ve known each other for almost sixteen years now, although so many things have happend in between, I was able to continue to this day because I conquered it all with hyung. We’ve had many days of happiness, we’ve also had a lot of tiring times, no? So that’s why I believe that it’s because I see my big bro who is by my side always embracing everything with your passion and always putting in the most effort that I was able to continue til today.

Everytime I feel the burning of your passion, it feels like a bubbling oil field from beneath the ground, like an oil field in Texas USA… ah… actually, huyung’s massion is even more incredible than that.

Why? Because oil fields dry up eventually, but hyung’s passion is inexhaustable like energy from the sun. So amazing, my handsome hyung (heart❤)

I’m joking, but in truth as long as I’m with my hung who is so much more innocent, more passionate and more kind-hearted than I am, I believe that we can walk together a further, sparkling future!There are too many things I am thankful to you and my gratitude is too great to put into words, even though I knew this beforehand, but I believe that with hyung there’s nothing we can’t accomplish. So hyung is the most amazing hyung! (hoho^O^).

Ok this embarrassing letter is approaching its end. Hyung, don’t get sick in the future, stay healthy! We’re no longer at that age anymore, so don’t dance so much okay? Even though your passionate stage manners and imposing aura is important, but that kind of passion is too much burden. Our bodies, in specific my body is frail, I’m already worried that it might be falling apart. Even though hyung is a solid and a real manly man, but please don’t forget that I’m a frail and tender, will get blown over by a gust of wind, glass-made Seoul-boy.

No matter the time, let’s always be like the way we are now, a group who will expand out of Asia and aim for the world with best stage and best music, all in all, hyung is the best, absolutely handsome, that is all.

2017 September 24, 

The practice was supposed to start at but hyung is late so am writing a letter instead at 6.02pm and waiting for hyung, Changmin 

P.S.: This life I’m going to exhaust my all til the very end, come next life, maybe we can distribute some of that passion to others, I’m not opposed to reliving this life (shy #∀#)

Jung Yunho to Shim Changmin

To the adorable Chandolla:

Writing a letter like this, it’s a bit embarrassing. Though I’m not good with words, but being able to read the letter out on stage, it’s a new experience.

These fourteen years, no, including trainee era is sixteen years now. We met each other as high schoolers, and the time has passed so quickly. The first time I met Changmin you were still innocent, and all this time, be it hard, or happy, crying, or laughing, you always stood silently by my side, I’m so~ thankful.

Actually, our styles are not the same, and personalities are different as well, us two being TVXQ together is not an easy thing, but when I’m with Changmin, there are always more happy days than hard and trying ones.

When faced with times of adversary, there’s no despair, you always continue on silently in your own way. As time pass I’ve come to understand that this is the real you, who shares the same values as me, and even during hard times always act like it’s fine. Hyung is not very good at expressing feelings, so even if it’s embarrassing, I wouldn’t have made it on my own, because you were there, I was gained so much more strength.

2010 at the CB stage in SMT, was probably the most nervous time bar none, when I held your hand, I had felt, maybe the two of us can set foot on a new path.

Before army service at the Japanese live, I cried like a child, That time, you patted my back and comforted me, right? Changmin seems to have become more dependable than hyung, you make me grow in ways like a rival would, stays by my side like my family would, calming me, looking at you who forces me to turn and re-examine myself, I feel like I’ve grown as well.

TVXQ is almost 14 years old. We who have grown up in the army seem to have become more mature, from now on let’s continue being the charismatic TVXQ, ok? 

Thank you, love you, Changmin-ah! 


170930 Your Present in Seoul

*** translated from a fan who went to live and transcribed their letters to chinese***  

Halloween Party // An Avengers Imagine

“T-minus three hours people!” You called as you ran towards the evening room where you found Pepper instructing decorators in a princess costume. “Where’s Tony and Banner?”
“The lab, what are you supposed to be?” She asked as she put the clip board down and picked up her martini.
“Mother Nature? Duh!” You waved your hands over the hard plastic ivy you had bought at a costume store. She chuckled. “Do you need help up here? I could get Wanda or Pietro up here.”
“No, darling, I’ve got it covered. Um, wait a minute, what do you think you’re doing?” And like that Pepper was done talking to you.
Natasha was standing in the lab with another group of decorators when you arrived. They were setting up palstic aliens in tubs of water, zombies walking down the stairs and skeletons crawling on the lab equipment.
“Tony, I really don’t like this,” you heard Bruce muttering as he watched the men and women work.
“Its for the kids Bruce, it will be okay,” Nat reminded him.
“You guys arent ready yet?” You yelled as you walked in the room.
“We’ve got three hours?”
“Exactly, THREE hours.”
“She’s right, Bruce, Tony go start getting ready, get out of my hair. I’ll go change when they finish up in here. Steve, Bucky and the twins ready yet?”
“No idea, I’m making my way around the tower, have you seen the bathrooms by the reception hall yet? Brilliant, Pepper really should have went into party decorating.”
“Wait til you see Clint’s costume, (Y/N), you’re going to love it. Of course, I have to go help him with his make up before the party. Anyway, go find Steve tell him Pepper wants all of us in the room when the kids show up, Wanda and Vision are down in the kitchen, helping the catering team set up, plus Wanda made a ton of those pinterest recipies, she was up all night.”
You made a mental note to go downstairs and see if Wanda needed someone to sample anything, but first you had to find Steve. You noticed light coming out from under the door to the conference room. You slowly made your way to the door, you heard soft voices coming from behind it.
“She’s young, we don’t know how erratic she can be yet.”
“But you know how excited she is for this party Steve, she has been talking about it since August when we started planning it.”
“I’m just saying, for the safety of the kids, can we really trust her not to go off the deep end.”
“Yes. We can.” A third voice spoke, and you pushed the door open.
“Were- You’re talking about me.”
Steve sighed and rubbed his cheek.
“(Y/N) it’s not anything personal-”
“No you just think I’m a cold blooded killer, I get it.”
“NO, honey, no.” Pepper assured you.
“Steve was just saying he thought you might be a liability. As much as I am. You’re new, you haven’t been allowed around large groups since we found you. If it makes you feel any better, Steve almost wouldn’t let me go.”
“Buck-”
“We can sit in the corner together and behave.”
It was your turn to sigh, you stomped your foot.
“I am older than every one of you here, I am going to this party and you can’t stop me.”
“You’re 16!”
“I’m 175 jerk.”
Bucky laughed. “She’s got you there.”
“Fine you can go, but-”
“Oh thank god, thank you so much. I will be on my best behavior. Nat wants ya’ll in the evening room at six.”
You didn’t wait for them to change their minds before running away to finish your costume.
_______________________________________________________
Everyone stood waiting for the bell to ring and the children to be let in. Natasha was a ballerina, Steve a base ball player. Thor had a little trouble grasping the concept so he was a prince, and Clint, well, Clint was a clown. Red nose and everything. Bucky was wearing a long cape, a red button up shirt, you approached him cautiously, and before you could ask, he smiled to reveal a pair of plastic vampire teeth. You snorted and covered your mouth.
“I oughtta smack you.”
“But you won’t.”
Wanda rushed in almost late in a flapper costume, her brother was wearing a Flash costume.
“But you get it right?” He kept asking. Thor, Steve and Bucky did not get it.
“What is Vision?” You quietly asked Wanda.
“He’s a butler.”
“Oh my god, why though.”
“Im here!” Another voice shouted and Sharon ran in the room in a blue dress with braided hair.
“Because he used to be Tony’s butler.” Pietro interjected.
“No he didn’t!” Before you could finish, the door was opening and kids were rushing in.
Tony stood up, gave a short speech then lead the of all ages to the evening room where the games and food were all set up. Music was playing, kids were laughing, this was the best possible way to spend your first Halloween.
Steve, Pepper and Natasha watched you playing with the children, going in and out of the photobooth with different little girls and even helping with face painting.
“I told you. I told you this was her element. She never got a chance to grow up, this is exactly what both the kids and she needed,” Pepper assured him.
Finally it was time for trick or treating, every Avenger went to seperate rooms which were decorated to match their costumes.
Your room was a dark forest, dark greens and browns, creepy plants and insects; Natasha’s was an empty ballet studio, broken mirrors, a robotic black widow scampering across the mirror; Steve’s was a baseball field and Bucky’s room had an open coffin and fake bats hanging from the ceiling, a red silk sheet against the backwall made the room glow eerily. Bruce was in the lab, he was a mad scientist. Sharon’s room had piles of white foam snow and snowflakes hanging midair, Wanda’s and Tony’s room looked likea speakeasy, as the latter was supposed to be a gangster. Thor’s adn Pepper’s room was decorated like a castle and a ballroom.
At dinner, the kids were fighting over who you’d sit with, you ended up sitting with kids who were your physical age, which to you seemed so wild. You hadn’t been around someone your own age in decades, and you were worried they would scorn you like in the movies, but the welcomed you with open arms and filled you in on all of the celebrity gossip. A photographer was going around and taking plenty of pictures of each group.
You looked over at Sharon who was surrounded with little girls, a few of them in a matching ice queen costume or a green and yellow dress. This was an experience you wanted to relive over and over again, and your heart was swelling with happiness when you realized that you would get to relive this, and one year, girls will run in costumes that resembled you, much like the boys that came in in Captain America or Iron Man garb, or the girls in the Black Widow uniform.

Sometimes Shiro bolts upright in the middle of the night, covered in sweat and chasing away dreams of the gladiator arena. He’s remembering more and more these days.

Sometimes Keith knows. Shiro never asks how, he’s just relieved when the door to his room slides open to reveal a familiar figure. Relieved and guilty.

“Shiro, are you okay?”, Keith asks in a low, concerned voice. Shiro doesn’t know the answer so he says nothing in return. It’s too dark to made out the details, but he’s almost certain Keith is frowning at him.

Stop it, his mind warns him, you’re worrying him. His throat is impossibly dry so his voice is raspy when he finally says, “I’m fine.” It didn’t sound convincing to his own ears, so it’s no surprise when Keith only comes closer.

The closer he gets, the more Shiro longs for Keith’s touch and the more he reprimands himself. You made the rules, his subconscious reminds himself. As if he could ever forget that day. It can’t be like before, he’d said, we have a job to do. Keith had looked at him that day as if he didn’t know him. But if anyone could understand duty before self, it was Keith.

Beautiful, selfless Keith that was currently crawling into bed beside him. Shiro groaned his name in warning, but it didn’t deter the other man.

Usually Shiro could swallow down feeling like this, keep their relationship at arms length, but on nights like this it was hard. He didn’t like to remember that year he was captive, but dreams had a way of pulling everything to the surface. It felt like reliving something that never happened, something you wished wasn’t true. He felt rattled.

So when Keith’s warm body slide against his, his arm coming around Shiro’s waist to pull him closer, Shiro didn’t protest. They were facing each other, close. Too close, Shiro thought. His Galra arm was over Keith, but he never seemed alarmed by it. In fact, Keith had relaxed into the bed instantly, his breath steady and even between them.

Shiro’s own frazzled nerves were calming down in response, and the cold grip of the nightmare started to release. There was something in the way Keith held himself though, almost like self-preservation that made Shiro wonder.

Keith’s eyes were normally honest, and Shiro found that most times he could read his mood from a simple glance. But tonight, his eyes seemed guarded, even as he ran his fingers along Shiro’s side, making him shiver.

He expected to be sent away, Shiro finally realized.

“Just for tonight.”, Keith said. It wasn’t a plead, but a bargain. Shiro wasn’t sure who had moved, but they were just a breath apart now, and he knew what came next.

“Just for tonight.”, Shiro agreed, for the umpteenth time.

Tuesday.

A post-ep one shot for Monday, written beta-less for @txf-fic-chicks post-ep/missing scene challenge. This one is for Kristin. She knows why.

He grabs Scully’s elbow as soon as Skinner’s door edges shut, desperate to grasp her firm angles and so rewrite his last sensory memory of her, warm hand on his dying chest, with his living breathing partner. She looks at him like he’s insane. She’s looked at him like that a hundred times in the last hour as his always questionable testimony was distilled from a barely plausible chain of events to him saying over and over, “I just knew”. Scully can’t apply science to his gut, and Mulder wishes there was some way for him to tell her that he’s lived the same day 24 times and watched her die 24 times and that all he can think right now is that she’s alive, they both are, and please, please, never let him live that Monday again.

He’d slept like the dead last night, passed out on his couch under the weight of two dozen heartbreaks, and woken convinced another was on its way. His commute had been surreal, the newspaper headlines telling him Tuesday seeming just a cruel trick, until Scully had brought reality through the basement office door, red hair and rosy cheeks telling him that it really was over. He’d wanted to hug her then, to close the distance that Diana and a thousand almost arguments have opened between them but when Scully had met his gaze, he’d realised she didn’t remember; that all those Mondays, all those desperate goodbyes as Bernard’s hand had dropped finally, fatally to that killswitch, were his burden to bear. And so he’d told Skinner, with a nonchalance betrayed only by the clench of his hands in his lap as he relived that explosion over and over again, Scully flying boneless away from him in a marble framed inferno, that he “just knew”.

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anonymous asked:

hello, im kind of new so im sorry if you did this already but amnesia fics pls!!!! thank you so much!!!! 🤗

Here You Go:

Take My Hand ( And My Heart And Soul ) by bananasandboots [ 1/1 | English | 45,623 ] *

Or, the one where Harry hasn’t spoken to his best friend in sixteen months and can’t remember why.

Fugue by iwillpaintasongforlou [ 1/1 | English | 16,492 ] 

Harry falls asleep a 17 year-old who lives in Cheshire and is probably rockstar Louis Tomlinson’s biggest fan. He wakes up 24 with a wedding ring on his finger, two kids, and Louis Tomlinson attempting to wake him up with a blow job. The doctor calls it organic retrograde amnesia, says he might never get back the last seven years of his life. The only thing that feels the same is how he feels when Louis touches him, and maybe that’s enough to make him fall in love all over again.

( Don’t Forget ) Where You Belong by rippedgloves [ 1/1 | English | 38,682 ] 

Or, the one where Louis wakes up from a coma and doesn’t remember Harry.

Stay To Remember by mikke [ 3/3 | English | 51,281 ] 

Or the one in which Louis suffered from brain trauma, causing him to lose his short-term memory every morning. Featuring Niall as the one who stays, Liam as the one who understands, Zayn as the one who leaves, and Harry as the only one Louis really, really needs to remember.

The Little Things That Keep Us Going by panda_bear21 [ 10/10 | English | 46,166 ]

Harry wakes up in the hospital, unable to remember his children’s first steps, their hugs, their stories. Or the soft way their babysitter always used to smile and laugh with him. He knows he’s not recalling something important, a lot of things that are important. But he wants to know what they are so incredibly badly… wants to know why his heart is set ablaze, warm and fluttering, every time Louis looks at him.

Always by JamieJam93 [ 24/24 | English | 85,327 ] 

Thousands, if not millions, of fans had been right. Harry and Louis had been in love and together for four whole years. They were ‘the dream team’; the couple that made others sick while simultaneously envious. But thousands of fans had been right about something else too. The pressure had been too much. The fame had been too much. The closet had been too much, and, four years after the pair swore to each other that nothing could break them on the night of their first kiss in 2010, they broke up. Fast forward to 2018, on the night of One Direction’s last ever concert, and Harry has yet to move on. It’s not as sad as it seems-he still lives his life and, for the most part, he’s happy-but he knows that Louis was his one true love and is trying to prepare himself for a life completely without the other when an accident erases Louis’s mind of all of his memories. In reliving the moments with him, trying to make him remember, Harry comes to find that maybe he never really forgot them at all and maybe, like him, he hadn’t moved on either.

I hope these are okay! - Happy Reading! :)

Gentle Touch | Sam Holland

Summary: One day, the reader catches Sam Holland playing the piano. She falls in love with his gentle touch, stating that she could listen to him play for hours on end. When caught in the moment, the reader asks if he could teach her a few things and the boy sheepishly agrees . Together, their fingers entwine with one another’s and dance across the grand piano…

Warning: none

Pairing: Sam Holland x reader

Type: Oneshot

Requested: @sebastianstan-theman

MASTERLIST

Originally posted by f--o--r--e--v--e--r

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Writing Comparison Series : Ri

Writing Comparison Series:
E:  Lanterns
Nao:  12 Shutter Clicks


Posting this on mobile. Hope it works.

–R.I.

Characters: Jumin, Jihyun, MC | Warning: Angst


[ All that I Have ]

by R.I.

Click.

Jihyun chuckled, peering at MC through the lens. She stopped short in her steps, turning around with a wry smile, her white sundress twirling with her.

“Jihyun, we came here for a vacation together,” she huffed, placing her hand against the camera lens.

“That’s why I’m taking pictures. I’m only acting like the tourist I should be,” he countered, gently removing her hand from the camera—because it’s pretty damn expensive, and he didn’t want the lens to be dirtied, nor did he want to scold MC for it. No, he would never say anything that could possibly hurt her feelings.

She raised her eyebrows at him, a pointed look upon her face. “Jihyun,” she began in a low, threatening voice. “I am fully aware that you’ve taken nothing but photos of me throughout this entire day.”

His lips curled into a pout, turning off his camera as per her command. “But MC, you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid my eyes upon… As a photographer, I can’t help but want to capture your beauty.”

Despite her eyes being narrowed into a glare, the blush on her cheeks was unmistakable, and Jihyun felt himself smile at the sight. His fingers itched to capture her expression, but he held back for her sake.

…Click.

[ Warning: No more pictures to show. Please scroll back! ]

Jihyun furrowed his eyebrows at the red words on his camera. Wait, what…?

The sound of footsteps approaching made him turn his head, causing him to snap out of his daze. Footsteps? …Where’d MC go?

“Jihyun,” a familiar voice called him. A hand reaches towards his camera, covering the picture. His turquoise eyes frantically snap towards the speaker, focusing on none other than Jumin Han.

An impish grin makes its way to Jihyun’s face as he recognizes his best friend. “Jumin…? What are you doing here? Did you follow MC and I to Hawaii?” he chuckled.

The warm summer breeze swept both men’s hair gently as a tense silence filled the air.

“Jihyun… You’re not in Hawaii. This is a hospital room,” Jumin murmured softly, pained eyes staring straight in his best friend’s confused ones.

Ba-bump.

Jihyun’s heart throbbed in pain at those words. He shook his head, a crazed smile upon his face. “No… look around you, Jumin. What are you talking about?” he replied in friendly banter, cocking his head. He held up the camera for his friend to see. “Look! I just took a picture of MC under the sun, it turned out beautiful!”

Jumin’s eyes fell to the camera screen, a deep frown tugging at his lips.

“…She’s not in the picture, Jihyun. She’s not in any of these pictures on the camera.” He said this with great sorrow in his voice, closing his eyes to hold in the tears prickling in the corner of his eyes.

The turquoise-haired man quietly retrieved his camera, scrolling through the pictures again.

MC really wasn’t in any of the photos.

Oh, that’s right… she’s already been gone for a while.

Every single photo was just another beautiful landscape… Not his beautiful wife.

Realization began to sunk in, as the clear blue sky morphed into a bland, white ceiling… confining walls taking the place of noisy streets… the heat of the sunlight turning into a mere open breeze from the window.

He’s not travelling the world. He’s in a hospital.

He’s not with MC. He’s under constant surveillance of hospital nurses.

Everything… was merely an illusion.

A hallucination.

Jihyun shakily reached towards his own face, finding that it was wet with tears.

In a soft voice, Jumin began to explain tentatively… even though he already knew what the outcome would be. Truth was, the medicine was causing him to have hallucinations…

“Jihyun… you’ve been looking through your camera roll every day… MC won’t be there. I’ve already removed every picture you had of her. It’s not good to think about her everyday,” he murmured, a deep sadness sitting in his eyes. “We all miss her, but it’s only sending you into breakdowns every time you’re reminded of her. Forget her, Jihyun. Please.”

Angry eyes turned at the dark haired man. Tears filling his vision, Jihyun seethed at his best friend, “I will never forget her. You wouldn’t understand how I feel, Jumin. You’ve never fallen in love with anyone. You’re a heartless bastard. Who…” he choked on his words, the hurt overwhelming him. His voice trembled even as he continued to grieve, “Who gave you permission to touch my camera? Why would you take away all that I have left of her?You’ve stripped the beauty from every last photograph. You’ve destroyed them! No… no, you’ve destroyed me, Jumin.”

Jumin’s eyebrows were knit together in frustration, expressing his uncertainty. What could he do? If he argued back, it might only further upset his friend and worsen his condition.

It… it had already been a full year of this. Walking into the hospital to visit his best friend, only to get screamed at, verbally abused without being able to defend himself.

It really did hurt, to see his only friend since childhood end up like this. They had been together all throughout the years, supporting each other in everything, even as they grew up and led lives of their own. Even as they met new people, they still stayed by each other’s side. Jumin had always cherished his memories with Jihyun, proud of their long-lasting friendship.

All their playdates as children, discovering new facts together through books, writing letters to each other thinking they were oh-so-mature… excitedly telling each other about their crushes, begging the other’s father to forgive them whenever one got in trouble… getting homeschooled together, studying to enter the same university, going through their first public schooling experiences beside each other… meeting Jihyun’s first girlfriend, building the RFA, growing their own businesses… The list could go on forever because… God, they had been through so much together.

Jumin could never relive any of those moments, he knew that. He was completely, painfully aware of it. Regardless, he wanted to continue supporting his best friend, even in this state.

Honestly, Jumin had almost had a heart attack when he first received the news last year, that there had been a plane crash. His private plane had collided with another’s, who had taken off incorrectly just as theirs was landing. According to his information, Jihyun had broken his legs in the process of trying to save MC from being crushed under the weight of the other plane.

However… he had failed. A fallen plane wing had sliced his legs in half, while his wife suffocated to death just out of reach.

Jumin couldn’t even imagine suffering through that. Watching the love of your life die right before your eyes, while a part of your own body was being ripped off, was an unbearable physical and mental pain. And Jumin Han felt gravely responsible for it, because he had been the one to lend a private plane to them, thinking it would be more efficient.

As he looked over to his best friend, he knew that Jihyun was recalling the horrific events… again. Day after day, the memories haunted him, taunting him that he was still alive while his wife…


“J-Jihyun!!” she sobbed, reaching for him, tears welling up in her eyes. She helplessly reached out to her husband. To help her? To help him? It didn’t matter, everything was a mess and the only thing she could clearly focus on was her husband’s pained scream.

“AUUUUGHHH!“ he cried out, pain overcoming his entire body as he fell back. The heavy material that had fallen had cut deep into his lower legs from its weight and force behind it. His breaths were ragged and he forced himself to turn his head. Where was MC? Where…? He could hear her whimpering, but…

His eyes fell upon her petit body under the comparatively massive broken jet plane. Oh God, nononon-

His heart stopped when he saw her eyes roll back and shut, her head lolling back.

His scream for his beloved wife was louder than anything within this chaos. “MC!”


Every day, Jumin Han regretted his decision. His best friend was devastated, his mind practically broken from the traumatic events. Although he never mentioned it to anyone, Jumin would cry to himself at night, begging the gods to forgive him for his sin and wake him from this nightmare. To bring back his friends. To undo his mistake.

But no. He would have to swallow it down and live with this pain for the rest of his life. Jihyun was suffering an even larger burden that Jumin could never even begin to imagine. Who was he to complain?

He stepped out of the room, not wanting to cry in front of Jihyun. Leaning against the door, he covered his face with his arm to hide his teared up eyes. “MC… if only you were here to make this all better,” he whispered hoarsely.

Wiping at his eyes with the sleeve of his arm, he hardened his stare on a nurse. “Excuse me, please take away the patient’s camera,” he ordered in a strained voice.

Jihyun’s eyes widened as he heard the demand, desperately clutching onto the camera only to have it snatched from his hands.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Kim, but you must understand that this is the best thing for you,” the nurse explained firmly, almost apologetically.

“Don’t take away all that I have left. You can’t take my camera away from me too, Jumin. You can’t do this to me… you can’t!” Jihyun was slamming his fists against the bed, even as the nurses tried to restrain him, as he begged his best friend to return his camera. He had already lost the love of his life, the remaining photos of her, and now even photography was being taken away from him.

His turquoise eyes flashed darkly with anger as he stared into Jumin’s eyes. “I hate you,” he whispered hoarsely, with the voice of a broken man.

FIN.