and i hope that it's as light on everyone else's screens as it is on mine


IMAGINE: Steve and (Y/N) broke up a while ago. Since they broke up, they managed to salvage their friendship. Steve, being Steve, decided to set her up with one of his friends. It was the right decision though wasn’t it? So why was he feeling all these emotions when he saw them together? 

[gif is not mine. hope you guys enjoy it -let me know what you think]

word count: 1.6 k+ 

The road to love has its ups and downs. You may break up, move on, meet someone nice spend a few years with them…but eventually, you may realise that the person that you’re meant for you already dated them. Like the cliche, if you’re meant to be, you’ll find a way back to each other.

“I still cannot believe that you’re setting her up with someone!” Sam exclaimed as he loudly placed down his glass. “Natasha agrees with me.” The woman in question nodded as she too sat down. “I thought you guys were going to be together forever.”

Steve shrugged, sipping his drink, “I guess it wasn’t just meant to be.”

“Bullshit!” Sam yelled. “That’s utter bullshit.” Steve arched a brow and looked quizzically at his friend. “What? Look, everyone knew that you guys were great together and everyone thought that you would end up together. You seemed so in love with each other.”

Steve sighed loudly and readjusted his seating position. He took a deep breath once again, “Look Sam, (Y/N) and I were great together, but sometimes the road that you’re both on just ends because you’re just too different, or timing.”

“So if it wasn’t for timing you guys would be together?” Natasha asked.

Steve looked at (Y/N) who was now currently laughing with his close friend. There was something stirring deep down inside him and he didn’t know what it was. He looked at the people standing side by side. He smiled despondently at Natasha and Sam, without a word he raised his glass up and downed his drink.

The two friends looked at each other worriedly. Without another word, they too drank their drinks in solace.

“So are you ever going to call him back?” Steve asked as he poured her a coffee. He looked at (Y/N) who flipped her head to the side, she scrunched up her nose and shrugged. “(Y/N).”

“Steve,” she smiled as she picked up her coffee. “He’s a great guy.”

“If he’s such a great guy then why don’t you call him back?” He passed her a donut, and started eating one himself. Steve watched as (Y/N) silently took the donut and started picking at it. “Why are you picking at your donut? You only do that when you’re nervous. Wait…why are you nervous?” A second passed. “YOU LIKE HIM!”

She made a disbelieving noise and dropped her donut, “Psh! No,” she shook her head. “Definitely not.”

Steve dug out his phone, “(Y/N), I know you better than anyone could ever know you.” He slid the phone to her, “Now, call him.”

“I don’t like him Steve,” she replied back defiantly.

“Say his name.”


“Say his name,” Steve said again.

“Robert,” she spoke. Just as he was starting to doubt his theory, a small smile started appearing on her face.

“Aha!” He accusingly pointed a finger at her. “Call him.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and picked up the phone, she unlocked it and scrolled through the contacts until she found Robert’s name. She showed the dial screen to Steve, as soon as she heard Robert’s voice she started speaking.

As Steve watched his former love talking to her possible new love, he felt a small crack in his heart. He stood up straighter, wondering why he was feeling these emotions right now. Things were surely over them, wasn’t it? But as he watched as (Y/N) smiled and laughed at whatever Robert said, the crack began to get larger as time wore on.

“Why are you here when she’s over there?” Tony pointed to the dancefloor where (Y/N) was currently dancing with Robert.

“I’m not sure if you got the memo Tony, but (Y/N) and I broke up a year ago. They started dating six months ago.” Steve explained as he gulped down another whiskey.

Tony made his infamous disbelieving face. “So?”

“I’m not you Stark. I have morals.”

“Morals, shmorals. When it comes to true love, nothing matters except getting the person in your life,” Tony elaborated.

“You have the weirdest morals.”

“At least I’m not watching the love of my life be with someone else.” Tony to prove his point, looked to where Pepper was. Like the movies, she looked at him when he looked at her. She raised her glass and gave him a soft smile. “Go get your girl back before you see her walking down the aisle, and it’s not you she’s walking towards.”

Steve looked up to where (Y/N) and Robert were still dancing. How many dances were they going to do? “We’ve both moved on.”

Tony looked disbelievingly at Steve, then looked at the scene where the other man was staring. He looked back at Steve with a fond smile, “Have you though?”

“So you and Robert, huh?” He walked up to her, a glass of whiskey in his hand for her. She turned around from the balcony and smiled at him. Her hair flowing, he could see the goosebumps appearing on her skin. He passed her the glass and shook himself out of his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders.

“Thanks Rogers,” she smiled at him and tightened the jacket around her. She looked back at the New York skyline, fixated on the twinkling lights. “Me and Robert.”

Steve coughed into his hand, “How are you guys going?”

She tilted her head from side to side, she took a sip from her drink. “If you put our relationship on paper then,” she blew out a breath, the air fanning her bangs to fly upwards. Steve chuckled at the action. (Y/N) swirled her drink around, pouting and then chugging it. She took the glass in her hand and started scratching the design on the glass.

He bumped his hips against hers, “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

(Y/N) looked at Steve, a small smile appearing on her lips. “Did you know that he hates it when I talk during documentaries, especially the nature ones? Or how I weirdly dance in public places? Or how I talk to my cats? ”

Steve smiled against his will. He remembered all of those weird quirks she had and more. He treasured all of them, well because, that’s what made her (Y/N). “Yeah, I remember.” He smiled at her, and she smiled fondly at him.

“Don’t you think that people should wait for the people who doesn’t just tolerate or tries to change you because of your little quirks, but actually kinda likes them? Smiles fondly because of them? Isn’t that the person you’re supposed to end up with? The person you wait for all your life?” There was an emotion in (Y/N)’s eyes that he’s only ever seen once before. Sadness.

He wanted to say something. This was the moment that could make or break them. That could make them have the future that they’ve always wanted together, or just be friends and always wanting that something extra. Steve took a deep breath and decided to go for it.

“Maybe the person that you’re waiting for is ready now.” He turned to look at the skyline, afraid of meeting her eye.

However he could see from his peripheral vision that she bit her lip. She put a finger on her lip, “I think he is as well. Although, I think he might need to wait a couple more weeks, there’s just something I need to do.”

Steve moved closer to (Y/N), “I’ve waited all my life for her. I think I can wait a couple more weeks, I mean we have the rest of our lives.”

He watched as (Y/N) laughed while on the dance floor. Steve felt his chest tighten as he saw her laughing carelessly.

Tony clinked his glass with Steve’s, “I have to say, kudos Rogers. Kudos.” Steve smiled at his friend, and for the first time they felt a bond between them.

Steve looked on as (Y/N) saw him staring at her, excusing herself she moved towards him. She picked up her dress and started walking quickly towards him. “Are you seriously going to stand here by yourself all night?”

Steve shrugged as he looked at her. She was beautiful under the lights, a small smirk on her face. “I want to dance with you, come on.”

She pulled his right hand, the object on her left hand glittering under the light. It was much like the lights he often looked at outside in the balcony. “I’ve already danced with you.”

“First dances don’t count,” she looked at him pointedly.

He laughed as he felt her pulling him towards the dance floor. “I have the rest of our lives to dance with you.”

She pulled him closer to her, her arm wrapping around his waist. They moved together as one. “But I want to have as many dances as I can with you Mr. Rogers.”

Steve smiled down at her, his left hand rubbing her back. The metal ring gliding across her back. “I promise you’ll have as many dances as you want, Mrs. Rogers.” She smiled the only way people truly in love smiled. Like they were looking at the person in their arms like they were actually the whole world.

They moved together across the dance floor, her hand that held the engagement ring he gave her five months ago, and the ring he gave her just a few hours ago glittering under the light. Without a doubt everyone knew that they were meant to be. Soulmates that found each other.

He tightened the grip he had on her. For a few moments in his life, he lost the one person that meant more to him. But as luck would have him, they found a way back to each other, and damn anyone who thinks he would ever let her go again.

I can’t wait to see you part 2 // SHAWN MENDES

Overview: Shawn has a side chick and Y/n calls him out over it and the truth is uncovered

Authors note: one or two swear words

It was 5:34 am when I turned my phone on again. I had slept uneasily, my dreams filled with Shawn and this new woman, causing me to wake up and cry all over again. I felt pathetic as the lock screen lit up and I waited; waited to see if he had tried to contact me.

There were 3 messages. One from my phone company and 2 from Shawn. I opened the messages, my eyes blurring with unshed tears.

Hi babe, sorry I had to cut our call off, I love you xx received 9:03 pm.

So I just got back from dinner, still missing you, by any chance are you up? If not love you xx received 1:21 am.

It didn’t make any sense. Did he not realise I knew about his other woman? Did he think I was that stupid that I would ignore the wake up call I just received about our relationship?

I didn’t reply to any of his messages that day. One, because I was mad and two, what was I supposed to say to a man who was supposedly cheating.

I had just sat down on the couch, finally having the guts to text him a short and sweet hey. What I got back however made my stomach sink.

Please don’t tell Y/n about what happened last night. Strictly between us!! you understand me Jessica!?!??

My body froze, the quick feeling of uneasiness settled through me.

Tell me what, Shawn?

My hands fiddled with the blanket as I awaited his response.

Shit, Y/n? 


I swear, I did not mean to send this to you

I huff, anger slowly replacing the hurt. Why won’t he tell me? My phone lights up with an incoming call and I quickly swipe, ending the call. It lights up again. End. Again. End. Once more.

“What Shawn?” I growl, my nails digging into my palm as I try to take out my anger on anything.

“Y/n, Baby, please you have to listen to me,” He begins but I cut him off quickly.

“I never thought I’d be this kind of girlfriend Shawn, but who the heck is Jessica?” I question loudly into the phone. “Why are you going to dinner with her? Why are you hanging up on me to spend time with her and why for goodness sake did you not want to tell me about it?”

“Y/n, please,” Shawn whimpers and I roll my eyes.

“Quit avoiding the questions Shawn and just answer them!”

“I met Jessica on tour,” He says finally.

“Oh yeah,” I try to say, void of emotion but my voice cracks revealing the hidden hurt.

“Not like anything you’re thinking Y/n, she works with Island Records and we have a mutual interest in music,” 

“Gosh Shawn everyone has a mutual interest in music,” I snap, tears flowing down my cheeks. “I thought I could trust you,” I whisper.

“Baby, no you can, please listen to me,” He rushes to say and the connection dies. I take my phone away from my ear to see he’s hanged up on me. I scoff, surprise written on my face. My phone buzzes again, warning me of an incoming face time call.

I hesitantly accept. “Yes,” 

“Y/n, alright, Jessica doesn’t like me,” he says, and I meet his eyes through the screen. His hairs a mess, all astray on his head and he looks tired.

“Sure seems like it,” I say sarcastically.

“Its true sweetie, she likes someone else, the dinner was to discuss tour and what we were planning on doing next with our careers,” his eyes plead with mine to believe him, searching for just a tiniest seed of hope.

“Why she calling you babe then like she’s into you?” I question again, my rage turning into jealousy.

“She calls everyone babe, honey, even Andrew,” I chuckle slightly at this.

“That still doesn’t explain why you didn’t want her to tell me you were hanging out,” 

His cheeks redden and his lips twitch up in a smile.

“Okay well that reaction makes me feel so much better,” I snap, the jealousy burning up again.

“I wanted to keep it a secret from you,” Shawn smirks at my enraged expression. “But you seem to keep second guessing my love for you Y/n,” 

The anger turns to confusion. “What? Shawn if this is some twisted way to say-”

“I love you Y/n,” I blush at his words as he laughs. “So much,” he drags the o out in so.

“Shawn I’m trying to stand up for myself here,”

“I know,” He grins, and he leans over to grab something out of sight of the camera. “So last night I may have got just a little tipsy and I splurged on some items,” he confesses.

“Point is?” I grumble.

“I bought you a wedding ring,” Shawn tells me, biting his lip nervously.

“Say what?” I gasp, my stomach flipping. “You did not,”

He grins sheepishly at me. “I was talking with Jessica and she was just saying how even though we’ve known each other for little under a year, it feels like we’ve known each other for decades and then I wound up at a jewelry store and a diamond ring in my pocket,”

“Shawn,” I mumble, my cheeks burning.

“I can’t help it, my love for you drives me to do crazy things,” 

Dungeons and Dragon (Age)


Because let’s be real, Varric would make an awesome Dungeon Master…

(Pavellan, approx 2500 words, most under the cut)

Varlen stared at the board, his face slack with shock, his hair pulled back into a scraggly bun. A few unruly strands had already sprung free over the course of the evening, tumbling down the side of his face.

“So… wait, I’m what?” he demanded, eyes wide. Varric nodded somberly, barely visible from behind his DM screen as leaned down and hastily scribbled what might have been a sequence of numbers. Or an epitaph. Varlen hated when he started writing like that. It always made him nervous.

Eaten,” Varric repeated, flashing Varlen a whip-crack of a smile. “Sorry, kid. With a dex check like that, purple worm bites, purple worm swallows.”

Mouth open, Varlen watched in horror as his bard, Taliden High-Strung, was removed from his square and placed atop the purple worm’s tile. Around the table, voices rose in a chorus of protest.

“What, so there’s nothing we can do?” Dorian demanded, leaning forward, pensive behind his clasped hands. “A reaction, perhaps? A counter of some description?”

“Hey, you tell me,” Varric said with an easy smile, spreading his hands. “You’ve all got your sheets. Impress me.”

Dorian, Cassandra, Iron Bull, and Josephine peered down at their character sheets, brows furled in concentration. Paper rustled as Dorian leafed through his spells, lips pressed into a thin line. Cassandra and Bull were the first to sit back with resigned looks on their faces. Josephine took a few more beats before letting out a gusting sigh and casting worried eyes across to Varlen.

“Nothing,” she said sadly, as though she had personally failed him. “Sorry, Varlen.”

Desperate, Varlen just nodded and turned his gaze to Dorian. The man was glancing back and forth between a pair of spells, but already it was clear there was little that could be done. Slowly, reluctantly, he eased back in his seat and cast a dark glare towards Varric. “Unfortunately,” he said through clenched teeth, “I have nothing prepared to deal with this particular… circumstance.”

Keep reading

All That Glitters- 8

Pairing: Lance Tucker x Reader

Summary: When the last person you ever wanted to see again comes strutting back into your life, you swear you’ll keep your distance. It becomes much harder to do when you start to remember why you loved him in the first place.

Word Count: 2982

Warnings: Enough fluff to make you puke.

AN: Oh, God. First of all, wow. I’m amazed at the response I’ve gotten to this story and I just gotta say, I’m so happy. You guys are the greatest, I’m so glad you all enjoyed this story and I can’t wait to see how you guys feel about the ending.

Tags at the end.

Masterlist   Part 7

August rolled around faster than you would have liked. With summer ending, it meant you’d be forced to find something to occupy more of your time throughout the school year. The gym hours cut short because all the students had school during the day, and you weren’t sure sitting at home with Donut and pint after pint of ice cream was a good idea. Even if Lance wasn’t part of your life anymore- for the second time- it didn’t mean you had to sit around and be depressed about it. All in all, he was just a man. A man that wasn’t worth the time of day, according to Hope, and you agreed. You needed to move on. This was particularly hard to do when Hope reminded you about the Olympics and your plans to watch them together.

Keep reading

Wicked Games

Scenario: A drunken holiday night takes you into something you swore you would never do. Everyone knows that Friends With Benefits never work.  Someone is going to catch feelings, and ultimately your friendship ruined but that didn’t stop you both from stealing a kiss.

A/N: I’m horrible at fucking summaries. But this is an idea I’ve had for a while now and finally finished the draft for it. I hope someone out there enjoys this.

Genre: Jungkook X Reader

Words: 3777

Warnings: Sexual content

Disclaimer: As always, any gifs used are not mine and belong to their rightful owners!

“If I have to revive you one more time I quit.”

The response Jungkook received back must have not been what he’d expected. A sharp laugh coming from your direction instead as your fingers moved comfortably over the joysticks of your controller. Your current position of hanging upside down off the side of the bed beginning to make your brain swell with pressure. Your character calling out, “Salem!” as Jungkook’s player collapsed on the ground.

“Who’s reviving who here?” you teased.

Keep reading

solo and pair

Yuuri!!! On Ice || Victor Nikiforov/Yuuri Katsuki || Hasetsu, Part X
notes: also available on ao3.
warnings: allusions to polyamory


part ix


A month after Victor’s injury when the cherry blossoms bloom, Nishigori and Yuuko quietly marry in a small ceremony at Yuuri’s family inn.

“God,” Nishigori swears as he and Yuuri wait. They are on the elevated porch on the backside of Yutopia, where the building opens up to a small rock garden and a proud sakura tree that twists pink over the neutral gray stones. “I’m so fuckin’ nervous.”

Nishigori fiddles with his plain cufflinks. He is dressed in a nice black suit that emphasizes his wide shoulders and powerful thighs. Unlike Yuuri’s, Nishigori’s suit is new; Yuuri has worn the same jacket and straight-legged slacks to formal events since he was fourteen.

“Dumb, right?” Nishigori mumbles, as though trying to justify his nervousness. “I’ve performed in front of an audience for years. In front of strangers. I never got stage-fright. But now? When all I’m gonna do is exchange rings and say I do?” He snorts. “I’m terrified.”

Keep reading

Pompeii Chapter 4

[First] [Previous] [Next]


Sakura woke once more with an aching back. She was up before the sun again and she scowled slightly as she rubbed at the soreness plaguing her spine.

She definitely needed to get a mattress today, even if she didn’t get a bedframe. Her poor back just couldn’t take it.

Sakura jumped as a tapping sound filled the darkened room. She walked out of her bedroom and stared at the sight before her in slight bewilderment.

A flock of crows were gathered on her balcony, painting the white-washed floor and rails in a sea of black.

Sakura struggled to remember what a group of crows was called as she strode forward, crouching by the sliding glass door.

They seemed rather docile, truth be told and they were certainly beautiful. The one who tapped, seemingly the leader, had bright red eyes just like the Uchiha cousins.

“A murder of crows,” Sakura said, snapping her fingers as a smile lit her face. “You guys don’t seem too bad though. No idea why Shikamaru thought you were worrisome yesterday.”

The lead crow pecked at the glass again, tilting its head in a, quite frankly, adorable manner.

Sakura stood, wavering only a second before opening the door.

The lead crow squawked at the others and the ravens and crows began lining up in an orderly fashion. Then, one by one, they hopped up to Sakura’s feet, dropping an item there before taking off for the rails once more.

It was the strangest sight Sakura had seen since arriving.

The lead crow came last, spreading its wings and flying up to Sakura’s hand. She watched silently as it landed gently, careful not to prick her with its talons.

The crow cawed proudly, dropping something shiny in Sakura’s free hand before flying off. The other birds followed but Sakura could see them settle in on the powerlines near her house. Another murder awaited them there and they sent up a cacophony of cries.

Sakura prayed she didn’t have any neighbors.

Keep reading

Open Up Sometime

Optional bias // angst/ fluff? 

I wrote this awhile ago and it’s just been sitting in my docs for wayyy tooo long. It’s v angsty and a little fluffy… l o l I didn’t include any names but I thought of DΞΔN a lot when I was writing this and a few other people… Pls be nice to me I’m wayyy too soft for shade tbh 

Can we meet? 5:24pm  


Three words that held more meaning to me than I would like admit. When was the last time I had seen him? Why had I put it off for so long? Allowed things to simmer to a boil for so long? I stared at the screen watching it as if my life depended on the three little words I had finally sent after three weeks of silence.


“Sure. Meet me at the studio in 30.” 5:36pm


Could I really have this conversation now? Was there even a point to the conversation? No. He would continue his life as normal. A silent shadow lurking in the back of my mind. A strong silence that loomed over every move I made. A silence that drowned out everyone and everything surrounding me. A silence I had gladly drowned myself in for so long. I drowned in it until my whispers turned into screams. I screamed until my lungs burned until I couldn’t breathe, all met with the once comforting silence. Met with dark unmoving eyes. Met with nothing but long steady breaths that seemed far too loud for comfort, almost deafening.

I drove to the studio in a silence that was louder than ever. I was always told that silence was necessary for us to recognize the dynamics of the world around us, it was necessary for us to survive. How ironic. The same silence that allowed others to hear things all the more clearly, simply drowned me out into a shattered whisper in the wind. I pulled into the parking lot, into the space I had occupied numerous times, a space that seemed to collect dust in the wake of my absence. Closing my eyes I leaned forward, resting my head on the steering wheel, forcing myself to focus on the small sounds that had always been there. The traffic, the chirping of birds, the sound of my car settling in its temporary home, focused on my oddly calm breathing. I forced myself to make music out of the minute notes of the universe, a symphony of this moment.

A soft knock echoed in the confines of my small car, drawing me out of myself, bringing me back to earth. I sat up slowly, allowing my eyes to adjust to the brightness before turning to meet the dark eyes I knew all too well. His hand came up, motioning to me to follow him into the building. I drew in a deep breath before throwing my door open and quickly making my way into the studio, with my head down to avoid any potential photos being taken.

The studio offered more sound than I could comprehend. Each room we passed held a sense of life and lightness that shone brightly in comparison to the dark outline of the back I could draw with my eyes closed, his footsteps darker and heavier than any sound. When had I drawn him to be so gray? When had his color drained from my view and bled into everything else around him. He was now a beautiful black and white photograph in a sea of vibrant watercolor paintings.

“Sit,” his voice was quiet, yet commanding.

I sunk down onto the couch that held memories of late nights and coffee, that absorbed the lusty ‘I love you’s’ whispered into each other’s skin, that had witnessed the walls I had built up to conceal my emotions break away as if they were made of feathers. As if they never existed. This couch had seen the rise and fall of a relationship others had deemed stronger than ever. A relationship built on an open pit, never meant to last, only meant to consume.

“How’ve you been,” he looked small while asking me this. Like he was afraid of my answer. Was he more afraid of me being okay and happy, or the mental image of me being crippled by an all-consuming sadness? The truth is I had simultaneously been both.

A soft smile graced my lips as I looked into his eyes, “I’ve been okay. You?”

His eyes instantly found a sudden interest in everything in the room, everything but me, “I’ve been living, breathing,” he stated simply, letting out a breathy laugh, “I’ve been as good as I can be.”

I nodded slowly, “It’s okay not to be okay. I hope you know that” my voice was louder than ever, yet softer than our last encounter. I wasn’t a whisper in the back of his mind, nor a loud siren that forced him to acknowledge my presence. I had found a happy medium, that wrapped around the room in soft hues of color, allowing a calm to wash over us.

His eyes shot up meeting mine, his warm brown eyes framed with confusion, begging me to provide him with more context.

I shook my head, laughing quietly at his childlike behavior, “I just wanted you to know that. I know you live in a world where the light upon you is blinding, that all you can see is thousands of eyes assessing your being. So much that you no longer saw me in the picture, I was pushed to the peripherals of your vision, I faded into the sidelines until I became nothing at all. I know that all you feel is pressure resting on your sternum when you sleep at night. That was made clear to me when you tossed and turned in your sleep, a cold sweat breaking out on your neck. I know you want to break free from this omnipotent gaze on you. I know that. I know that because I spent too long watching you from afar. I spent all of our time together viewing you through a telescope, you had always been a million miles away, lost in your thoughts. Thoughts you had never voiced or shared. Everything was concealed and hidden away in a little box. I had spent my time trying to decipher you when I should have spent my time focusing on myself and what I needed.”  

He huffed, rolling his eyes as he bit his tongue in an attempt to not yell at me. This is the face I had engrained in my skin. He was holding back.

“Just fucking say it,” I spat out.

“It’s easy to blame me! You think it is easy to be in the limelight, performing for thousands of fans who have this sense of deep entitlement to you and your creations. You think that I’m coasting by here, when I’m really tearing myself apart each night performing for these people, allowing them to enter my mind and see things through my gaze. You think you know everything! You don’t,” he snapped, his words laced with deep rooted anger.

Although his words hurt, I found myself smiling at him, “Okay.”

“Okay? Fucking okay is all you have to say?”

“What do you want me to say? Do you want me to scream at you? Tear you apart and make you feel terrible? I already did that. I don’t need to rehash my feelings. I took this time apart from you to really think about everything. You. Me. The fans. I thought about it all. Trust me,” I slouched down in my seat, feeling drained.

“I want you to say anything. Anything but O-fucking-Kay. I want you to be brutally honest.”

“I was honest last time we spoke. I meant everything I said, although I should have just told them to you rather than scream them at you. I won’t say sorry. I do mean what I said,” I sat up quickly, scooting to the edge of the couch cushion, “I am more than happy to discuss our last conversation if you are willing to.”

“I’m not good with these kinds of things,” he looked at his shoes, thinking over his words carefully, “Why didn’t you tell me how you were feeling before? Why did you hold in everything for so long?”

I rolled my eyes at him, forcing a smile, “It was all I knew in our relationship. We spent all our time loving each other or holding back our feelings. We never wanted to hurt one another so we just held it in, praying that they would disappear in time.”

“We talked! We talked every damn day! You could’ve told me how un-fucking-happy you were being with me, if it bothered you so damn much,” his words were harsh and uncalculated. Something I had never witnessed from him. His walls were slowly breaking.

“I get it. I’m not trying to upset you. I was unhappy. Not with you, but with our situation. Did you not see the distance? Did you not hear the same silence that has been haunting my dreams for months now? Was I the only one awake to see our relationship falling apart?”

“I was happy with our relationship. I didn’t see anything wrong. I still don’t.”

“How could you? I don’t expect you to see the events leading up to it. You were always gone, on tour, in the studio. I know it is a part of your job, I’m so proud of everything you’ve accomplished. Words can’t describe how happy I have been watching your music grow in popularity. I was fine watching you thrive and achieve your goals so quickly I was. But when you became as equally distant at home as you were while you had been across the globe. I found myself breaking each time I saw your disinterested face, every time I spoke to you with your back facing me. It hurt to see you slip away through my fingers as I tried to latch onto anything that could mend our wounds. Maybe I didn’t try hard enough,” my voice cracked as I reached the end of my speech.

“I-I don’t really know what to say. I’m sorry that I waited so long to have this conversation. I’m sorry that it took me this long to hear you out and listen to your problems. I-I-I just want to fix things. I love you. Where do we go from here,” he was a stuttering mess, his loss for words brought a smile to my face, he wasn’t being overly calculated for once, he was speaking without editing anything out. It was as if the darkness had melted away from his body, the light that once emitted from him coming back full force.

I sat there silently listening to his uneven breathing, I could see the slight tint of red gracing his cheeks and the tips of his ears, “Where do you want it to go?”

“I want to move past this. I want to make you feel as loved as you make me feel. I’m just not sure I’m capable of such affection… fuck… I just want to be with you, isn’t that enough,” he kneeled in front of me his hands resting on my knees as he looked up at me, “I can’t promise I’ll be perfect… hell, I can’t promise much of anything. But you make me want to.”

His eyes bore into mine, reading me like a book, waiting for a response or a telling factor, “Promises don’t promise a happy ending babe,” I joked trying to lighten the mood, “I just want to know I can count on you when it matters. I want to be there for you but I want the same sentiments in return, I’m not trying to be demanding. I just can’t give all of myself and only be allowed to view you through a haze, a perfectly formulated persona. I want to be there for you through the hard times, I want to be the one you come to when things get tough love. I want to care for you on a deeper level than you’re allowing me to. I want to love you but you won’t let me in,” my words were rushed and emotional, tears falling down my cheeks silently.  

“Fuck,” he whispered as his rough hands came up to cup my cheeks, his thumbs wiping away my tears as they continued to fall, “please don’t cry babe, it hurts to see you like this because of me.”

I laughed at myself, feeling embarrassed over my tears. I shook my head out of his grip wiping my own tears away, “I’m sorry for being such a baby, I’m just hurt. I feel like I will never be able to love you fully without reservation. I feel like you’ll never open up to me.”

“I’ll try.”

My nose scrunched up in confusion at his statement, “Try what?”

“I’ll try to open up to you. I will try and make it a habit to come to you instead of bottling up everything and tucking it away in my closet along with the other skeletons,” he crawled into the seat next to me, grasping my hands in his, “I can’t promise I will be good at it, or that it will be natural. I’ll probably be an awkward mess the first few times. I have really dark thoughts that might weigh on you, they sure as hell weigh on me. I can’t promise our talks will be productive or have a conclusion. But I will try for you. Losing you isn’t an option babe. I need you more than you need me,” his cheeks were flaming red by the end of his confession.


“Chill with the okay, I need an answer. Are you good?

“We are better than good,” I smiled leaning in to kiss his cheek, “you’re cute when you blush love.”

“Stoooop,” he pouted.

“Get over it. You’re cute and that’s a fact,” I kissed his pouting lips before tackling him in a hug.

“When did you get so touchy?”

“Since I didn’t see you for three weeks dumbo!”

“I’m not complaining,” he smiled at me brightly before covering my lips with his, embracing me tightly.

Kris Wu: My Time Has Just Begun

ELLE MEN December 2016

Kris Wu celebrated his 26th birthday with the release of his new song. This youth, contradicting and full of endless possibilities, had also begun to understand the real meaning of life and come to an age of accepting regret, therefore having to work even more firmly to treasure time. He said that, his time has just begun.

It was just slightly over half past seven when I had stepped into Shanghai Gymnasium and realised that I was already late. The lights were switched off, and I found myself surrounded by a sea of hundreds, thousands of phone lights. “Happy birthday to you” a medley of high and low voices rang throughout the venue like waves, each subsequent time resounding with increased excitement. This was Kris Wu’s 26th birthday party, and although he had yet to appear on stage, the air was bursting with excitement, as if it was a balloon that would rupture at any moment a scream were to pierce the air. When he finally emerged rising from the center of the stage in a silver jacket, without a word, screams erupted with the force of lava spewing out of a volcano.

I managed to catch several little things about him when I saw him a couple of days ago in the photography studio: The bluetooth speakers which accompanied him throughout (“Use music to change the working environment”), the grey hair with hints of pale purple and sky blue, and his black leather flip phone case, that had several bank cards which looked like something a conservative middle-aged person would opt for. It’s rumoured that fans have tried gifting him [phone cases] in a “more fashionable style”, but he turned them down. Having used the previous [similar styled phone case] till it was worn out, [Kris said it was] “because it was practical”, and thus went to get several of the exact same design, just in case.

From time to time he would gently furrow his eyebrows, and walking amidst the people he would maintain a steady gaze. His gaze was not one which could be easily met; it was polite and distanced. He likes to use declarative sentences, being direct and straight to the point, very rarely containing a sense of uncertainty. He is a person who is used to taking in charge when it comes to making decisions. “Others say that Scorpios are natural-born leaders, and I’m like that.” However he burst out laughing before even finishing off, his brazenness giving in to shyness. He is aware that he appears to possess a combination of contradictory elements: a little new, a little old, a little far, a little near. “Many people feel that I am really cold, actually I have a rather warm heart. Everyone needs to have a second chance to be introduced.”

After the shoot that day, I accompanied him to his next work venue. He had to continue with movie dubbing, and the expected end time was around 2am. He changed into his own hoodie and sweatpants in the car, falling back comfortably into the seats, and time to time hummed and moved to the music. When the staff did not know how to use the airdrop function, he simply reached out to take the other party’s phone and worked it out himself. While watching his fingers dance along the two phone screens, I could not help but think, here is such a joyful 26 year old.

Music is like a switch on Kris Wu’s body, once switched on, it is as if he is powered up by a sudden surge of energy. When I mentioned the “singer” written on his Weibo verification, he let out an exaggerated expression only seen on manga characters and his fingers began to move animatedly. “We’re finally able to talk about my music? Come on, let’s.”

He couldn’t wait to introduce his new song <July>. “From debut till now, this is the music-related work which I am most satisfied with. This is the first time I have put in my all, and was immersed in all parts of making this piece of music.” It is evident where he has invested his time in, and he strongly believes that. “It’s not to say that I haven’t put in enough effort in the past, but if a time limit is put on the creation process, it will definitely have a huge impact on the quality of your final work. So having many films is good, <Bad Girl> which was released last year is good too, now even more so, I would wish for those to be seen as trailers, because right now is where it truly begins.”

He had spent three months completing the composition, recording, mixing and mastering in America. As producer, he had stayed on throughout, keeping close watch from beginning till the end. Talking about it, he sounded like a proud kid. “All of the people I worked with were incredibly outstanding musicians, and one of them was even a two-time Grammy award winner!” During that period of time, he would be in the studio every day from 2pm till 10pm. I asked if it was because that was the time when his voice was at its best, and he pondered for a moment before replying, “I’m not sure about my voice, but I can say that I am most comfortable with that timeframe. Many singers are used to recording through the night and into the morning, but I definitely can’t. Even more so, I can’t do so in the morning – I am not a morning person, the music I have done in the mornings were all in frustration.”

One song, three months - based on his jobs which were scheduled to the hour, is really a luxury. “As an artiste, whose time isn’t valuable? I can film a movie within three months. Actually all this while there have been others who have been buying songs from abroad, but there are very few who go overseas to do production work. Not only would it cost even more time and money, but one would also be faced with many uncertainties. But as long as there are people who are willing to try, why not?” He feels that this has to do more with being courageous. “In the end, what matters is how much you want to do this.”

He then began to explain the different genres and history of development of hip hop music to me in detail. “It is what I love the most, there is nothing else like it.” This was what he concluded his feelings toward hip hop with. “It’s like being unable to extricate yourself after having fallen in love with it. Perhaps there would be no way to do other genres of music, for example if you asked me to do rock, it would be very hard.” Since young, he loved wearing baggy drop-crotch pants and oversized tees, and felt that a little more satire could be included in life. From the inside to his appearance, everything was all a homage to hip hop. “My friends around me all watched, listened, and talked about hip hop. I love every single beat and rhythm, it’s as if it is imprinted in my body.”

Why go to America to produce music? “The most direct reason is that, the quality of music depends hugely on the equipment. Lyrical songs can be done to perfection in China, but when it comes to hip hop or electronic music, there isn’t enough equipment or knowledge about it in China.” He hopes to do the best with all the resources he has. “Not only the equipment, but in terms of producing hip hop music, America has more experience.” The most critical point is of course himself. “During the mixing and mastering, I would ask others if there was any difference between the two? They would not hear any difference, but because I could not choose which was a better version, I would continue on, without sleep, till five in the morning.”

He repeatedly emphasised that <July> is a song which has a “completely new hip hop style, one that has never been seen before”, [and that he wanted to] “present the purest form of hip hop to everyone”. Having a listen, besides having fun, also endowed him with a little sense of responsibility. The new song was only digitally released online, and he felt that it was “very embarrassing” if he were to release a physical copy of just one single. “My goal will always be to spread a type of music, some art, some happiness. I won’t think so much on making profit.” As to how wide a scope of affirmation he wished to have , he expressed that he did not demand of it. “I just wish to convey a work of mine, a music piece which I feel highly satisfied and extremely happy after listening to.”

That day, after driving for over an hour, we were still held up in that evening’s Beijing traffic, inching forward at a snail pace. Looking ahead at the sea of red tail lights, he could not help but rub his eyes tiredly several times, and was starting to get a little restless. “In the car, I cannot fall asleep nor get any rest.” He sighed softly, as the car switched lanes. He was worried that he would not be adequately focused. “I have to complete everything before I can relax, otherwise it would be like carrying a rock in my heart.”

Having returned to China to develop his career for two years, Kris Wu already completed filming 8 movies, and worked with Luc Besson, Stephen Chow, Tsui Hark, Feng Xiaogang and other internationally renowned people. He has graced the cover of almost all the top magazines, and was even appointed brand and product ambassador to Burberry and Bvlgari and several international top labels. View on the music video of his newest song exceeded 1 million within 14 hours of its release. The opportunities and results which other people dream of, he had grasped into his hands, and yet facing all of that, he merely explained that for all that he did, “I like it, I am happy, I work hard, and I don’t let myself down.” He is a little of a workaholic. “The most important thing is that passion, as long as it is burning in my heart, there is no problem which cannot be overcome. The scariest thing for people is to get tired of something.”

Such an answer sounds like the “standard inspirational words of wisdom of idols”, but the solemn expression on his face made others feel that this is truly his attitude towards his long term, demanding career. While working, he can forget that he is cold, hungry, or tired. He sacrificed his freedom for his job, and even when there were misunderstandings, he felt that it was within reason. Everything is fair: You win some, you lose some, and during the growth process he learned an important lesson - as long as one persists in what they genuinely love doing, and put in their utmost effort into doing it, the journey would be much more interesting than the results.

He had just wrapped up filming <Journey to the West 2: Conquering the Demons> not too long ago, playing the part of Tang Sen. To the viewers and himself, this was something which was completely unthinkable at the beginning. “Stephen Chow and Tsui Hark brought out a side of me which I did not know, and I can only say that I was incredibly fortunate to have been able to meet them.” His first meetings with both directors were not a walk in the park: Stephen Chow wanted him to try acting like a person with Parkinson’s disease. “I had no idea that I was able to act out that kind of trembling.” When he met Tsui Hark he had yet to shave off his hair, and both of them were unsure of how his final look would turn out. “There was unease in my heart.”

It’s not a huge deal to shave off hair for a role, even more so when he loved changing hairstyles since his younger days. But his shortest hairstyle was never more than a crew cut, and he had no idea how he would look like bald. Seeing the final result in the mirror for the first time, he merely felt that it was new and strange. “I still look rather handsome!” He just spent a little more time getting used to being bald. “When I woke up in the morning I would still be in a daze, I was used to touching my head, [but now] oh no, why is my hair gone? At night before sleeping, I would always wonder why it was so cold… therefore I constantly kept a beanie on.” Those months led him to have a new understanding of the ability to keep warm with hair. “People with hair really have to thank the heavens.”

After shaving off his hair, he felt more like a monk, and even practiced meditating at home. “I hoped to get into character as much as possible. For example before filming <Mr Six>, at that period of time I maintained a very cool persona, and I conversed with others in strong Beijing dialect.” Filming had taken part during the coldest time of winter in Beijing, staying up overnight outdoors with temperatures below negative ten degrees, and in the daytime having to fly around suspended by wires. He recalled that that period of time was “rather strenuous”, but even more so, clearly could feel a sense of excitement in his heart. “There are many people who were a little afraid of Stephen Chow while filming, but I didn’t feel that at all, instead I felt that his way of thinking was simply… Stephen Chow’s shots make use of abstract ideas, and there are many brief yet brilliant moments as well.”

Kris Wu paused to find the right words to describe what set them apart from the rest. “They can help you make up for the loss of 2%.” What is 2%? “It’s the minor difference in art. At times you may feel that, this is not bad, but actually there’s just a difference of 2%, which can only be seen if one has acquired an appreciation of the arts. People like Feng Xiaogang and Stephen Chow can accurately grasp that point to the fullest.”

He knows that before being able to grasp this “2%”, he would first have the ability and belief to accept imperfections. “You would constantly think, why couldn’t I do better at that time? But that can’t be helped. When I filmed my first movie, Director Xu Jinglei told me that movies are a form of imperfect art, and a sense of regret was necessary.” Right now while filming, Kris Wu simply does not watch playbacks of his scenes. “This has nothing to do with having or not having self-confidence, it’s just that I do not wish for this to impact my performance later on.”

The same goes for music. He loves the feel of performing live at the venue, there are flaws, but the joy that comes from the combination of excitement and fear is something which is most valuable. He has already accepted that “before going onstage, I would definitely feel nervous”, and said, “I will always be worried that I’ll make a mistake, but the moment I step onstage, that is forgotten. Really, I’ve never thought of what I’ve said onstage. When I stand onstage, I enjoy [the moment].” This year, as a model he walked for the Burberry show in London, and before the fashion show began, he inwardly prayed, “Hope that when I walk out I won’t go around in circles and be unable to find my way, and not fall in front of the audience.” Later on the evaluation he received was that he was calm and composed.

Since entering the industry, he felt that he himself did not change much. He liked staying at home before, and now there were even lesser opportunities to go out, “But this is alright, actually I like staying at home and watching movies, it feels like I have the whole "cinema” to myself. When I feel bored I will play video games, and I can make many interesting friends in the 2D world.“ Moreover, he has never felt lonely, as his best friends (t/n: referring to fans) were always by his side from start till end. All around the world, whenever he walked out of airports, there would always be fans waiting. "Wherever I go feels like home, it’s really warm.” They love him, and also understand him. “I have my own way of doing things. At times there would be ten days, or half a month of not posting on Weibo, and my staff would all tell me that that shouldn’t be the way, it’s as if I disappeared into thin air… But my fans know that, whenever I want to say something I would say it. They wish for me to live my life well.”

The only change “Is that I have become old!” He repeated it several times, of course as a joke – since he was young, therefore he talked about age in such a carefree manner. In the face of numerous new things coming towards him at once, he is not greedy, and deeply believes that the ability to say “no” is necessary. “I am extremely clear about what my boundaries are, and I would never let myself do things which I do not like.”  He has also begun to experience the pressure of time. “No one knows how tomorrow will be like, so it is better to view things in the present, not so much of the future. Therefore I wish to maximise the limited time to a better extent, so as not to leave behind any regrets.”

translation: @wu_yi_fan

+sherlolly because...a new set of eyes

This was inspired by @penelope1730’s post here which raised the question as to how long Eurus had had her cameras installed in Molly’s flat and what she would have observed. I found it an interesting perspective to take, so here’s my interpretation of it. I hope you make sense of this. I won’t be surprised if the result is as garbled as my mind currently is. If you came to read it, thank you so much. xx

Specially dedicated to a few people. Firstly, my rock, @sherlollyandshit, who is always the first recipient of my torrent of feels. Thank you for seeing it through with me aways <3 Also, this is for @itwasmycroftbbc who had been nothing but sweet and patient with me while I discussed  the conflicting feelings that had been stewing in my head and heart. Thank you for coming to cheer me up, love <3 Last not not least, @thesherlollyarchive, who has been endlessly supportive and kept me going as I ploughed through this fic which turned out to be very difficult to write. This is for you <3




Cameras  ( also on )

There was a certain sense of excitement when James Moriarty had accomplished this most recent task for her. On the pretext of romantic entanglement (as her second brother liked to call it), James had infiltrated the home of a certain Molly Hooper and had been able to plant the surveillance she had requested. 

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TTYL Part 4

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6

Genre: smut

Word Count: 2,986

Summary: An incredible amount of luck leads to an unforgettable experience on a video-chat website with a sexy stranger.

A/N: Alright, here we go! Let me know what you guys think :) Now we’re getting back onto the “smut” track of the story. Enjoy! <3 ~Ashe

Jess was beyond ecstatic when I surprised her with the new tickets later that night.

“HOW ON EARTH DID YOU GET THOSE?!” She had screamed. She tried to give me money for them, but I insisted that she keep it because they were a gift. I refused to tell her how I got the tickets, but it was quickly overlooked because of her excitement.

We got to the venue early the next morning to ensure we would be close to the stage. Surprisingly, we weren’t the only ones. There were five other girls ahead of us, and we spent the rest of the day bonding and holding spots for each other while we took turns running to the bathroom or going to get food from the nearby McDonald’s. Before we knew it, the line of ticket holders was wrapped around the building, flash mobs were happening, and then the sun started to set. That meant it was time for the doors to open.

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Code Words & Kiss Cams, a Rumbelle Fic

Because this gifset just completely spawned fucking plot bunnies, damn me, damn me and my easily corruptible self. 

The annoying thing wasn’t that he was stuck at a basketball game in Boston on a Tuesday night.

No, he had been thrilled to be invited. Henry had won the tickets at school, and though Gold had offered his grandson money to get better ones, court side even, Henry had been adamant that these would be fine.

Which they were. Except he was sitting in the row beneath Henry, Neal and Emma against the edge railing with nowhere to stretch out his bad leg. As the game started, he breathed a sigh of relief that no one had come to sit beside him.

“Over here, Belle!” 

Or not.

A neanderthal, wearing a visitor’s team colored henley, waved for his date to join him at Gold’s row. There were only two seats open, the ones directly next to him.

Gold did not move so much as muscle to indicate displeasure but Emma patted him on the shoulder. “Better luck next time,” she said in complete understanding. Gold kept his eyes on the game below, listening to his son and grandson hoop and holler in excitement as the Celtics scored another three pointer.

“Excuse me?”

He looked up, ready to say something scathing about being disturbed in the middle of the game, but a woman stood over him, unable to take her seat because his cane had somehow slipped into the crack between them.

“I didn’t want to bother you,” she said earnestly, risking a quick glance at the scoreboard. “But I didn’t want to damage your cane.”

He gaped at her, only remembering how to speak some time later. It may have been four seconds or four minutes but thankfully the first quarter buzzer went off and saved him from further embarrassment.

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Quietus - Prologue

Sequel to Missing - a 707 x MC fan fiction

You pull your coat closer against your neck as the chill of winter bites into your skin.  Thankfully, a black umbrella keeps snow from falling on you and that in itself is some comfort in the bitter cold.  Billows of steam form under your nose as you breathe, your steps tentative as the pavement offered little resistance as a thin sheet of ice threatened to make you slip.

It has been a few months since your brush with an underground organization known as Silence—a name pegged by ethical hackers, since nobody really knew what they called themselves—and things were not exactly peaceful ever since.  

Today, Jumin has assigned two bodyguards to pick you up to attend the RFA meeting in C&R’s penthouse suite.  Although you assured the man that you carry a gun with you at all times, you and your husband welcomed the gesture since extra protection for the members will never hurt.

It has also been a week since you have heard from Vanderwood.  As much as Saeyoung wants to deny it, he finds himself worrying about the man. Vanderwood was tasked to track down the remaining Silence members to ensure the safety of everyone in RFA, and it’s disquieting that there had been no reports since last week.  This prompted the RFA leader to call a meeting in order to ensure RFA’s and its guests’ safety—the association’s yearly party is just a few months away, after all.

Briefly looking at your wristwatch, you feel self-assured by the fact that you will be arriving 5 minutes early.  As you have learned from being with the RFA for more than a year, the C&R director does not take kindly to tardiness.  The familiar entrance of the C&R building welcomed you as you lifted your gaze from the pavement, and you made your way up the steps towards the door.

Once inside you almost sighed in relief as the building’s heating system welcomed you when one of your bodyguards held the door open.  You stepped inside, and was greeted by a pleasant smile by the receptionist.

“Welcome, Mrs. Choi. Mr. Han and the others are waiting in the penthouse,” she greets.

“Thank you, Ji-eun,” you smiled back.  “I love how you did your hair today.”

A slight blush tinted the receptionist’s cheeks and she gave you a genuine smile.  “You are always so kind, Mrs. Choi.”

You waved goodbye as you walked past the receptionist’s, into the elevator waiting area.  The building had very sharp but bright interiors; the walls are mostly made out of glass to allow as much natural light in, frosted in areas where some privacy is needed.  A slight touch of earth tastefully adorns some strategic areas: indoor plants placed in stone walls gave some contrast and texture to the design, and the artistic lighting made glass and stone work so perfectly together.


You immediately turned your attention to the elevator as it opened; one of the bodyguards stepped in first and the other motioned you to follow.  He got into the lift afterwards, tapped his ID card onto the scanner and pressed “P” on the topmost part of the elevator buttons.

Once you reach the penthouse floor, imposing, wooden double-doors welcomed you, and so did an entire fleet of bodyguards, standing on attention. One of them stepped forward and turned to open the door for you.

“Good day, Mrs. Choi. They’re waiting within.”


The door opened to a spacious room with a large, dark wooden table at the center with Jumin and Jaehee standing on either sides of the large LED screen, Yoosung and Zen seated on the left side, and the twins to the right. You could immediately tell that everyone was waiting for you; the tension in the atmosphere was unmistakable.

“Welcome, MC,” Jumin said, and motioned you to sit on the chair beside Saeyoung.  You nod in acknowledgment to the RFA leader and turned to your husband. He smiles at you and you lean down to kiss his forehead before you sat on a chair.  He placed his hand on your thigh under the table, which you gratefully took; your cold fingers warmed with a slight squeeze.  He can tell that you are nervous and do not wish to do what you are about to do, and would honestly just want to pretend that nothing happened—but as friends…no, as family, the RFA deserves more than that.

“I guess everyone’s here,” Jaehee softly broke the silence, sitting beside Yoosung at the left side of the table, while Jumin, as chairman of the RFA, sat at the principal position of the table.

Jumin clears his throat and turns to everyone.  “The reason why I invited everybody in the C&R building, and not somewhere else, is to make everybody understand that whatever that will be discussed in here is to be kept with utmost secrecy.  This is the place wherein C&R discusses our most secret strategies, and I hope bringing you here will make you understand that the information we will discuss is of the same, if not greater, importance,” he stated, leaning his elbows on the table, his fingers interlaced.

Zen and Yoosung looked at each other briefly.  Yoosung looked worried, and Zen looked a little irritated.  “Yes, we know.  What we are just worried about is that why are things being kept secret from us?  I thought we already discussed that there should be no secrets kept within the RFA,” he sternly eyed Jumin, who kept a stoic expression but regarding the actor’s argument with respect.

“I’m afraid the decision is not mine to make,” Jumin replied.

“What do you mean?” Yoosung challenged.  “Jumin-hyung, you know more than anything what secrets made the RFA become.  Why do we still keep doing that?”

You let out a frustrated sigh. “Stop it,” you interrupted. Your eyes were focused on the reflection of the overhead lights on the shiny, polished surface. This tension in the room was just suffocating.  Of all the things that could happen, having suspicions with each other, especially the original people in the RFA, was the last thing you wanted.

Everybody went silent.

“Do I not have a say in this; Zen, Yoosung?” you replied in a soft, controlled tone.  “I chose to keep this secret.  Jumin knows about the same as everybody else in this room…so please do not automatically assume that this is all Jumin’s doing.”

Saeyoung looked over to you worriedly, and gives your hand a light squeeze to assure you.  You squeeze his hand back, and he gently caresses your knuckles with his thumb.

Saeran watches with deep interest.  He has not revealed any of the information he found about you during the picnic a few weeks ago, since the trails he followed all lead to a dead end.  Whoever made this cover-up may have neglected that one simple detail—if that was changed, he may have been convinced that the data was authentic as well.

“I am sorry, MC,” Zen replied.  “I just assumed the jerk knew. We’re just worried for everybody, that’s all.”

You nod, acknowledging their apologies.  Gazing at the two men, you sigh and shake your head.  “I don’t want to cause any rift between any of you, directly or indirectly.”

Looking at everyone in the RFA, you felt your chest clench like a vice. Saeyoung squeezes your hand again in support. “You are all so important to me. The RFA is my only family,” you hear your voice starting to break.  You can see Jaehee’s worried look at the corner of your eye.

Jumin grabs his silk handkerchief from his suit pocket and hands it over to Saeyoung, who in turn wipes your tears.  You smile at both of them thankfully.

“I was hoping I would never have to tell you this,” you stared at the tabletop, trying to find the right words.  

“I…I killed somebody.”

A gasp was heard from you assume Yoosung and Jaehee, but the others were quiet.  If it weren’t for Saeyoung’s reassuring hand you might have relived the nightmare in your mind again and worry everyone even more.  But you braced yourself to continue.  They deserve to know.

“It happened when I was a child,” you managed to blurt out.  “We…my teacher and I…we got attacked by a man on our way back to the orphanage,” you instinctively ran your right hand up and down your left arm, as if brushing a non-existent cold.

“The man…killed her in front of my eyes…so I…”

“Stop,” Saeyoung caught both of your arms, seeing that you were squeezing his so hard and your right hand was brushing way too much. “Breathe, MC. Slowly.”

You took a deep breath, and let out a shaky sigh.  You closed your eyes and gave his hands a light squeeze.  “Thank you, love…I’ll be fine.”

Saeyoung reluctantly lets go of your right hand as he went back to his seat, but he kept holding your left hand under the table.  You are afraid that everyone would stay away from you after this confession, but it was wishful thinking that you could just get on with your lives and go back to how things were after what happened, anyway.

“I didn’t know why I did it,” you started again, but unable to look at anybody in the eye.  “But I killed him.  And shortly afterwards, the man—the Silence leader—grabbed me.  And that’s all I remember from that point.”

You took a deep breath to calm your nerves, and let out a long sigh.  You gripped Saeyoung’s hand a little tighter.  Everybody looked at you expectantly; waiting for you to say something. Closing your eyes and taking another breath to gather your courage, you continued to tell your tale.

“He said he was sure I was dead,” you spoke in a quiet, shaky tone.  “And he was surprised to see me alive all these years when his son stayed dead.”

You finally lift your eyes to look at each and every one in the room.  There was the expected shock in everyone’s faces, but there was also genuine…concern.

“Whoa.  That is some story,” Zen finally leans on the chair, his mind adrift with thoughts.  “You said Silence leader.  Who is Silence?”

“An organized crime syndicate,” Saeyoung answered for you.  “We made an enemy out of them by putting the leader and one of his men behind bars.”

Jumin sighs.  “That explains a lot…and complicates many things.”

“I agree,” Jaehee adds. “and from the looks of it, they seem to be very…influential.”

“Oh yeah?” Zen turns to Jaehee.  “What made you say so?”

“The Prime Minister himself dropped by when I was caught hacking in the facility,” Saeran quietly replied, which prompted Zen to abruptly stand up.  


“Enough, all of you,” Saeyoung interrupted.  “You’re making the situation seem a lot worse than it is.  The Prime Minister thanked us for assisting in catching him, so that’s that.”

Zen sat back in his chair, and Yoosung gingerly spoke.  “So…that means they should be gone, right? I mean, the leader’s gone, so…”

“If only things were that easy,” Jumin spoke.  “I’m pretty sure that a successor would easily take one missing leader’s place.”

The gravity of Jumin’s words hung in the air like a low hanging cloud.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, “I’ve placed you all in danger—“

“MC, we placed you in an apartment with a bomb,” Zen interrupted.  “I don’t think we’re the one to talk.”

“He’s right,” Yoosung added, “Thank you for telling us, noona. Like you, we will do our best to remain objective on this,” he gives you a warm smile.  “Don’t even think of leaving RFA!”

This surprised you.  How the hell did he know what I was thinking?

“What?! No, why would you leave?” Zen chimed in.

“We should all stick together,” Jaehee added.  

Jumin straightened in his chair.  “I told you, didn’t I?  It will be harder to leave.  We’re your family.  Even if you leave, we will come looking for you.”

Saeyoung turns and grins at you.  “See? I told you they’re very stubborn. Believe me, I’ve tried to get rid of them.

Saeran scoffs.  “And you’re not?”

You felt tears in your eyes roll down your cheeks as you laugh along with everyone.  


The penthouse is quiet once again.  Watching the snow gently fall and collect at the bottom of the window pane, Jumin sits and sips his wine, his eyes staring out in the snow-covered city below.

“Mr. Han,” Jaehee calls to him as she walks into the main conference area from the kitchen.

“What is it?”

“I just noticed that you have been deep in thought the moment MC had told her story,” she sits herself on one of the chairs around the conference table, resting her hands on her lap. “Is there something you need me to look into?”

Jumin looks at her for a moment and gives a brief smile.  “Since when did you care about my thoughts?  You don’t seem this interested when I think about cat projects.”

“Mr. Han.” Jaehee spoke sternly, not picking up the joke.  “Don’t even think about it.”

A light chuckle escaped Jumin’s lips, and then he turns back towards the window, swirling wine in his glass.

“I just…thought her story is familiar.”

Too familiar.


A/N: OHOHO I AM BACK! :D  Yes, Quietus is the sequel to Missing~

Although I may not be updating as much as I did with Missing…but as always, I will do the best I can. ^^

And this is more of a trial chapter anyway~ I’m still writing the next one.

Chapter 1 is up!

#1 Crush

Pairing: Colin Firth/Taron Egerton, mentions of Harry Hart/Eggsy Unwin

Rating: Explicit

Words: 3,689

Additional tags: light D/s, dirty talk, blow jobs, fingering, anal sex, come play, PWP, jealousy

Colin is jealous because he’s not the only older man Taron has an amazing chemistry with, so he has to make sure that Taron knows who he really belongs to.

Thanks to @trekkiepirate and @weepingengel for listening to my thoughts, providing me with a little bit of extra info and just being overall lovely ♥

Keep reading

Forty-Two [M.C.]

A/N: Here it is! The winner of the fic poll, requested by Anon

P.s. My request box will be reopening soon so start thinking up some new ideas! I’m setting aside time in my week to work on requests. My goal is to have a new one written and posted every weekend. I hope you enjoy this Michael imagine! Some comments and feedback would be much appreciated -S 

Sure, there were flirtatious moments, growing numbers of close encounters, little passing glances that lasted longer than would be considered innocent. But you never let yourself entertain the idea, for very long anyway, that a member of one of the most popular bands in the world would give you a second thought. Even though he permanently occupied a space in your brain. So you went about your business, cleaning camera lenses, sorting through the hundreds of photos you took at every show, and staying out of the crew’s way. Something else you never thought would happen was your one-night-only freelance photography gig morphing into a permanent touring job, but here you are.
The desktop of your computer, once filled with college materials just a few months ago, is now completely saturated with files of photos meticulously separated and labeled.

Tonight will be the fortieth show of the tour…wait, maybe fiftieth?

“Hey,” you call out to the band over your laptop screen, “what number show is tonight?”
Sprawled across the dressing room couch, Calum answers, “Forty-two” through a yawn.

You nod and return your attention to your organizing.

“You ever gonna show me what’s in that ‘Personal’ folder of yours, Y/N?” Michael questions, placing his chin on your shoulder.
“I could show you Mikey, but then I’d have to kill you”
“So feisty these days,” he retorts with a playful scoff.

Despite your best efforts, you can’t stifle the pink flush that arises in the apples of your cheeks. The feeling of Michael’s words fanning over the side of your neck sends a tingle down your spine. In your peripheral vision, you notice his mouth twist into a smirk, always taking delight in the effect he has on you. Your fingers hover over the keyboard and you try to look like you’re pondering what to type. When in actuality your brain is swirling with a million different thoughts, all veering in one direction; the warmth radiating from Michael’s torso that was all but pressed against your back, the smell of his cologne and the lingering toothpaste on his breath, the faint sheen of chapstick on his slender pink lips.

The tour manager struts down the hall barking, “Soundcheck!”

A heavier than intended sigh of relief escapes you. You quickly jump up and slam your computer shut, so thankful that someone pulled you back to reality.
The zipper on your camera bag catches in its usual spot near the corner, a few profanities fall from your mouth in frustration. From your left a tattooed hand reaches and swipes the bag out from your line of sight. As you straighten up you realize that it’s now only you and Michael left in the dressing room.

He jiggles the zipper free and places the thick polyester bag back on the seat of the chair in front of you.
“Thanks, Mikey,” you say with a smile then shuffle around, pulling out your camera and a short range lens. You click the cylinder in place and throw the strap over your head, making a few adjustments to the camera’s focus when, without warning, you feel a curled finger tilt your chin up. Michael’s gaze is already intently studying your features by the time your eyes meet his.

“What’re you doing?” you utter, “We really should um, go out there. There’re a lot of people waiting and everyone else is already…”
The distance between your bodies grows more and more minimal with each of your rambling syllables.
“Y/N,” Michael cut in with a giggle, “shut up.”

Just as you were about to protest, Michael swallows your words in a hungry kiss that makes your arm hairs stand on end. That light blush in your cheeks from earlier has now intensified to a burn over your entire face. Michael’s eyes linger closed for a few seconds after the two of you disconnect.
Finally, he says, “I’ve thought about doing that since I first met you.”
“I’m not sure. I think I need one more to be sure.” 

Your grin only breaks when you feel his lips cup around the bottom of your pout, every muscle in your body involuntarily melting into his touch. Both of Michael’s hands rest under your ears, thumbs lightly stroking across your jawline. Your index fingers hook into the belt loops that sit on his hips, seemingly anchoring you back down to Earth. One more turned into three, then five, then your thoughts blurred so heavily you couldn’t think of anything except how soft and gentle his movements were. Slotting his lips into yours like warm, sweet puzzle pieces.

An unrecognizable voice far down the corridor shouted, “Michael come on!”
You glanced down at your watch, soundcheck was set to start in five minutes. Michael was already on thin ice after delaying the last soundcheck by ten minutes because he decided to take a shower at the last minute.
“I am not going to be the reason you get in trouble,” you declare yanking at his wrist and dragging him towards the stage.
When you finally make it to the appropriate entrance ramp you drop Michael’s arm and turn for the door that leads out onto the arena floor where you were meant to be. Mid-stride two strong arms wrap around your waist, snatching you backward into Michael’s grip. You spin around in his arms, giggling all the while, your hands coming to rest flat on his chest. His nose fell against your cheek as your foreheads found each other.  Neither of you noticed the other three guys lucidly appear out of nowhere.  

“So you’re mine now right?” Michael queried
“Oh, I’ve been yours for quite a while.”
A rash of noise came from Calum, Luke, and Ashton, “Thank god!” “Took ya long enough…” “Finally!”, causing you both to startle slightly.

It wasn’t unusual for you to hang out in the boys’ bunks after a show. But you had always been too nervous to be in such close proximately to Michael for fear of making an ass of yourself. All of that seemed so silly now that you were sat between his legs scrolling through the night’s pictures.

“Where are all the ‘behind the scenes’ photos?”
“Still on my camera. I don’t ever really use them… just practicing ya know?”
Michael dips his hand under your hair to make room for his chin to rest on your shoulder. The same gesture as before now holding an entirely new set of reciprocated feelings behind it.

“And you won’t let me look at them, huh?”
“You wouldn’t want to. They’re nowhere near as good as the photos from the actual shows.”
“C’mon kitten, I’m sure they’re great.” The pet name made your heart lurch a bit.
After sliding your laptop into your backpack, you adjust yourself in Michael’s arms so that your head is resting against his shoulder, legs draped across one of his thighs.
“What? You don’t like it?”
“No no, I like it. I’m just surprised you already have a nickname for me,” you smile, fiddling with the bracelets stacked up Michael’s wrist.
“It fits you,” he says running an index finger along the bridge of your nose. “How ‘bout a movie?” he suggests.  
“Sure. You pick something, I’ll be right back,” you reply nearly smacking your head on the bunk roof in route to the bathroom.

When you return a few minutes later, you notice that your bag is no longer on the floor where you left it and the curtain is drawn. Behind the black fabric, you find your camera in Michael’s hands and a cheesy smile painted on his face. 

“I guess your nicknames gonna be nosy,” you tease, crawling under one of his arms and watching him click through shot after shot.
“They’re all of me,” he says with bright yet quizzical eyes.
“Well,” you place your thumb over his and find your favorite photo of the night- a candid of Michael making a face at you as he retook the stage for the encore.
“I only take pictures of things that make me happy, Mikey.”


anonymous asked:

do you write 17 fanfics? can i get a request of you having a crush on another member but then joshua finds out? (whatever the character does is up to you)

I Like You, I Love You

Word Count: 1171

“I like you!” you blurted out as you collided with Joshua.

It was the perfect scenario. You turned the corner to find him there while you were practicing the lines in your head. You ran into him and spilled out your feelings for him only to realize that…it wasn’t Hoshi.

Well, it’s not like you expected it to be him in the first place.

Keep reading

Breathless Part 3

Pair : Single!Jensen x Reader

Music : Anywhere But Here by SafetySuit

Summary : Being at a SPNCON, Jensen was up to perform a song. But once he laid his eyes on you, he couldn’t stop himself from staring. After, as everyone made their way to the lobby, you had realized you left your phone somewhere. While calling it, in hopes you could find it, Jensen answers. 

A/N : Many of you had asked for another part! So here it is! If you want a part four, Please let me know! Every feedback is much appreciated! Thank you!! 

Catch up here : Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

You laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling. A smile plastered on your face as the images of last night flooded your mind. 

It all felt surreal. Getting to spend hours with the cast of your favorite show, and even kissing the man you’ve loved for so many years. You couldn’t help but blush at the thought. 

Tonight, you and Y/F/N were packing to go back home. The weekend has come to an end, and though you were suppose to hang out with them once again, they all had to leave earlier then expected. 

You were both bummed, but so very fortunate to have spent any time with them at all. 

“I have so many pictures and videos of last night.” She chuckled. “My life is officially made.” She sat on the edge of the bed, reminiscing stories of last night. Smiling at her phone. 

“Wait a minute!” She croaked. Her head snapped up and dropped her jaw. Looking as if she has seen something crazy. 

“What?” You exhaled, sitting up. 

She walked over to you and handed her phone over to you. 

Your eyes grew wide, as she zoomed into the picture. It was of you and Jensen, kissing. You could feel your stomach flutter and the blood rush up to your cheeks. 

“You and Jensen kissed and you didn’t tell me?!” Her voice was loud. “I can’t believe you! This is big! And you didn’t tell me!”

“I-I’m sorry, last night was so surreal. It just slipped my mind.” You stammered, biting your cheek trying to refrain from smiling. 

“I’ll forgive you only if you tell me how it was!” She cackled. 

You took in a long deep breath, sitting up straighter as you met her gaze. “It was perfect.”

Y/F/N threw her head back and squealed. She was excited for you, and you couldn’t help but feel special. 

“Too bad they all had to leave early. You probably could’ve kissed him one last time.” She flashed you a wink. 

You shook your head and let out a soft sigh. “Nah, I dont think he even remembers it. Or even remembers me.” 

Your phone lit up, catching your attention. 

An unfamiliar number appeared with a text that read : 

‘Meet me at the park down the street. I have a surprise for you.” 

“What the hell?” You muttered. 

“What?” Y/F/N asked, walking over to see what you had just seen. 

Her lips curved up and she shrugged. “You have a secret admirer!” She chuckled. 

“Or it might be a serial killer hoping I’d be its next victim!” I spewed out. 

“Oh come on Y/N! It doesn’t hurt to at least go see. I will go with you, but I will hide and if i see anything fishy, I will whip out my cute pink pepper spray!” 

You pondered your thoughts as your stared intently at your screen. Who the hell would have your number out here? 


The sky was dark and the wind was still, but cold. You could feel your heart pound, and race with every step you took. Getting closer to your destination. 

“Are you nervous?” She asked, her arm linked with yours. 

You nodded, not able to focus. 

Turning the corner, your eyes laid on such a beautiful sight. 

It was breath taking. Mesmerized by the beautiful scenery, you felt your stomach flutter. 

You looked around, but there was no one in sight. Just you and the lonely picnic before you. 

“What the hell?” You whispered. Walking over, you looked all around you. 

Whoever it was, took their time to come up with perfect date. There were lights everywhere, with two glasses and wine. Along with some food in the basket. 

It was extremely romantic. Something you have only seen in movies. 

You began to think maybe it was meant for someone else. Just a simple mistake. Though deep down, you wished it were for you. 

Making your way back to the hotel, you could hear something rustling in the bushes. Before you could even blink, someone jumped out, scaring you, making you jump and scream. 

Your heart was pounding out of your chest. You have never been so scared in your life. 

“Leaving so soon?” The familiar voice rang, making your stomach flutter. 

Turning on your heels, hesitantly, you couldn’t believe who it was.

“Jensen?” You let out. 

He let out a loud cackle, smiling at you as you gripped on to your chest. 

“I swear I am going to kick your ass!” You chuckled. 

“Hey come on, you know it was funny!” He stammered. 

You rolled your eyes and flashed an innocent smile. You never thought you would see him again. And seeing him smile the way he did, hearing him laugh, you couldn’t help but smile. 

His gaze never left you. He could feel himself grow anxious, nervous even. He wanted everything to be perfect. Jensen wanted this to be something special. 

“Come on.” He smirked. Reaching his hand out to you. Tangling your fingers with his, chills vibrated through you. 

“H-how did you get my number?” You chuckled, following him to the picnic. 

“Well when I had your phone, I decided to call mine so I could have it.” He smirked. He looked anywhere but you, nervous to see your reaction. 

“So you did all of this?” You took in a deep breath, looking around. “For me?” 

Jensen nodded, motioning for you to sit down on the blanket. He opened the bottle of wine, and poured some for the both of you, 

“Wait, I thought you left already?” You asked. 

“I was about to, but then-” He paused, slowly meeting your gaze. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” 

Those words created butterflies to flutter in your stomach. Here you thought he wouldn’t remember who you even were. 

His hand grazed over your cheek as he pushed your hair behind your ear. It left you breathless. It was like a dream. 

Gazing into your eyes, he felt safe, alive, as if he was meant to be exactly right there. 

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispered. 

Those words echoed in your head, making the blood rush up to your cheeks. 

You were extremely nervous, but happy at the same time. Never wanted this night to end. 

“How long did it take you to do all of this?” You asked, taking a sip of your wine. 

He looked up and smiled. “Just 2 hours. Cliff helped me get everything. And Jared helped set everything up before he left.” 

“Two hours?! holy crap.” You chuckled. Feeling even more special than you did before. 

“It was so worth it though.” He exhaled. “Getting to see you one more time, thats all I wanted.” 

You chuckled to yourself, something you did when you were nervous. Who would have ever thought that this would happen? 

“Come on. its getting too cheesy!” He cackled. “Lets eat.” 


You sat next to Jensen, looking up at the dim sky. Without realizing, you and Jensen stayed up all night. Talking and laughing about anything and everything. Making memories, watching him make a fool of himself. It was perfect.

The hours ticked by and in a blink of an eye, the sun was beginning to rise. 

“Damn, it’s morning already?” You croaked, pulling your hair up into a messy bun. 

“Looks like it.” He chuckled. 

He scooted closer, close enough to smell him. feel the warmth of his body. He made you feel safe. 

Your phone goes off, startling you both. 

“Hello?” You exhaled. It was Y/F/N. 

“Shit, I’ll be there soon.” You shoved the phone into your pocket, and propped up on your feet. 

“Its time to check out.” You sighed. 

Jensen stood up next to you, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Thanks for hanging out with me all night.” He flashed a smile. “I had a great time.” 

You nodded and pulled him in a for a gentle hug. Feeling his arms wrapped around your waist, you wanted to stay there forever. 

“Me too.” You whispered. “Guess this is goodbye.” 

He pursed his lips and shrugged his shoulders. Looking defeated. “I guess so.” He pressed his lips to yours. “Thanks for the best weekend of my life.”

Slipping out of his embrace, you started toward the hotel. Glancing back at the handsome man, standing alone, staring directly at you. 

Every fiber of your being wanted you to run back, wanted you to stay. But every story has its ending. You both were in different worlds. He was an actor, travelling the world, and you were just a girl, finding who you are. 

It would never work. Right? 

Jensen watched as you walked away. Fading into the distance, until you were no where in sight. He wished he could relive last night all over again. 

“Goodbye.” He whispered. 


The airport was crowded. Jensen followed close behind Cliff as they made their way to the terminal. Waiting for the flight back to Canada, to film another episode. 

“I didn’t see you come in to the room at all last night.” Cliff exclaimed. “Guess the night went well?” 

Jensen smiled, as the images flooded his mind. “It was perfect.” He muttered. 

Looking around, he noticed a family just right in front of him. A young couple, with a little boy sitting on the lady’s lap. She ran her fingers through his hair while her husband clutched onto her hand and held it close to his lips. 

It was everything He wanted. A family of his own. 

Never thought he would ever get that. He grew accustomed to his lifestyle. Which only meant, no time for love in his life. He was okay with it, until he met you. 

Looking down at his phone, he had almost forgotten that he changed his background of you two from last night. 

“You look ridiculous!” You cackled. Jensen decided to make a mustache out of the whip cream. 

“I look sexy!” He yelped. 

“Yeah sure. Lets go with that.” You chuckled. Within the next moment, Jensen rubbed his whip creamed face against yours. 

“Oh my god!” You croaked. His laughter filled the air. And with that, It was war. shoving whipped cream all over each other, You both were running around, laughing. 

“Okay okay, truce.” He stammered. He pulled his phone out, trying to see the mess you have created. “I look horrible!” 

“Come on, lets take a picture!” You stated. Your faces were together as he snapped the photo. “At least we look delicious!” 

“Thats true.” He made the photo his background and smiled. “This is great.” 

“I’ll be back.” Jensen hesitated. 

Cliff nodded, watching Jensen step away and into an empty area. 

He dialed your number, feeling anxious as it rung. 

“Hello?” You breathed. 

Hearing your voice, made his stomach flutter. 

“Y/N! I dont have a lot of time, but I dont want this to be it. I dont want to say goodbye to you.” He exhaled. “Because when im not with you, I start to miss you. I would rather be anywhere but here without you. I know its only been two days since we met, but I cant stop thinking about you. You’re so beautiful. You make me forget to breathe. I dont want to go through life not knowing if this could work or not. I dont want ask What if. I want you.” 

His words stitched into your head, and you were lost for words. Jensen, the man of your dreams told you he wanted you. 

“I got to go, I will call you when I land ok? Talk to you soon.” 

The phone went dead, and you couldn’t believe what just happened. 

“What did he say? I better be your maid of honor at the wedding!” Y/F/N Cackled. 

You toned out her voice and stared endlessly at your screen. 

This was your very own fairytale.