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No Regrets (Part 7)

So I’ve been away for a few days, spending some time with my family. Didn’t manage to update this earlier but here it is now! Hope you like it!

Need to catch up? Here’s No Regrets Masterlist

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: Swearing. Some angst. SASSY TONY.

A/N: Ooh, the tension, guys! Also, this gif is so perfect for this part!

Originally posted by starkexpo

You needed coffee today. Normally you’re pretty cheery when you arrive at work but this morning you were snappy and your colleagues noticed. The girls have asked you to nip around the corner to the café and grab you all some liquid caffeine. You were more than happy to do it – anything to get out of the office today! You were getting tired of all the drama. In a way you knew that this will pass in time, you’d just have to stick through it. But logic was not the dominant force today. Today angst and bitterness were having a day out in the life of Y/N…

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amazzjin  asked:

Jimin 31! CONGRATS ON 5K!! ❤

thank you petal!!! i’m forever grateful! (and now there’s like 7K+ of you what the hell you’re all precious) i hope you like this! it’s coffeeshop!au <33

31. “I’m trying to flirt with you.”


Originally posted by sweaterpawsjimin

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The Surprise

Note: Tommy gives you, his fiancé, an early wedding surprise.

Requested by: Anon.

Originally posted by ohfuckyeahcillianmurphy

“Where the bloody hell are you taking us, Tommy?” You muttered as you crossed your arms.

“It’s a surprise, Y/N– and I won’t tell you that again,” he added for good measure.

“Is this a kidnapping? Have you kidnapped me Tom?”

He chuckled at that, keeping his eyes focused on the road, “I don’t think it counts as kidnapping if you’ve come willingly, love.”

“Well I didn’t know you were going to blindfold me, did I?” You huffed, adjusting the cloth covering your eyes slightly to make it more comfortable.

“It’s alright, we’re nearly there.”

“Nearly where?”

Tommy shook his head in amusement, “Remind me never to surprise you when we’re married, Y/N.”

“I like surprises,” you countered, “I just don’t like the… you know, the not knowing part.”

“Well,” Tommy started as you felt the road shift to gravel, “It’s a good thing we’re here then.”

The car came to a stop and you immediately took your blindfold off, relieved it was no longer impairing your vision.

Tommy noticed and frowned, “Y/N, you were supposed to wait–”

“Oh. My. God,” your eyes widened at the stately home before you. You quickly furrowed your eyebrows, “Have you brought me on some sort of burglary mission, Thomas Shelby?”

There was something endearing about when you called Tommy by his full name, so he smiled slightly, shaking his head, “It’s not a burglary if you own the place.”

You shifted back in your seat, completely lost for words. Was he serious? “I–I… Why… I mean, don’t you– what?”

“Thought you’d say that,” Tommy said before getting out of the car. You watched as he trailed over to your door, where you sat still half in shock.

When Tommy opened your door, you climbed out quickly and held on to your fiancé.

“Tommy… what do you mean… y-you own the place?”

He studied your face carefully before swiftly slinging his arm through yours, “Well I don’t own it–”

“Then what are we doing here?” You knew Tommy wouldn’t have just bought a home so far from Small Heath.

“If you’d’ve let me finish,” Tommy said pointedly, but you could tell he wasn’t angry, “I was going to say, it’s not my house, it’s yours.”

“What.” It didn’t even sound like a question.

“This home, it’s been bought by a Mrs. Y/N Shelby– well, Y/N L/N for now.”

Normally, you would’ve commented on how you loved the sound of your married name, but you were slightly preoccupied, “You bought me… a palace?”

Tommy smiled at your choice of words, “Consider it an early wedding present.”

“But all I gave you was a new cap!” That seemed to be first thought that sprang to mind.

“You’ve given me so much more than that, sweetheart,” he said, stroking your cheek as he looked at you affectionately.

“Yes but a house Tommy? An actual house? It’s massive,” you gasped, “Oh, this must’ve cost you a fortune.”

“I could’ve bought you a hundred of these houses, Y/N… but I’m not planning on getting locked up before our wedding day,” he remarked casually.

“Still, Tommy. This… this is too kind,” you sighed happily, “I- I don’t even know how to thank you!” You reached up to press your lips to his.

When he pulled away Tommy was grinning “No need to thank me, love. You’ve not even seen the inside of it yet,” he reminded you as he reached for a key in his trouser pocket.

“Oh, this is beautiful,” you said as soon as you entered. It truly was exquisite.

“I’ve already had some of your things moved over… portraits and the like,” he said, gesturing to the walls.

“Are you really planning on leaving Small Heath after the wedding?” You called out to him, already wandering off in awe.

“‘Course I am. It’s no place for a husband to bring his wife home to, Y/N, nor could I stand to raise a family there– our family.”

Tommy found you in one of the home’s many living rooms, admiring the grand piano. He snaked his arms around your waist from behind you and rested his head on your shoulder.

Our family?” You hummed, “Now that’s a thought I could get used to.”

You stayed like that for a moment longer before Tommy quickly pecked your cheek, “Come, you haven’t seen the best room yet.”

As if your mouth couldn’t get any lower to the floor, your jaw dropped again as you stepped inside the room Tommy had led you to.

Books adorned every inch of the walls, there was even a ladder to access the ones that were too high for you reach– that’s how many there were. In the middle of the room was a large reading chair and matching ottoman, the centre of the leather was embroidered with your initials, well, you’re soon-to-be initials anyway.

“Y/N Shelby…,” Tommy said as he saw you looking towards it, “What do you think?”

“It’s– gorgeous… I’ve always wanted my own library,” you almost laughed at how amazed you sounded.

“I know you have,” He smiled, “Had this made especially,” he said as he pointed to the shelves.

“I can’t believe you did this all for me,“ your eyes were beginning to well up at the thought of Tommy spending so much time to have this room made for you.

He stepped towards you, quickly wiping away a tear that had fallen down your cheek, “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

“Oh Tommy,” you sniffled at his words, “But all this? The library, this home? It’s too much to give to me!”

“Nonsense,” Tommy consoled you, gently placing his hands on your cheeks, “It brings me great comfort knowing it’s in your name. I wouldn’t want you to have to rely on a soul if anything were to happen to me.”

“Oh now, don’t say things like that, Thomas. You’re not going anywhere.”

“Hmm, believe me, love, I’m planning on spoiling you for a very long time,” he said softly before pressing his lips to yours.

Maybe some of you remember that I made a collection of pdf’s on the Sahih al Bukhari. It would not be fair to not do the same for the Sahih Muslim, so now that i have some time I did it. Note it is without the introduction that is found in the actual collection, just all of the books 1-56. You can download them individually or as whole. In sha Allah it will be of benefit to someone. 
As with the Sahih al Bukhari, if you find something that is off tell me and I will fix it, data source of the hadiths is the same as on

Sahih Muslim (complete - 3020 pages - 9.5mb)

You can also download each book individually or those you are currently interested in.

Book 1. - The Book of Faith

Book 2. - The Book of Purification

Book 3. - The Book of Menstruation

Book 4. - The Book of Prayers

Book 5. - The Book of Mosques and Places of Prayer

Book 6. - The Book of Prayer - Travellers

Book 7. - The Book of Prayer - Friday

Book 8. - The Book of Prayer - Two Eids

Book 9. - The Book of Prayer - Rain

Book 10. - The Book of Prayer - Eclipses

Book 11. - The Book of Prayer - Funerals

Book 12. - The Book of Zakat

Book 13. - The Book of Fasting

Book 14. - The Book of I'tikaf

Book 15. - The Book of Pilgrimage

Book 16. - The Book of Marriage

Book 17. - The Book of Suckling

Book 18. - The Book of Divorce

Book 19. - The Book of Invoking Curses

Book 20. - The Book of Emancipating Slaves

Book 21. - The Book of Transactions

Book 22. - The Book of Musaqah

Book 23. - The Book of the Rules of Inheritance

Book 24. - The Book of Gifts

Book 25. - The Book of Wills

Book 26. - The Book of Vows

Book 27. - The Book of Oaths

Book 28. - The Book of Oaths, Muharibin, Qasas (Retaliation), and Diyat (Blood Money)

Book 29. - The Book of Legal Punishments

Book 30. - The Book of Judicial Decisions

Book 31. - The Book of Lost Property

Book 32. - The Book of Jihad and Expeditions

Book 33. - The Book on Government

Book 34. - The Book of Hunting, Slaughter, and what may be Eaten

Book 35. - The Book of Sacrifices

Book 36. - The Book of Drinks

Book 37. - The Book of Clothes and Adornment

Book 38. - The Book of Manners and Etiquette

Book 39. - The Book of Greetings

Book 40. - The Book Concerning the Use of Correct Words

Book 41. - The Book of Poetry

Book 42. - The Book of Dreams

Book 43. - The Book of Virtues

Book 44. - The Book of the Merits of the Companions

Book 45. - The Book of Virtue, Enjoining Good Manners, and Joining of the Ties of Kinship

Book 46. - The Book of Destiny

Book 47. - The Book of Knowledge

Book 48. - The Book Pertaining to the Remembrance of Allah, Supplication, Repentance and Seeking Forgiveness

Book 49. - The Book of Heart-Melting Traditions

Book 50. - The Book of Repentance

Book 51. - Characteristics of The Hypocrites And Rulings Concerning Them

Book 52. - Characteristics of the Day of Judgment, Paradise, and Hell

Book 53. - The Book of Paradise, its Description, its Bounties and its Inhabitants

Book 54. - The Book of Tribulations and Portents of the Last Hour

Book 55. - The Book of Zuhd and Softening of Hearts

Book 56. - The Book of Commentary on the Qur'an


Fandom: Harry Potter 
Pairing: Muggle!James x Lily

Lily almost didn’t notice the small cafe, tucked away on a busy London street. The rain had come as a surprise on her way back from university, and she was caught in the middle of it with no umbrella. Hurriedly, she sloshed through the puddles, pulling her hood further down to shield her face. Then she saw it from the corner of her eye. Turning around, she stood in front of the cafe, admiring it in all its glory. Its teal painted, wooden exterior was completed with a large divided window with decorative potted plants clustered below it, thriving in the recent change of weather. Reaching for the door knob, she twisted it and stepped inside to be greeted by a wave of warmth. Wiping her soggy feet on the doormat, she slipped off her hood revealing her deep red hair. Inside the exposed brick walls were adorned with shelves holding books of all genres and colours. Mismatched armchairs were littered around the room in small groups, occupied by friends huddling together over warm beverages, having conversations lit by fairy lights dangled from the ceiling.

 Lily stepped onto the wood floor, wet shoes leaving footprints behind them, and ambled her way towards the back of the cafe where a tall boy with noticeably messy, black hair stood behind a counter. Within a closer proximity, lily could see that he managed a deadpan expression with every word he spoke. While she was examining the chalkboard menu that hung behind him, he grumbled something that sounded along the lines of a ‘how can I help you?’ and lily wondered if he was breaking records for just how reluctant to actually follow through with that offer he looked. Skimming over the wide variety of beverages, her eyes came to a stop at a drink she was delighted to see. 
“Can I have a salted caramel tea, please?”
Gaining his attention, the boy looked up and for a moment lily was sure his eyes softened at the sight of her, but then he quickly casted his gaze back down and proceeded to make her order. Subconsciously, she tapped her foot along to the beat of a quietly played song, coming from a record player which had been dismissed into a corner. Lily recognised it as not something up and coming, but from the memories of her childhood instead. This, and the fact that she could hear someone humming along brought a nostalgic feeling and a happy smile to her face.  But when she turned her attention back to the bedraggled boy making her tea, she discovered that it was infact him humming over the bubbling of the kettle. How could such a miserable git have such good music taste? Lily found it infuriating so she ceased her foot tapping and furrowed her brow, fighting her sudden desire to like him. He placed her steamy drink on the counter, an absent-minded look in his eyes hidden behind fogged glassed as she slid him her money and took her drink in search for a chair.

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anonymous asked:

What about Nico Di Angelo finding someone who is into mythomagic?

Nico was no longer into mythomagic, that was for children and he had decided long ago he was not a child. Sure, he still remembered the game and most of the rules, but he had gotten rid of all of his cards and figurines long ago.

The son of Hades couldn’t help but wonder why he was standing across the street of a comic book shop watching through the large glass windows as the only worker inside put the new mythomagic packs on display. Nico’s eyes went to a person who was also watching the shop, waiting for it to open, practically vibrating in excitement. The boy was a little amused. 

You were standing there with your unisex bag that was adorned with mythomagic, comic book and other “nerd” related buttons and patches. You always carried your bag with you, it carried your best decks in case anyone spontaneously wanted to battle. You had noticed the strange boy but before you could ask him if he was a fan of the game, the store opened and the clerk just laughed as he saw you walk in. 

What can you say? You were a regular. You had never seen the goth looking boy before but smiled at him as he followed you into the store.

“Give me five of your best titan-expansion booster packs, Burnie!” You grinned setting the money on the counter as the clerk just laughed and slipped you the packs. You walked to the back, where there was an area for games to set your bag down and open the packs you got. 

You were so caught up, you hadn’t noticed the boy hovering near you, pretending to look at the comics as you opened your packs.

“Oh SWEET!” Nico jumped and looked at you as you yelled at Burnie, “YOU GOT ME A RARE FOILED HADES!! He’s my favorite and his new attack stats with this pack are so cool!” You grinned at Nico then noticed he was looking at you.

“Do you play?” You asked before returning to the rest of your cards.

“That game is childish and for children.” Nico huffed and turned to the side, “Besides, Hades isn’t that great.”

“It’s not childish, it’s a game for all ages and is all about strategy. There’s even tournaments with big cash prizes usually.” You shrugged, you didn’t really care when people looked down on MOM, you were used to it.  “And Hades is my favorite greek god. He’s actually a big softie.” You smiled, ironically, at the son of Hades.

Nico just rolled his eyes at you and was about to leave before you piped up again.

“You never answered if you play, if you can’t I could teach you.” Your smile was blinding.

“I don’t have a deck.” Nico turned away.

“I have extras.” You motioned to a table. “C’mon, let me teach you!”

“I know how to play,”Nico scowled, trying to look older than he really was. His facade quickly crumbled and he sat across from you as you fished out your decks, explaining what each one did and what was in them. 

“Then how about, if I win…you buy me breakfast.” You grinned, a bit cheeky and forward, “I’m pretty hungry from waiting for the shop to open. If you win…I’ll make you a deck.” 

“You seem pretty sure of yourself. And I don’t need a deck. If I win, you answer a few questions for me.” Nico began to shuffle his cards.

 You shrugged. It was a simple request. You went over the house rules so you could both agree on them and proceeded to play. You ended up winning.

“How about I answer your questions over some McDonalds breakfast sandwiches?” You grinned. 

The Illusions Of Love - Part Two

[ younghyun professor!au]

word count; 2.4k

genre; fluff/angst 

previous part || masterlist || next part ↠

You smiled to yourself as you were walking in the direction towards the library. You were clutching your recent assignment in your hands. You got full marks and a comment from Younghyun.

Good work Y/N. Keep this standard up - YK

You had finally proven yourself and your potential for the subject. Before heading into the library, you stopped on your way to grab some coffee. You had an exam coming up and you wanted to perform well. You could already tell that it was gong to be a long night of study as you visualised the amount of work that you had.

You flung your backpack on the empty seat next to you before pulling a chair out to sit on. You chose the back of the large library and a table behind one of the big bookcases. You preferred to work in a quieter and more closed off environment.

Once you were settled and had everything you needed, you dived in to your pile of work, working away busily. As usual, you lost track of time, unfazed by the people coming and going around you. The darkness outside and lack of people in the library should have been an indicator that it was late, however you remained seated and typing away on your laptop.

A figure in your peripheral vision caught your attention and caused you to look up. Your expression dropped once you saw that it was Professor Kang. He smiled weakly before pointing at the seat close by. You nodded before looking back down at your laptop.

“You should probably go home, it’s getting late,” Younghyun finally spoke. You scrunched your eyebrows at him.

“I have a lot of work to do, especially for your class,” you bitterly replied, clicking furiously on the keys of your laptop. Younghyun appeared unfazed by your comment before pointing at the coffee cups littering the table.

“It is not healthy to consume that much caffeine,” he bluntly stated. You tried to not roll your eyes and snap at him since he was starting to bother you.

“Why are you here anyway? The library is only really used by students,” you questioned.

Younghyun smirked before replying, “I have to study for my PhD. I’m not quite finished yet with my degree, that’s why I’m the youngest professor here. I went to college early as well as graduating early but I still have to complete my degree.”

You were fascinated by Younghyun at having accomplished so much at his mere age of twenty three.

“Come on, I’ll give you a lift home, it is late Y/N,” Younghyun assertively announced.

“No, I can walk home, but I have to study for your upcoming exam,” you argued, placing a hand on your forehead, as if it would somehow make your now growing headache disappear.

Younghyun closed over your laptop and began collecting your scattered sheet, ignoring your protests.

“Come on, we’ll go and get something to eat,” Younghyun said, continuing to clear away your study materials.

“What? I don’t want to eat, not with you. I’ll just go home,” you said, avoiding any eye contact with him.

“Please, I don’t want us to be like this… I don’t know. You seem nice and I would like to get to know you…” Younghyun trailed. You remained quite, unsure of how to answer him.

“We can study after we get some food if you still want to. I could help you, give you some advice on the assignment but I’m not allowed to give away too much information or else that would be cheating,” Younghyun negotiated. You thought about his offer for a couple of seconds.

“Fine. And I never asked for help, I wouldn’t want to know the test since that’s poitbless and not helping me understand the material. But I would like to study with you as a friend and literature student,” you explained.

“Deal, now let’s get out of here,” Younghyun smiled, carrying your backpack for you.


You felt awkward sitting in the passenger seat of Younghyun’s car. You tried to conjure up conversation starters in your mind, but nothing came out.

“Where would you like to eat?” he kindly asked, eyes fixed on the busy road in front of him.

“I um… I don’t think that’s a great idea… you know, what if people saw us together and got the wrong idea?” you blurted.

Younghyun stifled a laugh.

“I don’t think you have to worry. Professors and students can meet if they want, but if you don’t want to be seen with me, that’s okay,” he replied. You felt embarrassed thinking that maybe Younghyun thought you were childish for presuming such a thing.

“I live just outside the city in a smaller area. There’s a really good ramen bar near my apartment. We could go there and not be recognised,” Younghyun suggested. You contemplated this. What was the worse that could happen? Younghyun was just trying to help and be friendly.

“Okay,” you briefly replied before tuning you head to look out of the cars window.


It was late once you arrived to the neighbourhood Younghyun lived in but fortunately, the food place was still open. You both took a booth nearer the end of the restaurant where it was much quieter. After ordering your food. Younghyun leaned over to ask you something.

“Now, what do you need help with?” he asked, crossing his arms before leaning on them.

“I don’t know… I suppose you never know what’s wrong with your own writing. I’m not saying that my writing is perfect or anything, but it’s hard to critique it too…” you explained. Younghyun nodded his head in agreement and bit on his lip as if he understood what you meant completely.

“You’re a good writer Y/N, you have a way with words,” Younghyun complimented before starting on his bowl of ramen. You attempted to hide your face which was beginning to grow warm. You appreciated his comment.

After you had both eaten, Younghyun offered to let you stay at his place if you wanted to study. You replied saying you were tired and wanted to call it a day for studying.

“It is late, so if you wanted to stay at mine you’re more than welcome,” Younghyun replied. You knew you really shouldn’t. It was a bad idea. But it was really late and you house was almost an hour away.

“I wouldn’t want to be in your way…” you trailed, both of you walking towards the exit of the restaurant.

As you fished for money in your backpack to pay for your food Younghyung turned towards you.

“It’s fine, I got it,” he said, handing the waiter over money for your meal.

“You really shouldn’t have done that… I can pay,” you said to Younghyun. He ignored you and walk ed out the door,

“Are you coming?” he called, a smile on his lips. You followed Younghyun out of the door and into the dark night. The small suburban area was quiet and peaceful with only one or two cars passing by every so often.


Younghyun’s apartment was exactly what you would have expected. Not that you thought about his home, just it suited him. The small flat was actually rather spacious and the interior was minimalistic except for the walls stacked high with books. Younghyun caught you looking intently at all of the books.

“Take any you want, I don’t mind lending you any of them,” he smiled, walking towards the tiny kitchen.

“Would you like anything to drink?” He asked whilst opening the fridge.

“No, I’m okay but thank you anyway” you replied, still scanning the walls adorned with books after books. It was your dream to have a room like this - full to the brim and stacked high with books. He all types of books; old first editions that had been so worn you couldn’t even decipher the writing on the cover to books so brand new that had never even been opened. He owned books of every single genre imaginable. You truly admired this.

Younghyun carefully watched you as your eyes scanned every book title. It fascinated him that you had such an interest in all of the books he owned. Once you caught him looking in your directions, you hurried over to the small dining table where Younghyun was seated. You emptied your backpack and immediately began to work on your assignments. You refused any help from Younghyun while you read and researched for your projects. Younghyun understood that you wanted to do the work by yourself and he thought that was a very dedicated thing to do as a new and stressed out student. He sat in silence, while reading a book as you studied.

You had lost track of time. The day had felt so long to you with having classes that morning, a late study session at the library and then driving out to Younghyun’s neighbourhood to have dinner and then continue studying at his house. Everything felt weird.

“Hey, you’re not going to remember anything, I really do think it would be a good idea if you got some sleep. Do you have classes tomorrow?” Younghyun genuinely asked, pushing his seat out and sitting up before closing over his book. You closed over your laptop before stretching your arms and letting a yawn slip out of your mouth.

“No, I have a day off tomorrow. I can go home, it’s okay. Thanks for letting me stay here to work though,” you replied, also pushing out your seat to stand up.

“It’s two am Y/N. You can stay here it’s fine, honestly,” Younghyun insisted. You felt unsure, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

“I’ll be back in five seconds,” he smiled before rushing off to another area of the apartment. While he was gone, you slowly observed your surroundings, taking in the interior of his home even more.

Younghyun came back with a neat pile of clothes in his hands.

“Here you go, they were the smallest I had,” he smiled meekly.

“Oh, um thank you,” you mumbled. You tried to ignore the blush that was creeping its way onto your cheeks while muttering to yourself ‘Stop it, they’re only pyjamas, snap out of it’.  

“You can have my room, I’ll take the couch it’s-“ Younghun began to explain sleeping arrangements.

“No! I mean, it’s okay I’ll take the couch,” you interrupted quickly. You did not want to sleep in his room.

“Honestly, guests should take the bed, it wouldn’t be fair to give you the couch,” Younghyun tried to reason.

“No really please, I would sleep better on the couch, I- please just let me take the couch,” you attempted explaining to him. You felt exhausted and you really did not feel up to arguing with him and trying to get your way for much longer.

Younghyun looked slightly confused at your rather strange behaviour but he shook it off.

“Okay whatever you want. Help yourself to food and the bathroom is just down there and take a left,” Younghyun explained.

You thanked him before padding your way down to the bathroom. You quickly changed into the clothes he had leant you; a pair of black sweatpants that were far too loose and baggy as well as a plain green short sleeved shirt that could be mistaken as a dress on you. You had to admit though that the clothes were pretty comfortable. You took the hair tie from your wrist and pulled your hair back into a loose pony tail before you cleaned your face with splashing some warm water on your face repeatedly.

One you were finished getting ready for bed you attempted closing the bathroom door quietly as to avoid disturbing Younghyun, however he was stood int the hallway about to go in to his room.

“Night Y/N!” he smiled.

“Oh, goodnight and thanks,” you added.


You found it impossible to fall asleep. You lay flat on your back on the couch, staring blankly at the ceiling. This was crazy. You shouldn’t have stayed here. He wasn’t your friend, he was your professor. The stupid kiss at the party could be forgotten about, but you had to distance yourself because if you did become friends… someone could get hurt. Younghyun, although you had only known him for such a short space of time, you had never met a guy like him before. A guy that would talk about the same things you would and who had the same interest as you.

You placed both of your hands on your forehead before groaning in frustration. Why did you have the bad luck at meeting someone as likeable as him in such a difficult situation.

You don’t know when you did, but eventually you fell asleep.


You woke up to the the bright sun beaming through the living rooms binds. You flung your right arm over your eyes to shield them from the blinding sunlight. You groggily rolled off the couch trying to orientate yourself before you went to search for your phone which you soon located on the coffee table. The time read ten am. You jumped up alarmed at how late it was. Normally you woke up around eight ish but due to the lack of sleep you must have needed the lie in.

You ran into the bathroom to change back into the clothes which you were wearing yesterday. You folded Younghyun’s clothes that he had leant you into a neat bundle before leaving it on the couch.

On your way out of the apartment you spotted a small piece of notebook paper on the dining room table.

Morning Y/N!
Had to leave for classes. Hope your sleep was okay! There is breakfast left in the kitchen!
You’re more than welcome to stay over again,
See you soon!

Brian? You shrugged before leaving the note back down on the table. You looked over in the direction of the kitchen to see he had left you breakfast. A feeling of guilt washed over you. Younghyun had been so friendly to you and you had been nothing but cold in your efforts to distance yourself from him. But it was the right thing to do. You turned around and opened the front door to his apartment before closing the door behind you with a slam.

m a s t e r l i s t 


So these two pictures gave me an idea. I started thinking these two versions of RandL could be the same one, just years apart. And so I came up with a whole story for these two. 

I could probably turn this into a multichapter on AO3, but I’ve got too much going on and I still wanted to share it :)

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Jupiter in the fourth house -  Childcare College

Jupiter in the fourth house people are exposed to education and learning from a young age. The childhood home may be adorned with books and filled with discussion about the larger meanings of life. The inner world tends to be rich and dripping with infinite wonder. Copious time may be spent alone contemplating the universe with the laws and symbols governing the masterpiece. Jupiter is the planet of travel, and the fourth house symbolizes safety and home. Maybe the individual goes on tremendous voyages internally. His inner world is a map he detours through his heritage and depths of consciousness to conquer. The fourth house works on very unconscious levels, rooting from the bloodline of his ancestors, so its like his birth had been planned for his family centuries ago.

The fourth house is the home, and everything is expanded with Jupiter. Maybe he prefers to have a big house and the happiest moments are those spent with family. The parents may have encouraged individuality and taking delight in life. They may live to make him happy. It is also possible that certain religious ideologies were forced upon him or he was given too much freedom. The individual has a glowing spirit and a genuine nature, and there is a strong attachment with family. There also tends to be an acute intuition and vivid, prophetic dream state. Finding a sense of belonging is important, and there is a richness found in everyday life that is desirable. There is a great need for solitude and privacy, and one or both of the parents likely imparts profound wisdom. His home is like a sacred temple, and this is where he feels most content and at one with the universe. He may spend a lot of time in prayer. Children’s stories and make believe can remain lifelong fascinations. Walt Disney has Jupiter in the fourth house conjunct Saturn and Mars.

The individual with Jupiter in the fourth house can have a rosy coloured retention of memories. He may decorate his home in antiques from other cultures or spiritual items. Everything that dwells on the inside is extravagant and expansive. Dane Rudyher says that the “root of life” of the personality is strong and radiant. The individual may enjoy throwing parties from home and relish in the noise of children and happy family. Financial and emotional support tends to be provided by the parents and extended family late into life and unconditionally. Jupiter is the sense of jubilation and celebration. In the fourth house, it could mean that the individual brings a great sense of joy and pleasure into his home. He could be the golden child who emanates a gentle wisdom from a young age. The Jupiter quest here is through the branches of the family tree, where he finds a home in the memories of those who stood before him.


[art: joe webb]

I added a new item to my shop, The “Jane Austen Literature Charm Bracelet”.

“Pride and Prejudice”, “Sense and Sensibility”, and “Emma” book charms adorn the bracelet alongside faux pearls and beads. The charm bracelet is also adjustable in length!

Available at Black Flower Store on

Sweet Creature (M)

Justin Trudeau/Emmanuel Macron, First Meeting, Implied Sexual Content, Barack Obama/Emmanuel Macron, Non Canon Compliant, Love at First Sight, French Language, Top!Trudeau, Villain!Marine Le Pen, SongFic

TW: Trump Victory

Language: English Words: 1k Chapters: 1/1

Chapter 1
Emmanuel was new to the political scene. Only 39, he set out to change the world with his one dapper suit and an unwavering faith in humanity, a faith that he could leave the world better than he found it. In the political scene, he was isolated. There seemed to be no one who shared his beliefs and he felt out of place amongst the big name lobbyists and campaigners for Miss. Marine Le Pen. Marine was his main competitor, the antithesis of what he stood for, and it felt as if though it was her and the world against him and his ideas. Brexit proved that anything could happen and Trump’s election in America only sparked a wave of hatred that fueled Marine. They were calling her the Trump of France. Who was he amidst all this then? Obama, that wonderful man with which he had been infatuated through his entire run, had fled America. He had shaped his political views and inspired him to pursue what he loved. He remembered that night he spent in America, the weight of the world dissipating as Barack taught him things he had never known before… “Forget everything you ever thought you knew. It’s just us tonight” he had whispered in that dark oval room. He was the founding father of his heart. After Obama, it seemed that no one would come close to winning him the way he did; he would never love again. And so he drowned himself in his work.
Emmanuel walked into the conference room. His meeting with the Canadian prime minister was set to start soon. It was an understatement to say he didn’t want to be there. He despised these big suit, big money meetings full of irrelevant niceties. They distracted from the real issues. He’d much rather had been writing about those issues in his flat than standing demurely in wait for yet another lying politician.
And then, preceded by hordes of security, the prime minister walked in. Emmanuel hadn’t known much about Trudeau before today. He hadn’t known he would be so… immediately charming. The minute he walked in he took command of the room, his white smile flashing. He was tall and tan and his hair fell in unkempt waves. Emmanuel immediately knew that this was not an ordinary man. Amongst the old white politicians standing around him, Justin was a paragon of hope, bringing in a new generation of goodness. His suit seemed to constrain him. He looked as if he was meant to live perpetually free of formalities. Emmanuel related.
And Justin’s sparkling blue eyes set on him. They reminded him of the French Riviera. “Bonjour Macron! Comment allez-vous mon ami? Un Plaisir…” he said as he reached out his hand for a firm handshake. He maintained eye contact during the sustained touch, his palm calloused and rough. Emmanuel almost forgot to respond. He had also forgotten that Justin was a francophone. His voice sounded beautiful in his native French. Finally, he replied faintly “Bonjour monsieur.” With that, Trudeau pulled him in from the handshake to quickly whisper in his ear, “Enchante. Maybe once I get you alone, away from this Anglophonic press I can hear more of your French. It’s so refreshing to meet another politician who speaks the language of love, no? I would like to see you in my office later. I’ve been waiting a long time to meet you.” Emmanuel quickly let go of his hand for fear of doing something indiscreet. What was Justin suggesting? Trudeau had seen his picture in the news and read articles about his platform. He had obviously been anticipating the meeting. But what was the true nature of it? He was being delusional. It was common for politicians to have private meetings. And yet, he trembled in anticipation as he thought of a similar scenario, one that had led him to a locked oval office in the dark of the night.
As the meeting went on and formalities were exchanged Macron couldn’t help but noticing the way Justin looked at him. His head resting languidly on his fist, he eyed the candidate as if he were a feast. And then it was the prime minister’s turn to speak. Macron usually tuned out the ramblings of leaders pandering to an audience but Justin’s smooth voice captured him immediately. He spoke animatedly, passionately. He could ask the nations to follow him to the end of the world and Emmanuel would be the first to take up arms in his name. His eyes had a fire in them bright enough to ignite a flame that had the potential to change entire policies. Watching him talk, he felt as if he had finally found his political niche in a person with whom he shared ideals. Amongst the hatred prevalent in this election, he found an overwhelming love in this man that transcended politics and was, at its core, real. He was entranced. He ended, speaking directly to Macron “Who cares about winning? We should focus on serving.” He had been wrong about Trudeau. He wasn’t just another lying politician.
Everything after his speech was arbitrary. Emmanuel spoke, going through his usual points but with a certain inflection aimed to impress the Canadian whose eyes never left his face. The cameras flashed within the conference room and reporters scribbled notes furiously but Emmanuel was not flustered. He had a clear message and Justin’s expression made him feel confident and safe.
Later, once the press had settled down after his brief but fiery speech, the concluding remarks were exchanged. And that was it. Emmanuel shook the hands of what seemed like a million men and women in suits all the while keeping a relaxed smile on his face. And yet his mind was elsewhere. As he was walking out of the room, on to the rest of the campaign trail, a hand caught the sleeve of his suit jacket. It was none other than the Canadian prime minister. “Macron. It would be a crime to let you leave without speaking to you privately, away from all these cameras. Join me for the evening?”
“Prime Minister, I’m afraid I must go. There is much still to do in France.”
“And yet what is more important than the here and now. We’ve all the time in the world, Emmanuel. Join me. We’ve lots to talk about”
“I don’t know what to say. It has all been said” he replied nervously, employing any excuse to avoid facing the man of his dreams alone.
“Good. Then make no sound.” Justin hadn’t let go of his sleeve. He pulled him closer. “J’aime te faire rougir.” Truly, Emmanuel realized he had blushed at Justin’s words. He seemed adamant. What was he planning? Their eyes met as Macron contemplated. Why had the prime minister taken such an interest in him? And then, all at once, he allowed himself to be pulled through a mass of press, security, and politicians by Justin. They slipped away behind a column and ran into a dimly lit corridor, their footsteps echoing against the marble floor. Justin led him up a flight of stairs and the sounds of the commotion below them faded gradually. Eventually they found themselves in front of a beautifully constructed set of doors and Justin, ever the gentleman, opened one for him. Macron entered.
There, he found a gorgeously adorned room, lined with books whose titles were illuminated by a flood of golden light coming in from a desk side window, a window which overlooked the gardens of the Saskatchewan legislative building. The sun was setting.
“My personal library here.” Trudeau broke the silence. “I quite enjoy reading.”
Emmanuel walked towards one of the shelves. He saw authors of all sorts from Maya Angelou to Karl Marx himself. “How do you make time for so much reading?” He himself had been too busy to indulge in a good book or any literature besides legislation. “I suppose I take pleasure in books. These are all revolutionary writers. I never stop learning from them.” Macron was overwhelmed suddenly. “These authors… they have changed the world. They seem like political giants. How am I to match their prevalence?” He knew he was oversharing but somehow he seemed comfortable with Justin, like he had known him before. “Emmanuel…” he started “You are doing something unprecedented. I have to admit I’ve read much about you, and truly, you caught my eye from the beginning of the race.” Justin slowly approached him, hands behind his back, and a look of disbelief that Macron couldn’t see his worth. “You are exactly what the world needs right now. To so many people, you represent a new age of hope. To me, you represent a saving grace in Europe. Don’t you see Emmanuel?” He said with a light smirk and playfulness in his eyes, lit up with the orange light pouring in the windows. Justin was in his personal space now. He placed his hand against Emmanuel’s chest, feeling his picked up heart rate. “You are the flesh and blood of the new political age. Don’t you see? Les courbes de vos lèvres réécrivent l'histoire.“ The curves of your lips rewrite history.
Justin moved his hand up from his sternum to his jaw and traced the outline of his lips with his thumb slowly, gently, never taking his eyes away from them, his other hand still in his trouser pocket. Emmanuel could not believe what was happening. The hand he had shook earlier was now all but in his mouth. Macron closed his eyes and grabbed his wrist lightly. He couldn’t resist opening his mouth slightly, reveling in the intimate moment. Justin tilted his head slightly and narrowed his eyes, urging Emmanuel on. He took him into his mouth, swirling his tongue around and sucking lightly. “I must say, I’ve imagined this. That beautiful mouth of yours… so many beautiful words come out of it, so many beautiful words… I wondered what else it was good for.” Suddenly, Justin was the name of God on Macron’s lips. He sighed lightly opening his eyes to meet the older man’s gaze. He quickly bit the pad of his thumb. At this, Tudeau gasped and moved his hand to the back of his neck, pulling him in roughly. “Délectable, douce creature.”


Saint Anne - Feast Day: July 26th - Both Calendars

Prayers to Saint Anne

Traditional Prayer

Good St. Anne, you were especially favored by God to be the mother of the most holy Virgin Mary, the Mother of our Savior. By your power with your most pure daughter and with her divine Son, kindly obtain for us the grace and the favor we now seek. Please secure for us also forgiveness of our past sins, the strength to perform faithfully our daily duties and the help we need to persevere in the love of Jesus and Mary. Amen.

Franciscan Mission Prayers

Special Needs:

We thank you, dear St. Anne for the favors, known and unknown, you have obtained for us. Assured of your constant love, we bring our special needs to you… (Here mention your requests). Mother of the Mother of the eternal Word made flesh, kindly recommend to your Grandson, Jesus, these intentions we lift to you in confident prayer. Amen.

Parents’ Prayer to St. Anne:

We call upon you, dear St. Anne, for help in bringing up our family in good and Godly ways, Teach us to trust God our Father as we rear the precious heritage entrusted to us. May His will prevail in our lives and His providence defend us, these blessings we ask for all families in our neighborhood, our country, and our world. Amen.

Children’s Prayer to St. Anne:

Good St. Anne, you must have loved your parents just like we love Mom and Dad. They love us so much and take care of all our needs. Help us to make them happy every day. Thank you, dear Grandmother of Jesus, for listening to our prayer. Amen.

Teenagers’ Prayer to St. Anne:

Dear St. Anne, Mother of the Mother of God - become human, please bless our parents who said “yes” to life. Warm our hearts with love for them. May we give them every reason for joy, not distress. Into your hands we commit our future. Teach us to say “yes” to God’s plan for us in all the years ahead. Amen.

Significant Events in the Life of St. Anne

The name Anne (also Ann or Anna) from Hebrew Hannah meaning “favor” or “grace” of David’s house and line, was the mother of the Virgin Mary and grandmother of Jesus Christ. Anne is the Greek rendering of her Hebrew name Hannah.

St. Anne was born in Bethlehem and married Joachim from Nazareth in Galilee. Joachim was a shepherd given the task of supplying the temple of Jerusalem with sheep for sacrifices. After twenty years of marriage, they had no children. Once Joachim overheard ridicule because of their childless state. He went into the desert to plead with God to give them a child. After a time of fasting, the Archangel Gabriel appeared to him, assuring Joachim that they would be given a child and that they were to name her Mary and dedicate her to God.

Meanwhile, St. Anne, not knowing Joachim’s whereabouts, also prayed to God as she watched newborn birds in their nests in her garden. She cried out, “why was I born, Lord?” That is when the Angel appeared to tell her she would soon give birth to a daughter and she was to name her Mary. Both Anne and Joachim were shortly reunited at the golden gate of Jerusalem. After her birth, Mary was dedicated to God at the temple of Jerusalem where she spent much of her childhood. When Mary was fourteen, her parents betrothed her to Joseph of Nazareth. Mary’s story continues with the birth of Jesus, and his life on earth.

Dignity and Sanctity of St. Anne

“To St. Anne, God has given the power to aid in every necessity, because Jesus, her Divine Grandchild according to the flesh, will refuse her no petition, and Mary, her glorious daughter, supports her every request. Those who venerate good St. Anne shall want for nothing, either in this life or in the next……” Abbot Trithemius

How holy must have been the woman in whom the great mystery of the Immaculate Conception was accomplished. How holy the womb into which the fullness of grace descended, in which the child “full of grace” was conceived and took flesh. How great is the dignity of St. Anne, whose child, by a special perogative, from the first instant of her conception was preserved from all taint of sin. Holy was the root from which sprouted the tree that bore the holiest Fruit, Jesus. St. Anne’s sanctity was increased still more through this wonderful conception; and how highly must she have been sanctified who bore the Mother of God. As St. Jerome said: “Anne is the glorious tree from which bloomed a twig under divine influence. She is the sublime heaven from whose heights the Star of the Sea neared its rising. She is the blessed barren woman, happy mother among mothers, from whose pure womb came forth the shining temple of God, the sanctuary of the Holy Ghost, the Mother of God.”

Even her name “Anne”: signifies “gracious loving” and typifies her sublime destiny. She too had been chosen by God from eternity, and to her, as to Mary, may be applied the words: “The Lord possessed me in the beginning of His ways….I was set up from eternity.” (Prov. 8:22-23). God prepared St. Anne with magnificent gifts and graces. She may be compared to St. Joseph of whom St. Bernardine of Sienna wrote: “In the kingdom of grace the universal rule is: If God elects anyone for a special privilege and a sublime state, He bestows on that person all the gifts necessary for his state and adornment.”

In her book, The Mystical City of God, Mary of Agreda writes that St. Anne was the most chaste of virgins. She says: “From her very childhood, she possessed the fullness of every virtue. She was continually engaged in devout meditation. Her unceasing prayer was that the Redeemer might come soon.”

As the works of God are perfect, it was natural to expect that He should make St. Anne a worthy mother of that pure creature who was superior in sanctity to all creatures and inferior only to God. Had St. Anne not been adorned with angelic purity, she could not have become the mother of the Virgin of virgins. The great miracle of Mary’s Immaculate Conception fittingly took place in St. Anne’s pure womb.

Veneration of St. Anne

Baronius, a celebrated ecclesiastical writer, says: “Veneration of St. Anne is as ancient as the Church itself. In the East and in the West, she has been venerated from the beginning.” It is related that the Apostles themselves transformed St. Anne’s dwelling at Jerusalem into a Church. She is one of the most popular Saints of Holy Church because of the plenitude of her virtues, the height of her exalted dignity and her close relationship with the holiest of all persons, Jesus and Mary.

After St, Joseph, no Saint enjoys such widespread veneration as good St. Anne. It would be impossible to enumerate the churches and chapels dedicated in her honor, and, over the course of centuries, the manifold favors that have been granted and astounding miracles wrought. The number of churches having an altar or image in her honor is constantly increasing. Love and veneration of the faithful for St. Anne is manifested in a practical way by giving the name “Anne” to girls in baptism. Certainly, after the name of Mary, none is more beautiful. Frequently the two names, Mary and Anne, are combined.

"The Tempest"

Another short fic, inspired by a pair of @meldy-arts sketches (here, and here) and set between the events of “Trials of the Darksaber” and “Legacy of Mandalore.”

Words: 2,123

Ezra blew a soft stream of warm air through his hands, warding away the tingling discomfort of the early morning chill. The faint orange glow of dawn approaching had only just begun to illuminate the eastern Atollonian mesas, the indigo of night still dominating the sky overhead. 

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impulsive // michael clifford au [smut]

summary: in which michael is angry, impulsive and in love. // based on this post.

warning: contains sexual situations, drug use, abusive behavior & violence.

word count: 8k+

Nobody fucked with Michael Clifford, nor did they even stare too long at his closest friends, Ashton Irwin, Luke Hemmings and Calum Hood. It wasn’t like they were popular, necessarily, because nobody tried to be their friend and very few girls tried to pursue them, but because of all the talk surrounding them. All four boys were from the sketchier, poorer part of the town and, adorned in skinny jeans, books and band t-shirts that were faded and ripped at the seams.

None of the four boys ever supported the rumors, of course. They were generally quiet, keeping to themselves and they didn’t even obnoxiously backtalk to the teachers (on the days they actually came to class, that is). But they weren’t denying the rumors either - it was almost like, whether it was all true or not, they wore the rumors as armor to keep people away.

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Scribbles (drabble)

I got this idea on my lunch break today, and I just had to write it down. Let me know what you think. As always it’s Sam fluff.

Also, let me know if you want to be added to my tag list: all, or just certain characters. Just drop me a line.

Word count: 780

You were hunched over the table, surrounded by mountains of books. Some were small, just the size of an average KitKat, others were huge and weighed as much as a fully-grown beagle. You’d been through them all; trying to find something – anything – to help you on the upcoming case.

Sam had taken off earlier, driving into town to get some supplies, while Dean had sat with you for a while, leafing through a couple of the books, but after about thirty minutes, he had yawned so big his face threatened to split in two. It had taken a good deal of persuasion from you before he reluctantly agreed to go to bed. He needed to be well rested for the next day: it would be a long drive.

To be honest, you probably should’ve gone to bed too, but you just couldn’t seem to relax. Not when there were research to be done and knowledge to acquire. You would never forgive yourself if you accidentally missed something that would keep injuries to the minimum. So you wrapped a blanket around your shoulders and made yourself comfortable, and slowly worked your way from “Cryptozoology: what the scientists don’t want you to know” all the way through “Rare and Ominous Spells of the 15th Century”.

Needless to say, you found nothing. Hours wasted on conspiracy theories and animals that looked promising, but turned out to be hoaxes or just not the right kind of monster. Still, you managed to jot down a few pointers in your notebook, though most of the page were filled with scribbles as boredom wound its tentacles around your brain, luring you into the Sandman’s arms, and soon enough your hand moved on its own accord, doodling stars and swirls and hearts, and feeble attempts to copy the calligraphy adorning the older books you’d been reading.

You yawned and blinked a couple of times, before nodding and jerking back up again. The pen clattered to the floor, but you were too far gone to notice as your eyes glided shut and your head landed softly on the table, cushioned by your left hand. Before five minutes were gone, you were sleeping soundly, dreaming about sunshine and spring and dancing with Sam. And that’s how he found you when he got home.

After putting away the food in the kitchen, he went through the bunker looking for company. Dean was sleeping, that much was clear from the sounds coming from his bedroom, but maybe you were awake still. He soon realised that wasn’t the case when he entered the library. All he could see at first was your legs sticking out from under the table: the rest of you were hidden behind stacks upon stacks of books, and when he got closer, he heard the soft breathing from your hiding place.

Seeing you so relaxed and carefree brought a gentle smile to Sam’s face. You were always so worried before hunts – making sure the three of you were prepared enough to come back in one piece. He ran his hand over your hair – just a ghost touch – careful not to wake you up, tucking a lock behind your ear. It felt like silk under his fingers, and the sensation sent tingles up his arm and straight to his chest. His heart skipped a beat, and he wondered if you ever could feel the same.

You sighed in your sleep, snuggling into his hand, which was still resting lightly on your cheek.

“You can’t sleep here,” he whispered, moving around the chair, stroking your shoulder, but you didn’t wake up. “It’ll hurt tomorrow,” he continued, still barely making a sound. “That angle will kill your back.” He was really just making excuses for himself, but at least there was some truth in his words.

Slowly, tenderly, he slid his arm behind your back and one under your thighs, and hoisted you up, cradling you close to his body. A quiet sound of utter bliss escaped your lips, and he had to bite his cheek to not bury his face in the hair that fanned out over his arm and shoulder.

As he turned to carry you to your bedroom, he glanced down at the notebook on the table, and his heard did a double skip. You’d scribbled his name inside a frame of hearts, filling every empty piece of paper with filigree and more hearts.

There was no hiding the smile on his face. It felt like his entire body filled with sunlight and butterflies, and he pressed a small kiss to the top of your head. “Sleep now, sweetie. Tomorrow we’re going to have a little talk, I think.”

Tagging my sweet crew:

@awesomeahwu @brynleewolfe @funwithfanfics @babeinthebowtie @savingapplepie-eatingthings @winchesterprincessbride @savvythedork @isamthereforeiam @schwarzwaelder-kirschtorte