but i did more than half yesterday




Little Friend

Summary: Dean wakes up with a killer hangover and very little memory of the night before. The reader fills him in. 

Word Count: 1,500ish

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: crack, fluff, mentions of drunkenness and bad hangovers

Author’s Note: This was written for @death2thevirgin Cassie’s Classics Challenge. Congratulations on your followers! If you’re not following her, I definitely recommend it. My prompt was “Say "hello” to my little friend,“ and I had so much fun writing it. I hope you enjoy! 

Originally posted by aborddelimpala


Your name: submit What is this?

Dean knows as soon as he wakes up that he is in trouble. His mouth tastes like something crawled in and died sometime in the last ten hours and there is a pounding in his head that makes him want to die. The room is pitch-black; lights off and the door closed. He fumbles for the bedside lamp and nearly dies when he successfully turns it on. Thank Chuck that whoever put him in bed had left a puke bucket by the bed. He hasn’t used it yet, but it is looking like a strong possibility before he notices the bottle of water and two painkillers beside the lamp.

He groans and makes his way into the kitchen. Sam is blenderizing something green that was clearly never meant to be eaten for breakfast. The noise echoes insides Dean’s head, ricochets against the inside of his skull, and settles as a throbbing between his eyes.

“Dude, what happened last night?” Dean asks.

“You mean you don’t remember?” Sam eyes him, eyebrows raised. He’s clearly not surprised.

Dean groans in response, letting his head fall to the table in defeat. “No. Did I get cursed again?”

Sam grimaces as he pulls the eggs and jam from the refrigerator. “No, just the usual hangover. But when Y/n wakes up, you might wish you had been cursed.”

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Fake rumors (Peter Parker x Reader)

Request: Hi ! Could you please do a Peter Parker imagine, the reader is not popular, and she is being bullied at school by a girl, she circulated a rumor about her private life , and Peter becomes very protective, he is very angry and he confronts the bully,the reader think peter had never notice her before but she was wrong and peter told her he has a crush on her ^^can you do a lot of fluff pls ? and the bully very angry and sad at the end? i want justice lol

A/N: I just want to say that slut shaming is bad and no women should ever do it. If a woman ever wants to sleep with ten men that night, then so be it. It’s her body and her choices. With that being said, I hope you enjoy this imagine!

When [Y/N] entered school that day, she knew something was off. Everybody kept looking at her, the girls whispering and the boys looking her up and down. She made her way to her locker, trying to ignore the glances everyone was throwing at her. She made a mental list of everything that could be wrong -her t-shirt was not inside-out; she wasn’t on her period, so her jeans couldn’t have a stain; she had her hair on a pony tail and, okay, maybe her make up that day wasn’t the best because she had fallen asleep and had only had time to apply concealer, but it was not that much of a deal.
She opened her locker and took the books she would be needing that day, hoping to get away from everyone.
‘’Hey, sweetie’’ a voice called behind her. She turned to look at whoever was talking to her and saw Michelle, the popular, yet mean girl in her school. ‘’How are you?’’
She didn’t know what to say -she had talked to Michelle a few times in class, but not more than that.
‘’Fine, I guess?’’ she told her. [Y/N] knew something was up, and she knew it had something to do with Michelle, but she didn’t want to ask.
‘’What did you do yesterday?’’ Michelle asked. ‘’Oh, wait, do not tell me. I already know’’ that made [Y/N] furrow her brows, not knowing what she meant. ‘’Let me say it for you. You went to the football practice, and after that, you… How can I say it without sounding rude… Well, you gave head to half of the team in exchange of popularity, right? At least, that’s what half of the school thinks’’ she told her with a smirk.
[Y/N]’s breath hitched as she opened her eyes wide.
‘’But… But that’s not true’’ she whispered. People were already looking at her and Michelle, wondering what was going on.
‘’Maybe it’s not,’’ Michelle said ‘’but people don’t know that. You should have thought about the consequences before making a move on my boyfriend, bitch.’’
‘’What do you-what do you mean?’’ [Y/N] asked. She didn’t understand what was going on.
‘’Jack is what I mean. Yesterday morning at Maths you were flirting with him, and I don’t like having what’s mine stolen’’ she hissed.
‘’I was-I was asking him about an answer for a problem!’’ [Y/N] said, remembering everything from the day before.
‘’Oh, were you?’’ Michelle asked, looking surprised. ‘’Well, too bad, right? Nothing we can do now.’’

Meanwhile, Peter had been listening to the conversation from his locker. His hearing allowed him to hear every word, the rage bubbling inside him. [Y/N] didn’t know him, but he had always had a crush on her, admiring the way she was always kind to everyone.
He approached Michelle and [Y/N], thinking of what he should say.
‘’Hey, Michelle,’’ he started, making both girls look at him ‘’have you told Jack already about that time you slept with Mike at his party? It was in his bedroom, right? While he was looking for you. It would be such a pity if he knew, wouldn’t it?’’ Peter said, a smirk on his lips.
‘’What do you-how do you know that?’’ Michelle asked, her face pale out of the sudden. ‘’You don’t even go to parties.’’
‘’Turns out I went to that one’’ Peter said. He had only gone to pick up his friend Ned, who had thought it would be a nice idea to go uninvited and had ended up being kicked out.
‘’What do you want to keep silence?’’ Michelle asked through gritted teeth.
[Y/N] stood there, not knowing what to do. She knew Peter from some of her classes, although she had never spoken to him. She found him nice -even cute-, but she didn’t understand why he was helping her.
‘’You are going to tell the whole school you started that rumor because you were jealous, and if you ever bother [Y/N] again, I will not hesitate to tell Jack the truth. And do not think for a second that he won’t believe me. I took pictures for blackmail’’ he said. He actually hadn’t taken any photos -he was not a creep; but Michelle didn’t know that.
‘’Fine’’ she said. ‘’But if you ever tell him, you are done.’’
‘’Oh, don’t you worry. It’s all on you. Be nice and you will have good karma’’ he said with a smile on his lips as Michelle left to tell people everything was just a lie.
[Y/N] looked at Peter, a soft smile on her lips.
‘’Thank you’’ she told him, pressing her books against her chest. ‘’You didn’t have to.’’
‘’You didn’t deserve it’’ Peter said, a grin on his face. ‘’Would you, I don’t know, like to go out for coffee or tea or whatever you like if you like to drink, which I guess you do, because, you know, it is necessary for the body, sometimes? It’s totally fine if you don’t want to and I will understand’’ Peter asked [Y/N], feeling nervous at the sudden attention she was paying to him and, therefore, rambling.
‘’I would love that’’ [Y/N] told him, a smile on her lips. ‘’I believe we have English together now. Would you like to walk together? We can decide when to meet on the way’’ she asked him.
‘’Yeah, of course’’ Peter answered, smiling hugely and not believing that he was actually going on  a date with her.
[Y/N] stole a glance at him and smiled, thinking that maybe that rumor would actually lead to something -or someone- good.

Roommates pt3

Mature, otherwise enjoy!

“Open the damn door idiot!” 

You yell at him to open the door. Your hands were filled with very heavy groceries. He opens the door too see you struggling. You huff out and push the two bags in front of him. 

“Help me please?” 

“After you call me an idiot? No way.” 

Justin moves out of the way, signalling you with his arms to the kitchen. 

“It’s really heavy!” You groan out. 

Justin sees and finally just gives in. He easily holds the bags and brings them on the counter. 

“Did you get the cereal I wanted?”

 Justin digs through the bags to find his favourite colourful cereal. 

“This means i don’t have to pay you back for lunch yesterday right?” You half joke out. 


“By the way, did you pay the bills this last month? They haven’t came yet.” 

“Yeah. is that a problem?” 

“Where did you get the money from? I mean you don’t work or anything, student allowance isn’t that much is it?” 


Justin has been receiving more than enough money from his dad back at home. School wasn’t that expensive, he had quite a lot of leftover money. The bieber family was quite lucky to be exact, their dad’s was the CEO of a very large company. Over the last years money has been quite easy for them to make. 

“They must love their precious son.”

You glance back at Justin as you put away the groceries. He ignores your teasing comment. 

“Can you finish up, I need to take a shower. I feel so gross.”

While showering, you still can’t believe justin would help you finanically.

You suddenly hear a sudden knock at your bathroom door.


“I need a big favour!” 

“Yeah, go on.” 

“Can my friend come over?!” 


You walk out, freshly showered, in a tank top and shorts and plop yourself on the bed. 

“Come out Y/N!”

You hear justin yelling your name to come out. I mean you were quite older than those young college kids. 3 years? Its been 5 years since you went school. You never went uni, you didn’t know anything about ‘homework’ anymore. 

“Hurry up!” 

You sigh out, wrapping yourself up in a robe as you feel your sleeping attire was not appropriate. You walk out to spot three different people in your home. You want to kill Justin as he said ‘friend’ and not ‘friends.’ Justin waves you to come over, 

“Sit.” You see a familiar face. 

This was the guy you were dancing with at the club a while back.

“Y/N!” he screams out, “AYE!”

You wrinkle your eyebrows at him. 

“Khail, Za and Kendall.” 

You wave a little hi, acting like a nervous turtle. 

“Stop being a weirdo. We’re playing a drinking game.” 

widen your eyes, drinking game? These kids were not legal to drink yet. 

“We’re both 21.” Khalil indicates to him, Za and kendall. 


You were only on your 2nd bottle. 

“I need to pee.” 

You rush your way to the toilet. 

“I think you should stop now.” 

Justin seriously tells his friends to stop. They had been refilling your drink, making you think you aren’t drinking much but in reality you were on your 7th bottle. 

“Why. She looks like she needs to chillax.” Za jokes out. 

You jump back out, this time without your robe. Feeling giggly and you seat down beside Justin. 

Your head really hurt now, you plop your head on Justin’s leg, holding out your cards in front of your head. 

“I can see you cards.” 

“Stop looking then.” 

“I can see your underwear.” Za points out as a joke. 

Your head slams up, knocking up Justin’s chin in the process. 

“Ow. Fucking hell Y/N.” 

Justin clutches his jaw, his eyes shut in pain. You cover your mouth at what you just did. 

“I’m so sorry.” Justin gets up and walks away from the scene. 

“Haha-we’ll just go now. See ya Y/N,” Khail nods as the others began to get up. 

You quickly turn around, “oh bye! Wait are you ok to drive?” 

“Dont worry about us, worry about pretty boy over there,” he smirks.

After they had left, you go on to check on Justin. 

“Are you ok?” you ask him.

you stand beside as he lies down with his arms wrapped around his eyes. 

“Dont wear that again.” 


“Those fucking shorts. They are so fucking short ok?” 

“these arent short..” you look down at your pj shorts.

They must’ve risen up, you thought. Fine, next time you’ll cover up when you’re in front of his friends. 

“They are, they don’t even look like shorts. Cover up.” 

Sure they were a little short but justin had no right to tell you off like this, it’s the 21st century, i could wear whatever i want. 

“Whatever.” you wave him off. 

“I’m serious Y/N.” 

He was started to sound like an old man, he was starting to sound like Andrew. 

“You’re my not boyfriend. Dont tell me what to do” 

You turn around to see Justin look up at you before his eyes flicked back down to your bare legs. He suddenly grabs your thighs with his large hands and drag you forwards. 

“These,” he indicates to your legs, “are mine.” 

Before you could say anything, he places a gentle kiss on your upper inside of your right legs. Justin could help himself. Even his friends all notice how thirsty Justin was, just not Y/N. Justin tried to hold off the entire night, but now he could not hold off any longer. Justin glances to find your eyes solely following his every move. This made him more confident to go further. 

He quickly switches positions and sits down on the bed. He traps your body between his legs with his large hands secured around your back thighs. He leans down to place kisses down your inner thighs. You squirm under his touch, the sensation going straight to your lower stomach. 

“Can I?” 

He points to your bed shorts, asking for permission to let them go. 


Your voice is quite, scared maybe. He pulls them off your hips, them falling straight down your legs. You’re now left in your lace panties and cami. He suddenly latches his mouth over your heat. Despite taking you by surprise, you encourage him more but pushing his down a bit more, thrusting your hips up. 

“More.” you breathe out. 

With this Justin chucks you down onto the bed. He hovers over, staring into your face. 

“Kiss me.” 

He doesn’t think twice and moves his soft lips against yours. He slips his tongue in, furthering the kiss. You pull away. You stare down at him, still in full clothing. 

“Take this off.” 

He quickly moves back to remove his black hoodie, in the process, his white t shirt rises up a bit, you get a glimpse of his tone abs and a tattoo you’ve never seen before. There was a small bird on his lower hip. He moves his attention back to you. 

“This too.” 

He doesn’t hesitate. With his upper body now bare, you reach your hands over his inked body. He watches you. 

“These are mine.” You tease him with his words. 

He gulps down, your fingertips a little too close to his south. You smiled as you see him a little nervous. You thought he was ‘experienced’ as you heard many rumors about him being a playboy. You kind of wanted to test him now. 

You move down and touch his manhood. He lowly groans out. You watch him take his bottom lip between his teeth. Wow, this was quite hot. This made you feel more confident, not scared anymore, maybe a little motivation as well. Now you really want to show Justin a good time. 

“Take these off.” 

Justin was about to, but he notices you still had your tank top was still on and also notices how you were enjoying this a little too much. He rips it apart, literally. Before you could tell him off for ripping your shirt, he want down your bra, exposing your soft nipples. 

He latches down on your left nipple, pulling at it. You moan out, the pleasure rising up faster than before. You were so sensitive, not having any action in the last month or two. 

“Stop fucking teasing me Y/N.” 

He kisses down your stomach, closing his way down to your dripping womanhood. You rise up your hips, wanting him to eat you out already. He glances down to see you’ve already made a wet patch. Too even aroused to be embarrassed, you reach down and touch yourself, letting out a moan of relief. 

Justin yanks your wrist away and quickly inserts a single finger in. Before having anytime to stretch, he begins moving his large digit in a steady pace. You shut your eyes closed, the pleasure so amazing, knocking the breath out of you. Your grip the bedsheets tightly and take your bottom lip between your teeth. Justin watches you enjoying the pleasure. He seemed to enjoy it more than you. You were so captivating, his eyes were taking everything, but mostly your expression. 

He reaches down and pulls at his pants, quickly pulling them past his hips. He pulls his shaft out, hard and red, liquid already visible. He groans deeply as he wraps his hand around himself.

 “Ugh, fuck-” He suddenly opens his eyes to see your mouth around shaft. He was too into pleasuring himself, he totally forgot about you. He finally realises his finger had already stopped moving. You grab his finger and bring it to your mouth, licking around his finger, lasting yourself. You tasted salty, a little bitter. You scrunch up your face. Justin looks at your, totally drowned at how freaky you were. 

“You’re fucking driving me crazy.” You smirk at him. 

“So good.” you say as you spread your legs out for him. 

He twitches at the sight of your legs spreaded for him, your core open for his lustful eyes. You wanted him as much as he did. You just wanted him to hurry. Justin seemed to be struggling more than you thought. Wasn’t this a playboy, you were dealing with? 

You glance down to his shaft. He was rock solid and his tip was red, almost swollen. Your mouth watered at the sight. 

“C’mon, show me a good time.” you encourage him, hoping he’ll fuck you already.

He alligines himself at your heat. He plunges in. He feels your tight walls around him. 

“Holy shit. So tight.” 

You glance up to him biting his lip so hard, it looked as if it was about to bleed. 

“Are you ok?” he spits out, choking on how much the pleasure was for him. 


He starts off slow. You feel him while, stretching your walls so wide, almost like a rubber band. He was definitely bigger than Andrew’s. You almost cry out, not really expected him to slam into you. He continues to plunge into you. 

The pit in your lower stomach rising very quickly. Both of you let out loud pants, not being able to let out any words. 

“Y/N.” he barely lets out, “I’m there. Fuck.”

 Justin wonders if you’re close to, he doesn’t want to spill too soon but with the fact your walls were so good around his shaft, it almost impossible hold back. He suddenly reach between your sweaty bodies and rubs at your sensitive bud, wanting to bring you closer. You moan out, the pleasure being too much, Justin’s rubbing and the pace he was moving his shaft in you made you let go suddenly. You grasp the bedsheets, your mouth in a ‘o’. 

“Fuck-f-fuck” Justin curses out loud.

Justin feels you clench tightly around his member, causing it to be the final straw as he spills his seed into you. Your eyes are still shut as you try to recover from your orgasm. Justin collaspes his sweaty body against yours. You open your eyes wide. 

“Justin!” you attempt to move his sticky body away from him. 

He rolls on the side. He opens his eyes at you. He gently pecks your bare shoulder. He wanted to stay like this forever. 

“I’m gonna go clean up.” 

Justin pouts at this. 

“Lets shower together!” you roll your eyes at his comment. 

“Have fun cleaning yourself.”

01.10.2017 this was my lunch yesterday, I forgot to post!
Boiled sweet potato and Brussels sprouts, half an avocado, smoked salmon on crispbreads with a layer of hummus and two poached eggs!

It was the first time I ever made poached eggs and it did fail a bit (one was more of a poached yolk than whole egg), but the end result was so good! Going to try and do them again today!

A (Big) Slice Of Happiness

The always lovely and super talented @kawereen requested Cullen and Demetra fighting over a slice of cake. My hand slipped, I wrote this thing (beware: fluff everywhere!), but I hope you like it anyway!

Plus, let me wish you all my dear followers and friends, a great HAPPY EASTER!

Cullen Rutherford X Demetra Trevelyan

“Hands off!”
She jolted, hearing his strong command, her fork falling on the floor. His chuckle made her blush and infuriate “You’re not nice scaring me in that way!”
“Oh,” he grinned, leaning against their kitchen’s wall “instead you are so nice trying to steal that last piece of cake.”
“I wasn’t stealing.” she replied, a bit offended, ready to knee and pick the fork up.
“Wait,” he said doing that for her “let me help you.”
She smiled, grabbing his shirt and pulling him closer “You’re so kind. The kindest husband. And you need a bath!” she said, wincing, after her quick peck on his sweat cheek. He laughed again “Well, the new horses arrived this morning and Branson was more than happy to have me there to help.”
“And returning home you stopped to help the workers at the Shelter.” she smiled, noting a slight track of calcimine between his hair. Cullen nodded “The works are proceeding quicker than expected. I think that in four – five months we’ll be ready to open the Templars Shelter. Cassandra’ll be relieved, I think.”
“Yes,” Demetra agreed, remembering her friend’s words in her last missive “now that the word got around and that Leliana is promoting the permanent abolition of lyrium in their ranks, I’m not surprised that so many Templars want to try and change their life.”
“I think Cassandra and her new Seekers are doing well, travelling around and spreading the news.”
Their thoughts flew to the Seeker, busy in offering Templars a new way to live, a new method to cover their role without the lyrium, and training the one who were willing to give it a try in techniques very similar to the Seekers’ ones.
With the approval of Leliana –  the Divine Victoria, Demetra reminded to herself – Cassandra was ready to help Cullen in giving the Templar Order a chance in the new world.
“Anyway,” her husband voice interrupted her reflections “we still have a couple of things to settle down before opening it, right?”
She followed his tender glare, nodding again.
“Where’s Grace?”he asked, looking around. She couldn’t hold back her smirk. She was actually surprised he didn’t ask earlier. Since their first daughter was born, the former Inquisitor loved joking that now she was at the third place in his husband’s list of most loved ones, after Grace and his Mabari. Maybe the fourth, after his chessboard. Of course, Cullen protested everytime, usually sat in his favorite armchair, with Grace on his lap and Inquisitor barking happily at his feet. It suited him, that serene, domestic atmosphere, as she had always suspected when her dream to share a life together had to be put aside for facing all the battles they did.
“Grace is in the garden, with Inquisitor of course.” Demetra answered, her voice playful “I fear you’re not his favorite member of this family anymore.” He looked beyond her shoulder, probably catching a glimpes of dark red curls bouncing between the flowers.
“Yes, well,” he chuckled, shaking his head “I can’t blame him. She’s lovely. As her mother.”
“Oh, stop it, you sweet talker.” she tutted at him. Noting he had taken the plate with the last piece of cake which Mia sent them, she quickly moved to grab it back. With a half smile, half huff, Cullen kept the plate out of her reach. She looked at him in disbelief. Cullen’s love for cakes and butter cookies was well known everywhere, but this didn’t give him the right to not share with her!
“Cullen, that’s my slice!”

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A Weapon Called Jealousy

The wonderful @tfadi mentioned something about Megatron being crushed between two jealous OPs in a post,, so I thought I might give a go at turning it into a little ficlit thing like they wished could exist. :) We’ll see how much I can butcher this one.

They had been living like this for a while now, at least two human weeks. All three of them, together, sharing the same suite.

Things had been, strange, to say the least, since Optimus had split, as some were calling it. No one knew how it was possible or how it had happened, all they knew was that Optimus’s two aspects of his personality had been split from his body to form two separate Optimus Prime’s. One, kind, forgiving, graceful, open minded. was called Optimus. The other, rough, military, single minded, but still somewhat soft, was called Prime.

It was tiring for everyone who knew the Prime, er, Primes, but it was by far more challenging for Megatron. Both bots liked him just as the single Optimus had before, but since there was two of them they had had to work out a system for who got to do what with Megatron when, lest the two halves be at each others throats for his attention. As tiring as it was, Megatron enjoyed the challenge, and the rare moments when both bots got along and everything was peaceful was a real treat.

He was snapped from his thoughts as he received a poke to the side that jolted him back to the present.

“Megatron, do you realize what time it is?” The sparkly eyed Optimus asked up to him from his spot laid out across the birth where Megatron had been sitting and reviewing data pads. He hadn’t heard the bot come over.

Megatron quickly checked his chronometer and his alarms that he usually had to alert him to when he needed to be doing something with one of his lovers. The time was thirteen hundred hours, there were no alarms set to go off, it was supposed to be his rare free time to do as he pleased.

“I apologize, I do not know.” He responded apologetically.

Optimus gave a pout.

“You promised we would go to the market to find some things for decorating,” he had a slight whimper in his voice.

Megatron winced. Now he remembered. Last night as he was drifting off he had indeed agreed to go to the market with the bot beside him. But he had been so tired that he had forgotten to set his usual alarms.

“I am sorry, I forgot completely, can you forgive me?” Megatron said sympathetically.

“I forgive you. May we still go? There’s still time,” the Prime said hopefully.

A small smile that he couldn’t stop popped up onto his faceplates. Whenever Optimus took up that hopeful look, he couldn’t help himself but smile and say yes to whatever Optimus had asked.

“Of course.”

A smile sprung onto Optimus’s face and he clambered off the bed to stand where Megatron soon joined him. This version of the great Prime clasped his hand and started to lead the way towards the door. Although he seemed a bit childish, Megatron knew better. There was still the loyalty and knowledge of a Prime stored within this bot.

As they approached the door it slid open to reveal the other half of Optimus appeared in the doorway.

“Megatron, I apologize for being late, I- I’m sorry, am I interrupting something?” Prime asked.

“No, of course not. What was it that you needed?” Megatron inquired.

“Megatron and I were just going to go to the market.” Optimus pipped up from his side, sending a glare to the other Prime.

A look of slight surprise, confusion, and some irritation covered Prime’s faceplates.

“Megatron and I had agreed upon this time to spar, is that not correct Megatron?” Prime looked at Megatron for confirmation.

Megatron winced again. Yet again he has forgotten his prior agreement with the Prime. He had indeed agreed to spar with him, they had talked about it early yesterday morning when he had been groggy and still half awake. He needed to stop having conversations when he was half asleep, whether it be morning or not, it was getting him into more trouble than was worth.

“Yes, I did agree to spar with him, at this time.” Megatron chose his tone carefully.

An indignant sound of disbelief came from the Prime beside him at the words. He was in deep slag now.

“He said we would go to the market first so move.” Optimus called.

“Megatron agreed to my proposition yesterday morning. When did he agree to yours?” Prime said back.

Optimus took on a defeated look.

“Last night,” he mumbled.

The defeated look was replaced by one of challenge and defiance.

“But I got to him first so I get to be with him right now. You can go frag yourself for all I care.” Optimus lifted his head in a snobby way.

“That logic makes no sense whatsoever.”

“It would make sense to you if you weren’t so empty helmed.”

A growl escaped Prime and Megatron knew it was the last straw before they resorted to fists to solve the matter. It wouldn’t be the first time. Megatron stepped between the two large mechs quickly so as to keep them from murdering each other.

“Let’s try and be reasonable about thi- oof!”

Megatron had the air knocked from his vents as both Primes crushed him between their frames, trying to get to each other.

“Megatron is mine!” Optimus started.

“He is not. He doesn’t belong to anyone.” Prime retorted.

“Then why does he spend more time with you than me?”

“He does not, he uses his time equally between us. But if he were to choose who to spend more time with it would obviously be with me.”

“He would not. I want to spend today with Megatron!”

“So do I pipsqueak. He’s mine today.”

“No, he’s mine.”







The mechs started trying to get to each other, causing Megatron to be royally squashed between their bulky frames.

Megatron could barely hold back his dark smirk as he forced the two bots apart and began to reason with them and find a solution.

His plan was working beautifully.

He had earned the trust, the hearts, the want, the need, of both halves of Optimus Prime. Now all he needed was to wrap them a little tighter around his finger before he could initiate the second phase of his plan. To regain control of Cybertron.

Highlight Reel 02 ~ DNA Series (M)

Pairing: Jin x Reader (ft. GOT7 Jackson)

Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff, Royal AU! Soulmate AU!

Summary: You were so oblivious on your first life that you didn’t notice your soulmate was right in front of you, although it recognised you at first sight. While you were just living your first life at full, your soulmate learnt that not even magic can change your destiny.

Word Count: 11k+

Warning: Death and blood mention.

Preview - 01 - 02 - 03

DNA Series Mini Masterlist

A/N: Sorry I couldn’t post it yesterday, I wasn’t home. But I hope you like it ^^

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Blood and Tears (TW)


Sometimes pain is not something felt on the skin. Sometimes pain isn’t something felt by the body at all. Sometimes pain is something felt purely by the mind. Not in the emotional sense, but n the sense that sometimes your body can go completely numb to physical pain, and the only reason you know it’s there is because your mind tells you it is. This is what Eth was feeling right now.

The words kept ringing in his ears. “Well maybe you should just go back to fucking Maine then!”

It was a stupid fight. In complete honesty, he couldn’t even remember what had sparked it. Although at this point he was having trouble remembering a lot of things. His mind had started going blank, as it always used to when he did this. But that sentence rang in his ears like an annoying song that gets stuck in your head. Playing over and over and over, constantly with no breaks. It fueled his desire for the pain he was inflicting on himself. He had missed the sting of the small cuts, the burn of big ones. He had been clean for months; when he moved to L.A. he had promised himself to stop. And he had done well. Until now, that is.

He stared down at his thighs. Watched as the blood ran down his legs and pooled on the floor. He watched as tears dripped down, sending a stinging through his body pain as they hit his fresh cuts. He looked at the blade now sitting on the floor covered in blood. His hands hung limply at his sides as he sat on the floor of the bathroom, wanting to feel more than his body was allowing him to. He wasn’t sure if is was a psychological block that was stopping the pain, or if his legs had become desensitized over the multiple years of self-abuse. Perhaps a mixture of both, but at this point, he didn’t care. He just needed to feel something other than the pain in his chest over his boyfriend not wanting him.

Suddenly a pounding on the door startled Eth from his spaced-out mindset. He heard Ty yelling from outside the bathroom door, asking to be let in. Before today, Eth probably would have freaked out, trying to clean himself and the bathroom before someone could find out what he had done. But today he had given up. He continued to sit still and do nothing as the relentless pounding on the door only served as a reminder to why he was int his mess to begin with. Ty didn’t want him anymore. His own boyfriend had said he wanted him to move back to Maine, across the country. Ty didn’t love him anymore. The object of his happiness, the reason he had stopped cutting was slipping through his blood-covered fingers, taking any last resolve of wanting to live with him. He just didn’t care anymore. If he lost Ty, he had nothing.

After what seemed like an eternity, but in reality was only a few minutes, the pounding ceased for a few seconds. It was a short break but long enough for Eth to know that Ty gave up. He was done. These thoughts were very startlingly interrupted as the door flew open, half hanging of it’s hinges and Ty burst into the room. His eyes instantly settles on the blood-covered blue-haired boy sitting on the flooring leaning against the tub. Ty’s face instantly dropped with concern as he rushed to help. Neither boy said anything as he helped clean and bandage the fresh cuts. Eth continued crying, wanting nothing more than to beg Ty to love him again. But he stayed silent. He let Ty finish cleaning him up and he leaned against the tub, all energy and willpower gone from his body. He was near passing out when he felt himself being lifted and carried to a bedroom. Eth was practically already asleep when he felt Ty place him gently on the bed and cover him with a blanket before leaving the room.

Eth awoke the next day in Ty’s bed, surrounded by the scent of the man he loved. He gently opened his eyes, but was surprised to not find Ty in the bed with him. He was alone. Suddenly, memories of the day before came flooding into his mind and he instantly felt himself close to crying again. He could feel soreness on his thighs, a constant reminder of the events of the night before. He turned his head to the nightstand to check the clock and noticed a small paper folded in half with his name on it sitting next to a glass of water and some unknown pills. He grabbed the note first, opting to read it before taking the pills.


I know we fought yesterday, and I’m sure that’s what triggered what you did, but I want you to know that I absolutely do not love you any less than I did before. In fact, I love you more than ever before. I continue to love you more and more each and every day, and that will never change. I’m so sorry for everything I said yesterday, and I’m so sorry I led you to that. I hope you know how much I love you and how much I care about you. I know it probably wont mean anything if I tell you to stop, but whether you continue or not, I will always be there to help you through it. I love you Ethan Mark Nestor-Darling, and nothing in the world is going to get in the way of that.

Love, Tyler.

P.s. There’s iron supplements on the nightstand for you to take. When you’re ready, meet me out front so I can cook you breakfast. Love you.

anonymous asked:

Jay park drabble where your own tour with Jay and the aomg crew teases you about the hickeys Jay gave you

This turned out longer than I expected it to be, but here, hope you like it ! ^^

“Babe did you see that black pullover I was wearing yesterday?” Jay asks from the bedroom. “I could’ve sworn I left it on the chair…”

“I…hung it…in the cupboard,” You mumbled to yourself, each word coming out as a slow reply with every stroke of concealer you applied on your neck.

It had been a super rushed morning, both Jay and you oversleeping by more than half an hour which landed the both of you in a scrambling mess to get down for breakfast with the AOMG crew.

AOMG was on tour with the rest of the Show Me The Money cast in New York and it wouldn’t be at least a month before Jay would be back thus he suggested you tag along with him since you had leftover leaves to clear from work anyway. Despite it being sort of a business trip, there was more than enough time in between to squeeze in a handful of dates together so he thought, why not? Besides, it was a great opportunity for the both of you to travel overseas together – something both of you wanted to try for a while now – away from the scrutiny of tabloids and media.

“It’s not in there,” Jay said, sticking his head into the bathroom.

You sighed, a troubled look on your face as you replied him without even bothering to even look at him, “Then just wear another one, you can look for it again when we get back…we’re just going down for breakfast anyways…”

For a while he stood there, observing what you were doing and wondering why your make up was taking longer than usual and he couldn’t help but laugh the moment he realised what you were doing.

“Man that was some really good loving you got last night,” He said with a mischievous grin, walking up behind you.

“That’s very helpful of you,” You said sarcastically, moving on to the next spot on your neck.

Yes, you were covering up hickeys that he had left on your neck from some, well, night activity the both of you had last night. Sure you knew he’d leave some, but you didn’t realise how dark they were until you stepped into the bathroom and saw your reflection this morning.

He chuckled, wrapping his arms around you and resting his head on your shoulder as he stared at the reflection of both of you in the mirror, “They look cute though.”

You let out a sigh for the nth time, putting down your make up brush on the counter and turned to him, “Jay…we’re already late and I’d appreciate if you could-“

“Okay, okay, I’ll help you with it don’t worry,” He interrupted, amused, before you could even finish your sentence.

But before you knew it, he held you even closer to him, stealing one more kiss on your neck before dashing out of the bathroom, his laughter echoing throughout the room.

“Jay!!!!!!” You whined. “God, you’re so dead once I’m done with this!”

You usually wouldn’t mind or care too much about it, but this time you were the only girl travelling with a group of guys and the thought of a whole bunch of grown men (who’d obviously recognise the crimson spots) staring at your neck was making you paranoid. Yeah, you knew they were his close friends, and they knew the both of you had been dating for a long time, but still… Furthermore, Jay and you weren’t the kind to show affection in public. He’s always been pretty chill in front of them, not explicitly rubbing your relationship in their faces, but definitely a complete sweetheart when it’s time to play the role of your boyfriend. However, he still preferred keeping the part about holding hands, hugging and kissing between the privacy of just the two of you.

Eventually, the both of you decided to just cover up the more obvious ones and be more careful about the others below your ear, covering them with your hair.

“Good morning!” He greets them with a sheepish smile as he pulls out a chair for you. “Sorry for oversleeping, we forgot to set alarms.”

“Nah, its fine,” They assured the couple, gesturing for them to go check out the buffet breakfast spread as they had already started eating.

The two then went around filling up their plates before joining the rest of the crew again at the table, engaging in a chill discussion on their plans for the day since they had some free time in the noon before the concert at night. Despite it being morning, there was never a moment without laughter in the crew as jokes were shared and the boys holding up their phones in each other’s faces, trying to capture all the unglamorous moments on snapchat and it didn’t take long for the worries from this morning to disappear, the both of you completely enjoying your time at breakfast.

However, it came to a point where you had completely forgotten about it, your hand tucking your hair behind your ear as you were starting to get annoyed from how it was getting in the way and the boys started to notice one by one, using subtle eye signals to turn one another’s attention to the hickeys on your neck.

SO,” Ugly Duck started, trying his best to hide his smirk, “Why did you guys oversleep again?”

Jay looked up at them, puzzled by the sudden change in conversation topic.

“I think I heard a workout going on…despite being one level below you guys,” Gray added, the boys unable to hold back their laughter by now.

It was then when Jay caught on, his hand immediately reaching out towards your hair to cover the exposed hickeys below your ear.

Everyone was smirking right now, the guys exchanging knowing looks and raising their eyebrows at Jay, “You could’ve gone a little more easy on her, sajangnim.

Your cheeks turned a deep red, heating up from embarrassment and you kept your eyes on your food, too embarrassed to respond. Under the table you started tugging on Jay’s fingers as a way to ask him for help, and he gave you a little squeeze trying to calm you down.

“Ya…knock it off already,” Jay told them as he stole a glance at you…man he wasn’t even able to hide his flustered expression.

“I’ll-um…go get a drink…!” You said, standing up and walking away in a hurry.

As soon as you left the table, Jay shot a warning look at them, “Guys…what was that for?”

“Sorry man, just thought it’d be cute to tease you guys for a bit…heck, we haven’t even seen you guys kiss for as long as you guys have been dating!” One of them whined. “We were just getting a bit curious since it was so open for us to see anyways.”

Jay paused for a while, but after a brief moment of silence, he said with a smirk, “Of course I do a good jobI always do.

Then, the guys cheered loud ‘WOAH’s and ‘DAYUM’s, causing a huge uproar at the table, until Jay spotted you walking back from a distance, “Okay, okay, keep it down… I don’t want this to be the last time she’s tagging along for a tour hahaha.”

“A’ight, got it,” Loco said with a grin on his face.

Jay shook his head, “Gee, maybe I should change the terms in all your contracts, stating that you guys have to bring your girlfriends along too, then I probably won’t be the only one you guys would be ganging up against…”

September Goals

As it’s the last day of September here goes:

  • Practicing self care when needed ✅
  • Reaching 60kg on the scale ✅
  • Doing my first pullup ❌
  • Running my first 5k ✅
  • Being able to do 10 pushups ✅

Out of 5 goals I reached 4, which is really good. Actually the self care one is the most important to me and I am really happy how I did this month and am even more grateful at the support I got from my boyfriend and some lovely people on here 💜 the scale showed 59,8kg this morning and had been somewhere around the 60 the last weeks^^ I did run a few 5ks and am determined to do more in October! I can now do 10 Pushups in a row and 3 sets of them 😊 sadly I still can’t do one pullup, managed like a half yesterday and that’s more than I could do at the beginning of the month so there has been progress 💪

anonymous asked:

I have this headcanon that Enjolras gets so distracted??? So easily??? Like he's super driven and focused when he's in The Zone tm but if he's not, or if he's doing something he isn't really passionate about because he has to, he's just ??? So easy to distract??? And then Grantaire of course uses this to his full advantage

Holy shit, anon, you’re speaking my language here! Let me try and do this justice. 

“Grantaire, for the last time, please stop touching my hair.” Enjolras sounded desperate, and, by this point, he sort of was. He had a chemistry exam to study for, no Ferre for help, and the periodic table was quickly becoming a blur of colors in his eyes instead of anything close to usable information. The gentle tug of Grantaire’s fingers in his hair was driving him to further distraction, and the numbers and letters on the page kept swimming away from him instead of staying put and making sense like they were supposed to.

Grantaire dropped his hands away at the half-command, abandoning the partly finished braid. He took two steps back and fell onto the bed they definitely did not share more nights than not with a heavy whmph. “You didn’t mind it yesterday,” he said, feigning hurt feelings.

Enjolras tapped out a rhythm with his pencil eraser, frustratingly more focused on the specific spot than the words. “Yesterday it was history. History makes sense. It all fits together, and I understand it,” he muttered, adding a secondary beat with his heel. “Human nature I get, but this? I can’t understand the motivations of carbon atoms or heavy metals or noble gases.” He pulled a face at the word noble. “It’s all nonsense.”

Grantaire barked a laugh. “Only you could find the human condition an easier thing to comprehend than basic chemistry, Apollo.”

Enjolras turned, scowling, and chucked a spare eraser at his head. “Are you going to lay there and mock me or actually try and be helpful?”

“I’m good with mocking, thanks. Especially if you’re going to start throwing things at me.”

Enjolras turned back to the pages, despair in his eyes. “Why do I have to take this?” he asked, though whether that was directed at Grantaire or whatever deity oversaw his class assignments was unclear. “I’m doing two full courses here. History and law. Why, by everything that is good in this world, would I ever need chemistry?”

Grantaire pushed himself back up to sit, legs crossed. “How the hell should I know?” He tossed the eraser back; it pinged off the back of Enjolras’ chair and bounced away across the floor. “Maybe because great minds like yours and simple ones like mine are simply not allowed to dwell only on what they enjoy. It’s that ‘expanding horizons’ part of college kicking in.”

Enjolras swiveled his chair around. “Don’t call yourself ‘simple,’” he said flatly. “You’re in this class, too?”

Grantaire rolled his eyes. “Failed it twice.” He scooted to the edge of the bed and stretched far enough to hook his foot around the support of Enjolras’ chair. “I think I know what you need.”


Grantaire pulled the chair over and away from the desk. Enjolras floundered for his book but only managed to keep hold of his pencil and a few note pages. He whined, staring forlornly at his now distant assignment until Grantaire’s calloused hand grazed over his jaw and drew him away.

“Definitely not coffee.” The artist combed the fingers of his free hand through Enjolras’ hair, undoing his work on the braid. “Different kind of distraction.”

“Grantaire, please-”

Grantaire started an exaggeratedly slow chain of kisses at the base of his partner’s neck.

“-I really need to-”

A thumb grazed over Enjolras’ lips, catching an accidental kiss as they formed an o.

“This test is in the morn-”

A gentle nip under the edge of his jaw, and Enjolras came undone. He shifted from the chair to the bed in one quick motion, forgotten papers fluttering to the floor. He settled astride Grantaire’s lap and nibbled at his earlobe, teasing at that sensitive little space behind the artist’s ear until he drew out a heady, wavering groan.

“Ten minutes.” Enjolras spared a glace to his alarm clock while Grantaire nuzzled into the crook of his neck, one hand wandering along the curve of his spine. “Just ten. Clothes stay on. Then we go get dinner-”


“-and I finish studying when we come back. Deal?”

Grantaire barely managed to choke out “deal” before Enjolras tipped him back to the mattress and kissed him breathless.

my team has had a tough season. injuries, sickness & personal or family problems have been so present in each one of our lives in some way. but Jesus has also been present and constant in our struggles and He did a miracle for us yesterday. we didn’t even think we had a chance at making it to nationals this season, but yesterday gave us so much hope. now we have a shot at making it. we prayed at our team devotional the day before the race for Him to perform a miracle that couldn’t be explained and He did. we prayed that we would run with pure intentions, for Him & each other. i’ve honestly never felt Jesus so much in a race before & i just felt Him running right beside me the whole time. i was really sick yesterday, but prayed for God to run with me and take it away. i ended up getting my personal best for cross country yesterday & more than half of our girls did too. our team got 2nd place (better than we’ve done all season). we all cried & prayed & praised Jesus yesterday. it was a time of rejoicing. it was simply beautiful & i couldn’t be more thankful to be a part of a team who loves the Lord so much and truly lives for Him. He is so faithful, always. in our weakness, He is strong. the odds were against us, but nothing can stand against Christ & His power. He is so for us whether we win, or lose.

so like I already knew I was doing everything wrong yesterday cause I couldn’t work the metal correctly and I was more bending it than anything until the second half where I seemed to get a slightly better grasp of how much force I needed and also my mom’s friend kept telling me to hit harder and I saw vids of myself afterwards and it did look like I was not doing great but I didn’t realise just how many things I was doing wrong until today. since I woke up I’ve been doing some research on proper technique and like. woah. all that shock I sent into my wrist that left it shaky even up until now? could have been avoided even without having upper body strength. I thought it was just my arm that’s sucky. it’s still partially my arm. but also I was doing literally everything I shouldn’t have been doing

i’ve been running, off and on, for six of the last twelve months, including a really good stint in May, June, July, and August (i ran MORE THAN TWO MILES at once yall!!!!) took about a month off, now i’m back to it, and i want to incorporate lifting back into my routine, because it’s good for me blah blah blah. it’s been about six months since i did any exercise besides running, so i Hurt for like three full days after my work outs rn. but, i did leg day yesterday and my legs are only at like, half-mast agony? i think it’s because of the running??? anyway.

           It’s been nine days since William died. In that time I’ve been mourning his death, thinking, trying not to think, going into the reasons and spending time with his son, Zed Cutsinger. It’s hard to talk about this because I haven’t had someone so close to me die in a long time. I’ve helped console loved ones in their moments of grievance, and been witness to the terrible pains that friends and family members go through while dealing with loss, but this is different – this is a loss that is all too close, and almost inconsolable. Another very close friend of mine, Richard Speakes, had told me once that, “Adult life is often about things that are inconsolable” and I didn’t really understand those words until now.

           As we all get older we experience more, and sometimes those experiences act like a tiny ball of snow rolling down a mountainside (you know, the kind animated in cartoons) where that tiny piece becomes bigger and bigger and eventually it takes out a house, or an innocent passerby. The older we get the more stuff we see and experience, and often that means we will experience a lot that hurts. Edmund Spencer, in his epic poem, The Faerie Queene, argued something very similar. He believed that the longer one lived, the more sin they committed. This should be easy to understand, since the longer we live, the more sex, drugs, and darkness we’re introduced to, and so on. William had his fair share of everything. He had walked through the entire scope of human experience, and possibly other realms. This is what made him special. He somehow understood things no one else did, and he could articulate those ‘things’ with a fervor that was scary at times, but like many scary things – we want to know more. This was how I got into him. I wanted to know more.

           I was acquainted with Zed through music. We both played in North Bay hardcore bands. As Zed and I slowly gravitated towards each other, more and more stories about his father surfaced, and his father became this mythical figure. The most poignant ones had to do with William’s peculiar morning routines. I heard through a second party that he was a fruititarian once, and that one of his morning regiments was minerals found in ground-up rock dust, a tiny bit of his own urine, and a few rotations under the sun for vitamin D. This of course seemed weird, but I loved it. I’ve always latched onto people who are radical, and that have a perspective on the world that’s absolutely original. I could tell he was one of those people, and because of that I had to meet him. I even sensed our first meeting was approaching. It was as if I knew something was going to change in my life. I spoke with Zed about this yesterday, about the exact moment I met William, but we couldn’t come up with a definitive answer. All I remember is that it was very nonchalant, and I think it was so natural that it seemed as if we had always known each other. This was immediate. Zed was living in New York at the time, and I started speaking to William on the telephone more than Zed. These calls weren’t normal telephone call length. Some lasted two and a half hours.

           These phone calls lasted that long because that’s what William did for a living. He was an Astrologer and a numerologist. He told people about their lives through what he pulled from the stars and universe. I hadn’t been a believer in astrology up until our first serious talk. He told me things about myself that were too specific. The most terrifying thing he told me was that I “desire to be seen.” The argument about such comments is that they’re extremely universal, and can be attached to anyone’s persona, but it struck a heartstring in me, so I believed him, and I still believe him now because of its truth. There are many words that can describe this phenomenon, but the one that comes to mind is: reification. This means to name something, is to give it life. The things he said made me reevaluate myself. More importantly, they made me think, which is something we all should do. Often, we are far too detached from ourselves, and I think his art was the ability to remind us of that, and to realign those unknown parts.

           I unfortunately got the news via text. I had just touched down at San Francisco International, from JFK, and was in an okay mood. The fog was there, and the sun was below it, and everything appeared alright. Zed texted, “Hey,” two days prior and I had sensed something was wrong automatically. He doesn’t start a conversation with, “Hey.” Zed is more colorful than that, but quickly after he said something funny, which led me to believe things were normal. Nothing was normal. William had fallen down in the bathroom, and was rushed to the hospital. Zed didn’t want to “ruin my trip” and was worried that if I knew any of this information that I may have done something drastic, which I probably would have, so a day went by, and William went further into the tunnel. During the incident, his wife, Karen, ran in and asked him “What is the matter?” To which he replied, “It’s my time.”

           I imagine he said this with a calm face. I imagine he really was at peace with the idea that his life was ending, but of course – we will never know, so we tell ourselves he was. We create stories to justify the grief. He created stories, theories, genres, fables, comedies, descriptions that all approached life in a profound and authentic way. Because of this he was a true intellectual. He pulled from high and low cultures, always trying to get us to question everything, and because of this he was also a real punk. This is why Zed turned out the way he did, why he seems so radical with his comedy – he’s a true intellectual like his father.  

           I wandered around the airport for awhile after I got the news. I didn’t directly call Zed because I was in shock. William was the healthiest person I knew. I talked to him three weeks ago, and he had the same youthful vigor he always had, truly full of life. But it was the blood that got him. His blood was too thin, and his platelets were few, and couldn’t stop the rush to his brain.

           I took the Bart train home and listened to Scott and Charlene’s Wedding. They have a song called “Epping Line,” which is about getting a call on your cell phone about a death, and the strangeness of that. I was trying to find some kind solace, but there was nothing. I did the cliché stuff that people do – listened to sad songs, drank alone at a bar, and tried to diffuse the pain momentarily, which only heightened it, but sometimes that’s okay I guess.  

           William believed that we live in a predator universe. This means that all life continually consumes in order to survive, and that consumption can come in an array of different forms. We prey on living things, people who are less capable than we are, and on the actions and emotions that surround us. He believed strongly in the spirit world, which can be understood as anything beyond our temporal consciousness or the detectable universe – “detectable” meaning, what we know and are capable of experiencing with our five senses at any given time. Kathryn Schultz, a staff writer at The New Yorker, recently wrote that 0.3 per cent of the universe is dense enough to make stars, and that 0.000001 per cent of that density is in earthlike planets, and that the stuff which is near or close to our planet is a decimal that equals out to almost nothing. She relates this fact to the idea that we are a mere “speck of dust.” Many of us have heard this or similar notions because it reminds us of our miniscule existence, which I understand is humbling, and we are miniscule, but knowing someone like William, and seeing how he affected the people around him the way he did, I think the fact above is almost irrelevant. Our world is shaken so much by instances of loss that we in fact shake ourselves, and everything changes, which is hard to succumb to.

           Yesterday I was looking through books, and came across (coincidentally) the poet Philip Schultz. He grew up in the state of New York like William did and in the fifties too. Even though Schultz grew up in Rochester, while William was in Jamaica Queens, they share a similar upbringing because of their religious backgrounds. Both were raised in Jewish households, and this similarity haunted me a bit when I read Schultz’s concluding poem in his book, Living in the Past. I was introduced to this poem through Edward Hirsch’s book, Poet’s Choice. I carry the Hirsch’s praise because in times like this we have to connect to something in order to survive. The poem is a lament, and relates everything I’m feeling now, acts as an extension of my feelings.

     I wish the dead would take their bodies with them when they die.
     I wish they would not leave them behind. I wish they would take
     their dreams and streets and cafes. That they would understand why
     we cannot say or do with anyone else what we said and did with them.
     Why we cannot forgive them for leaving us behind.

           There is a bit of anger in these words, and a sense of unyielding reason that lives at the root of Schultz’s conclusion. I think all the people that knew William feel some kind of resentment because of the irreplaceable nature of his life. We are upset that we will never see, talk or hear him again in the physical world.

           I told Zed that I wasn’t breaking down emotionally like one would think because I didn’t feel he was gone. For some reason I know William is in the other room. I think I’m going to see him again, and I also think all the things he said to me are very relevant, and I can picture him vividly now.

Gingerbread Cookies

So this is a short from my Christmas Drabbles and Shorts series. I thought I’d post some fluffy Dramione as an apology to @shadu-kiam ;) and for @chiseplushie as well!

If you want to check out the rest of my fics then I’ll leave a link to my ff.net profile below.

Indieblue (ff.net)

  “How much flour?” Draco asked for the fifth time, bending over slightly and peering at the glass measuring cup with a perplexed look on his face.

  “Six, Draco,” Hermione replied, pulling her curls back into a high ponytail so they weren’t in the way.

  Hermione and Draco both kept to themselves when it came to their private lives; which is why they were somehow able to stay under the radar with their relationship until they moved in together. Rita Skeeter had followed the two of them from the cafe they had been having coffee at, into muggle London. They had been on the prowl for a new sofa, Hermione’s was too small Draco insisted, and she refused to bring any of the furniture from Malfoy Manor into their new home. Now they had been living in their home for almost two years, and Daily Prophet reporters continuously tried to get them to have an exclusive interview on how they went from mortal enemies to lovers. Draco was moments away from setting one of them on fire when Hermione did it for him.

   How far the Golden Girl had fallen was the title Skeeter came up with. Draco was livid; Hermione was more outraged at the horrid things Skeeter had written about Draco. Bright and early the next morning she marched into the Daily Prophet, calmly in a serene voice with a charming smile she said the words that stopped Rita Skeeter from writing another article ever again. “Rita Skeeter is an illegal animagus,” with a nod at the slack jawed reporters she turned on her heel and left; chaos unfolding behind her. Before she was locked away, she tried to get Sirius Black locked up again with her. Hermione was two steps ahead of course, making sure Sirius was registered the moment the War ended.

  “You could do that with magic you know?” Draco reminded his girlfriend as he walked behind her, where she was mixing the dry ingredients together in a bowl.

  “I like doing it this way, it reminds me of when I was little, when…” Hermione trailed off, and Draco sadly kissed the side of her head. Hermione’s parents were in a car accident in Australia, not even three days after they arrived. Her Father survived, but was declared brain dead, and when she went to look for them, she found him comatose.

  “It’s Christmas time, Mione,” Draco stated the obvious, and Hermione quirked an eyebrow.

  “Your point?” Hermione giggled lightly, grabbing a pinch of flour and throwing it at him.

  “Miss Granger!” Draco gasped in mock anger, his hand diving into the flour and coming back with a fistful; Hermione was pinned between him and the counter, so she had nowhere to go. Momentarily forgetting that she could apparate somewhere else in their house.

  “Draco!” Hermione exclaimed when he dumped the flour on top of her head, covering her head, face and shoulders with the white powder. “Oh, it is so on.”

  The kitchen was a state, Hermione had grabbed the remainder of that bag and swung in towards him so the flour flew out and covered him from head to toe. Laughter filled the house as they moved onto other ingredients; the eggs, the brown sugar was spilled at some point, the powdered sugar.

  Twenty minutes later Draco was sitting upright on the floor backing the counter, and Hermione was in between his legs, resting against him; both grinning like idiots.

  “Do we have to go to the Burrow for dinner tomorrow?” Draco asked after a few comfortable minutes of silence.

  “They’re family,” Hermione smiled gently, leaning back and pressing a kiss to Draco’s jaw. “Plus I didn’t complain when we had to go to lunch at Malfoy Manor yesterday.”

  “Mother and Father love you, that’s different.” Draco rolled his eyes.

  “It did take about a year and a half before they got over their prejudice you know,” Hermione pointed out, hand on his thigh.

  “I think they were more upset that I wasn’t going to marry Astoria like they wanted more so than them being as blood supremacist as they used to be,” Draco pursed his lips.

  “The Weasley’s don’t hate you as much as you’d like to think,” Hermione squeezed his thigh lightly reassuringly.

  “They just wished Ronniekins ended up with you instead of Pansy, or that you ended up with me.”

  “Pansy and Ronald have a daughter,” Hermione laughed in disbelief.

  “Doesn’t mean they didn’t wish you hadn’t been popping out Weasley’s babies.”

 "You’re such an idiot,“ Hermione shook her head affectionately.

 "One you love, admit it, Granger.”

 "Do I?“ Hermione asked, feigning innocence.

 "Yes,” Draco sulked.

 "Maybe,“ Hermione grinned broadly, twisting so she could kiss him gently on lips. "Either way you’re my idiot.”

@freya-ishtar @ash-castle @moonnott @faerieflightz @m1sc1efmanaged (I think you’ve read this already? I may be wrong, Anna Bear). 

The German translation of ‘impulses’

Oh, the German production did a really curious thing.

As you might have heard, TAB will be shown on German TV in a few days (they are selling it as an easter special, although they clearly fucked up letting the German fans wait for months) but I got my hands on the Blu-Ray already and watched it yesterday with my brother. The German dub team did an awesome job (and I never watch German dub TV shows because more than half of it is just bullshit), I loved it!

Okay, so here’s the thing: the ominous greenhouse scene. The German production team does an awesome job of translating imo, so they usually don’t change words or change phrases. At all. So I was expecting the scene to just go like in the original, you know, with John saying: “You must have impulses” - The German equivalent is something like “Du musst Impulse haben” (due to the scene the actual sentence would have been “Du musst sie haben… Impulse.”) It doesn’t matter if you don’t get this phrase, the only important thing to know is: there is a one to one translation for ‘impulses’, there’s a German word for it - so no need to swap impulses out for another word.

But! The German production team swapped it out for ‘Triebe’ - So GermanJohn says something like “Du musst sie auch haben … Triebe.” And this decision is just very, very interesting: while impulses can merely mean “A sudden strong and unreflective urge or desire to act” (Oxford Dictionary and you get around the same result if you check on the German equivalent of the Oxford dictionary), Triebe is much more connotated with lust and sexual desire. 

Trieb, der - noun, masculine
a. (often controlled by instinct) inner impulse, satisfaction of strong, often essential needs 
b. (obsolescent) lust, desire to do something

synonyms: desire, lust, urge, addictiveness, hunger, inner stir, instinct, passion, (…) 
(rough translation of duden.de)

Literally. I think I stopped breathing when GermanJohn said that. I’m not even kidding - this word is much more connotated with the imagery of animalistic instincts, linked to lust and sexual desire, in other words: just sex. Really, just sex. The TJLC reading already analysed ‘impulses’ with sexual desire but the German translation really leaves no room for other interpretations.