open spine

after years of waiting, it finally happens- maggie stiefvater releases the first book of the ronan lynch trilogy. you’re at the bookstore at the release, practically shaking with excitement, passing the hours by swapping theories and headcanons with friends.

at midnight, you dash to the cash register, slamming your money on the counter and taking the novel, thanking the cashier as you squeeze your way through the crowd.

sitting in the passenger seat of your friend’s car, you open the book, barely suppressing tears of joy. taking a deep breath, you crack open the spine.

you read the first words- “Squash one, squash two,” and on and on and on. horrified, you turn the page. this can’t be right, this can’t be all! but the book is empty. the ronan lynch trilogy is the murder squash song, and that is all.

Spy au! Part 3

Shout out to @merchant-of-aegis for being a big helping me! Ok so here’s part three:

•Shiro and Allura wants to make sure that the bond hasn’t been too affected from Lance’s undercover mission. (And if Shiro is low key planning on trying to find out what happened happened between Lance and Keith, he doesn’t say anything)

•But Lance won’t do it. Refuses to. Says that he isn’t ready to try and patch things up with Keith. Let alone let the others see what he went through.

•And of course Shiro lectures Lance that he shouldn’t hide from whatever happened between him and keith, that as long as there is a rift between them, it’s going to be way harder to form voltron. He goes in to saying that everyone is worried about him and that need to know what happened.

•Lance’s response is “why don’t you ask Keith? He knows what he did.” And leaves the training deck. *Dramatically exits stage left*

•The others look at Keith and he tells them that he’ll show them what happened. And this now everyone knows why Lance is pissed off at Keith, and don’t exactly blame him.(Hunk definitely gave him some killer stares for a few days afterwards)

•But they only know what Keith saw, not afterwards. And Shiro does intend to find out.

•Of course it’s hard to catch him off guard after that. He usually only comes out of wherever he’s been hiding to eat, shower and train. And even then he does this in the middle of the night, when everyone is asleep. The only other times they see him is if he’s with Pidge and Hunk, and even then he won’t answer any questions.

•It’s a few days after this that the others find out about his spine being replaced. Poor Hunk walked in while Lance was drying off from a shower

•He still avoids questions about it and about the mission. He’ll only ever talk about it if he has information that will help them in missions

•But Shiro is finally able to get him alone. He does ask any questions, he doesn’t press for information. He just hugs him and tells him that he’s glad that he made it out alive

•Lance breaks down. It’s been a long time coming, and Shiro holds him though it. Lance babbles about how much it hurt to be the enemy, to have his friend hate him, how much The Fall crushed him( figuratively? Physically? Both? Who knows)

•After that, lance will go to Shiro, or Hunk, whenever he feels ready to talk about what he had to do and went through with the Galra. But it’s always hard to get him to start, and they can never tell what happened when.

•It’s always little information that they have to piece together to get a real timeline of events. But it’s worth it, to be able to know what Lance’s time with the Galra is really like.

Here is some smaller details and other things that I wanted to slip in that I didn’t get to in my other posts:

•Lance and Allura definitely have a close relationship with each other after the mission. Not romantic, all platonic. Think brother/sister kind of relationship

•Allura is definitely overprotective of Lance once he gets back, especially after she sees his arm. While he may give information on Lotor, it takes awhile before he can persuade her to let him fight with the others again.

•While Lance was with the Galra, he did his best to try and help the prisoners. While he couldn’t help them escape, he did however slip extra food and water into cells, even some medicine if he knows that a prisoner comes back from the arena. His kindness is never forgotten. And when they rescue prisoners that Lance has helped out, they always thanked him for his kindness.

•Lance definitely gets a wardrobe upgrade while with lotor, still trying to commit to a certain look. (If any of you guys want to give it a shot, or send me some ideas, be my guest.)

After Lance’s spine is open information to the Paladins, Pidge and Hunk begged Lance to let them take a look. He shot the idea down so fast, they couldn’t even plead. Pidge’s still asks sometimes, but its always when looks like he might be having some trouble with it.

•Lance does get phantom pains. they don’t happen often, but they can get pretty bad,
•the worst ones are when he gets phantom pains in his spine, that is the only time he will ask Shiro or Hunk for help

•Lance is hella bendy now. Yea, he was really flexible before, but now? He is scary flexible.
• he almost made Hunk faint when he saw lance bending half backwards, both hands and feet planted on the floor.

That’s all I really got for now. But if any of you guys have any questions or want to talk about this au, my messages and asks are wide open.

And if any of you guys want to make art or write for this au, I’m fully supportive of you . I ask that you guys do tag me so I can see/read it and reblog it!

Chamber of Secrets - Part 20

(gif is mine)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: After the Avenger’s falling out, you were put in charge of putting Bucky together. Under King T’Challa’s orders, you were given a month’s time to create a new arm while simultaneously figure out how to get the triggering memories of his past out of his mind. As the time goes by, you found yourself confiding in him, despite his frozen state.

A/N: OooOOOooOOOOOhhhhh~  

Series Masterlist

Keep reading

One movement, one breath. Slow down. Be aware of your body in this moment. Inhale. Exhale.

Roll through modified adho mukha svanasana to urdva mukha svanasana with divebomber pushups. Warm up the spine, open up the shoulders and strengthen the upper body. Adding strength to my practice.

(Request: could you write an imagine where the reader is quiet and doesn’t talk too much to everyone (she’s part of the family tho) but then someone’s bothering daryl so she stands up for him and they end together because they understand each other?)

Note: sorry this took me a little long to write, i hope you enjoy!

Originally posted by onlydarylnormanfic

“Hey (Y/n), we’re having a get together tonight, you wanna join?” Sasha walked up to you as you were sharpening your knife on your porch, she was accompanied by the rest of the girls.

“I think I might just keep watch or something, I’m not really in the mood for that” you replied, offering them an apologetic smile and going back to your knife.

The girls looked at each other before sighing and walking away. You looked up and watched them get further away from you. As much as you tried to isolate yourself from the group, they always tried to bring you back in, and most of the time they succeeded, until someone died and you would push them away again. It was like an ongoing circle. Your mind wandered to Daryl, and how you isolated yourself from the group when he was taken by Negan. You had experienced the worst pain imaginable that night in the line-up, it got even worse when they took Daryl away. He was the only person in the group who properly understood you, and you understood him, that’s why you got along so well.  You were brought back to reality when you heard whistling in the distance. You quickly raised your head and felt your heart pound, it was Negan. You saw his silhouette through the gate and you stood up and ran over to it, followed by Rick.

“Let me in!” Negan tapped on the gate with Lucille and a shiver ran own your spine. You opened the creaky gate and you saw Negan, three big trucks filled with his men behind him.

“Well aren’t you a pretty thing” he smiled at you. You crossed your arms over your chest, not amused at his flirtatious comment.

“(Y/n), I got this” Rick said, pushing you behind him. You watched Negan’s men while Rick and him were conversing, your eyes skimmed over their faces until they landed on a familiar one. Your eyes nearly popped out of your head when you saw him, Daryl. You went to move forward but you stopped himself when you saw his beaten and bruised condition. Dwight was standing next to him, holding Daryl in place. The sight of him like that made your blood boil as you thought of all the terrible things they had done to him. You looked back to Daryl and noticed he was staring at you with sad eyes and your heart broke for him. You were so angry with the saviors that you hadn’t even realised they were walking into Alexandria.

“Search all the houses and take what you want!” Negan shouted to his men. “But only half” he reminded them.

You stepped back and watched as his men ran to the houses, they were in and out in a second and you looked at Rick for him to do something but he only shook his head you, reminding you that he wasn’t in charge anymore.


You looked to your left and saw Dwight pushing Daryl towards one of the trucks.

“Hey!” you shouted, finally having enough of staying quiet.

“He’s not a fucking animal” you said, walking over to both of them. Daryl looked at you shocked and Dwight looked confused.

“(Y/n)!” You heard Rick shouting behind you but you ignored his calls.

“That’s far enough” Dwight said, stepping in front of Daryl.

You both stood inches away from each other, and you could cut the tension with a knife. You felt the groups eyes on you now and you wondered if you should have stayed quiet, what if you got Daryl in more trouble?

“What’s going on out here?” Negan asked, walking over to you and Dwight with Rick next to him. Rick was holding Lucille and he looked traumatised, maybe you should calm down a bit, you didn’t want to be responsible for getting anyone else killed.

“I just think your man should stop playing God in other people’s lives” You said with less confidence than before.

Negan licked his lips and smirked at you. “You got yourself a protective girl here huh Daryl?” Negan wrapped an arm around him and he flinched at the connection. “I’ll make you guys a deal” Negan turned to Rick. “How about I take all your weapons and whatever else we want, and you get your boy back” Negan looked at you when he said that.

You looked at Rick and you knew he was considering it. There was no way he would say no but it would mean working extra hard to get supplies, and to find more guns. “Done” Rick said.

“Brilliant, you know what to do guys!” Negan shouted to his men and they moved to the armoury and the supply room. “A deal’s a deal Dwight” Negan raised his eyebrows at him.

Dwight grunted before pushing Daryl in your direction and as soon as he got close to you he pulled you into a hug, hiding his face in your neck and hair. You placed one hand on the back of his head and the other around his shoulders. It felt so good to have him back, knowing that he wouldn’t be hurting anymore. But you were sad about not having anything to protect yourself with. As the men were packing up the trucks with the rest of your supplies, Negan said his goodbyes and left Alexandria. Daryl then turned to Rick and hugged him too, after all it was him that made the deal.

“We’re glad to have you back” Sasha and the rest of the group ran up to hug Daryl, and when they were all done he turned to you again.

“You need to get cleaned up” you laughed but he only smiled in response, he looked exhausted. You took his hand and led him back to his house that lay vacant from when he was last there. You spent the next hour waiting for Daryl to have shower and clean himself off. You were sitting on the bed, reading the blurb of a book when he came out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist.

“Oh, my god” You covered your mouth and stood up, slowly taking a step towards him. His body was covered in black bruises and red marks. “What did they do to you in there?” you asked, part of you not wanting to know the answer.

Your hands gently touched his bruises over his shoulders and back, his previous scars sticking out from the irritated skin.

“Don’t worry about it, I’m home now” He said, his voice low and gravelly.

“Sorry” you shied away from him, realising what you were doing. You looked down to the floor and told him that you had to go but he held your arms and kept you in place.

“You’re the only person who stood up for me today, I saw everyone watching but no one said anything” He said. You looked up at his eyes and saw that they beamed down at you.

“It was nothing-” you started but you were stopped as he placed his lips on yours, the feel of them rough as they had cuts on them from his time with the saviors. You wrapped your arms around his neck, making him flinch. You quickly took your arms away and broke away from the kiss.

“Sorry” You said again, genuinely feeling bad for hurting him.

“It’s alright. You stayin’ the night?” He asked, moving to put on fresh clothes. You turned your back to him as he changed.

“I don’t know, maybe it would be good for you to have the bed to yourself” you said.

“I’ve had a whole cell to myself for ages now. I don’t wanna be alone” He said, making you turn and look at him.

He was fully clothed now and he had a pleading look in his eye, but you knew Daryl, he would never beg. “Okay” you nodded your head and walked over to him. “I’ll stay the night”

You lifted up on your tiptoes and planted a kiss on his lips before moving to the bed and giggling when he jumped in with you. You rested your arm on his chest as you both lay in the bed, talking about everything and anything. You were glad he was back, finally you could relax and maybe even socialise with the group more. You both fell silent and you closed your eyes and fell asleep to the sound of his heart beating next to you.


“Mare,” he whispers. “Choose me.”

Choose a crown. Choose another king’s cage. Choose a betrayal to everything you’ve bled for.

I find my thread of steel too. Thin but unbreakable.

“I am in love with you, and I want you more than anything else in the world.” His words sound hollow coming from me. “Anything else in this world.”

Slowly, my eyelids flutter open. He finds the spine to match my gaze.

“Think what we could do together,” he murmurs, trying to pull me closer. My feet hold firm. “You know what you are to me. Without you, I have no one. I am alone. I have nothing left. Don’t leave me alone.”

My breathing turns ragged.

I kiss him for what could be, what might be, what will be—the last time. His lips feel strangely cold as we both turn to ice.

“You aren’t alone.” The hope in his eyes cuts deeply. “You have your crown.”
― Victoria Aveyard, King’s Cage

title: wanted
rating: K+
characters/pairings: sakura, sasuke, naruto / mentions of sarada / implied sasusaku and naruhina
summary: in which sarada takes after her father and makes both of her parents very proud.
author’s note: this just a fun short little piece inspired by a headcanon i came up with a few days ago
disclaimer: naruto and its characters do not belong to me. all copy rights reserved to shonen jump, tv tokyo and kishimoto.

“Naruto, there’d be a good reason for me to be here, or Kami so help me, I’ll dismember you and feed your dick to Kurama.” Needless to say, Uchiha Sakura did not like to be disturbed on her way home from eight hours of stitching together recklessly injured shinobi. Especially not via a slimy toad blocking the door to her office, croaking miserably as she packed up her belongings for the day when she had planned on heading some to her husband and relaxing.

“What she said.” Sasuke wasn’t any more impressed with the blonde idiot. A rather large, mucus colored toad stuck to his left leg and croaked incessantly whenever he took a step in the wrong direction from the Hokage’s tower. He was tempted to just kill the little thing, but reasoned that he’d rather not have the Ero-Sennin haunt him from his grave, nor be sent to Mount Myoboku for a thousand years of toad-centered torture.

It was nearing 5PM and Naruto had called his beloved friends and former teammates into the Hokage’s office for what he designated to be an urgent meeting. Sasuke was convinced otherwise, seeing as they’d been here for ten minutes and Naruto had done nothing but make instant ramen and ask Shikamaru to remind him to pick up his dry-cleaning.

“Relax, Sakura-chan,” the blonde coaxed, stirring the cup ramen, “It is important, that’s why I called you.”

He glares at Sasuke as he catches a kunai between his fingers, twirls it and sends it flying towards the wall behind him, before giving Sasuke the middle finger. Impatient bastard.

He shifts a hefty stack of papers—what Sasuke presumes to be housing permits and budget plans, judging by the stamps—and reveals a large book in brown leather casing.

“Due to the growing trust and allegiance with the Five Kage, we’ve been able to create a bingo book the covers the span of all five nations,” he starts, “This is the newest edition and it doesn’t just list criminals; it prints commonly found flee-on-sight orders and bounty hunter posters.”

“So? You called us here for a bingo book, Naruto?” Sakura chides. The rosette was far from impressed; the hospital would surely receive the newest edition in a week’s time—why had Naruto interrupted her night of wine and bubble baths with her husband for the sake of a bingo book?

“Yes, actually,” he slurps his noodles in between speaking. “For one, both you and Teme are in it.”

The two Uchiha share a look, and stare back at their friend, unfazed by his news. Sakura’s been aware of the bounty on her head since the day she became Tsunade’s student—gang leaders, drug lords and rogue ninja would give just about anything to have her dead, given her impeccable medical mastery and ability to reduce any poison to water. Sasuke’s been wanted—criminal or not—since he was eleven years old.

“Not as criminals, of course,” he spoke to Sasuke. Naruto had worked long and hard to get him unlisted as a criminal in the bingo book, but like Sakura, he couldn’t help the hefty bounty on his head in exchange for his sharingan.

“Tch, get on with it, Naruto,” Sasuke growled, looking away from him and growing impatient.

“How about you wait three seconds and let me,” he snarled back. “You’d think you’d be a little more patient and willing to hear about matters concerning your own daughter.”

“What about Sarada?” Both asked in unison. Sasuke’s focus was sharp and deadly, Sakura’s head snapped up dangerously quickly; the Uchiha didn’t fuck around when it came to their only child.

Worst case scenarios flooded Sasuke’s mind. He knew he’d missed a large portion of Sarada’s childhood and prayed to Kami that his absence didn’t lead her to take the same blind and vengeful path he had—he figured it’d be nearly impossible; Sarada didn’t have the same dark ambitions he had as a teenager, even if he wasn’t around to fully raise her, Sakura was, and under no circumstances would she have lead their daughter down that dark road. It had to be impossible. Sarada was a well-ranked kunoichi by Konoha standards, Naruto even went so far as to call her the best in the village and name her Police Captain.

Come to think of it, Sarada had been out of the village for some time now. His seventeen-year-old daughter had embarked on a six-week long mission in Cloud. She’s leading a squad of ANBU and shinobi from the A-class Military Police Force to infiltrate the headquarters of mad scientist who’d been taking civilians and shinobi hostage from a nearby village, and performing experiments on them.

What if she’d been caught up with the scientist? Rumor had it that his man had some distant connection to Oorchimaru—had the old snake bastard planned on involving his daughter in the same disgusting mess of revenge and power that he’d done to Sasuke? Had the bingo book been updated and reprinted that recently?

“It seems like your daughter is quite feared by some,” Naruto flipped open the book, going to the “U” column, “Interestingly enough, she’s listed under all three categories: criminal, flee, and bounty.”

Sakura was deadly quiet, fists clenched and ears open. Her little Sarada was not a criminal. Whatever was printed in that bingo book must be a mistake—a ploy from a rival village to get back at her and Sasuke by framing their daughter.

Naruto flipped the book around, letting Sakura and Sasuke take a look at Sarada’s profile. Her name had been listed on over twenty-two flee-on-sight orders from various villages and gangs, as well as several hefty bounties on her head. And sure enough, the Village Hidden in the Shadows had listed her as a criminal, charged with killing their ruler.

“I wouldn’t worry too much about the criminal warning, Sakura-chan—the Village Hidden in the Shadows has no real connection or allegiance with any of the five major countries, and person Sarada killed that they claim as their ruler was a criminal himself, some sick child molester,” Naruto explained, “This is just a rough draft, I’ll have it cleared up with Gaara and the others.”

The coupled nodded and continued to flip through Sarada’s section of the book. Twenty-seven. Uchiha Sarada was seventeen-years-old and had twenty-two flee-on-sight orders in thirteen villages and five bounties on her head.

Sakura opened the binder spine, and carefully picked up a slightly yellow sheet of paper, and held it closely.


Hidden Leaf Village Ninja • Rank: Jounin
17 years old. 5 foot, 3 inches • Black hair, black eyes


Captain of the Konoha Military Police Force. Heir of Dr. Haurno Sakura and Uchiha Sasuke. Wields the sharingan of the Uchiha clan. If forced to engage in combat, do not make direct eye contact.

Commonly found with the following ninja; do not engage in combat or threaten:

Uzumaki Boruto
18, blonde hair, blue eyes, two whisker marks on either cheek; son of Uzumaki Naruto, Hokage of the Hidden Leaf Village.

18, blue hair, gold eyes; son of Sannin-nin Oorchimaru.

Sarutobi Konohamaru
26, brown hair, blue eyes; grandson of the Third Hokage of the Hidden Leaf Village.


The other twenty-one flyers read similar messages, some labelling Sarada as a ss-rank ninja, warning not to be within so much as 400 feet of her at any given time. The bounty flyers listed her name, age, weight, parents and sum for the head, dead or alive, set at 3.4 million ryo or more.

Sasuke blinked carefully, scanning the paper in his hand and those in the binder. He knew Sarada would eventually collect a bounty on her head—it was a conversation he and Sakura had had too many times before. They were both well aware of the status and power they possessed, and that which Sarada held as well; they knew that others would seek out their daughter and her kekkei genkai for a reward. They never expected, however, for that price to be well over a million ryo.

“You two did well,” Naruto grins, “Sarada’s pretty badass. Of course, the bounty on Boruto tops 4 million, but he is the son of the greatest Hokage ever.”

“Cha! That’s my baby! Make those little boys cry, Sarada!” Sakura cheered. She couldn’t wait to tell little Ino-pig; she bets her wimp ass son didn’t have a single flee-on-sight order.

Sasuke kept quiet, but the grin on his face spoke a thousand words. That’s my little girl.

Hotel Sex with Park Jimin

It’s finally happening. You finally get to go to KCON for the first time. Your heart starts racing as you think about seeing your bias, Jimin, up there on stage tomorrow, but soon your concentration is broken by the sound of some rowdy KPOP fans down the hall from you. You arrive at your room and unlock your door.
A couple of hours go by and the obnoxious sounds you heard earlier are gone. But while you’re getting undressed you notice another sound. Something as beautiful as it is familiar. You put your ear up to the wall in an attempt to hear it better. Is this a recording? It wasn’t a song you’d heard this voice sing before…
“Oh, God, could it be?” you wonder aloud. It couldn’t be him. Wouldn’t he be in a suite in some lavish hotel or something? The voice you knew to belong to Jimin continued. Pure honey. But of course, you’re too scared to see if you’re right so you just lay there and listen to him sing.
You wake to hear knocking at your door. “Who the heck could that be,” you mutter to yourself. You finally decide to roll out of bed and put your robe. You walk over to answer the door and freeze when you see who’s on the other side. It was Jimin. Practically naked, to be more specific. Disbelief begins to scramble your brain from seeing him in just a robe. ‘Don’t bite your lip…’
“Annyeonghaseyo!” He says with a smile. His lips look so much more soft and bitable in person and stars seem to have taken up permanent residency in his eyes. “Sorry to disturb you, but I don’t seem to have any towels and I was wondering if you had any I could borrow. I’d ask the front desk for some, but I didn’t want to bother them over something so small.” While waiting for your response, he looks you over and finally seems to notice you’re in just a robe. A blush quickly washes over his face. ‘How cute, he’s bashful,’ you think to yourself with a smile.
“It’s no problem. Come in.” You and your dirty mind have been racing since you first saw him and now he’s half naked in your hotel room! You search for towels facing away from him as to try and desperately hide your bright red face. You could swear you heard him giggle at you.
“I know I have some left. How about you just shower here and I’ll go ahead and find a towel for you?” Your attempts to come across as cool and genuinely helpful are failing miserably and he’s caught on. Your voice only betrays you in your embarrassment. “O-or, you know, I could just drop some off at your room…”
Never, in a million years, could you have been prepared for this.
“I’m sorry, I don’t think got your name. I’m Jimin,” he says as a coy smile spreads across his face.
“I’m (Your name),”
“Beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” So smooth. “It’s nice to meet you,” he walks closer to you, so close that if you reach out you’d be able to touch him. “I’ll just shower here then.” Some part you just died, you are certain of that much.
“O-okay,” you stammer. Boy, if he couldn’t see your beet-red face before there was definitely no hiding it now. In your mind, the joke is on him though, because you have no intention of finding him a towel. ‘I wanna see the water drip from his hair n trickle down his skin…’ More dirty thoughts, more blushing.
Jimin disrobes in the doorway of the bathroom. 'Holy shnikies! Don’t look, don’t look!’ But let’s face it you can’t not look. “Perfect ass, too?” Of course. Because the situation isn’t painful enough already. You let out a small whimper. While he’s showering you call in to him, “Sorry, but the bathroom door doesn’t latch, I hope that doesn’t bother you.” Reality is, it works just fine, but before he went in you managed to slip an old folded up receipt in the latch so the door wouldn’t be able to close. Setting this up this far, you start feeling pretty confident about the situation and creep up to the bathroom to steal his robe.
After a while the shower turns off and you hear the shower rings scrape against the rod. You start getting nervous and your heart is about to leap out of your chest.
He doesn’t even bother looking for his robe or the towel you said you’d find.
'Oh, God. That body…,’ you find yourself thinking. Completely naked and drenched he makes his way over to you as steam rolls off his perfect skin. Broad shoulders, fit chest, strong arms, honey thighs and chocolate abs. Nothing escapes your notice. You find it impossible to contain yourself and end up biting your lip and throbbing from being so uncontrollably turned on…
Surely you’ve died and gone to heaven. Yeah, that must be it. Or, at least, you’re lost in an extremely vivid dream. His body is glistening in the dim light cast from your lamp. Embarrassed at yourself for staring this long you look up and, to your extreme mortification, find him staring back at you, grinning smugly. Jimin stops in front of you.
“'Perfect ass’, huh?”
'Oh shit! I said that out loud?!’
He just laughs and says, “You know, you make it very hard to be good.”
You can’t. You just can’t. Heck, you can’t even say anything. All you can do is look up at him, flustered and confused.
Taking advantage of your flustered state he grabs your hand and slides it up his thigh, around his hip and holds it on his ass. His skin is so soft over his hard muscles. The feeling of your hand trailing over his skin causes him to lick his lip and bite it.
“How can I be good when you keep misbehaving?”
“Wh-what do you mean,” you stammer. The fact you got that much out was nothing short of a miracle.
His grin widens. “Where’s my robe, or towel, (y/n)-ah? By the way, you left this in the door.”
'Ah, fuck it. That smug.., gorgeous.., naked..,’ your thoughts trail off. 'Just own it, (y/n). That’s all I can do now.’
Despite your sort of self-“pep talk”, the reality of the situation overwhelms you, making you dizzy. He helps you over to the bed and lays you down.
“Careful now. We can’t have you–”
The only things that had been keeping your robe closed were your hands. In the midst of bracing yourself against him and laying down on the bed, you had let go and your robe no longer covered your body.
He sits next to you slowly, staring the whole time. His eyes, hungry, take in every inch of your exposed skin. Your body betrays you as you recover; your breathing quickens your heart pounds, and your blood begins to boil beneath your skin.
Jimin traces up your neck to your earlobe with his soft, warm lips and whispers, “Are you feeling better?” His hot breath dances across your skin, sending shivers down your spine.
You open your mouth to answer, but no words would come out. “Yes,” is all you can mouth in response. He’s clearly got you where he wants you, because he flashes you a devilish grin. His hand weightlessly glides across your stomach, feeling every tremble, and grips your waist before he bites up your neck.
“Good. Now I have to punish you for being bad and making me worry.”
'Oh God… What’s going on? Am I even awake right now?’ Your mind races again, but he’s got you so turned on you can barely think. His lips linger near yours. 'Come on…,’ your thoughts beg. As if reading your mind, he kisses you softly and bites your lip.
Jimin’s hair is still wet and cold water keeps dripping down onto your chest. This only adds to the pleasure and the agony. You run your hand up his back to his hair, and tug gently causing him to bite his lip and straddle you.
“There you go making it hard to behave myself again. Close your eyes.” You obediently do so only to feel him kiss and lick up your stomach, between your breasts and bite your neck. Sighs escape your lips. He kisses back down your chest slowly. Slipping his hand up to one breast, he runs his thumb over your nipple, and swirls his tongue around the other.
You bite your lip and let out a moan. Breath quickens. Eyes stay closed. Yet somehow with him teasing you and your mind being scrambled, you swear you can feel him staring at you, feeding off your pleasure. And then you feel him get off of you. You know Jimin told you to close your eyes… But you wanna look at him so badly. What to do?
Nothing. You decide to be good and lay there, vulnerable to his body and desires. It was then that you felt his hands, gentle at first, grip onto your knees and lips on your leg, kissing and biting hungrily up your thighs. You gasp and shiver each time as he gets closer… 'What’s he going to do when gets there? Can I handle it?’ But your mind is so destroyed from this agonizing euphoria that you can’t even begin to think about it.
You can’t take it anymore. His lips are so incredibly soft and gentle you just have to look, so you peek down at him leaving a hickey on your thigh. All of a sudden he catches you and runs his tongue over your clit and sucks on it. His tongue is so wet and warm you lose it, quivering each time he flicks you with it. Jimin climbs up between your legs, hikes them up around his waist, and starts grinding hard into you and saying you were “being a bad girl” again. You slide your hands up his back, lean up, and bite his neck making him moan in your ear.
There’s no mistaking it now. Jimin is hard. As his hips ground into yours, he’d been getting harder and harder and was now using his dick to rub against and further stimulate you.
'Enough of this teasing. I can’t take it anymore!’ you scream in your head. “Just fuck me already!”
“Aww is my (y/n) feeling impatient,” again flashing you that satisfied, devilish grin.
You find your hand sliding down his body slowly feeling each and every defined muscle, …oh the abs…, and eventually grabbing his dick.
“Mm it’s so big and hard…”
You can’t keep these thoughts to yourself anymore. With him in your hand you start teasing him by rubbing him against your soaked pussy, slipping in a little then pulling back out n rubbing him against yourself again. As you do this you kiss him intensely and bite his lip.
“Come on, (y/n), let me in… I’ve gotta have you. You’re so warm and wet…”
He’s so cute when he begs. You can’t help it. You know you want it, too. You slide him in and a pleased sigh escape your lips.
“Mm,” he moans, “you feel so good, Y/n.”
You begin to moan from the pleasure; from the way he fits perfectly, tightly, inside you. You’ve been craving this for what seemed like years now, but never imagined it would happen. Park Jimin. In your hotel room. On top of you. In you. Thrusting, over and over, slowly building in speed and roughness. Biting you, kissing you, and now pinning you down by your wrists. He tells you to open your eyes and look at him. Obviously, he didn’t have to tell you twice. If you’re going to die, you may as well die to the fullest extent, right? He seems to get off even more now knowing you’re watching him.
Jimin starts powerfully body rolling into his thrusts, making them even more powerful and enjoyable for you. You’re both moaning, but he decides he wants to make you louder and starts rubbing your clit with his fingers while thrusting faster. You get so loud you almost scream. He feels your legs and pussy tighten around him as you’re getting so close. He smiles and bites his lip.
He stops rubbing before you go over the edge. “Not yet, (y/n),” he smiles again, knowing he’s tormenting you. “Just relax.”
'Relax,’ he says. Yeah, okay. Not bloody likely. He starts moaning into your neck, exciting you even more. You take the fingers he used to rub you and start sucking on then.
'How much time has passed?’ you wonder. Both his moans and yours again have gotten louder and are now peppered with each other’s names and whispered curses. 'An hour? Two?’ You didn’t care. You never wanted this to end. He bites and sucks on your neck leaving hickey after hickey and soothing them with his tongue. You can feel his urgency and ever growing need. He kisses you then goes as fast and rough as he can, nearing his climax. He moans your name loudly and you resume rubbing your clit to intensify your orgasms, which, with loud moans, a scream of his name, and sighs of pure ecstasy, you manage to reach near the same time.
Jimin stays on top of you, in you. Riding out the orgasm with you. Nuzzling your breasts and nibbling on them. The sweat glistens on his body. You catch him staring at you, smiling.
“Nothing… I just love how good you look when I’m pleasuring you.” He bites your lip n kisses you. Too exhausted to go back to his room he curls up the sheets with you and holds your head to his chest.
“Hear that?” His heart still pounding. “This is what you’ve done to me.”

Because of your love


In a world, six thousand years ago, the time after the Ice Age and before the cultivation of the earth, when Fiore was covered in magnificent trees, a young man and a young woman are running for their lives. Will they find love along the way? / NaLu au, WARNING: smut scene

There was a chasm
There was a mountain
Even when my lost heart
Was unlovable
You spread Your arms out
You laid Your life down for me
Now I’m set free
Now my heart sings

A lightning sliced the gray sky. A terrible thunder followed right after so suddenly that all the animals on the trees and on the earth trembled terrified and hurried to hide themselves in their hollows. The branches of the magnificent pines were now drooping heavily to the ground, as if even they were worried about the upcoming storm. Above the forest a second lightning flashed between the dark, threatening clouds, creating the illusion of a furious, snake-like creature, which was spewing thunders and fire.

Two human figures were racing through the forest as fast as the tall bushes and grasses were letting them. The figures wore mantled with housings and wide hoods protected their faces from the raindrops. If someone could look at them right now he would have thought that they were running from something. And he would have been right because the two figures were desperately trying to reach one of their hideouts, which was going to keep them safe from the storm… and from other terrifying creatures.

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Amour Étrange Part 3

Pairing: Draco x Reader
Word Count: 2,550
Warnings: Professor Umbridge, teacher-student bullying, angst, fluff, canon divergence, happy ending
Author / Editor: @magicology101 / @saxxxology

Part 1 / Part 2

“Miss is doing what?” Poppy squeaks. Her eyes are bulging out of her sockets, and her voice is an octave higher than usual. You’ve just told Poppy about the entire situation between you and Draco that had occurred several days before, and Poppy can’t seem to understand what made you agree to Draco’s proposal of accompanying him to Hogsmeade.

“It’s not that big of a deal,” you attempt to defend yourself. “I mean, it’s just a date isn’t it?”

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*casually flipping the pages of Ashlesha during lunch because good books deserve to have their spines cracked open again and again*

*focuses on the Names page*

Django = “Romani Sinti name that most likely means ‘to awaken’”

Whetū = “ Māori, 'star’, used as singular or plural form.”

*thinks about the fact that the trilogy is called 'Awaken the Stars’*


I didn’t think my excitement for Vishakha could get any bigger, yet here I am screaming in a public place. *pumps fists* DJANGO BACKSTORY DJANGO BACKSTORY DJANGO WHETŪ AWAKEN THE STAAAAARS.


Originally posted by littlemisssyreid

Gif not mine

“Do you remember me?” the voice makes Y/N’s mind spin. A shiver runs down her spine. She opens her mouth to talk, but closes it again, unable to form words. The man’s blue eyes seem to pierce through her mind. She seems to run through every memory she has, because deep down, something tugs at her heartstrings, telling her to remember. She didn’t know anything about her past anymore, one of the unpleasant extras to brainwashing. She hated basically anything to do with emotions so she didn’t tell anyone, no one being able to help her. Her foot shifts on the sandy street tiles on the Bucharest market. A gun in her elegant hand, is pointed at the man, loaded. Her finger, on the trigger, trembles slightly. The voice in her head, telling her to remember, drowns out voices, yells of horror and nearby gunshots. In her earpiece some teammates are trying to make sure she’s okay. Though the man’s eyes seem so familiar, his voice so comfortable and his body just right in her mind, nothing seems to click. “No” she says finally. Her voice is filled with hurt. Laced with sadness and topped off with an off feeling of regret. Her expression matches her tone just as uneasy. She sees the man but in her mind a smoke curtain drags over the actual person’s identity. Y/N gets distracted with a hand on her shoulder, making her head whip over to look Bucky right in the eyes. The assassin is confused, Y/N was extremely professional and never got even slightly distracted on a mission. Y/N’s gaze leaves Bucky’s and looks back at the place where the man stood, now a simple empty spot on the square.  “Are you okay, Y/N? Christ-” Bucky says, looking around carefully. His hand is still on her shoulder, thinking it’ll calm her down a bit. “Are you okay?” Bucky asks again, turning her to look him in the eyes. Y/N blinks a couple of times, disoriented, but nods. “Yeah, s-.. sorry” she shakes it off. She reloads her gun and gives Bucky another small reassuring nod before running off.

Part two? Idk if this is good (it’s not, I know)

Requests are open, loves! 

Blade’s Edge

Sooo, I wrote some original fiction stuff. It’s an idea that’s been bouncing around in my mind for a while: a Norse Mythology / Fantasy Rivalmance, type deal. The characters aren’t human, but I have’t precisely settled on what they are yet. This is the first draft of the first chapter (maybe?) so it’s pretty rough, but I’d appreciate feedback. 


The sounds of battle had long ago died on the wind, yet the morning sky was drenched with the blood. The great chamber of the palace, which once was a warm, bustling place, seemed empty now. Only a few servants remained—the old, the sick, the women. Most of the men had marched with what was left of the army.

Though the braziers were lit, Astrid, Lady of the Golden Hall, was freezing. The chill in her bones was not due to the heavy fog that hung around the palace, but the defeat carried on the air.

She could hear the drums of the Gotalanders as they marched on the palace. It would only be a matter of moments before they burst through the silver gate of the city and made their way to the Palace of the Kings. Astrid shifted in her seat, and looked down at the boy in her lap. Erik, her baby brother and recently crowned king of Trondhiem, fidgeted and glanced up at her.

“Asta, I’m tired.” His small voice saw swallowed up in the silence of the chamber. 

She gave him a small smile, and resisted the urge to brush a lock of unruly hair back from his forehead. He was king now, even if not for much longer. “I know, your majesty. But do you remember what I told you about being like Papa?”

When the little boy nodded, she continued. “Well, sometimes—”

Before she could finish, the great doors the hall groaned and swung open to the sound of marching boots and the clank of armor. Astrid straightened in her seat, her arms wrapping protectively around Erik. Row after row of soldiers in gleaming ring-mail marched into the hall in perfect sync. They lined the ebony inlaid walkway to the dais, the tips of their swords thumping against the wood in one, deep reverberating noise. A man appeared in the doorway, silhouetted against the bright light of the antechamber beyond. Astrid could only make out his form as he stalked towards them, a victor confident in his might.

He was tall, like all the men of his cursed kingdom. His broad shoulders were accentuated by the leather armor he wore over his ring-mail. Around his narrow waist hung his sword belt, on which rested a wicked looking blade with a hilt curve to look like a thorn.

Astrid felt the hairs at the back of her neck prickle. Though she could not yet see his face in the gloomy hall, she knew exactly who this man was: Einar Silver-Tongue, second son to King Ulf of Gotaland, the Terror of the Jutes.


Astrid paced the length of the king’s receiving chamber, her eyes unfocused as she tread back and for across the finely woven rug. She had just put her brother to bed with a promise that everything would be alright.

A lie.


She didn’t know. All she knew was that he would be coming soon. Einar Silver-fucking-Tongue. After marching his armies across her brother’s kingdom and into the Golden Hall, Astrid was sure he would strike her head from her neck and dash her brother against the unyielding walls. But instead, he’d let them live. Once the palace was secured, he’d disappeared back to the front lines of his army with nothing but a promise of return.

Asta shook her head. She hated feeling toyed with, hated this cat and mouse game Einar was playing with them. Rather swing the ax than have it hanging over her.

She turned towards the fireplace, holding out her hands for warmth that wouldn’t reach her bones. Behind her, the heavy oaken doors swung open. Her spine stiffened, though she refused to turn to him—refused to let him think she feared to have him at her back. She could hear Einar moving about, removing cloak and gloves perhaps, before the creak of leather encased adamantine signaled he’d taken a seat. Still she refused to face him.

“Come now, Princess. This is no time to act a girl. We have things of import to discuss.” His cool, silken voice sounded just behind her, the level tone belied by an undercurrent of steel.

After a moment, Astrid turned, finally meeting his gaze. He sat, indolent and at easy, legs spread wide and arms resting along the back of a plush backed-bench. His dark hair brushed his shoulders, framing his angular face in shadows. Startling amber eyes watched her from beneath heavy brows. Watched, and…appreciated? It was difficult to tell, but something masculine and possessive lurked in his glittering gaze. 

She felt her mouth pucker in distaste. He was handsome, and she hated him for it. A monster should show himself to be one, not masquerade as a god.

A flick of the wrist: a command to sit. She frowned but found herself gingerly sitting at the edge of the bench, as far from him as possible—though not far enough that she wasn’t within his reach. A shock of heat travelled down her arm where his fingertips brushed her shoulder.

“You have something to discuss with me?” She asked, lifting her chin.

A corner of his mouth quirked up at her imperious tone. “As a courtesy, I wish to inform you I will be assuming the regency of King Erik. He will be sent away to the north in order to safeguard his person during this unstable time. You will remain here.”

The causality with which he dictated her life was insufferable. Gnashing her teeth, Astrid shot up, hot fury roaring up her spine. “You will do no such thing! Erik stays with me.”

One moment he was seated, relaxed, the next, he stood before her, inches away, his big body towering over her to intimidate. “My armies occupy your kingdom;your father is dead and your king a mere child,” he hissed, amber eyes flashing green. “My boot is at your throat, princess—you have no right to issue orders to me,” 

She bared her teeth at him, fists balled at her side to stop herself from scratching his eyes out.

“I will not allow you to take him from me,” she seethed. “Secreted away until he conveniently dies of cold and neglect, or your assassin’s blade.”

Einar sneered at her accusation. “If I was going to kill him, I would have done it already.”

She glared up at him, hating him all the more for reminding her of her weakness, that she and Erik were in his clutches. “Yes, you should have. Because I vow to the Norns that I won’t stop until your throat is under my boot, Prince Einar.”

His hand shot out, tangling in her thick tresses and yanking her head back. The motion brought them closer, each of her hard, heavy breaths pressing her against the solid wall of muscle that was his chest. She gripped his shoulders, trying, but unable to push him away.

“Do not think to threaten me, Astrid.” He stared down his aquiline nose at her upturned face. “I hold your life in my hands.”

“Freeze in Hel,” she spat, squirming against his grip.

Einar banded his free arm around her, pinning her arms between them and hauling her against him. “Cease this petulant mewling, and make me an offer worthy of consideration.”

“Let go of me! You have no right!”

“It’s trite but true, Princess, might makes right.” He snapped, squeezing her closer.

They stared at each other a long moment eyes blazing. She was painfully aware of the closeness of their bodies, and the fact that no man had ever dared touch her like this before. 

Suddenly he released her. Only a quick step back stopped her from falling to the floor at the loss of the stabilizing strength of his arms. Stabbing fingers through his dark hair, Einar stalked to the other side of the room before pouring himself a drink.

Astrid sent him a baleful look. “You may be regent, oh conqueror, but I am Erik’s guardian. And he will stay with me.”

He watched her over the rim of his—her brother’s—goblet, amber eyes apprising. She shivered.

“It is my pleasure that you will stay here.” He took a deep draught, before slamming the metal cup on the table. “Very well. King Erik will stay here, with you as his guardian, while I see to the running of the realm as it is integrated into the Gotaland Empire.”

Again he moved rapidly to stand before her, and much to her chagrin she found herself taking a step back.

“But, I will need something in exchange for this leniency. Something to ensure you don’t turn back and bite me like a rabid dog.”

Astrid didn’t know whether the trembling she felt was fear at the sudden silken, dangerous tone of his voice or anger at being likened to a rabid bitch. Regardless, she raised her chin in defiance, her words mocking. 

“My kingdom is at your disposal, my prince, what on Midgard could I possible give you more?”

Astrid was dismayed to see that instead of snapping back at her a wicked grin slowly spread across his lips as his eyes flashed green. Her stomach dropped; she had played right into his hands. 

“You, my sweet, I will take to wife.”

Before she could object, before even, his words had truly registered. Einar’s mouth crashed against hers as he hauled her bodily against him. Astrid made a noise of protest, her fingers curled into claws against his shoulders. His lips were demanding, dominating, sending scorching heat down her throat and racing throughout her body which each pass of lip against lip. He pressed his thumb to the corner of her mouth, forcing it open to him, forcing her to submit to his tongue. Astrid gasped at his forwardness, her eyes fluttering closed.

She felt too hot, to confined in her own skin. She wiggled against him, maddened with the feeling of–of something. He groaned in response, deepening their already impossible deep embrace. 

“Asta?” Erik’s small voice behind her was a shock of cold water. “I heard shouting.”

 She wretched herself away from Einar and slapped him across the face so hard his head snapped to the side. Instead of looking cross at her assault, he gave her an indulgent, smug smile, before turning to Erik and giving a courtly bow.

“ King Eirk, good evening.” He turned to Astrid, eyeing her with a masculine satisfaction that made her want to slap him again. “I’ll leave you, my dear, to inform his majesty of our arrangement.”

King Pigeon is a very beautiful but intense pose. It opens the hips, both front and back, as well as the chest and shoulders, and last but certainly not least opens the spine with a lengthening backbend. Therefore, it can take a good deal of time of regular yoga practice before this pose is achievable because it requires so much flexibility. Join me Monday morning at 9:30am @lucentyoga where we will be moving and opening towards that gorgeous goal.

I fell in love with a fireman.
Broad shoulders
Straight spine
Open palms
His smile said
“Trust me”
My body
Spread out the welcome mat. Gave him every empty space in my heart; and every full one.
And instead of a thank you card;
He turned my body into a house fire.

It’s hard to tell the difference
Between a fireman
And a pyromaniac.

He used closed fists to hide the sulphur skin of his palms; his fingertips were matchsticks all along; he put a grenade in my mouth and pulled the pin with his teeth.
While his smile
“Trust me”
And my body,
Became melted bone; shrinking candle wax.
Skin became a collection of scars; short stories with no happy endings.
Between us there was no heat, no warmth,
Only burn.
Only ash.

And I learned the difference between fireman and pyromaniac.
I learned to carry the ocean between my cheeks; my fingers; my breasts; my thighs.

Now, I am a body of water. I am a house beneath the sea.
I tell him that my name is Atlantis.

He smiles,
But his lies are whispers beneath the tsunami I have become.

I say that I will no longer be his house fire. This time, I mean it.
Never let an arsonist make his bed in your body.

Pull the scent of him from your skin; wash the smoke from your hair; leave every trace of his touch at the end of the driveway;
change the locks.

Light candles to remind yourself that there are softer ways to be loved.

You will be loved.

—  Ceres @mentamorphisis
~Avengers Preference~

- What they’re like in bed ;) -

{This isn’t too smutty. I tried my best not to get too crazy with the Gifs. Lol. I’m not sure how smutty you all are ;)}

A/N: I’ve been on this Avengers kick. I don’t know what it is, but I’m so sorry.

Steve Rogers: Capiscle is the Lovemaker. Without a single doubt. His gentle hands would run across your body, sending painless chills down the base of your spine. Every open mouth kiss, a soft whimper would spill from your own lips. He likes to take his time with you, not noticing how badly he was teasing you. He’s a complete gentleman, but every gentleman has his kink. If the word ‘Captain’ slips from your lungs, he’ll release a shudder. If you tug lightly on his sandy blonde hair, he’ll release a lovely groan.

Tony Stark: Well, Mr. Stark is your local Horn-Dog. This, we all know. As much as I hate to admit it, He’d be amazing in bed. I mean, the man has experience… And the money… AnywAYS! He’d be a bit rougher than Steve but will leave you throbbing. The bites he leaves between the valley of your breasts are enough to make your stomach tighten and your core to heat up. Mr. Stark can tell by the sound of your moaning and Whimpering, that you enjoy every little thing he’s doing to you. Beard burn would definitely rest between your inner thighs. Run your nails down his back, Give him oral, pull on his jet-black hair. “Hope you’re enjoying your time, Princess.”

Bucky Barnes: This soldier is ready to comply. You’d have to be dominant for awhile, He hasn’t been the same since his fall. He’d treat you like an ancient relic, ready to crumble any moment. Of course, you wouldn’t mind this. You have all the time in the world with each other. His Metal arm would run along, ever so lightly, across your skin. Those feverish chills are sent down your arms and legs. His raw lips would ghost over yours, breath against breath. At a certain time, he’d lose it. He’d almost shut off and not trust himself. So, you’d come in and take lead. Crawling atop his toned body, kissing down his beautiful chest. Every kiss of appreciation, adds to his confidence. Don’t worry, not every night will be so gentle ;)

Thor: The mighty Thor isn’t just a god of thunder and all storms. He’s a sex god. The blonde knows what you want. He knows all your sweet spots. He knows what makes you moan, whimper, and cry. Just looking into his Asgard blue eyes, could make you melt. Thor would treat you like a queen. He’d prefer giving you oral, kissing atop your pubic mound. Your body twitches beneath his everytime. His large, calloused hands would caress every square inch of you. His large structure cages you, creating more sweat between the both you.

Clint Barton: This little feather is just as much as a Horn-Dog as Tony Stark, believe it or not. He loves to mutter dirty, harmless words into you hear. And to no surprise, a 360-degree heat will start around your body. When Clint comes back from a mission, He’ll be all over you. Dirt will still be smudged all over his face and biceps. Of course, this wouldn’t stop you. He’d be in such a rush to be inside of you. Barton’s kisses are rushed and sometimes chaste and rough. His tongue would outline every contour your body possesses. The both of you would be in such a rush, sending smiles across one another.

Sam Wilson: Your local Mecho-bird is quite the charmer. He’d be a smooth talker. Even the cheapest pick-up lines turn out to be the sexiest. He’d pour you a glass of your favorite wine and massage your shoulders. Sometimes you wonder why he’s so romantic and sweet. “That’s just the way I am, baby.” Open-mouthed kisses would be placed upon your neck, surely making your heart beat faster. Once that first hum vibrates from your lips, the game is on. He’d carry you to the bedroom and press you into the bed. He’d spend most of his time kissing your lips and thighs. Also if you happen to wear lingerie… Prepare to have a night. A nIGHT.


A/N: Rip me. I was going to Other peoples but, this drained me. Maybe I’ll do a Part 2? Anyways! I hope you enjoyed it. I do a Female version too if I get own to it. If you have a request for any fandom, send it in. I’ve just been in the Avengers’ ass.

Time Travel

Summary: Y/N somehow finds herself in Hamiltime and decides to break into the wrong house.

Pairing: eventual Philip x reader

Warnings: language, unedited

Word count: 1,733 words

A/N: I literally have been thinking about this for the past two weeks and have finally decided to write it. I wrote this in a little over two hours and it’s a little rough but at least it’s written. I will be doing more parts to this eventually. Also, I am actually doing research for this and the house I’m describing is the Hamilton’s actual house, called the Hamilton Grange.

“The worst part is that he apologized to his mother for forgetting what she taught him. She taught him how to count. He thought he miscounted his steps!”

“Mhmm,” your friend said, not looking away from her phone.

“Dude, I know you don’t like Hamilton, but can you at least pretend listen to me when I rant? I just have a lot of feelings and you’re my only friend.”

“Sorry,” [Y/F/N] muttered, putting her phone in her back pocket. “But that is sad. He blamed himself when I guess it wasn’t his fault.”

“It wasn’t! If George Eacker hadn’t fucking cheated, Philip might have lived. He might have gotten to grow up and do great things, and now we’ll never know!”

“Okay, you need to stop. I know you love this, but it happened over two hundred years ago and you need to let it go because I want to go to bed and you,” she took the glass of wine out of your hand, “need to stop drinking. You have class in the morning”

“Since when are you the mom friend?” you asked, slightly miffed that [Y/F/N] had cut you off.

“Since you can’t seem to realize that it’s two in the morning and you have an eight AM tomorrow that you can’t miss,” she replied.

You simply muttered a “fine” before slinking off to your bedroom. You didn’t bother with changing into your pajamas and just laid in bed in your clothes from that day, which consisted of an oversized flannel and capri leggings. You didn’t realize how truly tired you were until you remembered you still had to brush your teeth and wash your face but by the time you found enough motivation to get up, you were already falling asleep. Whatever, you thought, I’ll just do it tomorrow.

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