a ground out
seen from Estonia
seen from Germany
seen from Russia
seen from Argentina
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from Poland
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from Argentina
seen from Italy
seen from United States
seen from United States
a ground out
seeing phoebe in september
Now that I’ve finished all of throne of glass (and cried) I can share that in the beginning I was getting annoyed with all the mentions of this aelin character. I liked celaena and wanted to stick with her. I didn’t want a new character swooping in and stealing the story and I have to get attached to her instead.
Luckily it worked out for me lmaooo ily aelin im sorry i was so reluctant what a transition
just been blessed with headit inspo
oh thank god it's taken months but i finally know what this fucking pineapple smut is About
Infold rly called me a tragic lonely little virgin to my face because wdym Rafayel came home in 6 PULLS?!?!
The morning found her hungover and dehydrated, creeping out of bed so as not to disturb Nick. He didn’t move. He slept silent and still, like an assassin. The red light of the morning pressed through drawn curtains, but the apartment was dim and hazy as she dressed. The swoosh of passing vehicles. Morning radio through the floor of the neighbour above. The boiler hummed while Lissa washed her face with warm water and applied a blob of some lavish moisturizer which hadn’t been there last time she’d stayed. It did not improve her complexion.
I had sex with someone called Murt was the prevailing thought of the morning, rising to her mind again and again while she rummaged through the kitchen for something to eat. Bilious thoughts, they had become.
All of it—the mixtape, Carmen Electra on the wall, the slightly worn, saggy elastic on his underpants—seemed more sordid and disreputable in the cold light of morning. Had she done that? Yes. She had done that. No amount of thinking would make it untrue.
And she supposed this was who she was now in an official capacity—the type of person she had once judged happily from the comfort of Joshua Dempsey’s arms, whom she’d watched with pity and disdain, thanking God it would never be her. She had to shake the memories off her. Memories of him—that time in her life generally—had the tendency to send her spiralling into a fit of panic if she let them.
So instead of thinking, she scraped chocolate spread from the bottom of a jar onto a slice of toast and ate it on the couch while examining Nick’s bookshelf. His books were nothing like her books—the ones he was always making fun of, saying, “Is that Anna Karenina?” when she pulled one out on the train. He only read things with black covers and red text. Slick, dangerous novels with titles like The Stalker.
And magazines. He was a voracious reader of magazines for reasons unknown to Lissa. She picked one up now. CONFERENCE SMACKDOWN, it declared. CAN CAMERON FINALLY UPSTAGE BLAIR?
Why did Nick care?
It opened automatically to a page where a girl band posed in a scantily clad arrangement on a sheet of satin, and she understood. Chewing her crusts, she looked at each of them in turn and concluded she had better hair than at least two of them.
Her phone was ringing inside her bag. It was by the bed.
Nick groaned his objection as he came to life. “Lissa,” he said. “I asked you…”
“Oh, shut up, would you?” she hissed, lunging across the room to wrangle the phone free. She hated him in the morning. He was like a little boy.
Jade’s name flashed on the screen, and Lissa retreated to the furthest corner of the apartment to answer. “Hello?”
“Morning hon! Sounding a bit subdued.”
“Yeah, sorry. I’m trying to be quiet. It’s early.”
“Not that early for you, is it? Nine already?”
“I had a late night.”
“So I thought. You didn’t come home…”
There was a pause.
“Yes, I slept at a friend’s house,” not sure why she was saying ‘friend’ as if Jade didn’t know she had roughly one of them, and it was Nick Lynott, over there covering his head with a pillow.
“Well, I was wondering if you’re still up for our trip. I could collect you?”
She wasn’t, not really, but it was important to her father to make an effort, so she said: “Yeah, of course. I’m looking forward to it, actually.”
“Amazing! I’ll see you soon.”
Lissa returned to the magazines for a while, reading up on men’s fashion and tips on how to love ‘em and leave ‘em—a guide for womanisers she was surprised wasn’t already cut out and stuck to the fridge. She had a quiet half-hour on the couch. The world outside was moving, but time was suspended in the apartment. Minutes rolling by on the digital clock, Nick’s steady breathing.
Her phone buzzed, and she grabbed it before it rattled the coffee table more than once. A text from Jade. Waiting outside 4 u! Whenever ur ready xoxo J. Phone networks didn’t charge by syllable, so she didn’t know why she typed like that.
She found her sandals—those same sandals—and put them on, and then finally Nick was stirring out of hibernation.
“You’re off?”
“Yeah, just heading.”
“Ah…” he sat up with some effort, perfectly tousled and bare chested, and it was suddenly very hard for her to look at him properly. “C’mere, then.”
He hugged her, a little sweaty from the duvet and smelling less than fresh, but it didn’t truly bother her as much as she pretended as she wriggled away, telling him to get off her and open a window or something. It was stuffy.
“Come over later in the week, will you? I’ll cook you dinner,” he said, and she laughed.
“You’ll cook?”
“I’ll get a takeaway. We’ll watch a film.”
“Yeah, fine. That might be nice.”
“It will. And you have to tell me more about last night. I want to know all about Murt,” he wiggled his eyebrows while she groaned queasily.
“No more chat about Murt. I’m never talking about him again. That whole night was crazy.”
“It wasn’t crazy,” he yawned as she zipped her phone into her handbag. “It marks the start of something new, doesn’t it? Finally, you aren’t a virgin anymore.”
“Yeah, yeah. Shut up,” she said. “I’m leaving.”
He was still cracking up while she unlocked the door, leaving him with a sullen “bye” before his last “love you!” trailed her into the stairwell.
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