#ofsmoke

🍬 Is my muse a sub, dom, or switch?

Hestia simply smiled at the older girl’s statement. She knew quite well that it was never going to happen. No one, in their right mind, would ever let a Weasley rule, no matter their blood status or allegiance. The family was looked down upon in her organization, and for good reason. While her parents never slandered the Weasley name, they knew better than to acquaint themselves with filth. But for the sake of keeping her name pure, Hestia had to agree; play nice like everyone expected her to. Play nice so they don’t feel the knife she’s stabbing through their backs.

          ❝I think you’d make the p e r f e c t queen.❞

She shifts uncomfortably in her seat, notq u i t e looking at him. ❝Maybe we were,Max,❞ she says, although it's clear fromher tone she doubts it. Aren't special thingssupposed to last? she can't help but think.Isn't that what makes them "special"? ❝We just … weren't special enough.❞ 

Sloane’s gaze was fixated on the view of the sea from the Astronomy tower as she listened to Lucy’s voice. Her eyes rolled over to the side to look at Lucy as her mind processed what the other girl was saying, a cloud of smoke escaped her lips. Usually, when the two thought of something to do, they follow the idea with a plan of action. Of course, plans sometimes had their faults, and at that moment, theirs was not having one at all. Taking another drag of her joint and releasing the smoke, Sloane folded her free arm over her stomach as she shrugged her shoulders lightly.

          ❝Que sera, sera, my darling,❞ Sloane replied calmly, looking back at the sea. ❝I suppose we’ll just have to take some time to come up with one together. As they say, two heads are better than one.❞