#prep school scandal

[justlemmeadoreyou]

1. prepping (restaurant owner!harry x chef!y/n)

summary: you landed your dream job as a line cook at harry styles' prestigious haus kitchen restaurant in chicago. the tough chef job demands focus, but it's really hard when your boss looks like harry styles.

words: 4.3k

warnings: nothing major in this one

Your palms were sweating as you gripped the steering wheel, driving through downtown Chicago towards your new job. You kept glancing down at the address on the printed directions, double checking that you were heading the right way. The last thing you wanted was to be late on your first day.

Ever since getting your culinary degree, you had applied to what felt like hundreds of restaurant jobs, desperate to get your foot in the door of a real professional kitchen. But very few places wanted to hire someone so fresh out of school with no actual experience. 

Finally, after months of dead ends, you had landed a line cook position at Haus Kitchen - one of the hottest farm-to-table restaurants in the city. You could scarcely believe your luck when you got the call saying you were hired.

Haus was the brainchild of Harry Styles, international superstar singer turned chef. After his chart-topping solo music career, Harry had traded in artist life to pursue his lifelong passion for cooking. Using his accumulated wealth, he opened up Haus five years ago to rave reviews, quickly earning a well deserved Michelin star.

You vividly remembered watching Harry's transition from a pop idol to dashing culinary entrepreneur play out in the media. As a teenage girl, you had been obsessed with him during his One Direction days.

Your bedroom walls were plastered with Harry's posters and you had relentlessly played their songs, sighing over his tousled hair and pouty lips. Then as you got older and Harry went solo, your boyband crush evolved into more of an intense celebrity infatuation as he cultivated a cool, rebellious image.

There were countless gossipy blind items about his infamous hellraising, flings with models and socialites, and run-ins with the law. You had followed all the scandalous Harry headlines with rapt attention - from getting papped stumbling out of nightclubs with an endless parade of beautiful women to getting arrested for drug possession outside Soho clubs. 

But finally in his late 20s, seemingly bored of rockstar debauchery, Harry had pivoted to reset his image as a knowledgeable culinary entrepreneur. You admired how he transformed from tabloid bad boy into a refined, successful businessman and chef.

He began studying haute cuisine under the tutelage of famous European chefs, traveling abroad to hone his skills further. While continuing to record new musical projects independently, Harry started establishing himself in the culinary world through guest stints on TV cooking shows and food/wine events.

With his brooding good looks, charming personality, and serious culinary chops, the world fell for Harry's new sophisticated image. Before long, he was the subject of breathless puff pieces in food magazines as "the sexiest Renaissance man in the kitchen." It seemed natural when Harry soon opened up his passion project Haus to capitalize on his popularity and love of food.

Now nearing your mid-20s, your teenage fannish obsession had cooled into more of an admiring celebrity crush. You had stayed aware of Harry's journey, but your priorities were focused on graduating culinary school at the top of your class and finding your own big break in the Chicago restaurant scene.

So when you landed a job at Harry's iconic Haus, it almost didn't feel real. Not only would you be working at one of the city's most exclusive spots, but under the same roof as a chef you had admired for ages.

Not that you expected to have any real personal contact with Harry himself, you reminded yourself as you merged onto the exit for downtown. He was an internationally famous mega-celebrity who had to have hundreds of staffers, not to mention being handsomely paid to just be the smiling face of the business while professional kitchen vets like Paul Thomason handled the day-to-day operations.

Still, you had to admit to yourself that a tiny part of you tingled at the mere idea of being in the same building as Harry Styles...hopefully catching a glimpse of that handsome, endlessly charming man in the flesh...

You shook your head dismissively and double checked the directions again, annoyed at getting so easily distracted. This was your big break, your first serious job in the industry. You needed to bring your A-game and focus, not dwell on silly celebrity daydreams.

It was your fantasies of becoming a respected chef that needed to take priority.

You pulled into the parking lot for the restaurant, double checking that you had the address right. The sleek, modern building had a neon "Haus Kitchen" sign glowing over opulent double-door entrances flanked by velvet ropes and cheerful outdoor seating areas.

Taking a steadying breath, you cut the engine and sat for a moment, giving yourself a pep talk. This was it. No more messing around doing coursework or labs - this was the major leagues with all the intensity of a real professional kitchen. You had to bring it all day, every day.

As you climbed out of your beat-up Honda, you smoothed down your spotless new chef's whites, making sure everything looked pressed and presentable. With your knife kit tucked under your arm, you walked towards the entrance with purpose, chin held high.

From the moment you stepped through the doors, it was like being transported into another world. The smell of simmering sauces, roasting meats, and freshly baked bread envaded your senses. Even hours before opening, the energy and hustle for dinner prep was palpable.

Off to the left was the main dining room you had studied photos of online - effortlessly cool with vaulted exposed wooden beam ceilings, brick accents, and casually modern decor. Pendant lighting glowed cozily over tables draped in white linens and rustic chandeliers hung over plush tufted leather banquettes. A lively bar area centered the space, stocked with top-shelf liquors and backed by a dazzling display of custom glassware.

In the distance ahead, you could hear the clamoring of the kitchen in full swing. Your stomach did a nervous flip - this was it. Taking another fortifying breath, you headed through the archway.

You emerged into a large, sleek open kitchen layout, all stainless steel and butcher block islands. Uniformed cooks were buzzing at their stations like a well-oiled machine under the barked commands of an older, stocky man you immediately recognized as Head Chef Paul Thomason.

Despite his gruff reputation, watching Thomason in action was nothing short of mesmerizing. He moved between stations with the easy grace of a conductor, sampling sauces, tweaking seasonings, and directing the workflow with gruff orders. There was no wasted movement or micro-expression as he continually tasted and perfected dishes, alternating between thoughtful contemplation and decisive action.

Though you had only seen Thomason in pictures and television appearances, his fierce focus and mastery were unmistakable. This was what true professional kitchen expertise looked like in the flesh.

Feeling like a mouse that had wandered into the lair of a lion, you hovered near the entrance, uncertain of what to do next. The kitchen team flowed around you in a choreographed dance, deftly ignoring your presence as they prepped and plated flawlessly.

After a few minutes of anxious loitering, the intimidating Thomason seemed to finally notice you. His grizzled features contorted as he scowled, looking you up and down through eyes squinted with decades of kitchen smoke exposure.

"You must be the new kid," he said gruffly, crossing his bulky tattooed arms over his broad chest. Even without raising his voice, Thomason had a rumbling bass that easily carried over the kitchen's clanging din. "Christ, you're shorter than I expected. Think you've got what it takes to keep up around here?"

You nervously clutched your knife kit closer while trying to not look as flustered as you felt. "Y-yes, chef!" 

You swallowed hard, hyper aware of everyone around you now watching the interaction. "I, uh...I came ready to work as hard as it takes. Whatever you need from me."

Thomason grunted, squinting at you for another long moment in consideration. Then he jerked his head towards the back. "Get changed out quick and meet me back here in 5. I'll get you started on prep and we'll see what you're made of. Don't keep me waiting."

"Yes, chef!" you responded immediately, wincing at how high your voice had gone up an octave.

Without another word, Thomason turned and strode back into the controlled chaos of the line, immediately redirecting his attention to sauces and garnishes. Letting out a shaky breath, you scurried towards the changing rooms, heart jackhammering.

Well, you were officially in the thick of things now...

You hustled back out to the kitchen, trying not to look frazzled from your rushed change. A young Hispanic line cook spotted you and waved you over to his station.

"You the newbie?" he asked, not unkindly. When you nodded, he jerked his head towards the walk-in refrigerator. "Thomason wants you to start by breaking down some of the produce delivery for prep."

"Got it, thanks," you replied, eager to prove yourself. The line cook gestured you through the door into the immense chilled walk-in.

You blinked as your eyes adjusted to the cold, taking in the sights and smells of the impressive stockpile. Shelves upon shelves were stocked with an array of fresh seasonal produce - crates bursting with leafy greens, bushels of root vegetables, flats of vibrantly colored tomatoes, exotic fruits, and mushroom varieties you had only read about.  

Your culinary school had humble basics for ingredients, nothing like the bounty of locally-sourced, meticulously selected provisions that Haus Kitchen demanded. You felt a thrill at getting to work with such an extraordinary pantry.

Respirating clouds puffed from your mouth as you scanned the inventory tagging system. You had been taught similar protocols in your food safety courses, but there was something exhilarating about putting that knowledge into practice in a real professional environment.

Grabbing a stack of plastic totes, you made a game plan for which items to start prepping first based on perishability levels and what would be needed for that evening's specials. Though you started out slow at first, you steadily built up a cadence of meticulously cleaning, trimming, and sorting into appropriate storage containers.  

By the time Thomason stuck his head in to check on you an hour later, you had developed an efficient system and made solid progress through a mountain of deliveries.

The head chef grunted in approval as he inspected your neat stacks of prepped produce, crossing his arms as he looked you up and down with a critical eye.

"Not bad, kid," he rumbled. "Clearly know which end of a knife to use, at least. C'mon back out, got some protein fabrication for you to tackle next."

You diligently followed Thomason back out to the main kitchen, wiping some sweat from your brow with your sleeve. Despite the industrial cooling system, the heat blazing from the ovens and range tops made the open kitchen feel like a furnace.

As Thomason led you to a stainless steel butcher's block island, you couldn't help but gawk at the array of gleaming knives hanging from magnetic strips overhead. The blades were works of art - sleek, razor sharp, and clearly extremely expensive.

Gesturing you over, Thomason grabbed a boning knife and twirled it deftly before handing it to you. "Let's see how you handle breaking this down."

He gave the block a solid smack with his meaty palm, indicating for you to get started on the glistening slab of beef tenderloin before you. Taking a steadying breath, you gripped the bone-handled knife firmly and leaned over the cutting board.

"Yes chef," you murmured before carefully piercing the thick cut of meat, angling the blade with practiced precision from all your training.

Around you, the kitchen bustled with the usual rattling pans, sizzling ranges, and Thomason's occasional barked orders. But as you fell into the rhythm of deftly separating fat and sinew, the noises began to fade from your awareness.  

You were completely focused on your knife work, confidently sawing through the tender flesh as you reduced the tenderloin down to portions and trimmings for other stations to further break down. It was meditative, almost hypnotic, the way you instinctively slid the blade along rendered paths of butchery.

After your initial intimidation of the intense Haus environment, you started to find your groove and calm amidst the choreographed insanity surrounding you. You were so laser-focused on the satisfaction of properly executing each slicing technique that the rest of the kitchen chaos became mere white noise.

You had no idea how long you stayed absorbed in the butchery, but eventually you became aware of a presence at your elbow. Glancing up, you nearly jumped to see Harry Styles watching you work with an unreadable expression, hands shoved into the pockets of his slim-fitting slacks.

His dress shirt was rolled up to his elbows and the fitted cotton fabric clung to his toned arms and chest, a few chest hairs peeking out of his slightly undone top button. A single necklace rested in the divot between his sculpted collarbones, drawing your eye to the alluring hollow of his throat as he swallowed hard.

You froze mid-slice, mesmerized by watching the tendons in Harry's wrist and forearm flex as his hands flexed restlessly in his trouser pockets. After a beat, his pillowy lips curved into an easy smile, crinkling the delicate crow's feet at the corners of his kaleidoscope green eyes.

"Afternoon," Harry said in that lazy, husky drawl that used to make millions of fans swoon. He flicked his eyes down to your handiwork before bringing them back up to your face. "Looking good there, newbie."

You blinked, not trusting your ears for a moment before realizing with a jolt that Harry was very much real and quite close. Like, unnecessarily close for your over-stimulated brain to handle.

"Uh...I-I, um...th-thank you?" you croaked out, wanting to cringe at how lame you sounded. Get it together, this wasn't the time to geek out–you instructed yourself.

But Harry didn't seem to notice your fumbling, simply giving you a dimpled half-smile before reaching around you to snag a stray piece of trimming from the butcher's block. He inspected it contemplatively before popping it into his mouth, those plump lips wrapping obscenely around the bite as he chewed and ruminated with relish.

"Perfection," he declared after swallowing, shooting you another crooked grin like you were co-conspirators sharing an inside joke. With a subtle wink, Harry pivoted on his boot heel and sauntered off, whistling a jaunty tune.

As he retreated, you risked a glance down at his form-fitting trousers shamelessly admiring the way the fine fabric cupped the ample curves of his pert backside. Even at his age, Harry Styles had the muscle-toned body of a man decades younger - long, lean muscles taut under golden tanned skin.

You blinked hard and shook your head, annoyed at catching yourself ogling your new boss like a drooling fangirl. Pull it together! This was totally inappropriate and unprofessional. You had zero business daydreaming about someone who gave you your paycheck, no matter how obscenely famous and heartthrob-ishly handsome they were.

Firmly re-focusing on your knife work, you determinedly put Harry from your mind and tried to re-immerse yourself in the rhythm and refuge of the butchery. But the memory of his distractingly lush mouth so close kept replaying over and over, preventing you from recapturing your previous sense of meditative flow. 

Dammit, you needed to get a grip! This kind of inappropriate crush on your employer was exactly the kind of silly, immature behavior that would make you look like a unprofessional joke in a serious kitchen environment. Blowing an opportunity like this was not an option.

Later, as you untied your apron strings and joined the team in breaking down the last stations for cleaning at closing, Thomason sidled up alongside you. You braced yourself for more of his typical gruff rebukes or criticisms.

Instead, the veteran chef simply gave you a long, considered look before saying gruffly, "You did good work today, kid. I can already tell you got the stuff to handle it around here if you keep your head down."

You blinked up at him in surprise before managing a small smile. "Thank you, chef. I really appreciate that."

Thomason grunted noncommittally before wandering off, likely to oversee something else. As you tidied your workstation, you couldn't help feeling a small glow of pride. Despite the craziness of your first day, you had seemingly passed this initial trial with flying colors.

As you left through the back entrance into the quiet night air, you took a deep breath and allowed yourself a satisfied smile. Maybe, just maybe, you really did have what it took to succeed in this highly competitive environment after all. For tonight at least, you had handled the punishing pace and standards. Tomorrow was another day to prove yourself all over again.

***

Your day started before sunrise the next morning, brewing a strong coffee and reviewing the notes you had taken the previous evening about which menu items needed prepping. By the time you arrived at Haus, reinvigorated by the crisp morning air, the kitchen was already a hive of activity in preparation for lunch service. 

The intense scrutiny under which you worked only amplified with the daylight. Every slice, every sauté was carried out under the watchful eyes of Chef Thomason and his steely gaze. More than once, you felt his presence looming over your shoulder, inspecting your work with the same critical eye as a diamond cutter examining a flawless gem.

"This slice is uneven," he barked, startling you. You flinched, resisting the urge to make excuses as he continued, "The portions all need to be identical for plating. Paying attention to details like that is the difference between a sloppy meal and a stellar one. Don't let it happen again."

"Yes, chef," you replied tightly, making a minor adjustment to your knife work. Though his words stung, you had to admit Thomason was completely right. In a restaurant of this caliber, any minor imperfection could spell disaster.  

You redoubled your efforts, pouring all of your concentration into each preparation, each plate. By the time the end of your shift rolled around, you were drenched in sweat, your feet screaming from being on them for 12 hours straight. But you had successfully made it through day two without any major mishaps.

As the whirlwind of dinner service finally calmed to a stopping point, you stood in the kitchen obediently waiting for Thomason's inspection and inevitable critique. But to your surprise, he merely gave a curt nod of approval before waving you off.

"Not bad, newbie," he grunted. "Get a good night's rest. We'll need you back bright and early tomorrow."

Those few gruff words of acceptance warmed you more than any high praise could have. For Thomason, a man of very few words, his small nod seemed to indicate you were, for the moment, living up to his exceedingly high standards.

The high from that small victory buoyed your spirits as you made your way towards the back exit, already dreaming of the few hours of sleep you might be able to grab before starting the cycle over again. You were so wrapped up in your thoughts that you nearly bowled someone over coming around a corner.

"Whoa there!"  

You froze, looking up into the grinning, mirthful eyes of Harry Styles himself. Up close, the force of his charm and magnetism practically crackled in the air around him like a physical force. His sweater clung distractingly to his lithe, muscular frame and his chestnut hair was casually tousled. A pair of small diamond studs glinted in each ear.

"Sorry about that, H-Harry," you stammered, resisting the urge to take a flustered step back. You were vividly aware of just how little physical space separated the two of you. "I wasn't watching where I was going."

If he noticed your frazzled state up close, Harry didn't let on. His pink lips merely curved in an easy, dimpled smile. "No need to apologize. I don't usually make a habit of lurking around blind corners, to be fair."

You laughed before you could stop yourself, surprised at how easily he was putting you at ease despite your elevated heart rate. Up close, Harry's eyes weren't just green - an entire kaleidoscope of colors ranging from jade to emerald to amber seemed to shift and dance in his gaze. It was...dazzling, frankly.

Clearing your throat, you forced yourself to take a subtle step backwards, putting a more professional amount of space between the two of you. The last thing you needed was to do something wildly inappropriate that would get you fired before the end of your first week.

"Still, I should have been paying better attention to my surroundings," you replied, aiming for a respectful, levelheaded tone. "It's been a really intense couple of days just trying to stay on top of everything."

Harry nodded in understanding, arching one perfectly sculpted brow. "Thomason hasn't let up on you at all, I take it?" 

When you shook your head ruefully, he chuckled. "I know that seems like his permanent state - gruff, perpetually unsatisfied, and grumpy as a hibernating bear. But honestly, the fact that he hasn't fired you already is a good sign you're doing well."

You blinked at him in surprise. "Wait...really? But he critiques everything! I feel like I've gotten nothing but corrections so far."

"Exactly." Harry's dimples flashed as he grinned. "That's how you know he sees potential in you. If Thomason didn't think you had what it took, he wouldn't waste his breath giving feedback. He'd just cut you loose and hire someone else to start over."

His words were like a soothing balm on the anxiety and self-doubt you'd been carrying around for the past couple of days. You hadn't realized that Thomason's critical approach was actually a twisted form of acceptance and mentorship. The revelation caused the hard knot of tension between your shoulder blades to finally release.

"Huh," you exhaled, unable to stop the small smile tugging at your lips as you finally understood Thomason's tough love. "I guess I should take that as a compliment then."

"Absolutely," Harry agreed with an approving nod. Then his expression softened around the edges, growing earnest as his gaze searched yours. "Look, I know it's a huge adjustment and the pace here can be absolutely brutal starting out. But for what it's worth...I think you've got what it takes to be something really special in this kitchen."

You felt yourself flush at his unexpected praise, your stomach fluttering with a swarm of nervous butterflies. Harry held your eyes for a lingering moment before seeming to mentally collect himself.

Clearing his throat, he flashed you one more crooked grin. "But don't take my word for it - the proof will be in your work. Stay focused and trust the process. I've got faith you can handle it."

With that, he brushed past you, his shoulder grazing yours in a way that made your entire body buzz with friction. As Harry sauntered off down the hallway, you couldn't stop yourself from turning to watch his retreating form - the easy, rolling gait, the tantalizing sway of his hips below the slim cut of his trousers, the tousled waves of his chestnut hair.

You let out a shaky exhale, feeling off-balance and electrified all at once. Get a grip, you scolded yourself firmly. That was your boss - your incredibly famous, wealthy, and wildly attractive boss. Daydreaming was a one-way ticket to catching inappropriate feelings and potentially torpedoing your entire career before it even started.

And yet...you couldn't quite silence the part of your brain reliving Harry's velvet tone and intense eye contact as he professed having faith in your abilities. Just the casual warmth of his voice and proximity had set your heart pounding in a way it hadn't since you were a hormonal teenager, utterly dazzled by his rock star persona.

Shaking your head, you forced yourself to turn on your heel and head for the exit. Overthinking could only lead to dangerous territory. You needed to stay laser-focused on your work - that was the only way to succeed at Haus and make your culinary dreams a reality.

As you stepped out into the fresh evening air, you paused for a moment on the deserted back stoop, closing your eyes and taking a few centering breaths. When you opened them again, you felt the last fluttering tendrils of Harry's heated presence dissipate, replaced by a familiar sense of determined calm.

This job was your priority now, not silly schoolgirl crushes or indulging fantasies about your wildly unattainable boss. You knew better than to get distracted by daydreams that could only lead to self-sabotage. 

With a decisive nod, you strode towards your car with renewed focus. You would prove yourself at Haus through your skills and work ethic alone. No other agenda, no unprofessional entanglements allowed. 

Your passion was cuisine, creating nourishing dishes that delighted - that had to remain your sole priority. You couldn't afford any distractions from that lest you squander this incredible opportunity. Steadying your breathing, you looked forward with fresh clarity and resolve.

Tomorrow was a new day to earn your place in Harry's formidable kitchen. And this time, you vowed, you were utterly prepared to meet the challenge with your complete and undivided focus.

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

tell me if you like this! this is an idea for a new series that will probably have 6 parts??? i guess. but do tell me if you like it! because there's no use in writing when nobody reads 😭😭

feedback | masterlist

taglist: @freedomfireflies @gurugirl @thechaoticjoy @styleslover-1994 @gem1712 @ellaorchard @bxbyysstuff @opheliaofficial07 @rafaaoli

@tchlamqtsgf @the-mouse27 @indierockgirrl @vrittivsanghavi @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @drewrry @me-undiscovered @tbsloneely @whoreonmondays @kathb59 @avalentina @kittenhere @speedywritingharrystylesjudge

@mypolicemanharryyy @theendx888 @ladscarlett @daphnesutton @youcan-nolonger-run @prettythingsworld   @chesthairrry @becauseheartsgetbroken-hs   @hisparentsgallerryy @harryhitties @storyschanging   @selluequestrian   @islakp217 @swiftmendeshoran @princessaxoxo @tenaciousperfectionunknown @hermoinelove @chronicallybubbly @angeldavis777

[married-to-google-translater]

Loved what you did with my first ask! I'd like to request a part 2 where Kalim overhears the conversation and is like "hell yes! let's prep a wedding!" and just being the biggest cheerleader.

Poor Jamil both exasperated and excited in the background. Cause he gets to marry the love of his life and it also serves as a legitimate reason to end at least Jamil's servitude:

Shitty nobles: A Viper must never abandon his master!

Kalim: Well he's not a Viper anymore now is he!

Part one is here :3

Sorry for the wait I hope u enjoy this <3

Jamil Viper

Jamil would be even more confused by what happened.

He would have trouble believing you would get married.

At least in the future.

Jamil would be thrilled to have your last name.

He thought it would be one of the most beautiful.

However, the wedding would not happen immediately.

Jamil would like to save money and plan this day properly.

It should be the happiest day of your life.

Besides, you should finish school before the wedding.

Jamil would be a little nervous about how Kalim would react.

It wouldn't have been very long since the Oberblot incident.

Kalim would support Jamil 100% though.

He would even offer to help with the arrangements and the payment for the wedding.

This could be useful because Kalim really knows how to throw parties.

Even if Kalim accepts this, others may not.

This would be a minor scandal.

Jamil would try to protect you from malicious rumours.

At first he would try to be nice…

But if that doesn't help... well, sometimes the powers of hypnosis come in handy

[eds-gryff]

Letters and Lust

Edmund Pevensie x Reader

-

Requested by @potatosdragon (hope it’s to your liking!)

‘Hi again,

I really liked the writing you made with my idea, and I just thought of another one and had to send it to you.

So it's Edmund Pevensie again

And the reader has been sent to a boarding school so the writing would be letters sent between the reader and ed. Maybe he sends her a scandalous one and the teachers find it.

It might be a bit vague so I would totally understand if you don't want to write it but I just needed to see if you would.

Thank you so much’

-

Y/N- Your Name

L/N- Last Name

Y/H- Your Hometown/Home-Country

Y/n/N- Your Nickname

-

There is no mention of Narnia, so the fic can either be taken as taking place in a non-Narnia world, or just that the sex and the letters are more important than ruminating on the left-behind fantasy world 🤷‍♀️

-

Warning : smut, explicit language, charming-and-sweet-boyfriend!Edmund

----------------------------------------------------------

Mareafe Academy

6th September, 1944

Dearest Edmund,

I have literally just sat down on the bed in my dormitory, and the FIRST thing I did was pull out a piece of paper and a pen so I could write to you. And, alright, perhaps I also arranged my novels in the little bedside table I have.

I’m early, and my dorm-mates haven’t arrived yet, so I can write in peace and solitude, too- shucks, I won’t be having much of that anymore, will I? It hasn’t even been twenty minutes in the boarding school yet, but I already really miss day school. However DO you manage at boarding school??? And you’ve been studying at one since you were eleven!

I miss you, Ed. I miss your freckles. I miss you holding my hand. I miss zoning out of the conversation when you talk about chess. I miss you not even realising that I’ve zoned out.

I wish my parents weren’t going away to Y/H for the rest of the year- yes, I will miss them, too- and I wish that St. Finbar’s had a vacancy so I could have attended then, because I would have been close to you throughout the year then. I really thought that’s how it would happen- that once school started again, you’d be going to Hendon, and I’d be going to St. Finbar’s, and we’d be close-by, like always. I mean, the last couple of years, we were together all the time, because the war had closed the schools down.

I love you. Chess-obsessed idiot you are, but I love you so much. Alright, you’re not an idiot, you’re the smartest person I know, but still. Your cheeks get so red when I call you an idiot.

I have to go, I can hear footsteps coming to this room. You know what that means- people. Ugh. I do not like people.

I’ll post this when I get time, and you BEST write me back as soon as possible! Bye-bye, darling.

Love, Y/N

Y/N stared at the letter after she capped her pen, and continued staring at it even as the noise of chattering and laughter filled the room.

She finally stopped staring once one of the girls approached the bed she was sitting on, with a welcoming smile- probably one of the old students- and she put down the letter. As she sat up and readied herself to stand up, and- regrettably- socialise, her eyes fell on the letter one last time.

‘Dearest Edmund’ were the two words she managed to read, and she smiled to herself.

--

The day after that, Y/N hurried to the telephone room during the break, after the classes of the day and before the prep-time of the evening. Her hurrying was because the monitor of her form had come by her solitary armchair, where she’d been reading the newest Nancy Drew, and informed her that her mother was calling.

“Hello, M-?”

“Don’t finish the word, darling, I’m not your Mum.” Came the lovely voice of her even lovelier boyfriend, Edmund Pevensie. “Did I get the routine right? It’s your break now, yeah?”

“Yes- it is-” Y/N had sent him her class-routine along with the letter, “but- I thought- the monitor said that-”

“Oh, I just put Susan on the telephone for that.” He chuckled. “She sounds very much like a priggish old lady.”

Y/N snorted, after which he continued, sounding a bit nervous, “Wasn’t sure how receptive a teacher or monitor would be to a young man calling and asking for the prettiest person in school.”

Her cheeks were already scarlet, “Ed, you haven’t even seen the others in the school.”

“And I don’t need to.”

“You charmer, you.” Y/N spoke, toying the telephone wire around her fingers. Then her voice softened, dropping to a whisper, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” His voice softened, as well, and she could imagine the tenderness in his chocolate brown perfectly. “I miss you, Y/n/N.”

“Me too- and the fact that I probably won’t see you until Easter break-” her parents would be returning to Finchley then, “which is SEVEN MONTHS FROM NOW, is just torture.”

“I couldn’t agree more. The moment I’ve enough money, I’m coming up there and we’re spending the weekend at some cosy inn.”

Her blush deepened, and- oh, how she wanted to kiss him. And more. Oh, she truly wanted that inn-weekend immediately.

Still, she spoke teasingly, “I think the Headmistress might have some problems with you whisking away one of her students for the entire weekend.”

“What can educational administrators or institutions do when it comes to true love?” Edmund spoke dramatically to his girlfriend, and Y/N- giggling again- could visualise him having his hand on his heart. “Oh, I did love the birthday gift by the way, my last suspenders were hand-me-downs. But why-”

“Because-” Y/N’s voice lowered again, but it wasn’t so much as it was sultry, “I like to hold them and tug at them when I’m on top of you, and honestly, with the state the last ones were in, I was afraid they’d tear the moment I touched them.”

She glanced at the door of the tiny telephone room, just to make sure there was privacy- before turning back to the telephone.

“And- your suspenders aren’t the only thing I want to tear off you, you know.”

She heard a gulp on the other end, and then Edmund’s hoarse voice speak, “What I would give to be back to the ninth of August- and the twelfth- and the sixteenth- and the twenty-third- and the twenty-fifth- and the twenty-sixth- and the thirty-first- and the first two days of September.”

Visions of Edmund, his pale, freckled body under her, on top of her, beside her, kissing her, touching her, licking her, fucking her- made their way immediately into Y/N’s mind, and she clenched the telephone receiver tight.

They weren’t visions, they were memories, and she pushed her legs pressed together.

“I can’t believe you remember all the days.”

“I can’t believe we had less than a month of it.” He whispered back, huskily, and Y/N licked her lips. “Oh, Y/n/N-”

“If you keep calling me that, I will run back to Finchley and have-” oh, she couldn’t say the word, she didn’t know if the walls were soundproof!, “and read with you in front of your entire family.”

“Read?” Oh, she just knew that Edmund was smirking. “Read what?”

“Everything you can imagine.” Oh, she could be husky and seductive, too! “Everything you want.”

“Everything we want.” He corrected immediately, and Y/N could no longer ignore how wet she was. “I- oh, goodness gracious, I need to have a cold shower now.”

“I need to have you, but I’ll have to settle for a shower, too.” She just hoped none of her dorm-mates asked why she was having a shower at such an odd time. “I should go, prep-time is about to start. Call me earlier next time, my love.”

“Okay, will do.” Edmund promised. He’d call her all the time- it was the only way for her to be in his life for the next seven months. Well, that, and letters. Yes, letters... He could make good use of those, too. He really would miss his girlfriend terribly. “I love you, Y/n/N.”

Y/N sighed, and rested her head against the wall- wishing it was her boyfriend’s shoulder instead. As if it wasn’t bad enough that she missed her family- missed home- she had to miss the love of her life, too.

“And I love you, Edmund.”

--

Edmund was not at school. He was grateful for that- though, not as much as Peter or Susan were, and more than Lucy was- for he quite enjoyed the time at home, with his family. He didn’t mind school, generally, for he liked to read, and learn, and he did well in tests- but who could pick school over home?

Certainly not he.

Regardless of his gratitude for not being at school, he did regret that he was at home- because of Y/N. It was entirely unjust that she was stuck there, in some boarding school she had never been to, with her family travelling away for some urgent emergency, away from her home, whilst he was at home and with his family.

He wished he could go to her- he badly wanted to see her, be with her. Just for half a day, even. He was intending to, and had even started planning to go there for Christmas, but his parents had informed them that their grandparents were coming to stay Christmas week- which effectively poured water on his half-formed plans.

All they had now was letters. Not even telephone calls- at least for the present, for the old telephones had been removed, and new ones were being put in, and Y/N had said that she didn’t know how long it would take in her last letter. There was only one working telephone in the entire school, the Headmistress’s, and, as his dear girlfriend had said, “I don’t think she’ll be very keen to let me use it so I can hear sweet nothings from my boyfriend.”

Edmund was making the most of the letters.

Several of the ones he’d written were humorous- even if he did say so himself, droll, and loving, chronicling the things that had been happening at home and with him, as well as asking Y/N what was happening with her and showing sympathy for her ‘incarceration’ (as she put it in one of her letters) in school.

-

My cousin, Eustace, came over with his parents for Dad’s birthday. You’ve met him, the shrill kid with the eyebrows, and the terrible name- Eustace Clarence Scrubb? Anyway, they were to stay the entire weekend, which everyone- including them- were very annoyed about, but we all had decided to take it as much in stride as possible. But Eustace is just so annoying, and he was driving us four MAD the entire day- to show how much, even LUCY asked for him to shut up. Well, she said ‘please, be quiet, I have a headache’, but that’s ‘shut the bloody hell up!’ for her.

At any rate, he was driving us crazy. I told you he has a fixation with entomology- insects- and he brought his whole kit and collection of insects with him. Can’t part with it, apparently, since he’s observing some live specimens to note down some specifics about them that he feels the entomology books got wrong.

We (Peter and I, since Eustace is sharing our room) let those live specimens free. Freedom is extremely important, I know you agree, my darling.

In the morning, Susan- with such a smile on her face she resembled the Cheshire Cat- said that Eustace had demanded to go home, and so our aunt, uncle, and cousin were to leave for Cambridge after lunch by train.

And it’s only Saturday! HA.

-

It is unfair, Y/n/N, far too unfair that you’re in school, while most of the country isn’t! It should be a law that each educational institution should open and close at the exact same times, and that there should be the same number of hols- otherwise, it’s just bloody unjust. If I wasn’t already sure that I want to be a lawyer, this would have made it CERTAIN for me.

You deserve better, my love. Especially since you hate school so much. If I could swap places with you, I would. I’d look very pretty in a skirt and your school’s uniform, don’t you think?

-

Did you read the new Hardy Boys? The Melted Coins? Frankly, I’ve been enjoying Nancy Drew more than the last couple of Hardy Boys- is just me? I prefer mysteries related not to treasure nowadays, I feel. Buried treasure just feels far too overused.

-

But several were- they were not humorous and sympathetic and bibliophilic as much as they were libidinous.

Edmund wrote those letters late at night, when his brother was fast asleep and snoring. He was a night owl, thankfully- though, not as much as Y/N, whose sleeping schedule was more vampiric than human. He’d write the letters, burning the midnight oil, blush quite brilliantly at the contents of what he’d written as well as the images of his beautiful girl from that his mind came up with, and then he would go and post the letters the next morning.

-

Darling, you know I think a lot, but you know what I think the most about?

You. Always you. Your smile, your eyes, your eyebrows, the nose I love to kiss, the curve of your lips, and your hips. How I hold them when you take me inside you. The way your eyes flutter when I flick your nipples, how your mouth opens whenever I lick at your sex.

How incandescent you look during and after sex, on top of me or under, your body pressed hard against me. How your lips call my name, how my name sounds in your voice. We had so few moments where we could do all that- but we really made the most of it, and I’m endlessly grateful. And we’ll see each other very soon, and I SWEAR all our fantasies will be indulged.

You make me tremble, and you leave me breathless, especially when I look at your face flushed with ecstasy and when I hold you in my arms while making love. And I love you so much in those moments, as I love you in every moment I live.

-

I miss your tits. Your lovely, large, lovely tits. I miss how you giggled when I kissed them. I miss all of you.

-

Do you know I have to keep taking showers more than once every day? Every time I think of you, I just get so hard and I need to get myself off, after which I need to clean up- consequently showers.

Your last letter, about the- about the swimsuit and the swimming exhibitionism thing- I don’t think I’ve ever come so hard from getting myself off. If it’s your hands or mouth, yes, but not from my own hands.

I want that, too. You know that. I want all of that, so BADLY. Sometimes I’ll wander down some alleyways, the ones that are shortcuts, and I’ll think of pushing you against a wall and fucking you then and there. I think of you wearing those sexy knee-socks as you spread yourself on the bed. I’ll think of how bright your eyes get when I enter you, and-

Fuck, I’m hard again. Bloody hell, Y/n/N, I’ve already showered twice today! I’m going to die of a cold, at this rate.

-

Chocolate is my favourite taste. I adore chocolate, and I’d probably eat the floor if it was made of it. I mean, no offence to those five kids, but I should have gotten a Golden Ticket to Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory.

But I adore tasting you, too. I love you writhing under me, as I kiss along your thighs, and I love you pulling my hair when I finally have my tongue inside you. I adore everything about you, every single thing- but, gosh, your taste. You taste like oranges, and I drink your essence like I’ve been thirsty for centuries. I’m a rational person, easily the wisest in my family- not that that’s a difficult achievement- but you, Y/n/N, you drive me wild.

-

I want you to fuck me. I want you kneeling in front of me, your mouth around me, sucking me harder and faster. I want you to make me moan your name over and over and over until you unravel me completely. I want to give you hickeys everywhere. I want to be yours. I want to be inside you again. I want you.

-

Y/N’s replies would come the very next day, and he would lock himself in the bathroom whenever he read them.

Her replies were even more explicit and- as she had herself said in a telephone call- more unhinged than his.

-

Every night before I sleep, I masturbate. I close my eyes, fix my blanket, and then I touch myself. I touch myself, and I think of how you hold me. I touch myself, and I think how you kiss me. I touch myself, and I think of how you lick my breasts, how you suck at my clit. I touch myself, and my body shakes, and I think of how you fuck me. I come, somehow, my hips lifting, and I think of you and only you, my dearest.

Then I go to the bathroom to pee and wash my hands, and then, just as I’m about to fall asleep, I think of you again.

I turn, shoving my face into my pillow, and I fuck myself again, all the while wishing it was your fingers and your mouth and your cock inside me instead.

-

I drew you naked in class today. I spent a lot of time on your fingers. And your freckles. I really, truly, madly love your freckles. I love that I’ve kissed all of them, all over your body. Even the ones on your cock. I love them. I love you.

-

Was down swimming today- it’s cold weather usually, but somehow it was pretty warm today. I was really glad, and the MOMENT we finished breakfast, I ran to get my swimsuit and went to the pool. I mean, I didn’t run, I definitely never run, but I did walk very fast.

So I went to the pool, wearing my swimsuit and a bathrobe over it, and as I was taking it off, I wished you were there. I wanted you to watch me. I wanted to take off my robe, and my swimsuit, and I wanted you to see me, your pretty eyes going dark as I get naked. And I wanted you to take off whatever you were wearing, too- hopefully suspenders. I love you wearing suspenders, and I love to drag them off you. Obviously, I’d be watching you as well, because how can I ever NOT look at you?

And then I wanted to make love with you then and there. Outside, in public, uncaring of whether anyone could see. I still want it.

Writing this down, I’m throbbing again. I can smell how wet I am, goodness.

-

I might kill someone if I don’t get you inside my cunt right NOW.

P.S. (adding this in the morning), I didn’t kill anyone. A lot of people at school make me murderous, but I’ve had self-control so far.

I have, however, put a photograph of myself in this letter, one that I’m sure you’ll like. I’m not as adept a photographer as you- you know how much I fidget- but, again, I think you’ll like it. And I hope, love, that you’ll send me one in reply, too- only if you want to.

I love you. And enjoy my tits. Let me know what effect they have on you.

--

“Post’s here early!” One of Y/N’s classmates called out- she had just stood up to leave the Dining Hall, and had seen the postman walk across the doorway at the far end of it. “Oh, hope Mum got me the hair-band I fancied!”

As her friend pulled her down to the seat, teasing her in whispers that she needed a few dozen hair-bands to keep her flyaway hair in control, Y/N stood up.

She never ate much in the mornings, anyway- if it wasn’t compulsory, she would absolutely have skipped breakfast every day, waking up exactly six minutes before classes started. And now that mail was here early, she would go and see if she had letters- she usually had one from Edmund every other day, and one from her family every week, as well as occasional letters from some other friends she had left behind. There were, though, also many days that she did not have letters.

Today was not one of those days.

Recognising Edmund’s signature on the back of the envelope, Y/N snatched it from the tray of letters, and grinned hugely. She grinned so widely, in fact, that a group of first-formers heading her way saw her and ran away in the opposite direction.

She usually opened letters from her darling boyfriend in private, since their letters were private, and- more often than not- intimate. Today, though, she lacked the patience and ripped it open as soon as she reached the- thankfully empty, since most of the school was still at breakfast- entrance hall of Mareafe Academy.

Her fingers felt the texture of the letter’s paper- but along with it, they felt a much smoother, cooler surface. She pulled both out immediately- she was a curious creature, and then Y/N almost dropped the envelope.

She wasn’t just curious. She was forgetful as well, and she’d forgotten what she’d sent along with her last letter. And that she’d added a request, of sorts, for a similar response.

And she had got it.

It was a photograph of Edmund. He’d clearly taken it himself, from the angle- and another, far more clearer thing, was that he was naked. He was utterly, completely naked, from head to thigh- that was as much was there in the picture. Oh, and his thighs- what lay in between them- Y/N licked her lips.

Almost immediately, she bit her bottom lip to keep from accidentally moaning, and then Y/N hurried to the staircase that led up to the dormitories to sit down on the fifth step. Setting down the letter and the envelope on the sixth step- yes, yes, she would read it in a second, she desperately wanted to read what Edmund wrote, but she just needed to admire the gorgeous being that the love of her life was- she looked at the photograph even longer. Her eyes danced around to his pale and lithe form, to the flat of his abs that she’d press her palms against sometimes, to different spots of him she’d sucked, to all the starry freckles she had kissed, to his lovely lips that gave her kisses that brought her both calm and passion, and to all the parts of him that she adored.

She would absolutely be missing her first class, so she could take advantage of an empty dormitory- she would look at the photograph, and then she would mas-

“Child, is this yours?” Came a voice- and then, immediately, a hand bent down to pick up the letter and the envelope carelessly left on the stair.

Y/N turned, in panic and horror and so many other unpleasant, cardiac-arrest-reminiscent symptoms- but the damage was done. The form-mistress for the first form, as well as the House-Mistress for the school House she was in, Ms. Potts, had her hands on her letter.

And her eyes were on the letter- growing wider and wider and wider and wider with every passing second.

“What,” Ms. Potts said, her lips pursed so tightly together they seemed conjoined, and her fair cheeks turning a blotchy red, “is this abhorrent, shocking, and vile thing sent to you?”

Oh, Heavens. Had Edmund written about how much he liked to have her sit stop his face? Or perhaps some details about how she sucked his cock.

Y/N did not say anything, because she felt petrified. Mortified. She had wished for death before, but she didn’t think she’d ever wished it quite so keenly and desperately. She’d take anything! Couldn’t those air raids start again!? Just for the day?!

There used to be a chandelier in the entrance hall- it had been removed as the war had begun. She wished it was still there, so it could fall on her.

Ms. Potts shook in rage for a few more moments, apparently as unable as Y/N was of coherent speak- before spotting something in the student’s hand.

“What is that?” She asked, her gaze fixed on the photograph of Edmund. “Was that with his letter?”

“No.” The lie was immediate, and convincing. Talking, she was not very good at, but lie she could very well. “It’s a photograph of- of the tulip-bushes at our house in Finchley, ma’am. My parents asked a neighbour with green thumbs to look after the bushes, so they’ve bloomed again despite the house being empty-”

“Is that so?” The teacher cut off the narration, looking unimpressed. At least the splotches of red were lessening now, Y/N thought. “Let me see it, then, give it-”

“No!” Oh, she could have her letter, but she would not give away a photograph of Edmund naked! He’d trusted her with it, and she would DIE before letting a stranger see it. No one ever deserved to have their personal anecdotes or their personal photographs or documents be circulated to or by those who were never intended to see them. “Sorry, Ms. Potts, but it’s my photograph.”

“Hm, of course. Privacy is important.” Ms. Potts nodded, seemingly backing down. “But so is decency, Ms. L/N, and the things written in this letter-”

“I haven’t read the letter, ma’am.” Y/N said, because what else could she say? She didn’t know! She still felt like she was having a heart attack, and she was anxious about whether the hospital- oh, anxiety. She felt anxiety, and if Ms. Potts didn’t give her back her belongings, she may devolve into a full-blown panic attack. “I don’t know what it says. I’m not even sure whom it’s from-”

“Says it is from ‘your devoted and dearest Edmund’.” Her lip curled, and Y/N couldn’t be sure if that was a hint of humour or hatred. She could be sure, though, that she wanted the floor to open up and swallow her whole. Or at least transport her to somewhere far, far away, somewhere that was preferably known as ’Edmund’s arms’. “I thought such adoring signatures died out after the Georgian era.”

“I always thought that such signatures existed only in books.” The girl gave a shrug- not a nonchalant one, though that was the effect she was trying to convey. “Maybe- maybe that’s what this is, Ms. Potts, someone having transcribed a letter from a novel and sent it to me-”

“Admirable attempt at lying, L/N, but the lie only makes things worse. Mareafe Academy does not condone lying, cheating, or-” Ms. Potts looked down at the letter again, and the splotches reappeared, “such disgusting sentiments being written to the young women of tomorrow!”

“Oh, but- but, Ms. Potts-”

Why wasn’t there a dragon here? Either she could ride away on it, or it could eat her. Either way, her problem would be solved

Oh, she so hated to exist in a world of reality.

“And, according to devoted and dearest Edmund,” The teacher’s voice dripped with sarcasm, and it didn’t sound nearly as attractive as Edmund’s sarcasm did, “you were the one who asked to be sent such uncouth correspondence.”

Well, what was she to do now? Throw Edmund under the bus and keep him safe, or tell the truth and secure expulsion?

She couldn’t do either of that. She would protect Edmund and she would make sure her parents did not have to feel the shame of a child expelled from school.

What excuse could she give...

“I’m a writer.” Y/N said suddenly, before glancing down at the letter again- as soon as Ms. Potts lost focus on it, she’d grab it back. “I asked a friend of mine to help me with certain- salacious parts of the novel I’m working.”

Ms. Potts gave her a look, “Are you planning to become the female D. H. Lawrence, Ms. L/N? Need I remind you, most of his books were banned because of their- their inappropriate content.”

“And now he’s one of the most famous writers of the century.” Y/N pointed out. “I- I think that counts as a win.”

Ms. Potts rolled her eyes, “Would you like me to take this letter to the Headmistress? Perhaps she’ll motivate you with suspension to show her the photograph-”

“No!” She burst out again, shifting her weight from one leg to another, that was how nervous she was. She kept teetering-tottering. Edmund’s photograph would ensure expulsion.

Oh, why was this happening!? Wasn’t it bad enough that she’d had to wake up early for breakfast- even earlier than usual, because her dorm-mate had pulled the curtains back to let in the rare sunshine!? Waking up was awful enough!

“No- please, Ms. Potts, I don’t- I’m so- I’m sorry. I- promise that- that I won’t ask for such-” loving, “vile letters anymore. Please, I’m so very sorry, ma’am-”

“Alright, child. Calm yourself.” She sighed. Generally, she would have taken the student and the letter to the Headmistress, for its contents were that questionable- but she had a soft heart when she hadn’t had her morning coffee. And- well, she knew the girl was having a hard time with her parents so far away, and- and, between the inappropriate things, she could read the love that seeped out from every word. Edmund truly loved Y/N, despite the disgusting things he did to her and she did to him. “No supper for you for the rest of the week, L/N. Your suppertime will be devoted to extra prep time, and you’ll have two slices of toast and a glass of water before you head to bed.”

“Okay.”

At least it wasn’t expulsion- and she’d just spend the prep time daydreaming about Edmund. About the food, though- she usually was very hungry at dinner, but she’d have to make do.

“Thank you so much, ma’am- and, again, I- I am so- so sorry.”

“Hmph.” She made a sound to acknowledge the apology, and then held out the letter. “I’ll be reading the rest of your letters from this Edmund from now on.”

She nodded quickly.

“Now go put it somewhere private, I will come check in five-” after she had her coffee, “and for the Lord’s sake, get to class on time!”

She nodded again, grabbing the letter and the envelope, before running straight to her thankfully empty dormitory.

She had intended on locking the door, undressing- at least part-way- and then fingering herself until she came, while looking at Edmund’s photograph and/or reading his letter.

Y/N still wanted to do that, she thought, as she sank onto her bed. She wanted to do it even more, in fact, because now she had his letter, and she was reading all the beautifully dirty things Edmund wanted her to do to him or wanted to do to her- but she would refrain. Her sex was throbbing and her mouth was dry, but Ms. Potts would be up any second, and if she walked in on her masturbating- well, there would be no hope for her at ALL then.

For once, she would have self-control when it came to Edmund.

“Oh, darling.” She said, falling back on the bed and letting out a very long sigh. She wanted to go back to sleep. “Our fucking has fucked things up.”

--

Two months later:

“Yes, fuck, ah-ah, yes-” Y/N moaned, one of her hands gripping the bark of the tree she was pressed up against, while the other fisted itself firmly into Edmund’s hair, pushing his head further between her thighs.

They were in a clearing in the woods behind school- not too far in that they’d get lost, and yet not too near the entrance that they’d be seen by someone from her school. It was parents’ weekend- and, in place of her parents, Edmund had come to visit. Ms. Potts had enquired if she would be alone the weekend, and Y/N had lied that her uncle and aunt would be coming to take her for the two days- and the moment that Ms. Potts had turned around, she’d grabbed her little case and run outside. Thankfully, in all the crowd of cars and people outside the school, no one had noticed that the person she was hugging was a boy her own age, or that the hug was decidedly not platonic.

After they’d escaped the school, Y/N had said something that they couldn’t enjoy themselves in a pool- sand then Edmund had completed her sentence by saying that at least they could have some pretty good fun in the woods.

Edmund had taken up a paper route the last few months, and had done some odd jobs around the neighbourhood- and Y/N had made some money by tutoring some first-years, too. She’d begun the tutoring as a way to lessen Potts’s suspicion- but it had had a monetary advantage, too. Pooling their money together, they’d managed to afford one night at a nearby bed-and-breakfast, and they had both been so excited, Edmund had got on the wrong train- he’d realised just before it had started- and Y/N had buttered her hair, instead of her toast.

Edmund dug his fingers into her leg that was thrown over his shoulders, his tongue licking a path along her sex, and he felt a deep tightening in the pit of his stomach. He was already pleasured and sated- the moment he had arrived at the school gate, and had seen her run towards him, after which she’d thrown her arms around him, he’d been utterly content. He was even more so now. He had missed her so much.

He reached up blindly- but he was so familiar with her body, that he found her bare breast at the first try, cupping it hard as he began to suck at her clit.

“Come on, Y/n/N. Say my name.” Edmund grinned wolfishly, as a muffled sigh left her lips. “Moan if you missed me, darling.”

And she did.

This was exactly- exactly- what she needed. What both of them did. What they’d needed and wanted for so long. How utterly she had missed him.

And, considering that they’d only had sex for about ten days back in August, it was truly astonishing how well he knew her body. He really was a fast learner.

He knew it so well that she just could not keep her mouth shut, though she knew she couldn’t be too loud, “Fuck, Edmund-”

Then his fingers joined, too, inching closer to her clit, making her gasp and shiver and doubling the building ecstasy.

Needless to say, it took hardly a couple of minutes for Y/N to reach her zenith, her body relaxing as she came.

“No, no, no.” She said, a moment after her breathing eased- Edmund was looking around for their long-discarded shirts, his suspenders (which looked even sexier than usual, perhaps because she was seeing him for the first time in months), and her skirt.

Her boyfriend looked at her inquiringly- good Heavens, he was licking his lips, she might orgasm just looking at that.

She pulled her knickers up and debated on putting on her bra- she was trying to wear them more often, despite how much she disliked them, because she’d heard a sixth-former whisper in the pool that wearing bras helped with back pain.

And she had a lot of back pain.

But she decided against it. A few more minutes wouldn’t make her back hurt even more.

“Come a little closer?”

Edmund obeyed, but still looked blank. He was perfectly content to just look at her- after months of just letters, most of which had been censored and sanitised after a point- he just wanted to gaze at her.

“Why, Y/n/N?” He asked, and was answered by Y/N kneeling, pulling his trousers down, and wrapping her mouth around him in one fluid moment. He started violently, quite staggered by the action, and drew a sharp gasp of a breath. “G-give a fellow some warning, darling.”

“As though you didn’t know-” She pulled away from his cock for just a moment to smile at him- going down on her had hardened him, which meant he was already close, “that I wouldn’t let you go without returning the favour. It’s been too long, love.”

“I- forgot.” His lashes fluttered, his breath coming in short bursts as she started to take him in her mouth again, her head bobbing up and down between his legs. “S- ach, Y/n/N-” she sped up the work of her tongue- harder, faster- and he had to bite down on his bottom lip to hold back a moan, “silly me.”

She sucked for a few, slow moments- not enough to make him come, but enough to make him tremble and moan her name- and she could feel herself throb again, because it wasn’t inside her mouth that she needed him.

But she’d contentedly settle for this for the moment- it was Edmund, she liked doing almost everything with him.

Carefully, she pulled her mouth away from him- and asked softly, “Do you like this, my love? Do you like my mouth around you, as I kneel for you? As I put my tongue on your cock?”

Before he could reply, she bent forward again and trailed her lips all over his length, sometimes darting her tongue out to lick a freckle or sensitive spot- and then began to suck once more.

Minutes later, as the birds chirped in the trees, they lay on the warm grass. They held hands as Edmund slid inside Y/N, into the togetherness and oneness they’d had too little of and they had missed for months.

The sun scattered through the canopy of trees, falling onto their bodies, which flushed and naked and tight together. Their lips were pressed together, too.

And when they came together, they whispered both I love you and I missed you.

After that, lying naked on the warm grass and in each other’s arms, they made fun of other people- specifically, teachers- and teased each other- both verbal and sexual, and bantered, all interspersed with a lot of kissing. There was a small picnic basket lying a few feet from them, as well.

It was going to be an amazing weekend.

----

Thank you for reading!

And requests are CLOSED. I have end semester exams in a week, and what have I been doing? Nothing that will help me pass and everything that will make me fail!

[stardew-requests]

Can I get headcanons for the Bachelors and a pregnant farmer? ((Or a link to a post that you've made about the same thing that I really feel like you've made that I still can't remember))

Nothing makes my heart happier than the Stardew bachelors as dads! Thanks for the request Anon!

This one's long post! I put it under the cut!

Alex: In some regard, he still views himself as a teenager, so upon learning that the farmer was pregnant he had a moment of panic. Okay, it was more than just a moment. "What are we going to do? My grandma's going to be so disappointed!" He'd say, pacing back a forth. The farmer would just shake their head. "Alex, we're married. I don't think it'll be much of a scandal". It took some time to really register that he was going to be a father, but when it finally clicked a few weeks in, he begins to get excited. He takes initiative on prepping the nursery and goes above and beyond with helping on the farm. At his core, he's determined to be that father he never had; the one that every kid deserves.

Elliott: He is extremely attentive, almost excessively. Every need, every craving, every appointment or exam, he's there without hesitation. The farmer never has to doubt whether or not he'll be there, because he was fully involved from the moment they told him they were expecting. It had always been a dream of his to be a father, and it had finally come to fruition. So he was there for every moment of the pregnancy, good and bad. And the moment he held that baby for the first time? No painting or song or any piece of art was ever as beautiful as that moment.

Harvey: Being a doctor, Harvey was completely ready, medically speaking. However, no amount of medical school or field work could've prepared him for the intense emotions that overcame him the moment he found out he was going to be a father. Pure joy flooded over him, but also crippling worry. What if he panicked during the delivery? What if something went wrong? How could he live with himself if something did go wrong and he wasn't able to help? The farmer, while worried to a lesser degree, became the rock he needed to be both an attentive doctor and a caring husband. And, of course, he excelled at both. 

Sam: Poor Sam didn't see this one coming. The pregnancy was a surprise, and the farmer was overjoyed, but Sam had no idea how to react at first. Of course he was ecstatic; he'd often daydream of being a father. Taking care of Vincent all those years had given him a real paternal touch. But he was also nervous. What would his mom say? Would his dad be disappointed in him? Would he grow apart from his friends? The situation took some getting used to, but after he overcame the initial shock he let the excitement take over. He went to every single checkup with the farmer and bought LOADS of baby things to prepare the nursery. And you believe he absolutely spoils that baby. 

Sebastian: In his younger years, Sebastian fully believed he never wanted to be a father. He didn't think he was cut out for it. But after meeting the farmer, the idea began to grow on him. He liked the idea of being a stay-at-home dad on the farm. So when the farmer told him the news, he immediately knew he was ready to fall right into the role. Not having his own dad around (and the coldness he received from Demetrius all his life) made him dead-set on being the most attentive and loving man he could be. For both the baby and the farmer.

Shane: Shane had convinced himself that he'd never get that chance to be a father, with the exception of Jas of course, and he'd come to terms with that long ago. It was only after recovery and the blooming relationship with the farmer that he dared to imagine the possibility of a child of his own. When the time came that the farmer told him of their pregnancy, they were worried that he wouldn't react well. Though he'd come a long way in his recovery, he was still fragile. But the farmer wouldn't have guessed that he'd bury his head in his hands and become choked up. "Shane?" They'd ask carefully, worried he was going to break down. But he just shakes his head, looks up at the farmer, and says "I'm so happy".

[fandomnerd9602]

So Easy

Wanda Maximoff x Male Reader

For @lifespectator and @aloneodi

It’s not like she meant for this to happen. You were so loving and kind, especially to Billy and Tommy. And for young widow, Wanda Maximoff, that was what made you so appealing.

You were a babysitter/ big brother mentor. Billy and Tommy had lost their father at a very young age and it seemed that they were yearning for someone to help guide them.

You were more than happy to become that mentor for them. You’d play soccer with Tommy and then create poetry with Billy. You’d run laps with one boy and help draw pictures with the other. They were practically begging their mom for you to be their babysitter whenever she needed a night out with her best friend and neighbor Agatha.

Every time Wanda saw you playing with her boys, it made her heart flutter. Every time you made the boys or even Wanda giggle, it made her fall that much more in love with you.

And then it all came to a head one night after you had gotten the boys off to sleep before Wanda got home. She walked you to the door, thanking you for your help.

“It was nothing Mrs. Maximoff” you smiled at the young mother. “Billy and Tommy are simply the best.”

Without even thinking, Wanda leaned in and kissed you, “okay bye I love you”

You were absolutely frozen. Shocked but pleasantly shocked. Wanda, meanwhile, went red in the face with embarrassment.

“I’m so sorry” she managed to say as she slammed the door in your face and sunk against the wooden door.

You, on the other hand, walked away with the goofiest smile on your face.

Wanda practically called Agatha about the whole thing. Her friend almost died laughing at hearing Wanda’s little story.

“Scandalous” Agatha answered back, “you got it bad for your boys’ sitter”

Wanda couldn’t stop herself from blushing. It had been so long since she had been in love. So long since she allowed herself to feel that kind of joy. How was it so easy for her to fall for you?

Didn’t take long for Wanda to try and invite you over for dinner. Just a little meal to straighten things over. The boys practically tackled you as you walked thru the door.

They told you about their day at school. And yes you were paying attention to them but your heart was drawn to the young widow preparing the meal for all of you.

You walked into the kitchen as Wanda was slaving away at a hot stove.

“Will you at least let me help if we’re not gonna talk about last night?” You joked as you aided Wanda with the meal prep.

The two of you worked in tandem, soon, dinner was in the oven and you had a few minutes to talk.

Wanda bites her lip in worry as she looks at you, “I-I don’t know what came over me. I’ve never felt this way for anyone in a long time”

“I understand”

“It’s not like I was trying to throw myself at you” Wanda lets out a nervous laugh, “it’s just that everything’s so easy when I’m with you.”

You take a step towards her. Her nimble fingers play with one another out of a nervous little habit.

“I like being with you and my boys” she tries to say, “they’re everything to me and I’m so glad that they have someone like you and…and…”

You take her cheek in your hand, caressing her porcelain face. Your eyes wander to her Ruby red lips. Her eyes dart to yours.

Like metal to a magnetic, you two launch at each other. Wanda holds you tight as your arms wrap around her waist. You kiss her lips with all the passion you thought you buried deep down. Out of pure instinct one of her legs wraps around your waist as you gently push her against the fridge.

“I love you” you whisper against her lips. “I’ve loved you for so long”

“Same here…detka” her voice drips with that little nickname.

You share slow loving kisses as her hands massage your scalp. Her touch, the very thing you’ve craved, satisfies your very soul.

“Wanda?”

“Mmm?”

“I think the oven’s about to go off” you warn as the smell of something slightly burnt fills the air. Wanda giggles as you and her pull away.

“To be continued” she giggles before giving you one last kiss.

[rubyreduji]

Apple of My Eye — xmh

summary: minghao’s arrival to auradon changes your life as you know it, and not just because he’s the son of the woman who poisoned your mother

tags: fluff, descendants au, child of snow white reader, reader is shorter than minghao wc: 2.4k an: happy birthday mika @toruro :333 i love you so much pls enjoy bc i think i rewrote this maybe 7 times no joke an 2: this fic takes place in the same universe as “good to be bad” which features gyu, wonu, and child of hades reader. you don’t really have to read it to read this one, but it would be cool if you did!

From the moment you were born, it was made clear that you were always going to be second. Whether in your parents’ eyes or the citizens or even other kids. Nothing you could do would amount to your brother.

Joshua was athletic, charismatic, handsome, the future King of Charmington. Every kid in Auradon was drawn to him. You were just the little sister.

Joshua could never do wrong, or at least your parents thought so. You on the other hand, had everything about you nitpicked. You had to be the perfect daughter so you could one day find a suitor for you to marry. That led to long days of you in lessons about etiquette while Joshua would run around the castle with Seungcheol and Seokmin, not caring about what kind of disturbances they caused. At the time it didn’t bother you, you wanted to do anything to please your parents.

After you started school, it was hard for you to make friends, and eventually you just gave up, submitting to being the outcast of the class. It didn’t help that your brother would go around and pick on you to all of his friends just for a few laughs.

Years went by and you were still doing your best just to be a good daughter. In class you were still an outcast, with people either whispering behind your back or scoffing at you when you walked past. It wasn’t until you started to attend Auradon Prep that you realized how useless it all was. 

No matter how prim and proper and perfect you are, you’ll never be anything in anyone’s eyes as long as Joshua is alive. You think about all those years you tried to make everyone happy, to be the best you could be, only for it to amount to nothing.

Maybe that’s why you were so drawn to Minghao. His subtle kindness and gruff but charming presence. It makes you laugh to know that if you told the little girl you used to be that later in life she’s going to fall in love with the son of her parents’ sworn enemy, she’d probably cry.

Right now though, you’re completely sure you’d follow Minghao to the end of the world. 

When you were little, your parents used to sit in your living room in front of the fireplace and tell you and Joshua the great story of their love. You’ve heard it a million times, not just from your parents but also your seven uncles.

When the proclamation was made that the villain kids would be coming to Auradon, your parents were scandalized. When they found out that one of them was the child of the Evil Queen, they were outraged. They were fearful for what would happen to you and (mostly) Joshua. 

They told you to steer clear of any of the VKs as their parents will have raised them to be just like them. That they will be cruel and ill-mannered and up to no good. That nothing could come off the isle without it being tainted by the evil kept within.

When you were little, you were always told that the Evil Queen is a jealous old woman and vile of heart. Though that may be the case, you’re not sure you should view her son as the same. Not everyone is their parents. When you think about the first time you and Minghao met, you know there’s no doubt about it.

You were walking down the hallway when you caught sight of him a few feet ahead of you. You recognized him from the press release about the proclamation. Minghao, son of the Evil Queen. Your eyes were drawn to his dark blue hair and thick leather jacket. You were completely stopped in your tracks, too entranced by the deep scowl on his face. Unfortunately because you stopped walking, you were easily run over.

“Get out of the way,” the person growled as they shoved you, causing you to drop your books.

“S-sorry,” you squeaked out. You bent down to pick up your books, only to hear a new voice.

“Why don’t you watch where you’re walking?” You looked up to see Minghao looming over the person who ran into you. They cowered away. “No need to be a dick. Pick the fucking books up.”

They nodded and scrambled to grab your books, hastily passing them back to you before they ran off. You stared down at the book before redirecting your gaze to the tall boy in front of you. You bowed to him.

“Thank you. You didn’t have to do that, I’m uh…used to it,” you trailed off at the end, unsure of why you were explaining that to him.

He also looked slightly uncomfortable at the fact. Or maybe it was because you bowed to him. “You didn’t do anything wrong. No reason to pick on innocent people.” With that he stalked off and your sudden interest in him ignited tenfold.

Ever since that day you and Minghao kept having small run-ins. Almost like fate was pulling you two together. Before you knew it you two were spending all your time together. You were easily captured by his outlook on the world. You’ve never met someone so fair and level headed as Minghao. You’ve learned so much from him.

You finally had a friend. He helped you discover who you really are, and he did everything in his power to protect you. Slowly your friendship developed into more until you found yourself with butterflies in your stomach every time he talked to you.

You remember the day he finally made the first move. You weren’t even sure that Minghao liked you like that until you were sitting in his dorm, helping him with his math homework, when he leaned over and kissed you. You swear your heart nearly jumped out of your chest. After that things were a little clunky, but you two figured it out. 

Dating Minghao opened up a whole new realm of possibilities. You feel strong with him. You feel like you can do anything. Maybe that’s why you put so much faith in him when he comes to you with his plan.

“Snowflake,” Minghao starts, his nickname for you still flustering you slightly, “I need you to trust me, okay?”

“Hao…what’s this about?” You two are sitting in his dorm room, sitting on his bed. He asked you earlier if you would meet him, as there was something important he needed to talk to you about.

There’s a grim look on Minghao’s face as he looks at you. He struggles with his words for a moment before finding what he wants to say. “You know I care about you a lot and that I would do anything to make you happy and protected.”

Minghao stops for a moment and you nod at him. He takes another deep breath.

“You and I, we don’t belong here. Nobody here will ever respect us or any of the other VKs, and something needs to be done about it. I want to do something about it.” There’s a fire in Minghao’s words as he talks. “Everything that I’ve seen and heard and experienced since I stepped foot in Auradon is bullshit and it was fine when it was just me, but they way they treat you as well? It’s unacceptable.”

“Hao,” you interject, “just tell me what you’re talking about. I promise, I trust you more than anyone else.”

Minghao reaches forward and grabs your hands in his. He squeezes tight. “They need to be taught a lesson. Nothing will change if we don’t make the change.” You squeeze his hands back, encouraging him to continue. “I’ve been talking with some of the other VKs…we’re thinking about overthrowing the crown.” You suck in a breath. “I know it’s a lot and that it’s a risk but-”

You cut Minghao off, letting go of his hands to cup his face. You lean in and kiss him gently. When you pull away you rest your forehead against his. “I trust you Hao, and I will stand by you through anything. If this is the path you decide to take, I’m right here with you.”

“Are you sure? Your parents and-”

“No one has ever treated me the way you do. You’re the best thing to happen to me, Minghao.”

“I love you,” Minghao whispers, just loud enough to hear. Your heart does a skip.

“I love you too,” you tell him back, the first time either of you have said it. “I believe what you’re doing is what has to be done.”

You think of every wrongdoing of the citizens of Auradon, about how unfair they have been all these years. You think about the new world you can make. You know this is the right choice.

Minghao wants you to stay out of the planning process, as to not incriminate you in case anything happens. That unfortunately leaves you with quite a bit of free time on your hands. You’re walking back to your dorm from the library when you’re suddenly stopped by someone grabbing you. You yelp in surprise as you’re whipped around to come face to face with your brother. 

Joshua grips onto your arm tightly and you try to break free but he just holds on tighter. If you’re being honest you’re shocked he’s even interacting with you, as he gave up on that years ago.

“I don’t know what you’re doing, but you need to stop,” Joshua hisses. 

“Joshua, let me go!”

“I know you’re up to something with the son of the Evil Queen. Do you know what Mom and Dad would think if they found out? If you keep it up you’re going to get in trouble, either with him, or them.”

“You’re hurting me!”

“Well maybe you should listen.”

“She said let go.” Joshua’s grip loosens slightly at the intrusion and you’re able to break free. 

You and your brother both look to the side to see Minghao standing there. Though Joshua and Minghao are the same height, it seems like Minghao looms over him. There’s a dark look on his face as he glares daggers into your brother. Relief washes over you at the sight of your boyfriend coming to your rescue.

“You,” Joshua hisses. “Stay away from my little sister.”

“No, I think you should stay away.” Minghao steps forward, subtly putting his body between yours and Joshua’s. 

“I don’t know who you think you are, but I know that you’re no good. If you hurt her I swear I’ll-”

“It seems like you’re the only one here who’s hurt her.” Minghao gestures to where you’re rubbing your arm from where Joshua gripped you too tight. “You’re selfish and pathetic. You don’t really care about her and you never have, don’t try to act all high and mighty now.”

“Just wait, you’re going to get it,” Joshua growls before stalking off.

Minghao doesn’t bother responding, instead he turns towards you. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, but I need you to do something for me.”

“Anything.”

“Hurry up with the plans, okay?” You stare up and Minghao and he just nods, ready to set the world on fire for you if he has to.

“Are you scared?” You ask Minghao as you two lay in your bed one night. Your roommate is visiting her parents and you take the opportunity to spend the night with your boyfriend without having to worry about Jun on the other side of the room.

“Petrified,” Minghao whispers. “But you can’t tell anyone.”

“I promise,” you giggle, pressing a soft peck to his cheek.

“I’m scared, but then I think about you and why I’m doing this to begin with, and I know everything will work out.”

“Everyone says you’re so scary,” you tell him, “but I think you’re just a giant sap.”

“Only for you, Snowflake.”

“I really hope this works,” you whisper, changing the tone of the conversation.

“It will. I’ll make sure of it, even if it’s the last thing I do.”

“It won’t be. We’re going to change the world and then you and I will be able to live in peace.”

“We’ll have our happily ever after?” There's a teasing grin on Minghao’s face and you roll your eyes playfully.

“Yes. We will.” Minghao just giggles and leans in to kiss you. You kiss him back, putting all of your unsaid words behind it. 

Minghao has changed your life, and you could never repay him for what he’s done for you, what he’s going to do for you. You know you don’t have to pay him back though, because loving him is enough. You don’t want to think about what your life would have become if Minghao didn’t come to Auradon. When you were little your parents told you about fate and how the right people will always come into your life. Laying here with Minghao, you think they may have gotten at least one thing right.

“Are you ready?” Minghao asks as he reaches down to hold your hand tight. You nod and squeeze his hand back.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

The two of you stand outside of the Museum of Cultural History, about to enact your plan to change the rest of your lives.

“You’ll be able to go back after this,” Minghao tells you. You look up at him and smile.

“Good.”

Around you stands the other VKs, and for some reason the son of Hercules, Mingyu (you’ll have plenty of time to question that later). The sight warms your heart. You don’t think you’ve ever felt more safe with a group of people before. A few months ago you never had friends, and now here you are, ready to change the world with a group of villain kids. Your parents would have a heart attack if they could see you now.

“Whatever happens,” Minghao tells you, “I love you.”

You pull him down for a final kiss before you enter the museum. “I love you too.”

You take a moment to just stare at him. His soft blue hair falling over his eyes as he’s wrapped up in his jacket. He looks just like he did the first day you met him, yet everything has changed so much. You smile when you think about how you wouldn’t want to have it any other way.

No one has ever loved you as much as Minghao has. Not your parents or your brother or anyone else. Minghao is willing to risk everything, just make you happy. You will always be his number one priority. The thought makes your heart swell, and you know there will never be someone who means as much to as you as Minghao does.

“Okay,” you tell him, “let’s do this.”

Minghao nods and signals to the others and just like that you’re all in action. Your heart beats hard in your chest as you follow behind Minghao, ready for him to lead you to whatever good thing is next to come.

taglist: @ckline35 @jeanjacketjesus @namjoonbaby @n4mj00nvq @lovelyhan @ovai @scorpiobitch88 @im-gemmy @lllucere @tulipgarland4 @embrace-themagic @sulkygyu @leejihoonownsmyheart @synthetickitsune @yeosayang @miraclewoozi @d0nghyck @soonhoonietrash @violetvoo @yongi-lee @spilled-coffee-cup @morklee02 @17kwans @candidupped @ressonancee @m1nghaos @1-800-jeonwonwoo @anothershorthuman @chwecardcaptor @dinoissupreme @speaknowlwt @hyneyedfiz @aaniag @shamayyyy @moonwalker-witchgrrrl @nidda13 @walkingtravesty97 @jwnghyuns @flwrshwa @valentxi @heavenly-mobo @pandorashbox @enhacolor @starlight-night0 @todorokiskitten @miriamxsworld @just-here-to-read-01 @seuomo @tinkerbell460

[mayadoesfandomstuff]

You know, say what you will about Persona 5, but as an Asian kid from a shitty prep school in Asia that was filled with rumors and scandals, where most students avoided me because I not only had a reputation but also a constant problem with authority, I felt so represented by Shujin Academy's rancid prep school vibes and awful treatment of the protagonist 👍

They even had an obsession with volleyball, a creepy teacher hitting on 11th graders, and a drug dealing problem!

[sceletaflores]

GIRL FIRST SON PATRICK??? OMFG #NEEDTHAT

aurrrr this is all the west wings fault <///3

maybe you're a senator’s daughter, maybe the speaker of the house's daughter, or or OR maybe you're the vp’s daughter...hear me out okay just walk with me real quick...

president zweig is a close friend of your mother. they went to law school together, they both went on to become very prominent and well respected political figures in new hampshire, they're both credited with drafting the bill responsible for dropping your states poverty rate below eight percent. the lowest in the country.

no one was surprised when the zweig campaign announced your mother as their vice-presidential running mate. no one was surprised when president zweig won the election 303 to 232.

despite your parents being friends, you and patrick weren't that close growing up. he was older than you, six years older. by the time you were freshly enrolled in one of new hampshire's fancy private schools, he was already at the academy. all the way down in florida, a whole twenty two hours away.

you haven't seen each other since his father won the election two years ago, when the two of you awkwardly waltzed together at the inaugural ball after some encouraging from your parents.

now, today is the president's birthday and the white house was hosting his party. it’s the the first time you've been home in nearly two months, you've been spending so much time in new york prepping to start your third year at yale in six weeks.

you haven't seen patrick all day, not even at the dinner held earlier in the day for close friends and family of the president. you weren't entirely shocked that he was missing though. your mom makes sure to dish on all the scandals he's gotten into over the last two years. spreading the hot gossip to you over the phone nearly every time she calls you, but it's nothing you didn't already know.

patrick's face is plastered to trashy "news" websites and magazines almost every week. the media is more than happy report on all the alleged partying, drug use, and girls the first son seems to frequently indulge in. his tennis hardly gets any coverage these days.

you feel bad for patrick, but not bad enough to stopping read about him.

your nursing your second flute of champagne when you feel it. the presence of someone looming behind you, of a pair of eyes zeroing in on you.

"there you are," a deep voice rings out from behind you, along with the sharp click of dress shoes making their way closer to you on the marble floor. "i've been looking for you."

your dress swishes as you turn to face him, the fabric floating around your ankles delicately.

"patrick," you start to greet with a polite smile, but whatever else you were planning on saying gets caught in your throat at the sight of him.

two years doesn't sound like a long time. it's not really a long time, in the grand scheme of things, but goddamn has patrick changed a lot.

he lost all the boyish looks he had before. he grew into his big ears and lanky build. now he's all broad shoulders and toned muscle that you see even through his tailored deep blue suit.

the pictures plastered to the front of magazines do not do him justice. he's fucking hot now. he has the same green eyes and the same curly hair, but there's a depth and intensity to him now, a magnetism that draws you in. the sharp lines of his jaw, his bearded jaw, the way his suit fits him perfectly, the way a faint hint of a smirk plays on his lips.

everything about him exudes a sort of cocky confidence that has heat stirring in your core.

"professor," he nods, bringing his glass to his lips for slow sip of the amber liquid filling it. whiskey, you can smell it. "god, how long has it been? " he asks, slipping his hand in the pocket of his fitted dress pants.

butterflies erupt in your stomach at the old nickname, no one's called you that in years. your own mother doesn't even call you that anymore. you can't believe he remembered. at least all the coke didn't fry his brain.

"two years," you supply helpfully, trying your best to keep your voice steady.

"wow," he drawls, taking a small step towards you. he smells good, like something sharp and lightly spiced. it burns your nose in a good way, not the same way his old abercrombie cologne did. "you're like," he pauses, trailing his eyes over your face, "a grown up now."

you're flustered by the way he's looking at you, warmth rushes to your cheeks embarrassingly. "so are you," you manage to reply, though it comes out a bit breathless. you take a sip of your champagne, trying to be casual. the bubbles tickle your tongue, a faint distraction from the intensity of patrick's presence.

he nods slowly, taking another sip of his whiskey. you watch the way his throat moves as he swallows, the overwhelming urge to trace your tongue along his skin burns hot inside your stomach.

his eyes lazily scan you body, shamelessly getting his greedy fill of the way your dior dress sits pretty on the curves that weren't there the last time he saw you.

he swallows. “you look good,” he says to your tits, pink tongue sliding across his bottom lip enticingly. he flicks his attention up to your face, his eyes dark and predatory, “really fuckin’ good.”

heat floods your whole body, you fight the urge to shift under his heavy gaze. no, you tell yourself strictly, i refuse to be one of those girls.

you're nothing like all the actress/singers/models that bend and break the second patrick looks at them. you're a student on the dean's list at fucking yale, you were your high schools valedictorian, you're–

fifteen minutes later you’re in the white house’s green room with your dress hiked up around your hips and your panties tucked safely away in the breast pocket of patrick’s suit.

he has you perched on top the room’s large oak desk, legs spread obscenely wide to make room for his broad shoulders. a huge, gaudy portrait of alexander hamilton gets a front row seat to patrick zweig on his knees.

your hands twist his dark curls roughly as he practically makes out with your drenched pussy, bumping his nose against your clit each time he laps at you with the flat of his tongue. you can see the way your wetness decorates his face, the light from the chandelier shining off of the slick skin of his cheeks and jaw lewdly.

his beard scratches the inside of your thighs red and raw. his big hands dig into the soft skin of your hips hard, grinding you against his face.

"fuck," he groans, sliding his index finger through the mess of spit he left behind. "god this fucking pussy..." he trails off, holding you apart with his long fingers so he can drag his tongue up your fluttering slit all the way to your pulsing clit. his cherry red lips look fucking filthy wrapped around you as he pushes his finger inside your aching hole.

you bite your lip, trying your best to be quite, to stop the pathetic whiny sounds you're making. you can hear the muffled polite conversation and soft music bleeding through the other side of the wall. you know patrick didn't lock the door, anyone could walk in.

"please," you whine quietly, looking down to find that patrick's already looking at you. his blown out green eyes locked on you like you're an unsuspecting lamb grazing a little too close to the big bad wolf's den.

"please what? keep going? what about everyone out there," he jerks his head in the direction of the ball room, his finger fucks into you faster. "you want the president to find you fucking begging for his sons mouth on your greedy pussy? i bet you do, you fucking slut."

"fuck, please don't stop! god, patrick–"

he leaves with your panties in his pocket. whatever, you'll just have to get them back from him later.

[lynmars79]

About Imelda Goldfinch

Looking back over episodes, transcripts, and the wiki as a friend experiences Midst for the first time, I keep coming back to Imelda.

She "mistook" Weepe for the Mayor of Stationary Hill when they bumped into one another (literally) in S1 E5 "Missions". She spends the rest of S1 pester-courting Weepe into the Trust, starts him at Zero, and then grants him enough Valor to become Upper Trust for the Cabaret betrayal. She makes sure he gets off Midst in the Consector's flagship.

In S2 she continues her Weepe project, showing him around the city, introducing him to people, accompanying him to Upper Trust meetings. And then the Arca, S2 E13 "Inside." Where she uses her zealousness to torment Weepe until he (outwardly) acquiesces to her.

She knew about his condition, and his medical treatment. In detail. Cameras aren't that advanced in this cosmos, and Weepe keeps that knowledge quite secret; Saskia knew after four years as Weepe's business partner, and being noted as perceptive. When and how did Imelda find out, enough to gauge a normal day's risk (if not enough to know what happens when Weepe gets excited/stressed)?

In S3 she is front and center at the naming of Weepe as Tripotentiary. She automatically becomes his Archauditor, a minimal show made of having to create the position and choice to fill it over brunch. She attends high end meetings like the dinner with Kozma, where Imelda makes interesting notes on her menu (per the appendices) about what Weepe does and doesn't like, among her other notes and reactions.

Then we get to S3 E9 "Baron."

And I have to wonder: Did Imelda "mistake" Weepe in S1 when they met? Was she there not just because of the Breach investigation and/or Moon sale, but for him? Does she know, or at least suspect, who Weepe was before his first Fold-induced transformation and the salvation from the Mothers?

Imelda is a character that fascinates me, and is a bit frightening when thinking about her. She gives some of the same vibes as HP's Dolores Umbridge, but with the caveat that Imelda seems to be a True Believer in the Trust--while also being extremely driven and ambitious. We saw in her Notary prep school yearbook that she had Caenum as a girl (with the note "most likely to Break Even"). When we meet her, middle-aged, she's wearing a wide sash of Valor and regularly rubs shoulders with the Upper Trust.

It took Fuze Peabody his entire working life to Break Even by retirement (and given Lark's past, they start working rather young in the Trust; no child labor laws in the Highest Light I suppose, for those in debt). Most Trustees never reach Zero; it's why so many Breach.

And so much of Imelda's recent Valorous momentum has been due to her maneuvering of Weepe. Of the things she has done with, for, and to him.

Did she gun for Jonas Spahr being removed as Prime Consector? Was it convenient, or targeted? Disdain for the Company or just a way to maneuver Weepe into power? And why? Did she see the incompetence at the top and think it could be better? One of her menu notes is re-starting Valor checks for Upper Trust and other important meetings. Did the Fleit scandal make her think change was needed? Does she think Weepe can get her what she wants when the rest of the Upper Trust cannot?

What does she know? Why is she doing all this? Personal power? Grandiose zealotry? Revenge? A little of everything? Is Imelda the real mastermind and arch villain?

I dunno, and that last may be a bit silly (??) but something is going on with this woman, and she stands somewhere near the heart of this tangled web.

"He's totally fucked" the Narrators say of Weepe when he bumps into Imelda that first time. That's certainly been true in many ways--and I don't think it impossible that it will continue to be, with Weepe maybe not expecting the damage this scarily cheerful little lady with Pollyanna curls can still do to him before the end.

For the good of the Trust.

[mahi-does-some-art]

Mahiru Shirota's life is going to fall apart as soon as we get any, any new information about his mother.

With chapter 136, Lily reveals to Misono that Touma Taishi is Mahiru Shirota's biological father and it was the reason why Lily had planted Kuro in that alleyway to pick up. I am inclined to believe him because it adds up in the story as a whole; Why Kuro was there in the first place since we know he had been asleep under Alicein manor for the last 200 years.

Along with the fact that Hokaze (Misono's mom) was finally revealed to be a promiscuous woman who was a very active participant in the cheating scandal, I cannot believe that Akira was in no way involved in this plot to resurrect the Count Saint Germaine. Akira may not be on the side that wants to bring him back but she was a part of it no less, we just do not know how yet. (I am figuratively biting my nails waiting to see the ball drop for her)

She was very aware of vampires, magic and mages, this is a fact not because we know that she herself is a mage, we do not know that much, but because of Tooru. He attended the same high school/prep school that Misono does that has direct ties to C3 recruitment and we know he's been involved with Touma since his days there and they fought/killed vampires since then. Along with the Shirota family no doubt being a mage family, Akira was not at all oblivious to this.

I do not, however, think that her sleeping with Touma and creating Mahiru was any plot nudged by any Servamp or like. Why?

Because Lily had genuinely believed that Touma would come to Mahiru's aid in a life-or-death situation that would have otherwise killed him, and was rather shocked when Touma tried to kill him on his own. At least according to what he told Misono. (I believe most of what he's telling Misono except that he doesn't actually care about Misono. I think he's trying to made Misono mad at him beyond reconciliation for Reasons because he's a fucking coward who, if loved properly, won't be able to go through with his and Mikuni's plans)

Anyways, the reason I say Mahiru's entire world will fall apart instead of his views of his mother is because of one specific instance in the manga; Tooru thanking Mahiru for saving Touma. Not for saving Tsurugi like Mahiru probably thinks he was saying, Touma. Because Lily's plan included Touma dying because he was so close to figuring out how they were going to revive the Count.

If Touma HAD died, the good guys wouldn't know what would be happening. Tsubaki, Envy pair and Lily would have been completely clear to start the ritual while completely blindsiding everyone opposed ON TOP of starting the ritual a day early. They'd have been a lot less prepared than they are right now. Touma was a huge danger to the ritual's success.

Tooru knows this. He knows whats happening. Yes, he's also just relieved his childhood friend and coworker isn't dead thanks to his nephew but that isn't the only reason.

Why would Tooru leave Mahiru alone with Tsubaki in the restaurant they went to? Why would Tooru pretend Kuro was a burglar when he saw him chilling in the apartment and then so quickly drop the fact that there supposedly was a burglar in the house, all when we know he must have known who Kuro was the moment he saw him. Even if this was early manga and we did not yet know he was an elite of C3!

Mahiru's entire world is going to fall apart not only because he'll learn his mother is not the woman he thought she was, but because he'll learn he's been betrayed by his uncle in a way far greater than him leaving him alone and lonely for months at a time.

Tooru knows. And has made sure Mahiru didn't under the naive guise of protecting him.

[panthera-tigris-venenata]

Personal rant ahead✨

okay, so. I'm not sure anyone's reading, but I'm writing this. Maybe putting it in words will help, you know?

I've had a fucking terrible time lately, there's no denying it – I'm not even sure how long it went on. For sure, the last half a year–

Guys, I didn't think I'd survive it.

I'm not lying. God, I'm not lying.

Looking back, I'm not sure how I did survive it, but I did. Somehow. I just kept going. (Till Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes; till Nona the Ninth translation; till Rise of Red; till The Umbrella Academy 4). I fucking kept going even though I was fucking exhausted.

I ended up in the emergency two times, with a panic attack that had me sure I was dying.

I ended up in the psychiatric emergency two times, too, when the emergency personel said taking me to the hospital wouldn't help.

I asked my roommate to send me photos of chemical reactions and formulas to the emergency psych ward. I broke down bad enough to end up there and it continued: two two Exams the next day, final labs and test the next, another exam three days after and two days after that and chemical engineering with about seven hours of prep time. I did these on sedatives that didn't even take away all of the anxiety.

On the weekend then, I crashed at my friend's, completely crashed. I was afraid to stay alone. I was so out of it I was sure i'd die if alone.

(If you're reading this, thank you. Really.)

This doesn't need to be coherent, right?

I've been struggling with food too. Namely, eating enough.

(I tell you, one of the days I ended in emergency: for breakfast, I got half of a pastry, some cottage cheese and handful of cherry tomatoes - that doesn't sound too bad, but it was only half because I was supposed to eat it for dinner the day before. For lunch, well, I decided I'd go swimming, physical activity is supposed to help, right, maybe I'd buy something at the pool? (Spoiler allert, I didn't). I bought one (1) slice of pizza at the subway when getting home from the psych clinic.)

Fun time, right?

With a track record like this, I've managed to lose five kg (about ten pounds?). Problem with this, of course, is that that was a tenth of my total weight.

I'm better now, almost back at my original weight, but sometimes, my brain still screams at me that the food is poisonous.

You know, I've got a pretty strong catalogue of venoms and poisons and alimentary ilnesses. The toxicology and microbiology courses didn't really help. God, I freaked out over soup one time, I was sure it was full of botulotoxin. (It was not. Botulotoxin is termolabile.) (I cried over this for hours anyway and I'm not sure I'll eat that soup again.)

But, you know. I'm trying.

I'm trying.

I got some meds, but - the first ones - it was bad. It was so bad. It was supposed to help, but first, it got worse. I could do nothing but cry for four days, I remember I felt nothing but terror.

It was only a bit better when I went to a summercamp as a councilor- nothing much to say about the camp. But, there was a storm, we were waiting it out outside under an altan with the girls who slept in tents - god, we were all scared. I kept telling fairytales for an hour and then more at curfew for the little ones, I almost lost my voice. (There was a boy with us, about fifteen, helping counsilor. He slowly inched closer as I was telling the fairytales, it was cute.)

Still, the girls were crying, I'm not surprised, the storm was bad, and then there was some scandal among the younger kids about some video, and more people cried. In the end, at least ten people cried. I didn't break down only because I took xanax in between.

I'm not sure if I want to say anything more; I've said enough already.

There's a new school year soon and I'm scared.

[bouncybongfairy]

Halloween Night

Evil Morty x Bimbo Reader (BOTH READER AND EVIL MORTY ARE 18-YEAR-OLD SENIORS IN HIGH SCHOOL.) I'm surprised there aren't more Morty x Reader Fan Fics out there. Rick and Morty came out when I was 12, so Morty was one of my first crushes lol.

Summary: Morty and you have been together for about 8 months. You picked out a sexy alien costume hoping to impress Morty with how amazing you look. When you show him after weeks of waiting for it to arrive, he explains it may be a bit too scandalous before even complimenting you. This frustrates you because, as a cheerleader, the costume isn't more revealing than your uniform. You try to make him jealous at the prep rally and end up talking things out at the Halloween party you both show up at.

Word Count: 2.0k+

Part 2 is now posted!!!

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

When you got home from school, you were thrilled that your Halloween costume had finally come in the mail. Tomorrow was the 31st so you were cutting it close, not to mention you’ve been excited to show Morty. You two have been dating for 8 months and even though it doesn’t seem like a long time, it sure did feel like it. This was your first Halloween as a couple and you were both excited to spend it together. You let your backpack plop down on the carpet and sit on your bed. Using your eyebrow razor you rip open the green costume. It was a leather skirt, a matching tube top, silver gloves, and thigh highs. Once you put it on you fell in love with it, and you felt really confident. You FaceTimed Morty, setting your phone on your vanity and waiting for him to pick up. When he answered he was lying in his bed. You could tell his room was dark because of the lighting. You backed away from the phone so he could see the entire costume. The reason you chose an alien costume was for Morty, you figured he would be excited and flattered that you were thinking of him. Not to mention practically everyone in the school knew that Morty was always around aliens and intergalactic shenanigans. 

“Well?” you asked when he didn’t say anything. 

“It’s really hot, are you wearing that to Tricia’s party?” he asked, sounding a little less than entertained. 

“Um.. yeah? Is there something wrong?” you asked, confused as to why his energy was so negative. 

“I don’t know, don’t you think it’s kinda revealing,” he asked and your face dropped. 

“I don’t think it’s that much more revealing than my cheer uniform, and I wear that all the time,” you said, sitting on the office chair next to your desk. 

“Don’t play dumb though y-you know that costume shows quite a bit off,” he said. 

“What the fuck, I’m not playing dumb. Obviously, I know it’s a hot outfit. I'm just saying that it’s not worse than my cheerleading uniform and I wear that to school and football games. So why would this bother you?” you asked. 

“Fine, whatever if you want to go out with your tits and ass out that’s fine, I’ll just have to bring a gun.” he sighed. 

“Oh no don’t even worry about that, you can just stay home and play with the gun in your pants. I think imma just be with my girls tomorrow night. It’s so fucking crazy that it not only took me a week to pick this out for you but also waited weeks to show you how it looked. Do you realize you didn’t give me a single compliment since I’ve shown you? I respect your opinions but why do you have to be such a douche about it like honestly,” you said hanging up the call. You were feeling pretty beside yourself, you were so excited to spend Halloween together and it was like that was flushed down the toilet. You change out of your costume and lay out everything you need for tomorrow’s Halloween prep rally. After you finish up some homework, you head to bed even though you are feeling quite restless.  

The next morning you woke up feeling more optimistic about today. Morty sent you a good morning text which made you angry. You were expecting an apology not him trying to sweep shit under the rug. You woke up early in order to have time to shower and shave, not to mention you’d have to blow dry your hair after. The hot water was making you more sleepy than you felt while you were in bed. You scrubbed your scalp with shampoo, enjoying the hot water as you rinsed the suds out. You shaved your legs and exfoliated your body, you hopped out of the shower once the hot steam was making you feel faint. You sat at your vanity and began blow drying your hair. When you looked up, you saw all the polaroids of you and Morty taped to the sides of your vanity. It wasn’t like you guys were broken up or anything, clearly he wasn’t mad at you. It just seemed kind of hypocritical for him to judge you on showing too much skin because always said he liked that about you. You bump the ends of your long blonde hair and then start your make-up. You always wore a lot of make-up; big lashes, bright pink blush, lip gloss, ect. It didn’t matter if it looked cakey at times to you, obviously, it’s not going to look as good during 8th period as it did when you first got to school. 

After your hair and make-up was done, you put on your cheer uniform. You were going to Tricia’s house right after school to help her get things ready for her party. As you packed your costume you couldn’t ignore how upset you were about Morty today. You spotted Tricia and a couple of your friends sitting in the quad. After greeting and showering each other with compliments, you explained to them what happened with Morty last night. You showed them a picture of you in the green costume and they all reassured you that it wasn’t too sluty. 

“Did you guys break up for real this time?” Tricia asked, rubbing your shoulder. 

“No, he texted me good morning but that was it. I don’t know, I kinda feel like I overreacted. I was really looking forward to spending tonight together but I just feel like he was being disrespectful, all of a sudden he doesn’t want me to dress how I always have just because we’re together,” you said. 

“At the rally, you should really go full-out, you know like to make him jealous,” Tricia suggested. 

“Do you think he’s still coming to the party?” you asked the group. 

“Unless you specifically told him that you weren’t going, I'm sure he’ll be there,” one girl said. 

For the rest of the day, you thought about what she said. It seemed silly to be trying to make him jealous when that was what caused the argument in the first place. You mostly feel like his comments were out of line and you didn’t want to really piss him off, just toy him around a little. The day went by quickly, all the teachers figured that most students wouldn’t be paying attention today. You could see the anticipation building among your peers. Halloween only lands on a Friday every 7 years and everyone was buzzing about that. The student body was slowly filling the gym, getting ready for the prep rally. All the cheerleaders were in a separate room waiting to go on. Morty had texted you asking where you were going to be. You told him your usual spot and showed Tricia. 

“This is even more of a reason to go full out,” she said.

“I would go full out regardless of if I had a boyfriend or not,” you said. 

After waiting for 15 more minutes it was time for the team to perform. It was easy to pick Morty out of the crowd, and you would be lying if you said you weren’t happy to see him. He was smiling at you and it made you feel bad for leaving him. Your coach made a routine using Nicki Minaj’s Monster Verse. It was nice having a couch that was younger and understood the new generation of cheer better. You were feeling amazing, They made the lighting in the gym red which gave it a really cool vibe. Normally prep rallies really sucked and nobody ever really engages. Today being Halloween and Friday everyone was more willing to be involved. Chanting and volunteering for the little games and events. Morty was at the bottom of the bleachers, which made you eye level to each other. You could see that he was taking pictures of you which made you roll your eyes. The crowd and music were so loud as you were performing, that all you could focus on was him. He looked so cute and the fact that he was smiling the entire time was warming your heart. After you were done performing, the school was dismissed. Technically there was still half of the last period left but nobody went back to class. As you walked out of the gym, Morty greeted you. 

“Did you think I was showing off too much at the rally?” you asked sarcastically to make a point. 

“I thought you looked hot, look I didn’t mean to offend you for real. You’re my girlfriend of course. I don't like sharing your body with other people’s eyes. I should have told you how good you looked beforehand,” he admitted, grabbing your hand and walking by your side. 

“I appreciate you for looking at things from my point of view. Sorry for not texting you back this morning,” you said, giving him a kiss on his cheek. 

“It’s okay I figured you were pissed,” he said laughing. 

“I have to go, a couple of girls and I are going to Tricia’s house to get ready for her party,” you said.

“Come to my house and get ready, you have all your stuff in your duffle right?” he asked.

“Yeah but I don’t know I promised her,” you sighed. 

“I’ll stop for food on the way,” he said trying to convince you; it worked. 

Morty had been driving his dad’s car around for a while. The two of them got into a huge blowout over his dad not keeping a job. Morty was doing a paid internship for a chemistry teacher at the local college. Long story short Morty had to take over the payments of the car. Morty was about to take you home after hanging out after school and his dad said no because he hadn’t taken out the trash for the past two days. Morty blew up at him, he looked his dad dead in the eye and told him he was the new man of the house. Ridiculed him for not having income and then having the audacity to take away something Morty paid for.  You had never seen Morty so mad, his face was bright red and his eyes were wild. You would never admit this but something is different about Morty for the past couple of months. Ever since his internship, he’s been on a short fuse and a God complex. You summed it up to him becoming more confident in himself and how could you be mad at that? When he took you home he drove so fast yet controlled that it scared you a bit. 

Once you went through the Burger King drive-thru you made it back to his house. You were pretty sure Beth didn’t like you because every time you came into the house she never acknowledged you. He pulled you upstairs and into his room, he always had his LED lights set to red and it always smells like stale pot/tobacco smoke. His closet door was a mirror so you laid out a towel and started recurring your hair and re-doing your make-up. After throwing his backpack into the corner of the room, he walked over to his stereo and played Pumpkins Scream In the Dead of Night at full volume. He then plopped down on his bed and started packing a bowl into his slightly dirty bong. You were picking your french fries in between teasing certain parts of your hair. Morty walked over and stood directly above you and blew a huge bong rip down on you. 

“Ugh! Boo-Boo don’t do that you know I don’t like that,” you said trying to waft some of the smoke out of your face. In response, he playfully humped the back of your head causing you to fall back a little. This made him laugh so hard that you couldn’t help but join him. 

“Are you dressing up?” you asked him. 

“No, I’m just going to sell while I’m there,” he said, referring to Tricia’s party.

“Only weed right?” you asked. 

“I promised you nothing else right?” he asked rhetorically. 

“I’m just making sure,” you said, spraying your hair with a final layer of hair spray.

When you were finally finished, you took your clothes off and changed into your costume. When you turned around, Morty was rolling a blunt that wasn’t what surprised you. It was the huge sack of weed on his bed, seriously as big as your ass. You questioned whether it was safe to be taking all that but he assured you it would be secure in the car and of course, the fact that he carried it. The two of you took some selfies in the mirror before leaving. He of course made sure to compliment how good you looked which made you roll your eyes. Once you got to the party Tricia was a little sad that you didn’t come to get ready with all the girls but was happy to see you and Morty had worked things out. Normally you don’t smoke at all but after two shots, the idea of a blunt was rather intriguing. Morty was sitting in the arm of the chair and you were leaning back, pressed against him. The entire house was encased in smoke, it was like no matter where you went you couldn’t get a breath of oxygen. Morty walk talking with one of his buddies who were laughing and fucking around. You were holding a solo cup that was filled with cherry vodka sour, it was staining your lips a bright red. The only thing you had eaten all day was the Burger King after school so the weed and alcohol were hitting you heavily. You could tell Morty noticed because he was holding on to your waist as if you were going to lose balance. You turned around so that you were facing him, his eyes were red, the same as yours. He pulled you close and asked if you were doing okay. 

“I wish we could go trick -hiccup- or treating like we used to,” you said giggling. 

“Yeah, I miss when things were simple,” he said, giving you a kiss on the cheek. 

“I know I’m fucked up but have you been like… okay lately? You seem darker,” you drunkenly try to explain. 

“I’m just becoming more aware of the bullshit around me. I’m fine, you’re fine; we’re fine,” he reassured you. 

“I’m sorry I blew up at you last night, I’m having a really good time with you,” you said, giving him a peck on the lips. 

“I love you,” he blurted out 

“I love you too,” you said almost as fast as he said it. This was the first time you’d ever said I love you to each other. Even though you were both a little cross-faded, it still felt so personal and special. After about another hour you head back to his house and well… ya know if ya know. 

[blysse-and-blunder]

in lieu of a quiet sunday night

sunday, 11pm, September 22, 2024 ~ cider close to hand, both alcoholic and non; hozier playing in the background; evidently it's the first day of fall

reading since i skipped doing one of these last week, both of my reading picks tonight are actually from a little while ago. both were so, so compelling, but for different reasons. one an award-winning piece of twentieth-century canadian literature set in 1970s india, the other a scandalous semi-autobiographical account of drinking, dating, and divorce in roaring twenties new york.

i think that drew me into both of these first was their dialogue-- both authors are so good at writing distinctly unique, distinctly not-what-i-usually-hear character dialogue, without it sounding at all affected. i got the feeling that both authors were working from life, describing societies they knew inside and out, and had observed intimately. so much detail about the, like, material and sensory details of these two different settings-- what everyone wore out to dinner in the twenties, and what they were eating and drinking; what shopping for a chicken or going to the doctor was like in mid-seventies bombay, what school was like, how people were discussing the government... beyond that, these two feel so dissimilar that comparing them is going to do a disservice to both. though i guess both have, at different points in their histories, been the subject of some scandal. listening shout out to my 'for you' playlist last week, which was one hit after another-- but opened with this, and introduced me to rachel chinouriri! whose sound i really like. that first slow build up to the guitar bursting in? got my attention immediately. the lyrics to this one are, admittedly, wild to be singing while trying to write job apps, but it's melancholy in enough of an upbeat way that it almost feels calming?

No point in trying to prove yourself to them Why question who you are from deep within? No matter what, your youth is gonna end My god it’s sinking in There’s no point in anything

the whole album goes down so smooth, and is rewarding repeat listens. i love her voice. i love how late i am to discovering her, since she's opening for sabrina carpenter now apparently.

watching no shogun time this week, but the gang and i sat down to experience the first episode of a new series, which i cannot stop thinking about. imagine like. australian broadchurch, but only one of the main characters and all the victims are actually in a bleak crime drama, and every other character is doing like parks & rec. also it's extremely gay. and rude. and funny. favorite characters are dulcie, and sven the guy who keeps asking who he can delegate stuff to. also dulcie's wife, who i'm so worried about the world crushing somehow, she seems too optimistic to survive undamaged!

playing did i mention finishing act ii of pentiment? now that @blue--period is playing it, i realized i wanted to get further and be able to discuss. i was devastated by the end of act i, but the end of act ii feels... bleak in a way i wasn't expecting, at all. i'm already planning a second play-through using my other save file, since i failed a bunch of checks in act ii (a few i think based on the background i had chosen, aggravating since it was helpful in other ways) and no spoilers, but in other ways, i failed by succeeding. saving act iii for now, since i have a busy next couple of weeks. much love to caspar, my best boy.

making fallow week. check back soon for experiments with medieval ink making, though!! i have sourced ingredients, and parchment scraps, from kind friends and colleagues who won't ask me to pay for them, and will shortly be (i hope) benefiting from someone else's paper-making budget. stay tuned.

working on prepping for my students' quiz on thursday, and the following assignment due in early oct, by brainstorming what i want to ask them to do and then not actually writing the rubric or instructions. alternating with staring at the descriptions of various job openings and trying to pick up lots of detail about the hiring departments. wrote up a 2-page dissertation summary, which sucked. feeling more chill about the process than i thought, which is also because it doesn't feel like it's happening to me, exactly. writing sample and finalized cover letter this week?

[kanzakurawrites]

After really thinking about it, I have decided to headcanon that Auradon Prep is only for the royalty and the children from the big story heroes.

Because it does sound like most of the them are princes and princesses. Which, as we know, a lot of the animated films are princes and princesses. Especially as the disney princess films seem to have the most influence in the descendants universe, with some exceptions.

But then I can't help but wonder, where is the line drawn? The dwarf children are there, but then it sounds like Tiger Lily's daughter isn't.

Does this mean that the school is really, really exclusive? Since when you think about Peter Pan your mind probably doesn't go straight to Tiger Lily, but when it comes to Snow White the title is Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.

Were the kids given choices, or is it almost mandatory in expecting the children of the heroes to attend this school? Are there scholarship programs for other students to come?

And could this maybe be one reason why it was even more of a scandal to have the villain kids come over? As they'd be attending the most prestigious school in Auradon.

I just, I need to know the inner working of Auradon Prep.

[got7ent]

got7_isourname: 10 years with GOT7.

Time flies as people always say. It’s been 10 years since our debut and it’s been almost 13 years since I first got to Seoul Korea. From an athlete to entering the fields of music and getting trained professionally. From a kid, just starting his journey with curiosity to the man already walking 10 years down the road figuring out his artistry, and he still walking from no one recognizing & appreciating the artistry to having a crowd that supports and believes in you. Can’t say nothing but “I’m too blessed” to be able to receive. I really want to say thank you to “JYP“ entertainment, and all staff for casting me and giving me the opportunity back then. Also helping me to grow through training and it became a huge fundamental part of me today.

A coincident that happened back in school, when the casting team of “JYP” showed up and everyone in school left after exam. I was the one who stayed with a couple of friends that day when I should’ve went for fencing practice prepping for London, 2012. Well, I guess the casting team didn’t have much choice in that situation, but offer me the invitation to the audition. That’s how it happened… I want to thank HeeWon for always supporting me through my hard times and tolerating the immature me back then as a kid. I want to think Jimmy the CEO and J.Y. Park for guiding me through a seniors and as like parents in the industry.

I want to say thank you to my members, for being the partners in the battle. Being the brothers since trainee days from nothing to traveling and performing all around the world together. I believe each member is focusing on their artistry now and I hope nothing but the best for them. Really glad and happy that we are able to show each of our individual colors and character as artist now.

I want to thank everyone, from the bottom of my heart, to every person that supports the group. Our crowd & fans. I still remember the day of our debut showcase. We were all riding that auto electronic skateboard looking thing entering the venue during the intro of the show. It was around 50 people but it was definitely one of the most memorable shows I did.

I want to apologize for a fans for all the moments you worried. Sorry for the unpleasant moments and the negative experience that happened. I’m sorry that there were a lot of times, random and miscomprehend things like gossip, issues about the stabilities of the group, all sorts of noises and scandals that were out in the industry affecting everyone’s mood. Supports and fans deserve a good experience. I’m sorry for letting you all experience those kind of moment. There are a lot of precise memories from you all. I used to get a lot of “스니스니“ from you all. Now that I’m almost 30 in a couple of months, as I age, I don’t think anyone calls me that anymore. But the memory shows and pops up in my dream once or twice a year haha. Not gonna lie…

I love you all, the time you all spent with us was precious. I’ve always wanted to make our fandom and crowd proud, as a team, also as an individual. I assume a lot of you are already in different industries/working in different fields already. I hope everyone can be happy and healthy. I hope everyone is able to find their standard of happiness in life. That’s all that matters. I’m also looking forward to what’s next for us. Without all of you, we won’t be here today. None of this would happen without you all. Thank you I love you.

Seunie

[deusvervewrites]

Seiai Academy x UA University (and possibly just base Seiai Academy): due to the scandal, Nedzu is finally free to forced to change UA from a high school to a university, causing other schools to slowly become universities too.

Okay, so, if I combined these AUs, then it would go like UA University and Kumiko would attend a highschool and then go on to Seiai University.

But now I'm thinking about this in Seiai Main. The Hero Schools slowly transitioning to a college format gives a lot of interesting potential for school drama as the faculty prep all the things that need to change for it to be a college, and it means that the girls can graduate from Seiai Academy and go straight into Seiai University to continue their education!