#the social class he's referring to certainly isn't *his* class

[skyriderwednesday]

That doesn't narrow it down much Holmes, there were several French artists called Vernet.

I start to believe that 'art in the blood' is better known as Autism.

[mrsjellymunson]

The Biology Tutor | Extra Credits 02

Extra Credits 02: FRENCH

Series masterlist

Prev: Lesson 1: Female Anatomy | Lesson 2: Male Anatomy | Extra Credits 01: Communication Skills Next: Independent Study 01: Art | Independent Study 02: Creative Writing

Pairing: virgin!Eddie Munson x fem!tutor!reader

Series summary: Eddie’s failing Biology class, so you decide to offer two different styles of tuition, textbook-based and *ahem* practical.

Chapter summary: You give Eddie a French lesson.

WC: 2.9k

CW: 🔞 18+ MDNI! This part isn't explicit, but the rest of the series is, so MDNI!! Fluff, kissing, mentions of arousal.

A/N: This takes place between Extra Credit 1 and Lesson 3. It’s an added extra to The Biology Tutor series.

My masterlist

Despite your best efforts to keep things cool, you and Eddie’s relationship at school has shifted.

Eddie will greet you with a cheery, “Heeey, Princess”, whenever you pass in the corridors, and you’ll sometimes give him a cheeky wave in the lunchroom. You both flush a little whenever your eyes lock, thinking about all the intimate stuff you’ve done together over the past days and weeks.

Thankfully, as yet none of your friends have noticed the way you’ve started to giggle a little more loudly at Eddie’s antics on the lunch tables, or the way he shoots you cheeky glances to check that you’re watching. Each of your social groups would likely have something disparaging to say, and you’d prefer to avoid that kind of attention for the time being.

You’ve become even more aware of your physical proximity in Biology class. Even though you could probably reach out and touch each other (and you would really, really like to do that…) you try not to draw too much attention to yourselves.

You’re finding it hard to keep your focus on the front, knowing that Eddie’s sitting inches away behind you. But you revel in the fact that he’s there at all (and is, in all likelihood, checking out your ass).

At the end of class, Mr Clarke calls you over.

“I wanted to thank you for your efforts regarding the private tutoring. Mr Munson’s work has certainly improved since you began, as has his class attendance, which is remarkable in and of itself. And he seems to have become more enthusiastic about the human biology aspect of the syllabus too, which is… unexpected, but really good to see.”

He looks off to one side, momentarily bemused, but recovers quickly and continues,

“Nevertheless, there is a big test coming up which, as you know, makes up a sizable proportion of your grade. I would very much like to see Mr Munson do well. I was hoping that you might help him prepare, and in the hopes that you’d agree, I’ve already booked private study room 2C in the library specifically for this purpose.”

You know the library well, and the one he’s describing is a particularly quiet one, located at the back of the rarely-used reference section. If you can get Eddie to join you, it’ll be the first time you’ve ever been alone with him at school. You experience a frisson of excitement at the thought.

You readily agree, figuring that even if that wasn’t reason enough, getting further in the good graces of Mr Clarke wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing. However, you do think convincing Eddie to relinquish his entire lunchtime might be another matter entirely.

You approach him in the lunchroom, managing to get to him before his usual table fills up with nerds. He was initially aghast that you were anywhere near him, but once he realised nobody was really interested he listened to your proposal.

“You seriously do this shit voluntarily?” is his only response, until you mention, more quietly, how it would mean spending an entire hour in a small, isolated room. With you. Alone.

Suddenly, he’s all for it, packing up his stuff as you exit ahead of him. He extols the virtues of ‘accepting with grace the assistance the universe offers you’ to the smattering of confused Hellfire boys before hightailing it out of the hall, stuffing pretzels into his mouth as he goes.

You reach the study room first, and are already setting out books and pencils as Eddie barrels in. He practically skids to a halt, and ambles towards you, rubbing the back of his neck and trying to act nonchalant.

“Hey, Princess.”

He plops his bag onto the tabletop, and as he gestures to the empty seats next to you and across the table, he drops his voice to a lower timbre as he asks you,

“So, uh, where do you want me?”

Thanks to his mildly suggestive question, an image flashes across your mind of perching him, naked, on the edge of the table and climbing atop him, but you quickly shake it.

You tap your hand on the seat next to you, and he enthusiastically flops himself down in it. He sits up straight, clasping his hands in his lap, theatrically attentive.

As he’s already managed to fluster you, you decide to fluster him right back.

“You’re so good at doing what I tell you, Eddie. I like that.”

Eddie’s cheeks flush pink and he swallows hard. It worked.

It doesn't take long for you to go over the test questions. Eddie’s picked up more than he’d thought from the parts of your sessions where you’d actually studied, and he flies through most of it, only getting stuck on a couple of gnarly chemistry formulae. What’s more, he actually looks like he’s having fun, gaining genuine satisfaction from answering your questions correctly and beaming as you let him know,

“That’s it, Eddie! You’ve got it!”

You can’t tell whether it’s the academic achievement, or the broad smiles and encouragement that you’re giving him, that’s his biggest driver, but at this point you’ll take either as a win.

You've gradually started sitting closer as the session has gone on. You’ve scootched to the edges of your seats, and your elbows and knees are gently knocking together. You can feel Eddie’s breath on your cheek as he jabs at his test total on your pad, screwing up his face and making a fist with his other hand in triumph. You’re genuinely thrilled for him, and not just because the very idea that you could be the reason for those gorgeous dimples popping makes your tummy flip.

Checking your watch, you realise you have a few minutes left before you have to leave, and there’s another new ‘skill’ that you’ve been thinking about trying with him.

Once all your supplies are back in your bag, you check the time again before asking,

“Eddie, would you like to try another quick practical session?”

He looks around the room, eyebrows disappearing into his bangs.

“What, here? Now?”

“Yes, but not like our, um, previous sessions. Something less… involved.”

“Okay, but what is it?”

“Eddie, I hope you don’t mind me asking you this, but have you ever kissed anyone?”

He looks a little abashed as he answers,

“Umm, does kissing your relatives on the cheek count?”

You can’t help smiling at his cute admission.

“For the purposes of this discussion, I’m gonna say no.”

He looks self-conscious, maybe even a little ashamed. Staring at the edge of the table, he clears his throat before replying,

“Then, uh, no.”

Not wanting him to feel uncomfortable, you reassure him,

“That’s okay, Eddie. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

After a beat, you continue,

“Would you like to try it? With me?”

“What?”

“Would you like for us to kiss, Eddie?”

His eyes become locked on your mouth. He swallows audibly, eyes shining with want.

“Umm, yeah. Yes. Yes, I absolutely would, Princess.”

“Just so I know how far you want to go, would you like us to… French kiss?“

“You mean… W- with, y’know, tongue?”

“Yes, Eddie. That’s exactly what I mean.”

“Are you okay with that? I mean, you don’t have to…”

Shaking your head a little, you reassure him,

“I’m the one who suggested it, Eddie!”

He looks down at his hands, now clasped again as he rubs his thumbs together.

“Only if you’re sure. I might be awful at it.”

“Well, that’s why we practice, right? So, first of all, we need to get a little closer…”

You turn your seat so you’re facing him directly, encouraging him to do the same. You pull your seat forwards, slotting your knees between his. You see his eyes scanning your face, and his fingers fidget, suggesting he’s not really sure what to do with them.

“You can rest your hands on my legs if you’d like, Eddie.”

He does so, but not without a little trepidation, and you see him swallow again.

“Just relax. I’m not gonna bite you. Not this time, anyway.”

You give him what you hope is a cheeky smirk. He smiles shyly, not sure where to look when you’re this close to him. Nervously, he licks his lips. The sight makes your thighs clench.

“Close your eyes and relax, Eddie. I’m gonna start with a quick peck.”

“O- okaaaay.”

He does as you ask, and you spend a few moments appraising him before you lean into his space. He looks angelic, his wild curls framing his pretty face and his rosy pink lips looking soft and inviting.

You turn your head slightly so your nose will slide past his, close your eyes, and ever so slowly connect your lips with his. Pursing them a little, you press forwards, and you hear a slight intake of breath.

You said it was going to be quick, but you’re enjoying the feeling so much you relish in it for a few moments. Eddie’s lips are plump, warm, and just a little moist from where he’s licked them. A tiny amount of stubble tickles your top lip. He smells of old leather, some kind of spicy cologne and vanilla chapstick, with a hint of cigarettes and weed. It’s a heady scent you could easily get lost in.

Gathering yourself, you pull back, rolling your lips inwards to taste him.

Eddie still has his eyes closed. If you’re honest he looks like he’s about to faint. Even after all you’ve done together you’re still a little nervous, and you’re suddenly mortified that he found it repulsive.

You did remember to brush your teeth this morning, didn’t you? Did you eat garlic last night and forget? Do you have spinach in your teeth, even though you definitely haven’t eaten spinach in weeks??

“H- how was that, Eddie? Did you like it?”

Suddenly, his eyes pop open. His lips part a little and he nods his head quickly, causing his chestnut locks to bounce around his face. He stares at you for a few more moments before he manages to say in a tiny, cracking voice,

“More? Please?”

You smile widely, and lean in again.

This time you move a little, pursing and softening your lips, changing their position slightly to find out what he likes, slotting them in different places.

To your surprise, this time Eddie starts to kiss you back. His plump lips press against yours and the tiniest moan emanates from his chest. He’s tentative at first, but as he gains in confidence he presses a little harder, and moves a little more.

Your lips move in sync as you rhythmically purse and relax them.

Eddie exhales heavily, and more than a little shakily, through his nose, and you feel his warm breath dance across your face and décolletage.

You part from him with a subtle wet smack.

He swallows thickly, and the grip on your knees strengthens.

You smile at him again, and his eyes flick between yours as he mirrors your expression.

“Okay Eddie, if you’re ready, this time I’m gonna use my tongue. You don’t have to do anything, but if you want to, just do what feels good. Alright?”

Eddie gives you another tiny, fast nod, and you feel him squeeze your knees again.

“Are you ready?”

“Yeah, I’m ready…”

He surprises you again as he shifts his hands slightly and slides them up your thighs, leaning into your space a little further. They feel warm, strong, and you can’t help but imagine how they might feel elsewhere.

What would it be like to hold his hand properly? Would his hand feel warm as it cupped your face? Would you be able to feel his rings? How would his calloused fingers feel running up your back, or across your…?

You’re broken from your thoughts as he closes his eyes again, a slight curl to his lips as he lets you know he’s ready.

You lean into his space again, and connect your lips as before. This time, you part your lips slightly and allow the tip of your tongue to poke out, and ever so gently brush across his lower lip. You hear that sharp intake of breath again as he stills, unsure of what he’s supposed to do, but then he parts his lips ever so slightly, and you slide your tongue past his lips and pearly teeth and into his mouth. You move it slowly, enjoying the feeling of his lips against it, the scrape of his teeth, the softness of his tongue beneath yours.

He moans again, and just as your tongue curls up to tickle the roof of his mouth suddenly his tongue is moving against yours, slowly, reverently, experimentally, and another moan leaves his chest.

His grip on your thighs tightens as he gets bolder, eventually pushing his tongue past your lips and into your mouth.

Abruptly, he turns his head slightly and pushes in more deeply, his tongue almost filling you. He’s insistent yet gentle, and now it’s your turn to gasp - he’s good at this - and a low whine leaves you.

You feel a chill on your legs as Eddie’s hands leave them, and you’re momentarily disappointed, but this rapidly turns into delighted surprise when one comes up to cup the back of your neck, the other grabbing the edge of your chair and pulling you closer towards him. He’s moaning continually now, turning his head to try different angles, licking and curling and sucking like you’re the very air he needs to breathe.

He’s pushing hard but not too hard, and when your teeth knock it’s adorable rather than uncomfortable.

It’s wet and messy, and oh, so fucking hot.

Your hands start travelling almost of their own accord, slipping up inside his jacket, sliding around his rib cage and settling on his surprisingly muscular back.

His hand travels up to your hair, mussing it, and you’re making his shirt ride up, but you couldn’t care less, lost in the sensations of your lips melding and tongues dancing.

There’s a pulsing heat in your core, and a wetness building in your underwear. You don’t think you've ever been this turned on just from kissing.

And how on Earth is Eddie so good at it?

You eventually both pull back, needing air, breathy and inhaling deeply.

Your eyes dance around his face, wanting to take it all in. His plump, kiss-bitten lips, his blown pupils, the way he’s looking at you with a stunned half-smile.

Needing a break from the intensity, you drop your eyes. But almost wish you hadn’t when you spot the obvious bulge in the front of Eddie’s pants.

He’s clearly enjoyed this as much as you have.

Just as you’re both leaning forward for another round, lips just brushing, the harsh and loud ringing of the school bell indicates the start of afternoon classes.

You and Eddie break apart with a start, exchanging breathy smiles, both a little surprised at how well that went.

He chuckles as he lets go of your hair, tidying it as best he can, and you pull down the hem of his shirt to straighten it.

”So, uh, I think I’d consider that lesson a success. Wouldn’t you, Mr Munson?”

He huffs out a little giggle, shaking his head slowly. His brow furrows and he fixes his face into as serious an expression as he can manage, as he dips his chin and replies,

“Oh, Princess, that feels like a great start. But you know, lessons work with me. So, just to be on the safe side, I think I might need a whole lot, lot more practice...”

He’s holding your gaze and nodding, raising his eyebrows and pursing his lips for emphasis.

You nearly snort at his brazenness, constantly amazed at how he so easily flips between abject fear and bolshy confidence, and manage to squeak out,

“Well, we’ll just have to see what we can arrange, won’t we?”

He grins at you again, those dimples even deeper this time, and tidies one more strand of hair at your temple.

Reluctantly, you both gather your things and leave the study room, still with shiny lips and heat in your cheeks.

You walk leisurely, your upper arms brushing, through the racks of dusty tomes. Neither of you is in any particular hurry to get to your next class.

You glance to your side, and notice that Eddie seems bigger, taller. He’s puffing his chest and is carrying himself a little differently. You like it.

He turns to you as he asks, “D’you think we should, y’know, leave separately or whatever?”

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. Awkward questions, and all that.”

You see Eddie’s eyes glance to the floor, then flit to the section containing the large encyclopaedias and dictionaries, before he adds,

“You know what, you go first. There’s something I want to check out in the reference section anyway…”

He flashes you a wink as you round the door jamb, causing something to revolve in your chest as you step out into the corridor. You definitely want to offer Eddie plenty of opportunities to practice this particular new skill.

As you head off to your next class, you wonder what on earth he could be up to. But more than that, you wonder how he’ll react to what you have in mind for your next study session…

Series masterlist

Prev: Lesson 1: Female anatomy | Lesson 2: Male Anatomy | Extra Credits 01: Communication Skills Next: Independent Study 01: Art | Independent Study 02: Creative Writing

Thanks so much for reading!

Remember, writers thrive on your comments and reblogs, so if you liked this little extra please show some love 💕

A/N 2: I added this as an extra because I wanted Eddie and reader to share a special first kiss, but couldn’t work out how to fit it into the main Lessons without making them ridiculously long. I hope you like it!

The taglist for this series is open whilst it’s ongoing, and I have a general one now too - just let me know if you’d like to join either 😀 My masterlist, where you’ll find more Eddie and Steddie fics

Taglist (open whilst this series is ongoing): @airen256 @bimbobaggins69 @urlbitchin @jamdoughnutmagician @rustboxstarr @bl4ckt00thgr1n @bexreadstoomuch @cozmiccass @sadlittlesquish @yujyujj @cluz1babe @thunderg @aysheashea @paleidiot @cadence73 @eddie-munsons-wifey @siriuslysmoking @neville-is-my-husband @aestheticaltcow @jjmaybankswifes-blog @lightcommastix @ungracefularchimedes @spenciesprincess @joejoequinnquinn @freshoutthewomb2 @sunshinepeachx @tlclick73 @hellfirenacht @yourdailymemedelivery @wendyxox @madaboutmunson @80s-addict @the-unforgivenn @skrzydlak @eddiesxangel @bunny7232 @starksbabie

[hazel-of-sodor]

Imagine being an LMS express engine, back in the thirties, arguing with Gordon at Barrow, you blow your deep LMS whistle to try and assert dominance, but instead of the Gresley blowing his shrill inferior whistle in retaliation, he replies with a HOOTER of all things, defaming the stations. The rumor was true, the Gresley has a whistle that can out do even the deepest of deep-toned whistles. Never shoulda got transferred.

Well looks crack this one open shall we?

Lets get into the social dynamics and politics of the LMS, Barrow, and NWR.

So Gordon is top dog in Barrow, end of the story. While Barrow yard is far larger in this world than ours due to the existance of Sodor, its Industries, Harbors, and People, the largest Express Engines allocated there are usually 4-6-0s. Pacifics do venture down to Barrow, but heres the thing, hes their Elder.

Ask any Engine in Britian who the first (British) pacific was, they will invariably say Gordon (Neither The Great Bear nor Henry were largely successfull as 4-6-2s, and are seen as having found their true forms as 4-6-0s). Invariably class protoypes (successfull ones at least) are held in higher regard, but Gordon pionered the type. No matter He is former GNR/LNER and current NWR, Gordon is the first and is therefore the eldest. One could be forgiven for thinking that Gordon could have lost this respect in his younger years, but decourm in stations is the law for express engines (whisting in stations isn't wrong, but we just don't do it). Flagship express engines are the image of their railway, and are expected to uphold said image while in station. On the rare occasion LMS Pacifics did stay in Barrow longer than it took to refuel and prepare for their next run, they found Gordon a proud but gracious host, as was proper. (it helded that their opinion of him matched his own.)

The 4-6-0s, however were another matter. The Stanier 4-6-0s were content to tease their larger cousins about their hero worship, and keep a cordial relationship with North Western No.4. The Fowler's, however were...divided. The Patriots and Royal Scot's were aware of the threat of standardization. Stanier was not known to be sentimental man, and there were fears among some of the classes that they would be scrapped in favor of Stanier's standard engines (in reality a number of both class would be rebuilt to use Stanier Boilers.)

Some of these engines decided to deal with these fears by competeing feircly with their Stanier contemporaries, and for some this was not a friendly competition. These engines saw Gordon not as an honored elder or a respected collegue, but a part of the enemy. The incident this ask refers to occured in 1935, when a young Patriot class, newly assigned to Barrow decided to try and get a rise out of the Pacific. Gordon treated the younger express engine with all the restrained derision and posh superiority he felt the situation called for. Needless to say the Patriot only got angrier and angrier, leading to him trying to silence the North Western Engine with a long, rude, blast of their whistle, a dire breach of station etiquette.

Gordon intially waited impatiently for the whistle to stop, but when the 20 second mark was passed, he responded in kind. While Gordon only gave a short blast, the Patriot fell silent in shock as a Gordon's Pennslyvannia Railroad whistle thundered out. In the ringing silence afterwards, Gordon explained in manner simular to an exasperated parent correcting a toddler that one did not raise their whistle in stations unless they were departing or arriving, and they most certainly did not hold their whistle.

The LMS, throughly embarressed by their engines behavior, quickly reallocated the patriot to the other side of their territory (although they would return during the war.)

[deputyysoandso]

I'll be honest about the fact that I didn't like Barbarian—not because it was bad, I just didn't enjoy many of its choices.

But there were aspects I found interesting and obviously have been thinking about, so I can't say it wasn't effective. Mostly I've been thinking about how aspects remind me of Parasite.

Spoilers for both movies below.

Both movies deal with an imbalance of power (class disparity and gender disparity) and show how someone even well meaning and "nice" can abuse that power (the rich Park family is fairly polite and shown sympathetically, and Keith makes some well meaning but inappropriate remarks to Tess).

Both make use of literal different levels in homes to illustrate the descending nature of the characters. In Parasite, the Park family lives at the top in their mansion, the Kim family not quite underground in their half-basement and below them all is the man in the bunker. This is obviously a commentary on their place in society/the economy and how they are viewed in their roles.

In Barbarian the levels represent the men in the film. Keith is mostly fine, just slightly oblivious to how this situation is for Tess. And even once she seems to accept he's not a threat, he still dismisses her legitimate fear after she's seen the basement. She's clearly horrified but he refuses to accept that it's justified and it costs him his life and Tess her freedom.

Keith is the airbnb, the cute little house. Under it is AJ. he's the basement with the horrible room and bed and bucket. AJ is a rapist and therefore a monster in his own right, but in a way that's fairly socially acceptable. He can assault a woman but still feel convinced he's a good person, and rant to his friends about it because people will tolerate rapists like AJ.

The basement, which is terrible enough on its own, leads to the tunnels. The tunnels are Frank, the ultimate monster. A monster so terrible even AJ is disgusted. The monster underneath it all. All these men are represented by the different levels within the house.

The structure of the film in Barbarian mirrors this as well. It's very unusual for a film to introduce major characters so late, and it does this with both AJ and Frank. And I realized it's because it's introducing the men level by level.

At first we meet Keith, in act 1. He's fairly innocuous. The gateway man, if you will. He doesn't make it to act 2.

Act 2 introduces AJ, in his own story. We see him living his own personal nightmare (well deserved) before joining the central story. In act 3 were introduced to Frank. Again, we see his own story for a bit. We watch him shop, watch him stalk that woman. Here the story all ties together, on the final level with Frank. All of this has been his doing.

The final similarity I found is the name. On first viewing you might think the Kim family are the parasites, feeding off the Parks familys money. But maybe it's the other way around, and it's the Park family feeding off their labour. Maybe the Parasite is the guy in the bunker. Maybe not.

With Barbarian there's less debate, as by the end of the film we known for sure Frank is the barbarian (although honestly AJ kind of is too) but at first it may seem to refer to the woman in the tunnels. Certainly she seems monstrous at first, and is extremely violent. But by the end we understand she's just another victim of Frank. The real barbarian isn't a woman made into a monster it's the men who see women as commodities to use.

[sardinesandhumbugs]

Here’s another puzzle for you. What’s Mole’s social status supposed to be? Out of the main four he’s clearly the lowest on the totem pole and in the fifth chapter focusing on Mole End he’s described as a lower-middle class bloke having to save and “go without” and always hunting for bargains, etc. And paradoxically he somehow fancier clothes than Rat who is more well-off yet a velvet smoking jacket is out of his price range. Also what’s with Mole eclectic choice for in garden decor? A bust of Queen Victoria seems something any British bloke would have around, but having busts of “heroes of modern Italy” just seems out there.

So yeah, your first assessment is pretty much bang on! He is the poorest out of the main four (evidence being, yes, the comment about saving up, and his general reaction to the others' lifestyles).

The velvet smoking jacket isn't really an indicator of Mole having money so much as it is a joke/reference – mole fur is short and velvety, so what most analysis seems to conclude is that Grahame chose a "black velvet smoking-suit" as a nod to Mole's fur

A lot of adaptations give Mole a jacket, albeit often a bit tatty and second-hand, so I always assumed it's either old and/or inherited from a relative. Certainly, if it is smart and new, it seems strange that Mole would be doing spring cleaning in it!

Indeed, I've met plenty of people who use old good-quality clothes for gardening and the suchlike – because even if it's not Fancy Night Out worthy anymore, it's still usually too good to throw out and is plenty comfortable. So it's probably safe to assume it's not brand spanking new

(And Ratty is always so polite – he works to point out the good in Mole End, even if it's underground and dusty and small – that I can see him complimenting Mole's jacket, even if it is a bit tired and old and has a paint stain on the hem!)

As for Mole's garden decor... this Grahame's personal biases coming shining through. About 40yrs before he wrote witw, Grahame's town was visited by Garibaldi, and this presumably left quite an impact on Grahame, enough for him to include a reference in Mole's decor. Plus, Garibaldi was pretty famous at the time, and merchandise of him was pretty commonplace and cheap, so this is more a sign that Mole is keeping up with (then) modern times and buys the occasional knick-knack to brighten up his home

[boatzandhoez]

Caught My Eye

In which, Y/N is the queen bee of school, and quiet, nerdy boy, Harry, happens to catch her eye.

Warnings: bullying?…

A/N: This is my first post on Tumblr…hope you enjoy :)

(3.2k+ words)

Y/N taps her acrylic white French tip nails on the worn out wooden desk. Her chin rests in the palm of her hand. Her other hand is occupied with twirling a strand of her hair and tapping her nails.

She sighs, not paying any mind to the teacher in front of her going on about some war that happened. Y/N isn’t too sure if she’s being honest.

She sits, counting down the minutes on the digital clock above the door, waiting until she can leave her awfully boring class that happens right before lunch.

Y/N hears her phone vibrate on her desk. She glances over at the teacher, making sure the older man isn’t looking at her. She concludes that it’s safe to check her phone, seeing that her teacher is rambling on about whatever it is he is teaching.

She picks up her phone, a small smirk reaches her lips as she reads the text message in front of her. She bits the inside of her cheek, thinking of something to reply back.

Conner

you look hot in that outfit

Y/N

do I now?

Conner

yeah really fuckin hot

She’s not wearing anything special, just her school uniform, which consists of a soft grey short sleeve polo, with a blue crewneck overtop, a black pleated skirt, black tights, and Y/N paired her outfit with platform back and white vans.

That or she usually will wear a pair of loafers on the day she feels particularly inclined to dressing up a bit more, but today she wanted to dress down as much as possible while still wearing her uniform.

Y/N smiles down at her phone, rolling her eyes. She loves the little ego boost she is getting from the compliment, but she knows that Conner only is trying to get her to fuck him later on.

Y/N is used to this, boys doing whatever they can to gain her attention. Y/N is the most popular girl in school after all.

Y/N isn’t sure how she became popular, but growing up, people always gravitated towards her. Girls wanted to be her friend, boys wanted to be her boyfriend, and people were always fixated on what she was doing.

It also helps that Y/N is beautiful. She’s not beautiful in the way that is innocent, like the colors yellow, and baby pink. She’s beautiful in a seductive way, luring you in, and hooking you on her drug-like induced aura.

Another reason she’s popular is her personality. Y/N is very blunt, she speaks her mind, has no filter, and will destroy anyone who tries to get in her way.

She isn't mean though. She’s only mean when someone crosses her, or irritates her, or if she’s just in a bad mood, but honestly Y/N isn’t rude. She’s not the type of person to make fun of someone based on what they are wearing, or the status they hold. Now, Y/N can admit, she doesn’t go out of her way to talk to people socially below her, but she’s not a bitch to them either.

Y/N is what she likes to refer to, as a half mean girl. She’s not bitchy 24/7, but she certainly isn’t some bubbly nice popular girl that secretly hates her friends, and is a nerd at the core.

Y/N is confident, a seductress, she’s rich, has nice clothes, a nice car, a huge house to go home to everyday. She has lots of friends, but Josie, and Kate are her two favorites. She gets whatever she sets her mind to. She can be manipulative if it comes down to it.

Y/N is that bitch, and she’s well aware.

She chooses not to respond to Conner, instead, she shuts her phone off, and goes back to staring at the clock.

The minutes tick by slowly, Y/N begins to feel sleepy from the boring lecture. Like heaven singing in her ears, the bell rings.

Y/N wastes no time grabbing her Lululemon backpack, and flinging it over her shoulder. She enters the crowded hall, her head held high in the air, as she walks.

People part like the Red Sea to move out of her way. No one dares get in her way, which Y/N is very smug about. She loves the power she has over everybody.

“Hi, Y/N.” Kate, one of Y/N’s best friends walks up next to her, threading their arms together. “How are you?”

“Hi, Kate. I’m doing good.” Y/N replies with a soft smile.

“You’re not hung over from last night?” Kate furrows her brows, tilting an accusing head at Y/N.

Y/N returns the same expression, shaking her head. “No, I’m not. Should I be?”

“Oh, no, not at all.” Kate rushes out in one breath.

“Then why are you looking at me like that?” Y/N raises an accusing brow at her friend, which makes her squirm a little. One thing about Y/N is when she is serious, she is extremely intimidating.

“Oh, it’s nothing really, I promise, it’s just you know, we all drank so much last night. I have a small headache, and I thought you would too.”

“I can handle my alcohol Kate. I’m not Payton.” Y/N rolls her eyes, huffing. She hates Payton with a passion.

Payton is a girl that hangs around them, but is extremely annoying, and for the life of her cannot drink. She always blacks out ruining the fun for everyone, plus, she tries to hook up with all the guys Y/N talks.

That part doesn’t bother her that much, it truly is how much the girl tries to pry into Y/N’s life like she has some spot claimed in it.

Y/N sleeps around pretty often. She loves sex, it’s a lot of fun, plus an orgasm is one of her favorite remedies to distress. She mainly sleeps with guys on the football team because their stamina is insane from kicking balls all day.

She doesn't, however, go farther than that. She has never been interested in a guy past fucking them. A lot of the guys she fucks egos are too big for her to tolorate. She will either ignore them the next day, or if she thinks they are good enough, will tell them she only wants them for sex, and is willing to start a sort of fuck buddy relationship.

A real relationship with feelings, sweet talking, confessions of love, holding hands, giving innocent kisses, dreaming of the person, and so on and so forth is something Y/N has no desire for.

Or at least, that’s what she tells herself, but like most people who claim they aren’t into dating, there is a small part of her that does think about being with someone romantically, and her tummy flutters.

“Hey Peyton is a lightweight, give her a break.” Kate nudges Y/N in her side, giggling as Y/N rolls her eyes at her statement.

“Then she shouldn’t try and finish an entire bottle everytime we decide to drink, and get confused when everyone is annoyed with her the next day from all the shenanigans she put on through the night.” Y/N reasons, giving her friend a pointed look.

Kate simply shakes her head, and pulls Y/N closer to her body as they walk down the hall, making their way outside, towards the lunch table scattered around.

Y/N attends a prestigious private school. Any parents who have a lump sum of wealth send their kid there.

Uniforms are something Y/N has to wear everyday which annoys her because she has a serious addiction to shopping. She has so many clothes in her closet that she really only gets to wear and appreciate two days out of the whole week.

Y/N being popular however means she has a very lively social life, and it’s rare for her to not have anything to do during the weekdays.

Usually it’s either going to one of her friends' houses to hang, or going to the mall, or going out to eat. Sometimes it’s a small kickback, or a smoke sesh. No matter what, Y/N is booked and busy, so her clothes get some love, but not as much as she wants to give out.

Y/N shivers at the slight breeze blowing outside. Y/N sighs as she looks at the gray cloudy sky, a sight that she is used to looking at.

From a distance Y/N can see the group of people she subjects herself to hanging out with. Y/N doesn’t mind hanging out with them, but she isn’t excited to see the same faces everyday.

“Hey chica.” Conner whistles as the two girls approach the table. Conner taps the empty part of the bench next to him, gesturing for her to take a seat.

She gives him a knowing smirk, and struts to the spot taking a seat. As she sits she makes sure to brush her thigh against his.

“So…what’s the plan for tonight?” Kate asks as she slips next to Josie, who is bundled up in a big coat. Josie is anemic so she tends to get cold easier.

“Aren’t we going to the diner?” Josie asks as she shivers.

“Jesus Josie, I can hear you shivering from here, are you okay?” Y/N reaches her hand across the table, taking Josie’s ice cold one into her grip.

As her hand meets Josie’s cold skin, she nearly jumps from a hand gripping her thigh out of nowhere. She whips her head to the side, and narrows her eyes at Conner, who is looking back at her smugly.

“Easy.” She whispers under her breath, warning him. She doesn’t particularly hate the feeling of Conner’s big hand stroking her leg slowly, but she also isn’t in the mood to try and entertain any of his sexual advances.

“I’m okay.” Josie’s voice snaps Y/N’s attention back onto her. “I ran out of iron pills last night, and didn’t take one this morning. My blood sugar is just really low, but my brother is bringing me one right now actually.” She shrugs her shoulders.

Sometimes Y/N forget that Josie has a fraternal twin brother. They never hang out, and are in completely different crowds from what she knows. Liam Payne, her brother, hangs around people who are on the lower side of the social ladder, so she rarely talks to him.

That, and he just keeps to himself. When Y/N and Kate choose to hang out at Josie’s house, her brother is usually over at his own friend's house, or cooped up in his room playing video games.

Josie has expressed to Y/N that Liam isn’t a big fan of any of her friends anyways. She says he doesn’t understand how she could hang out with such shallow people.

He was smart enough to exclude Y/N and Kate from that statement because Y/N is anything but shallow.

Speaking of Liam, Y/N lifts her gaze, and sees him approaching their table. He has a group of people behind him. She recognizes everyone but one in the group.

Y/N doesn’t know why, but she can’t seem to tear her eyes away from the boy with curly hair, tucked under a beanie.

She has crossed paths with Zayn, Louis, and Niall. Multiple times at that, but the tall boy, who has his head down, picking at the sleeve of his sweater is someone she has never seen a day in her life.

Her tummy warms the longer she looks at him. She so desperately wants to catch his eyes to see what they look like.

“Josie.” Liam calls out, catching everyone’s attention. Josie turns her head over her shoulder, and smiles up at her brother as he reaches the table.

“Hi, Liam.” Josie greets her brother. His friends behind him all have their heads down, almost as if they were afraid to look up.

Y/N almost forgot that Conner’s hand was on her thigh until his fingers began to trail up her inner thigh, his fingertips brushing the edge of her thong.

Y/N doesn’t know why she didn't do it, usually she just lets it happen because no one else can see, and she loves getting riled up, but right now, his touch is annoying her more than anything.

She shoves his hand away completely, focusing all her attention back on Josie’s brother, well more so the boy behind him.

“Here.” Liam shoves a ziplock bag into Josie’s hands. “Mom put the actual bottle in your bathroom.”

“Harry Styles is that you?” Y/N hears Conner say from beside her. There is a certain tone to her voice that gives her a hint that Conner isn’t about to give whoever he is talking to a hard time.

The boy who Y/N had been staring at lifted his head. His wild green eyes lock with Y/N’s and her insides begin to swirl. She feels a current of electricity ripple down her body the longer he looks at her.

Holy fuck. Is all Y/N can think right now. Y/N is sure she’s never seen a more innocently beautiful person before until laying her eyes on him.

Medium plump heart shaped lips, bright red cheeks, a chiseled jaw, and hauntingly captivating eyes.

All of the features that belong to this so-called Harry, unknowingly tattoo themselves onto her brain, for her to never forget.

She wiggles in her seat, feeling all hot, and tingly from looking at him. She watches the gorgeous man in front of her swallow before shifting his eyes over to next to her where Conner is sat.

“Y-yeah, s’me.” Harry says softly. His voice is deep, and raspy. Y/N thinks it’s extremely attractive, and it only makes her stomach knot tighter.

“Still stumbling over your words like a bitch I see.” Conner laughs, reaching across the table to receive a fist bump from Michael, a guy who is on the football team with Conner.

Harry gulps, looking down at the ground ashamed. Y/N almost blurted out something in his defense, something along the lines of ‘no need to be such a dick, Conner’ or ‘fuck off Conner and go choke on something for talking to him in such a way’, but she doesn’t. Instead, she sits back quietly watching the scene in front of her unfold.

What, nothing to say now?” Conner taunts.

“Fuck off Conner, and leave him alone.” Zayn speaks up in his defense.

Conner scoffs, rolling his eyes. “I think gamer boy over here can speak for himself, can’t you Styles, or are you going to stumble over those words too?”

“Yeah Styles, are you going to s—s—speak for yourself?” Michael joins in on the teasing.

She doesn't know why, but she feels anger start to bubble deep inside of her. Usually when one of the boys picks on someone, she doesn’t pay any mind.

Like stated earlier, Y/N is no saint, she honestly is more of a sinner than anything. She never feels anything when Conner and his friends choose to be a dick to someone.

The fact that all she feels right now is red hot rage at Conner is choosing to be a dick to Harry out of all people scares her a bit because she doesn’t even know him.

Y/N isn’t cold hearted or anything, but she isn’t easy to catch the attention of. Guys try to butter her up all the time. They compliment her, do anything she says, they’ll pay for her nail sets, eyebrow waxing appointments, and other things. Y/N doesn’t need their money, but always accepts because free is still free at the end of the day, plus she loves the small power trip she feels knowing that people are so desperate to simply talk to her that they’ll do whatever it takes to make her happy.

The fact that a boy she has never seen before has caught her attention like this, to the point that she is feeling defensive over him is absurd, and needs to go away.

Y/N doesn’t like that this Harry guy is making her feel all weird inside, but what she doesn’t like even more than that is Conner being rude to Harry.

She almost says something, but decides in the end to sit quietly and let boys be boys, even though this isn’t something she thinks these boys should be doing.

“Hey, why don’t you fuck off and stop being a dick to him!” Niall says this time, getting ready to launch over the table for the sake of his friend.

“It’s fine really guys.” Harry scratches the back of his neck. She doesn’t know why, but his eyes drift back to hers for a split second before snapping back over to Conner. “Look we’re leaving, s-sorry to bother.”

Y/N hates how Harry is saying sorry when he didn’t do shit wrong. She hates how intimidated the boy seems around them. She wonders how long Conner and his friends have been picking on the green eyed beauty.

Harry’s friends all turn to leave on Harry’s queue, but Harry doesn’t turn around right away. He makes a last glance at Y/N. This time his eyes linger longer.

It gives Y/N enough time to flash Harry one of her signature smiles that captures any boy right in her trance. She wiggles her fingers discreetly at him.

Harry’s eyes widen, and he takes a big gulp before turning around quickly, and walking off far away from Y/N and her group of friends.

Harry hopes that he doesn’t have to encounter anyone at that table again. He felt humiliated while Conner and his friend were taking a piss at him. He doesn’t think he can face them, especially Y/N.

Harry is well aware that the most popular girl in school is. Everyone does. Y/N is talked about more in school than the material the students are learning.

He hadn’t expected to see one of his best mate’s sisters sitting with the one and only in the flesh. Sure Harry has seen her around, but never that close.

It made him feel nervous and hot all over. His ears were on fire the whole time from embarrassment.

He really does hope that he never has to face her again. He fears that she might make fun of him, which for some reason the idea of her out of all people taking a piss at him makes his stomach knot tightly.

It’s no secret that Y/N has a fiery side to her that isn’t afraid to snap when it’s necessary, and anyone in her line of fire will burn, and the aftermath of the burns are detrimental.

Yeah, Harry really doesn’t want to run into her again.

But little does Harry know, that this is far from the last time he’ll be seeing the queen bee. Harry doesn’t realize it yet, and neither does Y/N, but Harry has caught her eye, and now she’s hooked.

[fuh-saw-t]

I saw your post about neopronouns, so please explain: thou

(Btw, no need for this to be concise or anything. You just seem to really enjoy this subject so I wanted to give you an easy way to ramble. I love seeing people talk about the things they love!)

Where art thou, 'thou'?

All (bad) jokes aside, the linguistic timeline of 'thou'—or, more accurately, thou/thee/thy in the modern form of identifying pronouns—is one of my favorites I've ever looked into. I find it so fascinating. Thanks for the ask!

To best understand this, I think it'll be fun to make a timeline. So, here we go:

Old English

We're just getting started.

When modern speakers hear 'thou', we mainly associate it with religious texts or Shakespeare, which is understandable—the usage of 'thou' dates far back.

'Thou' was a singular pronoun, derived from Proto-Germanic, appearing as 'þu' (thu) in Old English (which, for the record, was over a thousand years ago—long before Shakespeare—and used between the years 450-1150). The fact that it was a singular pronoun is the important bit. Today, we see 'you' as being numerically ambiguous; we could be referring to a singular person, or many people, but in older forms of English the pronoun to refer to a singular person was for 'thou', leaving 'you' as a plural.

Middle English

Here come the French.

Then, as French continued to influence English, turning it to the much more readable Middle English (the language of Chaucer, for context), 'thou' was gradually pushed to the sidelines as the plural 'ye' and 'you' expanded to be used as a singular, too.

French's influence made the English 'you' the equivalent of the French 'vous': it is now formal—what you would use to address someone of high or equal social standing. In turn, 'thou' declined (in a process attributed to semantic derogation) to an informal pronoun used to address someone you were intimate with or, most notably, someone beneath you in the social rankings.

Early Modern English

Here's where things start to get bumpy.

In the mid-1600s, in comes George Fox who, in my words, would be described as a filthy prescriptivist. He was the founder of the Quakers, and a large part of early Quaker rhetoric was to avoid class distinction—something I could certainly get behind. Quaker speech, therefore, consciously avoided 'you', opting to use the more neutral thee/thou for everyone regardless of social standing. This extended to them sometimes getting into trouble for refusing to call judges 'your honour', and so forth. Thee/thou became associated with Quaker speech, and not many people liked the Quakers. However, this isn't the biggest impact on the usage—far from it, in fact.

The biggest reason, I believe, that 'thou' lost its popularity is because of developments in society—most notably travel and the industrial revolution, as well as the growing merchant class in the 17th century, which was when this pronoun really hit a decline. People stopped using 'thou' as often because it became harder to judge the class of whom you were speaking with. Social mobility disrupted the otherwise clear and stagnant order of British society. It would be a terrible insult to call someone above you 'thou' on accident, and so you would default to 'you'.

In fact, in Early and Late Modern English, 'thou' became an insult. Perhaps in one of the more surprising turns from something that was once a simple pronoun, to 'thou' someone (morphed into a verb) would insult them. As more people used the pronoun as a method of insulting others, it was favoured even less.

Rolling back to George Fox, a famous line of his goes as follows: "We were often beset and abused, and sometimes in danger of our lives for using these words to some proud men, who would say, 'What! You ill-bred clown, do you thou me?'"

-

From a simple, singular second-person pronoun, to a token of informality, to an insult, 'thou' has definitely had a ride. And, with its current association with religion, poetry, and the old classics, I earnestly hope it doesn't stop rolling.

[voidfragments]

hong lu verses

lcb sinner (basic verse)

jia baoyu--better known to most as hong lu--is a child of the well-off jia family, with several siblings, older and younger. they grew up in a nest, yes, but they're even more sheltered than that; it's only recently that they've been able to leave their family's strict control over them. currently, they are sinner #6 of limbus company, traveling around the city in search of golden boughs.

hong lu is cheerful and inquisitive, though their lack of worldly experience often leads to them accidentally offending people. they consider the other sinners to be their dear friends and are quite happy to be part of the company. they don't talk about their past much, and prefer to avoid discussing the topic of family too deeply, but they still inevitably bring it up from time to time--their family is their only point of reference for a lot of things, after all. though they come across as airheaded, having grown up in a family always looking to trample on each other to get ahead, they're actually quite adept at navigating social situations, provided they know what cues to keep in mind.

like the other sinners, they're capable of "putting on" their mirror world identities, accessing their memories, abilities, and personalities. unless otherwise specified, all verses listed below are identities, and aspects of them can be brought into main verse threads if desired!

alternate verses below the cut!

kurokumo wakashu

the mirror world in which hong lu is a member of the kurokumo clan, a syndicate with widespread control in the southern parts of the city. despite the kurokumo clan's strong adherence to heirarchy, he has no respect for his superiors--and yet, seems to have some special privilege in order to get away with this behavior. this hong lu is cold, cocky, and flippant. as with the rest of the kurokumo clan, he wields a katana.

tingtang gangleader

the mirror world in which hong lu leads the tingtang gang, a syndicate in the backstreets of district 10 known for their flashy sense of style, which makes it hard to take them seriously. their members seemingly take after their leader; this hong lu is a frivolous man who loves to gamble and have fun, certainly not someone you would peg as the leader of a gang. dismiss him at your own peril, however, or you may find that his mirthful laughter accompanies a switchblade cutting your throat.

liu section 5

the mirror world in which hong lu is a member of the liu association's section 5. in personality, this hong lu seems notably similar to her "base" self; perhaps joining a large association isn't too off-base for the jia family's black sheep? her fighting style, however, is vastly different: rather than her usual guandao, she wears gauntlets and boots that light aflame with friction, using precise and stylish martial arts to take down her targets.

w corp cleanup crew

the mirror world in which hong lu is--or perhaps "was" is the better word--a member of w corp's cleanup crew. do try not to get left behind in a warp train, won't you? you don't want to end up like her, transformed into a fleshy monster. at least she still has her space-tearing polearm. this hong lu is long abandoned, and has given up all hope. her smile and optimism: gone.

if it wasn't clear, this verse plays on the idea that the dimension shredder ego is her w corp identity's ultimate future. (i know that's not really how egos work, but sue me, the idea is fun and i want to write it.) i'm willing to write her at any point within this timeline!

k corp class 3 excision staff

the mirror world in which hong lu is an employee at k corp. class 3 excision staff are pumped so full of regeneration ampules while on the job that they have to spend the rest of their time in suspended animation to maintain their compatibility and minimize the risk of gruesome death, so why the hell did her grandmother think getting her this job would be a good way to let her see more of the world?

fate au

non-identity verse

true name: jia baoyu, though she prefers to be called hong lu. lancer-class heroic spirit. source: chinese literature (dream of the red chamber).

an enigmatic individual who was, in a previous life, a piece of jade who wished to see the world. her left eye is a mystic eye, but she's cagey when asked about what it does. she wields a guandao in combat.

skills: (will be filled in later but she's mainly support)

noble phantasm: land of illusion (dream of the red chamber) - effects will be filled in later but it's a reality marble

genshin impact au

non-identity verse

it's clear to anyone with a brain that this carefree liyuen is nobility of some form, so what are they doing adventuring? there's a good reason why hong lu rarely returns to liyue; the millelith know their face, and the streets of liyue harbor are dotted with missing person posters for the jia family's runaway, baoyu. presently, they're exploring teyvat, armed with nothing but the hydro vision they got when they resolved to leave and a cheap polearm they bought along the way, neither of which they're very skilled with. it's a miracle they haven't been killed by treasure hoarders or hilichurls yet.

[zumpietoo]

Firstly, I love how so many of the gg are outing themselves as Cole haters. Second, if they are so confident he is a big lying cheater and Lili will out him now. Let’s wait and see Cole haters. I wouldn’t hold my breath, I’m betting all you are getting is some more of those vanity shoot pics you can sooth your crazy selves with.

Oh it's really obvious she's gonna say absolutely nothing. If anything? Kinda seems like this was a big bitch slap for her and she knows she'd best simply distance herself (tho, again, he didn't even say anything much)...but yeah, sad vanity shoot pics (TBF, I do like the car and the cabin, so maybe there'll be moar of that!)

Plus....even if she HAD receipts, sooooo???? She'd prove he was an OMG!!! Cheatahhh!!! Wow....so fucking what? (and again, she won't).

That said, THIS stupid piece on Jezebelle (which stopped being cool like a decade ago) now further and fully illustrates the issue

Now, first off, fuck this stupid cuntwipe.....(not Cole). Secondly, here's the thing.....and the key:

All her whining translates to:

"I loved doormat Cole/Cody/Jughead yet here he is, thinking he gets to be a person with needs, etc and has A bad habit and has made it clear he isn't gonna everrrrr be my internet/teevee BF, how DARE he???"

Dude, Cole's legit always like this interviews, where TF have you even been? He always uses big words (that's a point I'll revisit), there's shit he recorded prior to even booking Plaiderdale with that.....

And, again, it appears the big issues are always, in addition to above, "how dare he be smart, how dare he be irreverent, etc...

And it's always done by one particular type of (usually) female:

Thinks they're sooooperrr smart, speshul and talented (particularly writing).....is, actually....none of the above. Despite this pining for Cole to be a sad sack doormat, doesn't even actually go for the hot loner in the corner, but prefers the bourgeois football hero. And disparages Cole for being both the hot nerd and now, turns out, not really.

Also, resents that he's probably smarter and certainly moar erudite....

Dudes, we see you and it's an absolutely horrible look. You're just assholes. Accept it. And you all self insert as Breetch and PP, because they're rather average middle class girls who got to fuck him....and when he dumped them, you think he dumped YOU....and it begins the end of their associated fame

[praublem-child]

I know this isn't my fandom blog, but it is my main blog and I've been talking about Bubble for a paper I'm writing in my abnormal psych class, so I'm just gonna post this here.

Normally I don't like to hype Netflix movies because I think Netflix is a fairly predatory streaming service (they all are really, but still), and their movies and shows often get cut off before they can really get going, but holy shit this one was good.

I don't normally watch movies and stuff because I like to stick with my current hyperfixations, but because I'm writing this paper I ended up picking it after finding myself in a reddit hole after searching for "animated autism movies". I'm not entire convinced that the characters are autistic, but I certainly related to them more than I do most characters.

Hibiki has confirmed sound hypersensitivity. He was taken to a lot of doctors as a child to figure out why, we even got an MRI scene where he was visibly flinching from the noises. He got overwhelmed easily by the sounds of the city, and we have a few scenes where we see his mother progressively lose hope and eventually she drops him in what looks to be a special education class. Throughout the movie we see him being very protective over his headphones and wincing at multiple sounds, showing an obvious disinterest in socialization, and he has a grand total of two interests that we see, both of which he seems incredibly good at. Hibiki is also awkward around socialization, hyperaware of his surroundings, and I noticed a general lack of emotions and empathy compared to his teammates. It wasn't completely gone, but it was noticeable if you were looking (I was looking bc of this paper).

The other main character is named Uta, who isn't actually a human at all. I never actually figured out what she is? She's like,, literally a bubble. But also not? Anyway, aside from the movie's main problem not making almost any sense, Uta is nonspeaking for the first part of the film, and only speaks in simple words and references to the little mermaid which she read early on. Both her and Hibiki seem to connect in ways that neither could with any of the other members on the team. I'm not gonna give spoilers that I don't think are relevant to this autism thing, but there's probably several reasons outside of that. Regardless, it made sense to me that if they were both autistic they'd be closer to each other despite barely knowing each other. I know I've always found it easier to connect and communicate with other autistic individuals in my life.

Uta also has some fairly weird mannerisms and very clearly doesn't understand social cues. This makes sense given the fact that she's literally not human, but I couldn't help but draw parallels between her behaviors and how I acted as a kid (re: like a feral cat).

Now I know I didn't talk about everything in the movie, I'm like three hours past when I should have gone to bed and I need to save some of this brain power for the actual paper, but if anyone actually reads this post please go watch Bubble on Netflix. It makes no sense, I still barely understand what was going on in the movie, but it was so pretty to look at and the main characters are autistic coded at the very least. The music is also going to be stuck in my head for weeks.

Anyway. (not so) Mini rant over, time to sleep and try not to hyperfixate for the next week on this movie. It's already like two years old and had barely anything about it online, so I seriously doubt I'd be able to find a solid amount of fanfiction to fuel me if that happened. /hj

Trailer (the english dub is rlly good btw): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8pbWblLkHHk

[esther-dot]

While Sansa don't acknowledge Jon as her real brother and maintain distance with him by calling him half brother, I don't think she is being asshole. Most likely she was snobbish. It's not like she is bullying him for his status. While Jon did have to face bastard issues in society, it's not Sansa who is creating rules for him. Ned don't want to acknowledged it and Cat resented him. Jon's issues are with society and elders just like Ary@. Sansa is not responsible for their issues.

(in reference to this reblog)

We are repeatedly given examples of Sansa caring about people, being kind, in spite of herself, so to me, it is antithetical to who she is to claim she was deliberately being cruel. And, Sansa calling Jon "half-brother" is far less offensive than calling him bastard. I have even argued in the past the (apparently unpopular stance!) that it's a kindness to use one term over the other. I can't find my post about that, but here is someone else suggesting the idea (link). I wouldn't be mad if that isn't the case, and we can certainly interpret Jon's words to mean he was hurt by it regardless of Sansa’s motivation, but I think we have to acknowledge that how Jon interpreted it might not be how Sansa intended it.

Jon may have taken it to be Sansa pushing him away, but bastard is an ugly word in Westeros and Jon bears the burden of that. Bastard indicates not only that they didn’t have the same mother, but also the social stigma that shouldn’t be on the child but is. Half brother doesn't imply any of those awful stereotypes about the child, it might even mean Jon is of equal social class/a brother from a previous marriage rather than a reminder that he is illegitimate, likely baseborn, and full of lust/lies/betrayal etc. It just seems to me that Sansa's preferred term is objectively nicer and even more so when considering Jon's issues with bastardy. 🤷🏻‍♀️

Another element to consider is that depending on the closeness of the relationship/the nature of it, all manner of things are forgiven or don't even bother you, but if a different person does the same thing who doesn't have that close bond to mitigate it, it’s a big problem ie it's possible the lack of a sibling relationship mean that Jon took what Sansa called him in the worst way. So, Jon may not see it the way I do, and maybe Sansa didn't intend it that way either, we might get a scene in which Sansa apologizes to Jon for some childish behavior (which will thrill antis' souls), but at this point, declaring we know Sansa’s intent is premature and declaring her an asshole unwarranted. Jon can be hurt by something that Sansa had no intention of causing him pain. And, even if she did choose to create distance, I still wouldn't think “asshole” is remotely an accurate word for Sansa.

Wherever you fall in your interpretation, that original post was written with the expectation of causing drama, so I’m guessing “asshole” was an intentional overstatement (not a genuine reflection of the fan’s feelings) to express their anger with takes like mine and make the point that Sansa treated Jon badly. Obviously, I disagree. I am more in line with your way of viewing the issue ie it is a social problem that impacted the way the kids related to each other and how Jon viewed himself. Acting like the 11yo is the originator of Jon’s pain isn’t the takeaway we’re meant to have.

[slashingdisneypasta]

Kurt Kelly x Fem!Bitch!Reader || Oneshot

Title: Someone Gets Hurt

Plot: Some little wannabe steals away your boyfriend, Kurt, while also batting her big ass lashes and winning over your friends, too... until you've had enough. No one out bitches you.

Notes:

Obviously, this is inspired by Someone Gets Hurt from Mean Girls except with Regina (The reader) as the heroine.

Warnings: Overall bitchiness, possessiveness (You about Kurt), break ups (Make ups too though so its not too bad ^^), the ruining of another persons relationship (Random girl Lizzie and Kurt's), rapeiness (Ram), sexual references, underage drinking, overage drinking, just LOTS of debauchery over all, a smut bit near the end (Not full), etc.

Was I too proud with you? Was I too cold and forbidding? And you chose her over me Are you kidding?

Watching Kurt and Lizzie together this week has been torture. Terrible, burning, squeezing, not-at-all sexy torture.

Because Kurt, is yours.

He has always been yours. He was yours in kindergarten, he was yours in middle school, and he was yours all through highschool until this, unfortunate and butt fucking ugly, snag. Crossing your arms now and poisoning them with your eyes, you sit in the cafeteria... and think.

Just, think.

You don't gossip with your minions about all the bullshit going on in school, you don't discuss what you're going to do to the freshmen this year, no. Nothing. You're too busy... plotting.

There is no way in hell, that this pee-brained virgin bitch is going to steal your boyfriend, and not get paid back in turn. Its only fair- and you include interest, in your transactions like this.

One eye actually twitches, when Lizzie... the pee brained virgin bitch in question, gives Kurt a peck on the nose - oh so cute, but you don't even have to look at Kurt to see the disappointment flash in his eyes, - and hops off his lap when the bell rings. He has a free period now, you know because so do you and you usually spend it at the back of the football field together, but she has Chemistry, a thing you also know because hell- you just know everything. That's a basic fact. The whole school knows it and love that you never have to explain how you just fucking know shit.

But even being all knowing does not make you feel better, knowing that itty bitty roach-cunt has her claws embedded in your poor, weak-willed... ex boyfriends,... heart. Or his penis, more likely. Metaphorically speaking, obviously, because Lizzie's the 'Mary'est whore in the land of Westerberg High.

That doesn't really matter though. Either way, he's with her now and not you, and that just wont do.

Maggie, your right hand babe, gets up from your lunch table and leaves for her next class, too. And its only until she's out of sight, that you notice the piece of paper she left behind. Rolling your eyes, a growl of annoyance escapes you and you sigh- turning away from Kurt and Ram's table to see what the fuck it is. The reprieve is almost palpable, not looking at him anymore. It feels a little better- but not by much. And certainly not enough for you to forget what fuckery is going on.

Picking up the piece of paper in one perfectly manicured hand, you see that its an invitation. "Hmm... " Worrying the inside of your cheek, you think; This is interesting.

A Halloween party...

A gleeful smirk quirks slightly at the corners of your lips.

Kurt always did have a thing for Halloween.

~

And what you meant by 'Kurt always did have a thing for Halloween'- is 'Kurt always did have a boner for your Halloween costumes'. For the past several years, since the two of you blossomed with the help of puberty, you have used your assets as an advantage - because why else have them? - ; With the help of lace tights, push up bra's, winged eyeliner and red lipstick.

This year you've pulled together your favourite costume yet, which is fitting for the task at hand and the fact that its senior year- this may be your last chance to put these bottom dwelling highschool chuckleheads in their place.

I mean, you hope not but its basically a given.

Looking around the party as you walk in, you figure its just the same as any party Ram has thrown before. And his house is perfect for it, you'll give him that. The lights a turned down low enough that everyone looks a little hot, cooler's full of ice and alcohol are set up so you're never too far from a fix and thanks to his houses sound system the music is loud enough to make you think for a couple hours that you're in a place between reality and your dreams; A perfect set up for mistakes and one wild night.

But you aren't here to get drunk and kiss a loser, except for Kurt; You're here to take back the goddamn crown. Which getting Kurt back, will do. It'll humiliate Lizzie, and that's really all you want out of life right now.

Prowling through the crowd - which still knows to part for you, despite your current, slightly lower social standing, - in your knee high, shiny black leather boots, you look for someone to talk to. You know Maggie's here somewhere but that bitch is on her last life with you, after she said Lizzie's hair looked nice the other day. And you think some silent treatment will set her straight.

"Oh- Hi Ram." You find the host in the backyard, about to push an unsuspecting demoness into in a very sheer red blouse into the pool - which would doubtlessly make the blouse more of a red tint to her skin rather then any kind of coverage, which Ram well knows, - , and he double takes when he sees you. A sleazy, mischievous grin slops over his face at the sight, which makes you roll your eyes.

Deeply.

"Ohhh, heyyyy, Y/N!" He has to yell over the sound of the music and the other party-goers, not that you would mind if you didn't hear anything he said. He hasn't got a whole lot of substance, Ram, so you can basically assume that rolling your eyes is always the answer to anything he's saying. His eyes shift back, anxiously, to the girl he's currently got a hit out on, but you just raise your eyebrows sharply at him and he's at attention. "I didn't know you were gonna come! You know, with the state of things... "

Oh, he's so obnoxious. And dumb! So, so dumb. He doesn't know the half of your shit. Yet he still runs his mouth... Rolling your eyes once again, you flip some hair behind your head. "Oh don't worry your pretty little head about that, Ram." Eyes flickering around the party some more, searching for your own target, you rest your hands on your hips that are tightly bound, in various layers of violet georgette cloth. The witches hat on your head is pinned down, so theirs no chance of it flying off. You have a train of thinner fabric hanging down the back of your short-short skirt, and your tight tube top reveals exactly the shapes you require it to. "I'll be perfectly fine- oh, have you seen Kurt anywhere?"

"Uhhhhhhhhhhh I think I saw him and Liz against a wall earlier- but by the looks of Liz, I doubt they're in a situation like that anymore." He chuckles, dumbly. The stupid boy has a slur in his voice that you hadn't noticed before but probably should've known would be there. But you're sure focusing in on him now, jealousy burning in your eyes at his description. What does that mean??

"What?"

A geek walks by, toting a bottle in his hands that Ram snatches for himself. As the kid continues by, faster now due to the angry look in Ram's eyes and the animalistic growl that slips from the footballers lips, you continue to glare bullets at Ram. He takes a messy swig of his beer before continuing. "Just sayin', Y/N. Your friend's a prude. Won' even let Kurt get to second base with 'er or anything. So I'd say Kurt's, probably, uhhh... by the pool table, now." He shrugs big round shoulders then, as relief and mirth wash over you. So he didn't mean they'd have moved their dirty little adventure to somewhere they could really get down, or anything. He means quite the opposite.

A smirk graces your red painted lips.

"Well- enjoy your party." You shrug, not really caring as his eyes shine... turning back to the demon girl who's just laughing with her friends; He sure will. Eyes narrowing, you mutter a bitter "Dick." under your breath, as a final bid to Ram.

Turning on your heel, you head back into the house. You've been here plenty of times with Kurt and know exactly where the pool table is (And how uncomfortable it is to be bent over) and sure enough- there he is.

Your boyfriend.

Or, soon-to-be, once-again boyfriend.

He's standing back with a stick, waiting for his turn as he laughs with some over football boneheads. Lizzie isn't here, but you suppose she could have gone to get a drink or talk to one her - your, - friends, but where she is actually doesn't concern your in this moment. All you can do right now, is stand and stare.

God, he's hot.

You miss him; You really do. And, admittedly- not just because he can fuck you like no one else.

But your moment passes, and you gather your wits. Ready.

You're hot, you're smart, and you're ruthless. You can do this.

Saddling up beside Kurt, a genuine smile slips across your face as you look up at him; Running a hand back through your hair. "Hey, Kurt." Slightly widening your eyes, you raise a brow as he turns to look down at you. "What's up?"

Like- its been a while. What have I missed?

Immediate 'Oooooh's and 'Oh no the ex- Kurt watch out!'s erupt from his meathead athlete friends, but what you care about is how Kurt struggles for a moment to tear his eyes away from yours, like the eyeliner you perfected and the colour and the just- you, has hypnotised him. He flashes his friends a wicked grin, waiving them off as he turns to put his body between you, and the group. It puts you so close together- and you sure don't step back any.

Then his eyes flicker down to the rest of you- and he really has a problem looking away. "Oh, uh, hey Y/N. N-nothing much. Uh... you look... "

A gentle chuckle flutters out of you, resting a hand on your right hip. "What? Black cat caught your tongue?"

Jesus- even the mention of that particular muscle reference to him does something to you. And being this close to him again, and seeing his reaction to your outfit... its all just so right. The way things should be.

He opens his mouth to say something else, but immediately closes it again on remembering something. A seriously awkward hm sound escapes him which you don't quite get yet, but you decide that you don't need to.

"So... " You start, getting rid of the tough bravado suddenly... letting awkwardness seep into your tone; Your appearance. On purpose. Eyes downcast, you let your arms slide down to your sides again, lacing your fingers together in front of you for a moment, pretending you're at a loss for words. "Um... maybe this is... weird... "

"What?" A big hand ghosts over your hip- you can just feel his skin graze against you.

You look up to catch his gaze again suddenly, lips and eyebrows scrunching after a moment, unsurely. "Uh, well... " Chewing innocently on your bottom lip, you hold your arms behind your back; not-at-all meaning to push out your chest more. No, not at all... "Me coming up to talk to you... since the break up... "

A hiss escapes him, as he suddenly, seemingly, like just seeing you had him returning to old habits, remembers that fact himself and takes a step back from you. Your brows knit together, up at him- perfectly pitiful.

"Oh man- yeah. Maybe. Fuck!" He runs a hand up through his hair, looking convincingly tortured.

Already!

You could rejoice.

Oh, Kurt... we've only just started.

Sighing, you look away again. "Look, I'm sorry. I just... well, Kurt, I've missed you!"

Suddenly his eyes, still and focused, turn more sternly down on you and your insides squirm at it. Like muscle memory, your body screams for you to back up; Get on your knees, bat your lashes. Ask what's wrong, Daddy?

His eyes narrow, and you resist the temptation to smirk. "Oh- no. No, Y/N. I know what you're doing, okay? I'm not dumb! This is all just too... too... " The fact that he cant even really speak, even as he's trying to be all tough and put up walls between you two, really gives you confidence. You must still really have an effect on him- as you should. Of course you do. One week with a little lily livered slut bag does not erase an entire lifetime between two people. Kurts lips curl into a scowl. "You're not like this." He states, and you raise your brows. Oh? "You're manipulating me, aren't you? Come on, Y/N!"

His tone is pleading. He's begging, you.

Damn, he must really want Miss Lizzie's little ass.

After a moment, you shrug. "Okay, whatever, you got me." Shedding the innocent act, you lean back on the pool table as the boys continue to play; Laying yourself out for him. "Does that mean I was lying? No, I really do miss you."

He scoffs. "Yeah, right." Rolling his own eyes, he focuses his gaze off somewhere else in the party- rather then on you. "All you care about is your reign of terror."

Oh... he knows that's not true.

But still, if he's going to play that way- "Yeah, sure- and all you care about is pussy." Shrugging, you drum your fingers bordly against the edge of the table on either side of you. "I guess we're a pair."

"Fuck, Y/N... you know you're... y-you're... Damn, that I love you. You fucking know that." He hisses, getting mad. And you inwardly smirk.

There it is...

Tightening your grip now, you look up at him to see he's once again looking at you. And for a moment, amongst all the madness that party's are- it feels like its just you two. "And you know... I love you."

Pushing off the pool table, you stalk towards him and trace your hands up his chest; Locking your arms around his neck lazily, and resting your chest against his. And you can see it. You can see, the struggle inside him about whether to just give into you- and your tits and your lips and your hips, and- just, you! Or to stay away. Because you're poison; Even you're well aware of that fact.

You're like a boa constrictor. You get yourself wrapped around your victim and you squeeze, and squeeze, and squeeze... until you have them just how you want them. Moulded into a shape that works well, for you.

But he's a lion. Imposing, and selfish, and self serving. And too big for you to ruin.

Its like you said; You're a pair.

And you cannot give him up.

"Kurt... come on." Leaning up, and talking in a quiet, just-for-him voice now, your lips brush against his and he lets out a shuddering breath. "We belong together, don't we? Its us- forever. You've known it since second grade. Sure, it took me a few more years to realise it too, but we're here now." Sincerity bleeds into your tone; Something you can't help when he looks like he wants to kiss you so badly, like that. "It can't be you and her." It cant. Tilting your head to the side, teasingly, you smirk mischievously; Just for him. "Is she going to fuck you like I do?"

"Shit... " Kurt mutters, eyes stuck on your lips. His hands find your waist, gathering you up against him roughly like he always does when he just wants you. Animalistically, wherever you are- whoever sees be fucking damned.

But he still isn't taking you. And that's a problem.

Brushing a thumb over his bottom lip, you turn your head like your making out to kiss him- but don't. Furrowing your eyebrows, you look pleading at him for an answer. "Was it all a lie, then? With us? Were we?- "

And that does it- he's had enough- he's at boiling point- Lips smash into yours, crossing the centimetre of space between them and he doesn't fuss around at all, to warm up. Your tongues connect almost instantly, and in 0.2 seconds, you two are that moaning, making out mess couple that every party has.

Through your lust filled haze, you can just about feel victorious.

A few moments after that your back hits the closest wall, and your legs wrap around his waist as he holds you up- you two know the drill by now. Kurt's grinding his raging hard on deliciously through his jeans into your bare cunt- moaning and muttering something into your cheek as he sloppily makes his way down to your breasts about you being such a slut.

You REALLY don't mind.

Eyes half lidded, you catch sight of Lizzie in the crowd behind Kurt. The crowd that, apart from her, doesn't care at all what the two of you are doing.

You smirk absolutely evilly towards her, before mouthing 'mine'.

[starshipsofstarlord]

Petal

college!sebastian stan x reader

masterlist

Summary; Your boyfriend Sebastian has been spending much time studying, hardly sparing himself a break. Finally, he sees the pros of taking one

Warnings; smut, oral sex (male and female receiving), penetrative sex, vaginal fingering, anal fingering, fluff

divider by @firefly-graphics

Sebastian was to be home any minute, he had been prolifically stressed from his classes regarding his law certification, and you had decided to exhibit him a well deserved distraction that would surely take his wired brain off from the course that was practically running through his veins at this point.

It seemed that at every waking moment, he was doing something to aid his studies, and whilst that was great that he was so dedicated to passing for this insane qualification, he did need to take breaks here and there. He wasn't the only one suffering from his late nights, and his resurrection from slumber at the crack of dawn, no. You were too, you missed him, despite being in the same apartment and room as him for the majority of his spare time.

He acted as though he had no time to spare, but you were well acquainted with his schedule, especially by now. The only difference was, that he had no occupation for a moment to relax with you, or by himself. His showers took five minutes every morning and evening, it was as though he were rushing to clean himself so that he could proceed to go back to putting his nose in a book, or searching specifics online.

But tonight, you were going to cut him off. If he didn't endure a moment of mindlessness, then you were sure to go mad yourself. You were keening for his touch, all you had received in the past few weeks were chaste kisses on both your lips and forehead, as well as verbalised 'I love you's. Perhaps it was selfish, he was striving towards a great achievement in his life, and you wanted a little bit of attention, but you knew he was holding himself from any relief also.

From the minimal time that he spent under the cold stream of the showerhead, he didn't have enough time to rub one out, and there was no fear that you had of him seeing another woman. Sebastian was not like that at all, and you had the clarity of him being in the kitchen half the time, typing away on his laptop, as he ran over some old notes and updated them.

Currently, he was out, he was in his lecture. There was a span of fifteen minutes from the time that he would be on the walk home, and you knew that was exactly how long that took in your shared student apartment, because you too endured your studies. But once more, your own were pushed to the side as you speculated your appearance in the silver tapestry of your mirror.

Your hand steadied on your right hip as you posed in front of it, twisting your waist to find the most attractive angle for you in your new wear. The underwear was tight, and not to mention, completely sheer. It's see through nature made wearing it practically pointless, but considering his current frustrations, it was only fair to give something to rip off of you.

Truthfully, you had to admit, you looked damned good. There was no way he would choose studying law over ravishing your body, a spark jolted through your body as the door behind you opened, and with a seductive bite to your lip, you turned around, only to scream and cover your body with your hands, or at least to the best of your ability. "Holy fuck, don't you know how to knock?!"

"I didn't think I'd have to because your human dildo isn't here!" Anthony defended himself, having turned around, as the image of you, one of his best friends, practically in the nude, burned behind his eye balls. The fact that he had seen you made you feel sick, this was not how you had intended the afternoon to go.

"Is there a reason that you burst into my room looking for me Mackie?" The question was indeed one that you wanted to know the answer to, you still felt so exposed, although he was not looking at you. That was certainly something that you were going to avoid telling Seb, that would definitely be a big distraction from his work.

And of course, alongside that, he would have an intent to possibly murder your flat mate, and whilst Chris would be laughing at that, there would be a heavy hotness to your face, as you watched them immaturely battle. Anthony cleared his throat thoroughly, directing towards the face that he was about to speak.

"Definitely not to see you like that." Retorted the math major, shrugging the shiver off his shiver as the memory tormented him once more. "But... me and Chris were going to meet with Scarlett, Takia and Brie, we were going to see if you and Seabass wanted to join, but as I saw against my own will, you have something already planned for your dinner."

“Um yeah, no, we’ll pass. Thanks tho buddy.” Oh god, to say you felt awkward was an understatement. If you were wearing clothes, or at least more socially appropriate ones, you’d go to him and give him a typical punch on the shoulder. Though, if you were clothed more body wear, you wouldn’t be in this predicament. Only things like this happened in college flats, that was one thing that could be confirmed.

“Okay then. Good to know...” Anthony closed the door and proceeded to enter the kitchen. He went grab himself an apple, and realised then that it was an unfortunate consequence, but he had lost his appetite. There had been nothing wrong with your appearance - nothing at all - but you were his flat mate and friend! And, you had a boyfriend, whom was also a great reference of social interaction for him.

The sound of keys interlocking with the outside of the door echoed through the kitchen, someone was outside, and he’d be write in assuming that it was Sebastian. Chris was presently occupied by scouring the internet for ways to surprise the girl he was currently hanging with, and honestly by that, Anthony was scared to enter his room.

It could have been anything that he was searching, but to his contrasting luck, the last resident of their flat entered, creases firm on his brow, from thinking too hard. Sebastian was mulling over the lecture that his professor had given his class. Remember to take a break every now and then. Maybe he was right, a break couldn't postpone him from graduating him that much, could it.

Perhaps he was putting it all off, because after receiving his degree, the four of you would have to find somewhere else to live, and a part of Seb was inclined to ask you individually to move in with him. A one bedroom apartment would be cheaper than one with three rooms, and atop of that, he wouldn't have to be cautious of minor things like walking around the flat in little to no clothing, or fucking you on the kitchen counter.

They were all coupley things that he had wishes to do, but because there were another two men residing with you and him, albeit them being your friends, he didn't allow you to do so in anything less than one of his shirts that cascaded down your thighs, so that if you weren't wearing panties, everything would be concealed. Anthony gulped, remembering he had seen you in your surprise for this man, and gosh, did he want to keep quiet about his accidental peek.

Sebastian wasn’t the jealous type, it was rather refreshing how he found that to be an unappealing trait, however, it would still not settle well that someone saw his girl, in a compromising choice of wear that was supposed to be for his eyes only. He would surely make it clear that you were his, and thus the fucking in the kitchen that he dreamt about would be more than likely to unfold, as he rammed you against the cupboards, caring not if guests were due.

“Hey.” It was a breath of fresh air to speak to someone who was not on his course, it was as though he had become estranged from the people closest to him during this part of the term. Thus a striking pang of guilt landed in his chest as he wondered how you must have felt. He hadn’t touched you in any intimate sense in weeks, it certainly felt like years.

That truth gave him no pride, he dropped his items on the counter, planning on returning to them after he had tended to greeting you. A long kiss sounded nice, strung by a chord of untwined tongues that groomed the insides of your mouth, as you reciprocated. If he was very generous to himself, he’d perhaps lay down for a moment, and allow his pianist hands to wander for more than a moment, stroking them up and down your thighs, until he gave supple attention to your sweet delicacy, dipping down to kiss it and run his fingers over the beautiful gates that only he was allowed to surpass through.

Anthony muffled a reply to him, before shuffling out the room, casting him a weird side eye, but Sebastian thought little of it as his mind was preoccupied with something other than his studies. Oh, and how he didn't mind. The mental image of your nude portrait blessing his eyes was enough motivation to have him striding at a fast, yet considerable pace, towards the door to your shared bedroom.

He knew you must have been inside, he saw your lanyard hanging on the coat rack, that was literally a makeshift piece of wood that you had drunkenly returned with one night, along with a very much intoxicated Paul Rudd. There had been construction nearby, and you thought that it was possible to turned the sharp edged plank with nails sticking out as a bedframe. Least to say, Sebastian did not allow that to happen, knowing that one morning, you would end up spiking your scalp against one of the rusted nails.

People had gotten hurt by it from where it was already, there was that time that Tessa had tried to lean on it for a photo, that in retrospect was an applicant towards your photography course, but that didn't end well, you were pretty sure there was still a streak of her blood stained into one side. That may have been why Chris had turned its weight around after that. However, none of you had the money to spare to invest in a real rack, so for now it stayed.

It sure as hell wasn't coming with you guys when you moved out, that was one thing that Sebastian was going to ensure. If Anthony wanted it, then so be it, if all went to plan, the pair of you wouldn't be living with the lovable goof when the time came. Turning the knob to the room, Sebastian heard a gasp, and thus after he shut it, he saw you wrapped up in your robe, your head cocked to the side as you seductively tried to settle on your small double bed.

"You made me jump Sebba." No, he could tell that you had been taking a short nap, as though you had wanted to forget some details from your day. And that you did, and you hoped that Anthony did as well. "Have you got much work to do bubs?" You raised yourself on your elbows and shuffled towards him as he came to sit on the side of the mattress.

"Think I'm going to take a short hiatus from it for a few hours." Now that certainly sounded pleasant, you hummed at his words, stroking his shoulder, as you pressed a kiss to his hand that moved cup your cheek. "Have I been neglecting my little petal?" It was a name he used whenever he was seeking forgiveness, but this time, you shook your head, frowning, as you settled a small smile on your face.

"You've been understandably busy, I get that. I'm not going to go as far as to use that word babes, you've just had a little time to yourself and your schoolwork, and that is fine." He tapped your chin, cocking his head to the side, inviting you to straddle his lap. You'd have been stupid if you refused after all the time that you had spent mentally apart from him, so without another hint, you clambered over his thighs, a giddy expression corrupting your face.

"This is why I love you. So open minded, and not to mention, that mind of yours has had me doing some thinking." Nodding in a current to prompt him to continue, his hands eased their lodging onto your bare thighs, stroking the skin with large soothing swipes, making any hair on your body stand on edge, as he averted his eyesight to the split of your gown that crisscrossed around your chest. It wasn't a sexual focus however, it was more so as though he feared a rejection of one kind.

"Hope you're not gonna propose us having a kid or something, because now is certainly not the time." At your humour, he sincerely laughed, causing a calm to wash over you and him, as he finally looked you in the face. “Unless you mean buying a plant, our last one died, and now you use the old pot to stub out your blunts." You could see the improvisational container as you turned your head to the side, seeing its white exterior be a gradient of light to shielded grey.

"I want you to move in with me." Sebastian responded straightly, bracing his slightly nervous palms to the divot of your waist, as he grasped the skin below your ribs, swirling the pads of his thumbs across your skin, caressing each nimble pore on that part of your body. His breath captured the side of your neck, as he licked a sweet line across a vein that he specifically picked out using his

"We already live together silly. Unless we're gonna move to mars." As you spoke, your brows optimistically raised, as your forearms found a home around the back of his neck, as you pressed tentative kisses to his clean jaw. A series of giggles evicted from you as you darted your tongue out to taste his sharp skin, your hand slipping down to control his own, trailing his touch beneath your gown so that the tips of his fingers were brushing the mesh of your underwear that was poised in a curve upon your hipbone.

"As much as the space nerd in me would love that, and not to mention you would make one foxy astronaut, I meant, after this, and here, we find a place for just you and me. I get if you don’t-“ you pressed your left forefinger to his lips, humming with a smile as he shared a gentle kiss upon your skin. He took the digit into his mouth, sucking the skin and swirling his tongue around the crescent of your nail.

“That sounds... perfect.” Ushering your finger from out past his lips, and the barrier of his nipping teeth, you languidly stroked his bottom lip, spreading the small extent of saliva that had coated your finger. “I’m so happy you’re taking a break Sebba, you deserve it. There’s something I want to show you baby, I know you’re going to like it.”

“Is it under this robe by any chance?” Obliging his answer with a supporting action, you allowed his hands to remain beneath the sleek material, as you untied the thick strand that tied the two sides together around your body. Pushing the dark silk from your shoulders, you revealed the design of petals that prompted through the thin material of your undergarments, everything exposed through the sultry and intimate pieces.

“Do you like it?” You seemed to have forgotten about Anthony seeing you in the internal wear, and from Sebastian’s honed gazing at your full breasts, your nipples sternly grew hard, telling him without need for word that he was silently turning you on. A sigh escaped from him, as he plucked at the seam of your panties, tugging lightly at the side to drag the material up your slit, grasping a light moan from your intimately affected lungs.

“My lovely petal, like is an understatement. You do all this for me, I don’t think I’m going to know how much this was, especially where we’re supposed to be budgeting.” Seb quirked his unbrushed brow, pressing his lips against the column of your throat, intaking the smell and pungent taste of your floral perfume. “But I’m not going to complain, because seeing you like this is certainly worth a fine penny. Is it ungrateful for me to want it off of you though?”

“Wait.” You instructed him, pressing your tongue into the divot of his chin, swiping a line of saliva through the bone structure. “I think we should get my money’s worth. First, I want to get my fill of your appreciation, and then maybe, maybe then I’ll allow you to discard piece by piece from my skin.” Your dominant hand pressed against his growing bulge as a you slid off his lap, running your nose along his thighs, as you fiddled with the purchase of his jeans, him helping you tug the denim off, and down his thick thighs.

“You’re so good to me.” He leaned back, curling his fists into the sheets, as he watched you enduringly pat him over his boxers, drawing a spot of precum to seep out onto the white cotton. “My beautiful petal, hungry for my cock, you want it, don’t you? Want to suck my hard cock, practically starving for it, ain’t ya?” Profusely nodding, you drooled as he twitched, and pushed down his underwear, revealing his uncut, and growing cock.

“Holy shit.” Escaped you as a breathy conjunction of two words, your palm reaching out to rotate his foreskin in your hand, pushing the layer back gently to reveal his hidden slit. Your tongue darted out over the flushed head, suckling on the sensitive portion, spoiling yourself with the salty taste of his aroused skin. “You have such a pretty cock baby.” Pressing a kiss along the length, you dragged your tongue up his shaft, before returning to the tip, swallowing down his cock in your throat.

“Fuck.” Your boyfriend revelled in the pleasure, one of his hands capturing your hair in its hold, running his fingers through your locks as you bobbed your head. Gargled sounds choked out from your easing throat, as you continued your administrations, making Seb squeeze his eyes shut, as he endured the pleasure that you pledged him with. “Baby...”

You moaned around his cock, your glazed irises peeking up at him, before pulling off, a strand of saliva connecting you to his hung length. “Say it.” Was his demand as his hand pressed the cheeks of your face together, forcing your lips into an exaggerated pout. It was a notion of past experiences that reminded you of what he was speaking of, you blinked your lashes innocently towards him, steadily breathing through your nose as he patiently awaited for you to carry out his order.

“I’m your cockslut.” You mumbled out, spit pooling out of your mouth and rolling down the cleavage of your lips, descending onto your chin, and slipping to be a river down your chest, playing hide and seek in the cups of your sheer bra. “Love your fat cock, and your large balls, and the way your mouth exhibits complete bliss over my pussy.” He tilted your head to the side, as he leaned down, his spare hand reaching behind you to remove your bra, leaving it hanging loosely off from your shoulders.

“How about I eat your cunt, huh? You’d like that, wouldn’t you petal?” A whine slipped from your lips as you shouldered off the floral laced bra, discarding it on the bedroom floor, as you waded your legs about so that you could do the same with the slim lined panties. “Come on then, get up on the bed pretty girl, let me at that pussy.” Doing as he said, you clambered onto the mattress, your front against the sheets as you tried to position yourself. A slap rumbled off your ass cheek, as Sebastian struck down on the globe of fat, straggling a surprised moan from your lips.

It seemed like he wanted you to remain on your stomach, and so you did as he breathed a swab of cool air upon your clenching lips, swiping his tongue from your heavy clit to your soaking entrance. “Sebs, do something, please.” You collapsed your face into the bed, wiggling your ass towards his face, earning yourself another spank to your behind. It stung, but it was a hot heat that granted you a minor bit of relief; it was certainly better than nothing.

And then, his tongue probed at your entrance, test tasting your cunt as his muscle flicked deliriously over your clit, his forefinger prying at your slit, and slipping without struggle inside of your walls, evoking a withering moan to collapse out from your chest. Another digit slunk through your folds, filling your further, as his pace increased, his mouth surrounding your clit, and rolling the bud around with his instigating tongue. “Petal, pass me the lube.”

With a light head, you blindly reached your hand across to on top of his bedside table, locating the bottle with your fiddling hands, tossing it back towards him. A thump indicates that it did not land on the mattress as planned, instead the container of lubricant hit him in the forehead. A frown covered his face as he shook his head, removing his fingers from your folds, as he grasped the bottle, splurging some of the clear and slippery liquid onto his fingertips.

Seb spread it around his fingers, rubbing it onto his skin, as he applied a little onto your tight hole, prying at your puckered entrance with his lubricated digits. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You gently rubbed your face against the sheets as Sebastian entered his fingers into your ass, quickly thrusting them in and out of you. “Feels so good Sebby, shit.” He continued his administrations with a clenched wrist, evicting pleasure upon you as you practically sobbed onto your shared bed. “No, no-“

He removed his fingers, as well as his own shirt that was still covering his chest. Seb clambered off the bed for a moment, locating a condom, as he gave his cock a couple of jerks, rolling the avast protection onto his length, as he positioned himself on his knees behind you. He entered you swiftly, returning his fingers back into your tighter hole, as he began to thrust into both of your entrances. Sounds of pleasure were compelled out from your lungs, as you half screamed his name; there were tears collecting in the corners of your eyes as you endured wafts pleasure from both intimate angles.

He curled his fingers within you, picking up his pace as his hips profusely clashed against your own. He was chasing a high, whilst simultaneously reducing you to nothing but a racer to your own. “So fucking tight; in both holes.” His teeth clenched as he moaned at the sensation of your walls clenching harshly around him, as he filled the condom with his white and warm seed. He remained inside of you as he brought one hand down to your cunt, playing with your clit, as he sternly thrusted his fingers into your ass.

It didn’t take long for you to reach your peak, cumming around his softened cock, and mewling into your own wrist. Sebastian extracted his tender cock from within you, also removing his fingers, as he swiped off the condom, tying to open side so that no cum would spill out, and then discarding it in the bin. “Shit, I was wanting some attention from you, but I didn’t know I was going to get that.” You laughed lightly, feeling a little hazy and drunk from your numbing orgasm.

In turn, your boyfriend laughed too, grabbing his shirt from off the ground, and lightly pulling you up, helping you into the baggy material. He pressed a sweet kiss upon your forehead as he rolled to be laid beside you, bringing your sweaty body into his matching side, watching through appeased lids at how you curled yourself into him. “I love you darling.”

“I love you too Seb.” You replied, pressing a kiss to his soft nipple, as his arms locked adoringly around you. “And I’m so proud of you for putting your all into your course.” Your nails stroked down his stomach, as the two of you laid upon the sheets, rather than underneath them.

“Of course I would, it’s for our future in the long term of things.” He stated, brushing any loose strands of hair out from your face. “But I guess it’s okay to take a break sometimes. And that, well that was certainly worth the time away from studying, it always is with you.”

[pikahlua]

ok im unsure if this is something that has been asked/answered before but i am a really bad listener when it comes to japanese and sometimes only vaguely pick up when characters are speaking impolitely. any insight on like a scale of who is the most polite vs impolite? i feel like bakugou is only rarely polite when it's superiors (but even thats rare depending on who it is?) where as midoriya is like in the middle ? sorta rude sometimes? particularly when hes got that win to save mindset on haha (thanks kacchan)

oH GOD

You chose quite the topic, dear anon.

Without writing you a 100-page thesis, I'll see what I can do here.

I think what you're referring to are the politeness levels of Japanese grammar patterns, such as polite speech vs informal speech and things like that. I can certainly tell you which characters use which forms the most often. But you should understand that using polite speech isn't always polite in-context. Say you have a close friend you always speak to with informal Japanese; if you suddenly switch to polite speech, you would sound cold and distant, like you aren't friends anymore. That person would wonder what they did to offend you. The speech forms you choose need to reflect the relationship you have with your conversation partner as well as the context in which you are conversing. Likewise, there are situations where it’s totally appropriate to use informal speech: Aizawa speaks to his students this way, and no one should bat an eye about it because he’s in an elevated social position to them as their teacher.

There are also certain grammar patterns within informal Japanese that are unique and stylized. I’d say from what I personally can notice, I’d divide what I know into the following groups: standard informal, masculine/assertive, feminine/casual, slangy, and rude (aka masculine/assertive up to 11). By rude, I don’t mean offensive...except often it is? It has its appropriate contexts within a friend group.

So here’s what I did: I split up the class 1-A characters by gender (because comparing the context of genders just sounds like a nightmare), and then ranked them in groups of politeness levels based on how they speak to their peers.

Girls:

Yaoyorozu (polite, feminine)

Asui, Hagakure (informal, feminine), Jirou (informal, androgynous)

Ashido (informal, feminine, casual, slangy, a little more assertive than group #2)

Uraraka (informal, casual, but she can be assertive/masculine in the right context like for competition or exercise)

Boys:

Aoyama, Kouda, Midoriya, Ojiro, Sero (informal, Sero can dip a little into the masculine/casual realm)

Shouji, Iida, Todoroki (informal, masculine/assertive)

Satou, Mineta (informal, masculine/assertive, a bit more slangy, Mineta can dip into the rude territory in certain situations)

Kaminari, Kirishima (informal, masculine/assertive, a lot more slangy, the dudebros)

Tokoyami (informal, masculine/assertive, rude, about the same politeness as group #4, but Tokoyami doesn’t talk like a dudebro in the ways Kaminari and Kirishima do)

Midoriya when his desire to win outweighs his desire to save (informal, masculine/assertive, slangy, rude, emulating 90% of Bakugou’s speech patterns)

Bakugou (informal, masculine/assertive, slangy, rude, trying so hard to sound like an asshole delinquent it’s funny because we all know he goes to bed at like 8 or 9pm)

If there’s a particular character you’d like further insight on, please ask! It’s especially helpful if you want to know how they talk to another character or in certain situations, like to a teacher vs. a peer vs. an enemy or something.

[mysticdragon3md3]

I find it endlessly amusing how after 10 years, my OTPs have circled back onto the same type. lol

I realize the Blue Lions have Dedue, and Ashe used to be a commoner. But Ashe got adopted into a higher class. Meanwhile, the Golden Deer has 3 commoners who stay commoners.

And Yukimura probably had commoners serving under him, but Sengoku Basara (2009) takes a lot of time to emphasize that Masamune's commoner associates are named, get screentime, voice his effect on them, and spent time closely serving under him. Meanwhile, Yukimura's only named subordinates seem to also be lords or ninja, more than basic commoners.

When referring to "self-doubt & a phase of failing as a commander", I'm specifally referring to Sengoku Basara (2009) season 2 for Yukimura. That's pretty much most of what he does that season. And he made a critical decision error as a commander that got one of his major subordinates killed and probably also unnecessarily killed some of his other soldiers. Though I am vaguely aware that in one of the videogames, Yukimura similary spent most of the story in self-doubt, after thinking Takeda was dying, and I think he ran his army around doing actions without enough thought.

And of course, with Dimitri, I'm referring to his post-time-skip phase wherein he went full "boar" and refused to properly lead his army. Though after regaining more mental stability and becoming a proper general, he still gets haunted by self-doubts for the rest of his life.

When I spell "Strength" with a capital "S", I'm usually shortening my term "True Strength" and referring to both a mental and emotional fortitude, resilience, and frequently an iron resolve in Compassion. That's just my personal philosophy in defining "True Strength". Personally, I see 2 definitions of "strength" that both converge at Compassion, to define "True Strength". 1) In an amoral sense, strength is resilience in maintaining one's own "soul pattern"/emotions/resolve, without being swayed or influenced by outside forces to change. 2) In terms of defining strength as the ability to do what is most difficult, in my opinion, Compassion is the most difficult. Not only do acts of Compassion often cost a range of efforts from some to exorbitant, but it can also require the enacter to put themselves into a vulnerable position. So it is often something only the strong can afford, or survive, or disregard fears of being vulnerable or taken advantage of. Therefore, in my personal opinion, converging the 2 definitions into an unwavering resolve in Compassion, is my personal definition of "True Strength".

So when I categorize Date Masamune as having Strength, I mean he is unwavering in his resolve towards Compassion. Sengoku Basara 2009 takes a lot of instances to reiterate that Masamune cannot be swayed, his Resolve is unquestioning, no one can stop him, slow him, or change his mind. His catch phase is "pressing onward" (translated as "full speed ahead"). One of his first scenes is charging ahead, disregarding Katakura's warnings for caution. (Notice that in Judge End, this is framed as foolish brashness, but in Sengoku Basara 2009, Katakura smiles and continues following without worry, because he completely trusts Masamune's instincts and decision-making. Because everyone trusts Masamune 2009 to always make decisions based in the best ideals/Compassion.) This is reiterated throughout season 2, when Masamune makes allies and each of them ask him to change directions, but the most they can do is temporarily slow him down, because he doesn't stop moving forward. This Strength directed in outward Compassion towards others is almost unexpected after considering Masamune's historical backstory. One would think that someone betrayed by his mother would become disillusioned and spiteful towards the world. It's a basic supervillain backstory to be betrayed by a trusted figure, especially during fundamental development. But instead, Masamune seems to want only to protect others and bring the whole country under his command, so that the whole country of people can be under his umbrella of protection. The 2009 series only mentions his regret from one of his early battles where lots of his soldiers died, being his major motivation in protecting others, specifically his soldiers. But I've headcanon'ed a lot that can be extrapolated from his historical backstory, that when in conjunction to his actions in Sengoku Basara 2009, portrays a Masamune who has dedicated himself towards Compassion, despite his tragic backstory.

Similarly, Claude's backstory is tragic, yet he emerges with True Strength. I've heard criticisms within the fandom that Claude growing up experiencing so much bullying and discrimination against his being biracial, could not believably yield a person dedicated towards Compassion. But I think that's just brainwashing from too many supervillain tropes telling us that traumatized and mentally ill people invariably become villains. I've heard it's more realistic that people who have experienced trauma, tragedy, or some kind of pain, actually are more likely to increase their ability to empathize/sympathize with others, consequently becoming more compassionate. (Mentioned in https://youtu.be/bHe2seINnE0 at 2:03/9:09; https://youtu.be/zaZYDK1RcEU) Claude experienced descrimination and bullying; he explicitly explains in FE3H canon that he wants to create a world where no one else has to experience that same pain. I really don't see why this can be an unbelievable characterization to some people, when most of the world admires Batman for literally that same reason. And I think that characters, like Claude, who react to trauma and hardship with altruism, demonstrate a True Strength in their characters. They haven't been broken by their trauma. They not only survive, but survive as people who still want to care for others. (Also why I love Natsume Takashi.)

I was tempted to include Dimitri in the category of "Emerged from tragic backstory with Strength and vowing to make world where no one will experience same pain". But he didn't emerge with the same level of flawless Strength that Masamune and Claude did. Dimitri certainly did resolve to protect others from ever experiencing the pain that he felt, after the Tragedy of Duscur. But he was also not as mentally stable. He was so repressed and internally conflicted (concerning his feelings of vengence, or sadness that didn't know how to be expressed as anything but anger, lest he break), that he didn't integrate his "boar" impulses/emotions until much later in his post-time-skip. I didn't feel that Dimitri was a fully reconcilled version of himself, until after he had accepted his "boar" emotions, stopped repressing his unresolved anger, and learned to express them more appropriately or at more appropriate times. After he became more mentally/emotionally stable, I have no doubt that he still can have episodes of rage, anti-social moods, or crippling survivor's guilt, but I think he no longer allows those feelings/episodes to push away the people he cares about or disregard his true personal desires to be kind/protective towards others. He knows how to deal with those feelings now. But he spent a long time not yet at that stable level, until much later. Until then, he was frankly wavering, conflicting with his personal resolve, denying his own ideals, and allowing his survivor's guilt manifesting as ghosts to sway him away from his true desires/motivations/values of Compassion. Dimitri was Weak for a time. So I can't say that he was in the same category of Strength as Masamune and Claude.

Dimitri's backstory of his father's death and idolizing Rodrigue, after he took him in, is information he canonically tells the player.

But I realize that Sengoku Basara 2009 never actually mentions a backstory like this for Yukimura. I'm actually referencing the takarazuka version of Sengoku Basara. In that play, they include a childhood backstory scene, where Yukimura's father was a subordinate of Takeda and died while protecting him. Young Yukimura blamed Takeda for his father's death and went to punch him out. Because Takeda understood that Yukimura needed catharsis and was trying to reconcile with his grief, Takeda allowed himself to be punched. But he also punched back. I think maybe to encourage Yukimura to keep going? I can't remember. But eventually, Yukimura punched out all his anger and only had energy left to finally cry, and Takeda said something that comforted him. From then on, he called Takeda "Oyakata-sama" and became completely devoted to him. This explained the origin of the running gag from the 2009 anime, wherein Takeda and Yukimura engage in fist fights as a form a bonding. (It's a shame that the video of these scenes was taken off YouTube. ;_; ) I don't know if "Sengoku Basara Sanada Yukimura-den" mentions how Yukimura's father dies, since he finally appeared in that game. So I'm referencing the takarazuka version.

There isn't really mention of Masamune's mother in the 2009 Sengoku Basara anime. The closest, was Masamune's maternal uncle appearing in the movie "The Last Party" that ended that anime series. But historically, after the real life Date Masamune survived smallpox at a young age, and lost sight in his right eye, there was a lot of dissent among the other high ranking people within his clan, concerning his continued position as the Date clan's head. A lot of this dissent was lead by his mother, who insisted that Masamune's younger brother should become the new clan leader instead. Some accounts say that to shut up accusations that Masamune was weak and that his faulty eye was just an advertised weakness that enemies would take advantage of on the battlefield, Masamune either pulled out his own right eye or ordered Katakura to do it. Apparently, that shut up everyone except his mother, who still continued to try undermining his position. I don't know if there was one instance of several, but she also tried to kill him through poisoning, to replace him with his brother. Because of this, Masamune's only choice was to kill his own little brother, which forced his mother to run back to her original clan. (I can only assume that Masamune didn't just kill his mother, because it's possible she indoctrinated his brother to ursurp him. So Masamune might have ended up eventually needing to kill his brother anyway.) Lots of us in the Sengoku Basara fandom like to headcanon that all of this happened for the Basara version of Masamune too.

It's my understanding that Cornelia implicated Dimitri's stepmother in the murder of his father and friends at the Tragedy of Duscur, but that things were still left canonically vague. Personally, the fact that Patricia was always kind to Dimitri, combined with the fact that Cornelia is proven duplicitous, I find it difficult to believe that Patricia intentionally betrayed Dimitri. The way Cornelia described it, she offered Patricia a chance to be reunited with her daughter Edelgard, Patricia confirmed that desire, then the Tragedy of Duscur happened. Given that Cornelia was already doing terrible things behind Patricia's back, like experimenting on Hapi, and Patricia being angry at Cornelia when she discovered Hapi, I doubt that Cornelia would have been fully truthful with Patricia. I imagine Cornelia tricked Patricia into opening a path or lowering some defenses to "allow a clandestine meeting with Edelgard", but then Cornelia would probably use it to sneak in enemies to kill Dimitri's father and friends. That's my headcanon theory on the Tragedy of Duscur anyway. So Dimitri was only *possibly* betrayed by his mother figure.

And that's my comparison between DateSana and DimiClaude/DMCL/ClauDimi. It continuously amazes me how similar these ships are and how my shipping has come full circle. lol

[slowlyreadinghouseofmirth]

Page 7

In truth, he had never liked her as well as at that moment -> Selden's affections here are plain to see, made so especially by subordinate clause 'in truth' which conveys an honesty and freshness about his feelings. Most importantly, he likes her when she is being her true self, unconventional, and willing to take risk. It's likely informed by his disillusion with high society and finding commonality in someone willing to disregard its etiquette. This is where Lily is unique.

There's also this sense that Selden likes Lily because she is impulsive and this sparks his curiosity to try and understand why she does the things she does-- understand Lily as a person.

He knew she had accepted without afterthought: -> This reaffirms Lily's lack of hesitancy, which alludes to how willing she is to be in Selden's company. It also shows how comfortable she is with him as she is aware of the rumours that could occur but never merits them with being a possibility, showing great trust.

Alternatively, being aware of the risks and having not afterthoughts could suggest that she doesn't fully understand the risks' depth and nuance as in future the situation at Monte Carlo would suggest, but I'm getting ahead of myself.

he could never be a factor in her calculations -> there's a colon that separates this clause from the previous one which suggests this is an explanation for Lily's certainty. To me this would point more towards Lily not really associating the risk of rumours with Selden because she trusts him so much. i.e she does not think of him when she thinks of the risks. But given that they are going up to his apartment it seems strange that Selden would not think himself a factor in her decision. It's therefore possible that he thinks that Lily does not think of him worthy of great consideration.

Also the noun 'calculations' would suggest a lot of thought had gone into the decision where it was previously implied it was one of impulse. This seems like Selden thinks that Lily is playing an intricate game, which further demonstrates his curiosity about her and need to understand her.

there was a surprise, a refreshment almost, in the spontenaity of her consent -> This further contrasts Selden's perception of Lily's 'calculations' and I think the narration is a fine weave between objective reality--where Lily is impulsive-- and Selden's subjective perceptions-- where Lily appears impulsive but there is something more complex informing her decisions. I think this is meant to show that Selden is blinded somewhat by his affections for Lily, seeing things deeper than what are there or what everybody else sees. Alternatively, we as the reader lack Selden's sight into the complexities of Lily and so she is introduced to us as other people see her, which isn't well at all, and we have to learn how Selden sees her. It's a challenge to care for Lily as he does.

The spontaneity invokes a light hearted and refreshing feeling of being in love which mirrors the honest of truth mentioned earlier.

So there's Selden's surprise at Lily being so spontaneous which draws back to a previous point about she is unique for being impulsive almost reckless. It's like we get a sense of her character and her environment from how the two are at odds with each other. Lily is impulsive; noone else of her class should be like that. In a way that makes her free from the system and yet shows her struggle against it but ultimately her struggle will be more defining.

She noticed the letters and notes heaped on the table -> I assume that this is a reference to future letters although I don't know if they would be the same ones. If they were, I don't even have the mental capacity to unpack that. Just the thought that Lily's fall is inevitable, that even when she is happy, having a nice time, an unknown omen lurks within the same room that will bring her sorrow... oh its symbolic, for sure. But I don't want to think about it.

Lily sank into one of the shabby leather chairs -> the verb 'sank' shows how at home Lily really is with this kind of surroundings, how the shabby whilst not fashionable or expensive, is comfortable. From this we and the the pile of letters we get an image of a a slightly disorderly but well-lived in home. This is one of the tragedies where we see the possibility of what her future with Selden could look like where it is unconventional but Lily is comfortable at home even with it.

"How delicious to have a place like this all to oneself! What a miserable thing it is to be a woman," -> I love Lily's exaggerated turns of phrases like 'delicious' and the exclamations; I think Wharton's emphasis on these exaggerations is to capture Lily's innocence through her speech by making it similar to that of a child who is easily excitable.

Again with the exaggeration but this time with 'miserable', we get the sense that Lily has found the world difficult as a woman to live in but miserable seems too strong of a word, certainly at this stage in the book and is sort of hidden within her other hyperbolised expressions. Maybe this creates a kind of cry-wolf situation where, when Lily properly starts to struggle, people don't take notice not only because it wasn't the done thing to do to talk about struggles but also because of her melodramatic personality, everyone thought the same stuff was happening as it had before and Lily was making a big fuss over nothing.

There is repetition of 'miserable' in association to being of female sex further down the page which is another example of Lily's melodrama. But at this point we as a modern audience start to question if she is actually alright (or at least I did). I'm not sure if a contempary audience if the time would have given the strict taboo over discussing any kind of struggle financial/physical health etc. let alone the discussion of mental health. From the impression I get of the time, the only real source of outlet for people struggling with mental health beyond self medication was art, which makes me wonder as to the position Wharton is writing this from.

she leaned back in a luxury of discontent -> The juxtaposition of 'luxury' and 'discontent' raises an important theme that wealth does not equate happiness and that Lily is not happy as a socialite but happy in the company of Selden, and that actually money is the source of Lily's unhappiness. In this specific context, she is lamenting her lack of freedom to live the lifestyle that Selden does.

"Even women," he said "Have been know to enjoy the privaledges of a flat." -> Putting the discourse marker directly after the subject of 'women' breaks it apart from the rest of the sentence and emphasises the extraordinariness of women being able to live independently. But it also raises the possibility of it and suggests that Selden thinks Lily is extraordinary and unconventional enough to achieve the possibility if she chose to.

"Oh governesses– or widows. But not girls– not poor, miserable, marriageable girls!" -> Again we have the breakdown of womanhood into distinct classes like governess, widows, and girls,which creates the idea that there's no intersections between any of them and is a reflection of of societies fixation for categorisation which loses sight the complexity of situations and problems. And it also makes it easier to place social stigmas like those on governesses and widows. Those stigmas are made apparent here but in contrast to how Lily describes girls, being a governess or a widow seems desirable.

In the list of adjectives 'poor, miserable, marriageable', marriageable is equated to these other adjectives and we see that Lily associates marriage with a poverty of kind, of the heart.

It's also interesting that Lily talks about herself as a girl where Selden speaks of her as a woman. Lily plays up her innocence as she has probably been taught to to make desirable marital match, but with that Lily carries around an air of immaturity and naïvity; she's still very child-like. Perhaps that's a part of her that's trying to cling to her youth so she doesn't have to face her future where she will need to marry to survive. Lily sees her adulthood as a constraint on her and her desires whereas Selden sees her potential.

"you mean Gerty Farish," she smiled a little unkindly. "But I said marriageable–" -> Okay so definitely a little tone deaf on Lily's part buts she's honest to a fault and her honesty is refreshing and entertaining.

I'm no expect on autism and don't claim to be but there's something about Lily's mannerisms here that reminds me of people who I know and am very close with who are autistic. And it makes me wonder if Lily was autistic and neurodivergence was recognised in her time if her fate would have been any different.

"Her cook does the washing and her food tastes if soup. I should hate that you know." -> I just love the imagery of the first sentence, it strikes my funnybone. I guess it also illustrates that Lily's privileged upbringing if she thinks this is a bad situation to live in.

Okay I'm going to bring in a bit of a technical term to describe the verb 'should'. So it's a modal verb (expressing possibility based on context) but specifically a deontic modal verbal, meaning that Lily's hate depends on social rules. When she says she should hate it it implies that society wants her to hate it but she wouldn't necessarily hate it. That's what that verb phrase implies in today's english, but language has changed since the time it was written so it may not have been written with this meaning, especially as a signifier of an older text is the use of modal verbs in places we wouldn't today and a lot more of them.

The shift from Selden's reflections to the quick dialogue and short simple sentences of action creates a lively and charged atmosphere that feels almost flirtatious in its rhythm but by the nature of the content is more domestic (preparing afternoon tea). The balanced turn taking feels comfortable in that they both have equal power in the conversation, being allowed to say what they want to and being listened to. It goes towards simulating what a possible future could be and also shows how happy they are in this moment.