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edwardsvirginity · 4 years

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At least your doing your grad school application I’m still struggling to write out my personal statement and I haven’t even mentioned the idea of recommendations to my professors

ok my personal statement was a fucking disaster and it only got written bc one of my reccomenders asked me for it, then i didn’t respond for like a week, and then they straight up emailed me again to be like ??? and it shamed me into finally writing it. but it was HARD. and honestly it’s just. not good.

my friends are baller and 2 of them have won fulbrights, and of those 2 one of them ALSO just got a rhodes scholarship, and then my BEST friend is doing peace corps, and another friend of mine is straight up employed as an editor. i mention this not just to brag on my friends (who are gr8) but also to say that my personal statement was bad enough that i sent it to ALL of them and was like “dear god please save me from myself and tell me how to make this presentable”. so now i’m just sititng here twiddling my thumbs (after sending the rough draft to my reccomender lol) waiting for them to get back to me bc i can’t bear to look at what i have and spend MORE hours struggling over it

i would definitely say u gotta talk to ur professors asap if the deadline for the application is within the next month. like, you have to give them AT LEAST 2 weeks notice to write something. i was hella nervous abt talking to my professors (both when i thought i was gonna apply my senior year of college, and now, 2 years later) but they were honestly super chill about it. writing reccomendations is part of their job so as long as you tell them far enough in advance i’m sure it won’t be a problem. i feel u tho. it’s terrifying.

my deadline is the 15th (sunday) and honestly i’ve been internally screaming for the last 2 weeks (when i started the application-- i’m THAT MUCH trash) but at least after sunday it’s out of my hands. but i also know that if i don’t have rapidly approaching deadlines for things, shit doesn’t get done. so hopefully if your deadline is still pretty far out that could be a reason you’re struggling-- bc it’s not a tight enough time frame to be motivating

i wish i could give u advice on ur personal statement, but i’m applying to grad school in france and it’s a significantly different format. american grad schools want all this weird creative shit from you and it’s kinda overwhelming. i’m not dealing with any of that bullshit and i’m still like 2 minutes away from an anxiety attack at any moment. so. i do not envy you. stay strong

best of luck anon. we gonna get this bread. we gonna get into grad school and go be successful in our chosen career fields. i believe in us.

but also anon: i will say, i tried to apply to grad school my senior year of college because i was terrified of entering the workforce and didn’t feel qualified for anything with my degree. that was a bad move. i put too much pressure on myself and straight up had multiple breakdowns. it was waaayyyy too overwhelming for me to try and do a bunch of research, apply to like 5 different places, AND do all my senior year of college stuff like write my dissertation and do well in my classes. it just was not possible for me and i should not have pretended it was. i’m really glad i waited until now (~1.5 years post-graduation) to apply, because it allowed me to get an (unglamorous) job that to my legitimate shock actually counts as really good, relevant experience on my grad school application, made me think really seriously about grad school so i don’t feel like i’m doing it just to avoid a shitty economy and workforce, proved to me that i can get a job even with just my undergrad degree, and now i know when i graduate grad school i will have ~work experience~ as well. (plus, it’s been great to be able to make some headway in paying off my undergrad loans, and save some money). and while i’m still an anxious mess about this grad school app, it’s 10x easier to apply now while i have a job than when i was in school. there’s a lot less pressure, i have more free time, i feel less overwhelmed by things generally. i know even if i don’t get in things will be ok, bc i already have a job! and i’m just applying to one grad school right now, bc i have more clarity abt what i actually want out of grad school and where i wanna be. and if i decide in the spring to apply to more grad schools, i have that option (yay for european deadlines). so i would just encourage you to think really seriously about why you’re applying now and if that’s really what you want, or if you’re just doing what me and many of my friends did and trying to avoid entering the workforce/being a real adult because you feel unprepared and scared (which is understandable!! but not a good reason to spend a bunch more money to go to grad school). even my friends who intend to pursue phds took time off between undergrad and grad school. don’t put too much pressure on yourself to have things perfectly figured out right now. if you’re struggling with your application it could be a sign. it’s always good to check in with yourself.

#anon #asks #my stepdad doens't know i'm applying to grad school #(when i've brought it up w/ my parents they've been super unsupportive)#(so i decided this is a decision i'm making on my own and they don't get to be apart of it)#and he barged into my room today and told me i was REQUIRED to decorate 3 christmas trees by TOMORROW #and i was like no??? i am super busy??>?#bc everything in my life has been put on hold till sunday #after i submit this application #and he was like what are you so busy doing??#and i was liek.........THINGS #anyway i'm mad #this tree is gonna have to fucking wait honestly #also anon i JUST finished my personal statement last night at like midnight #so it's not like i'm particularly on top of it #i have... 4-5 days left of this hell oof #grad school #sorry for the rant i have Thoughts #to everyone's surprise i'm a semi-academic adult being and not a shitpost generator #tho i will remind yall i wrote my undergrad dissertation on memes #so i'm at least 20% shitpost generator ngl #Anonymous

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twomoonstwosuns · 4 years

Text

sick day.

back to you [series masterlist]

previous part · next part

pairing: professor!poe dameron x reader

warnings: swearing, smut in a dream (18+), heavy amounts of fluff

word count: 4.0k

a/n: i’m sorry for the delay, it’s been a weird week. i hopefully won’t make you wait as long for the next part. this is kind of a filler chapter, but i hope you guys enjoy it still! the poe dameron x reader tag hasn’t been working so if you’re missing updates, blame Tumblr.

also thank you @dameronsgalaxygal for helping me when i was stuck <3

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“Baby, fuck you feel so good.”

Poe gripped your hips, sliding you to the edge of his desk and sliding his cock into you. The hand on the back of his neck tightened, grabbing some of his curls in its grasp at the intrusion. Your mouth was on the base of his neck, decorating it with different sized bruises. One particular bite to his pulse with a tight clench of your pussy made him groan loudly and you quickly pulled his mouth down to yours with a tug of his tie.

“Do we have to worry about you being loud?” You breathed heavily. Poe lifted your legs higher up on his waist, the new angle allowing him to drive deeper into you. A loud gasp left your lips as your eyes fluttered closed and a smirk crossed his face. He leaned down to your ear, taking the shell of hit in his mouth.

“You know what I’ve thought about?” He said lowly, his breath hot against your ear as he slowed his thrusts. You gave a quiet, strangled moan as a response as he bit down on it. “Taking my tie, tying you up. Completely at my mercy.”

His hand was on the side of your neck, his thumb slowly rubbing up and down the front of your throat. You were a trembling mess, the thought of him putting just a little more pressure there enough to make you come hard right on the spot.

“I could—fuck yes, Poe—get into that.” Poe’s mouth covered yours, swallowing the sounds coming from you. You giggled against his lips as an item fell off of his desk from the harsh movement against it.

A knock on his office door made you both freeze, horrified looks on your faces as you looked at each other and then at the door.

“Just a sec!” Poe yelled before dropping his voice to a whisper. “Get under my desk.”

You both scrambled as quietly as you could, pulling your pants up and fixing your shirts. You tucked yourself underneath his desk, feeling very grateful for the backing on the front of the desk. Poe tamed his hair the best he could as he unlocked his door and opened it, immediately greeting the person on the other side.

“Ackbar, how are you?”

“I’m good, I’m good, I just wanted to run something by you.” Ackbar said, nodding towards the door handle. “Who are you trying to keep out, Dameron?”

His tone was suggestive, but Poe shut it down with a shake of his head. “Some of my students like to barge in and hang out in here because of my very lenient open door policy and I have several phone calls I’m taking today. Including one in five minutes, so you have to make it quick.”

Ackbar left the door open as he sat down across from Poe’s desk. Poe sat back in his chair, scooting all the way in so his entire lower half was underneath the desk to shield you.

“So, what’s up?” Poe spoke, providing cover for the movement you were making under his desk to make room for his legs.

“What do you think about forgoing a final exam for anyone who’s averaging a C in the class?” Ackbar asked. “I mean, if they want to take the final to try and raise their overall grade they can, but if they fail it’ll count against them.”

Poe squirmed in his seat as he felt your hands on his thighs, rubbing slowly and traveling higher. His leg hit the underside of his desk when he felt the vibration of his zipper being slowly pulled down, which he told Ackbar was a muscle spasm.

“You’re teaching two hundred freshman over four lectures, you sure you want to do that?” Poe said slowly, the attempt to keep his voice level and controlled extremely difficult.

“It’s definitely less grading for me to do, but I was also thinking that—“

Everything Ackbar was saying was going in Poe’s ear and right out the other as the soft skin of your hand made contact with his cock, applying firm pressure and pumping him. He wasn’t entirely soft yet and a few strokes of your hand brought him back to fully hard. He coughed to cover the groan that almost erupted from him.

“Here’s my opinion,” Poe said, interrupting Ackbar, sucking in a breath as your thumb brushed over the head of his cock. “I’d do it for seniors but freshman? They’ll most likely take the easy way out and skip it. Don’t let them settle for mediocre grades. Not one of them will willingly take the final.”

“Alright, you’re right.” Ackbar put his hands up in surrender. Poe felt his cock start to tighten up, the thought of coming in your hand under the desk with Ackbar just a few feet away stoking a fire inside him. Instead, Poe felt you carefully tuck him back in his pants and skillfully disguised the deep groan he let out as one of agreement. “You catching the game later?”

“I’m going to try.” Poe looked at his watch. “Sorry man, I have to take a call in a minute.”

“No worries,” Ackbar stood up, Poe doing the same and straightening his shirt so it covered more of his groin area as he walked towards the door. “You wanna grab a beer at Maz’s later? Watch the game?”

“Yeah, sounds good.”

Ackbar shook Poe’s hand and patted him on the back. “Have fun with those calls. Take it easy, Dameron.”

As soon as the door shut and the lock clicked, Poe let out an exasperated laugh. You crawled out from under his desk laughing so hard that you had to lean against his desk to keep yourself from falling over. Poe came around to his desk again, laughing as he plopped back into his chair.

“I can’t believe you did that,” he said in disbelief, though the smile on his face said he wasn’t the least bit upset about it.

“Exhilarating though.” You leaned down and pecked his lips, your hands going back to his pants and unbuckling them for the second time as you got on your knees.

“Let me finish what I started.”

Poe woke with a jolt as a cough rocked through him, groaning at the congested pain it left behind in his chest. His eyes screwed shut and his groan grew louder at how turned on he felt at that moment, knowing he had no energy to take care of it and no energy to enjoy you taking care of it for him. Poe looked up just as you came in, a cup of water in one hand and a sleeve of crackers in the other. You set the items on his nightstand and sat on the edge of his bed, rubbing his back.

“You ok?”

“No,” he said, shoving his head into the pillow. “I was having a good dream about you.”

“Oh yeah?” Poe pushed his hips into the mattress, looking for relief. You stifled a laugh. “Oh, that kind of dream. Do you want me to help you out?”

“No, ‘m too tired.”

You leaned down to his ear, your voice lowering. “You know, I have those dreams about you too.”

Poe reached over and squeezed your thigh. “Y/N…”

“Baby…” you mocked his whine. Poe shivered and you saw goosebumps appear on his skin. You placed your hand against his forehead and then the cheek that wasn’t resting on the pillow. “You might have a fever, do you have a thermometer?”

“I don’t think so.”

You went into his bathroom and looked for anything that would help. You found some ibuprofen and you helped him sit up enough to swallow them. Pulling the blanket up around him, you leaned down and kissed his head.

“Sleep. I’ll be in the living room if you need me.”

You left the door opened a crack, enough to hear if he needed you and for Beebs to come and go as he pleased. He was already snoring by the time you got to his kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea.

You knew Poe wasn’t feeling great when you talked to him the night before and you were surprised when you got an email saying he was canceling class. In the two semesters worth of classes you’d had with him, he’d never canceled a class without notice. You skipped your last class of the day and went straight to Poe’s. He tried to argue with the very little energy he had that you didn’t have to skip class to take care of him, but the minute you got him to lay in bed, he was completely submissive.

Your phone vibrated in your pocket with an incoming call and you grabbed it to see it was Jessika calling.

“I’m at the grocery store, do you need anything?”

“Actually yeah, do you mind picking up some things to make soup and dropping them off at Poe’s? He’s sick and he has nothing here to help him feel better.”

“Yeah you bet, send me a text?”

“I will. I’ll send you his address too. Text me when you get here.”

“No problem, see you in a bit.”

You tossed your phone onto the table and grabbed your backpack, setting yourself up on his couch. You had a long list of things that needed to get done, midterms coming up quicker than you were prepared for. You also had to order your robe for graduation so you had time to get it hemmed if needed. But an assignment that was due the next day required your immediate attention. You opened your book and you’re notebook and dove right in.

Fifteen minutes later and you’d read the same paragraph four times. You alternated between staring at your book and tapping your pen against the page to staring to scrolling through apps on your phone. There was no motivation to do anything productive. What you really wanted to do was curl up with Poe under his blankets and just sleep, but you were already risking getting sick by being there and cuddling with him would pretty much guarantee it. Throwing your stuff aside, you walked over to the shelves that lined Poe’s living room, seeing if there was maybe a book he had that would be far more interesting than reading about marketing and trade shows. You looked through all the titles of his books, some maybe’s coming to your head when you spotted a picture frame stuck between a book and the back of the shelf. You carefully moved the book, grabbing the picture frame and wiping the dust off of the glass.

He looked just like her. Thick and curly raven-hair sat on top their heads. They shared the same eyes, deep brown like milk chocolate, though hers were just a bit lighter. Their smiles matched, easy and laidback like it took no effort at all. You recognized the ring on her finger as the one worn around Poe’s neck. In the picture, Poe was mid-laugh as his mother carried him on her back, his tiny arms wrapped around her neck and his head against hers. You felt a pang of guilt in your chest. The way Poe talked about her and seeing the picture that you found, they were clearly very close. You couldn’t even begin to imagine how devastated Poe must’ve been when she passed.

Poe had said he’d forgiven you for what you said, but you still hadn’t forgiven yourself. If you were being honest with yourself, you didn’t know if you’d be able to.

Your phone vibrated in your hand, the message telling you that Jessika had arrived. You told her the code to enter the building and a few minutes later, there was a knock on the door.

“Thank you so much for doing this,” you said as you opened the door, immediately taking the bag from your roommate.

“No problem at all.”

Jessika looked around behind you, her eyes curious. You chuckled and held the door open.

“Come on in.”

“Inside a professor’s apartment,” Jessika said as she stepped in. She looked around the room when Beebs came up and jumped on her. You tried to apologize and tell Beebs to stop but Jessika just leaned down and picked him up.

“Ah, the infamous Beebs,” she laughed as he licked her face. “You really are cute, aren’t you?”

You stepped into the kitchen and put a couple bottles of gatorade in the refrigerator, leaving out the ingredients to start making soup with and digging around the cupboards for the items you’d need to make it.

“So, what’s he sick with?” Jessika asked.

“A cold from what I can tell. He doesn’t have a thermometer so I don’t know if he has a fever.”

“How’s he doing?”

You sighed heavily. “Poe’s amazing and wonderful in many ways, but he is still a man who thinks he’s dying because he has a cold.”

“You hear that, Beebs?” Jessika said in Beebs’ pointed ear. “He’s got a man-cold. And they’re supposed to be the superior sex.”

“Yeah, supposed to be.”

Beebs wiggled in her arms and she let him down, watching him walk off. You watched Jessika laugh quietly at the adorable dog before looking back around the apartment, giving a small nod of approval.

“Hey Jess?” You spoke quietly, your voice hesitant and unsure. You walked over to Jessika, who had been looking at you with a questioning look. “I’m sorry.”

Jessika opened her mouth to speak and you put a hand up. “I’m sorry for being a bitch, for treating you like shit, and taking forever to forgive you. You said things and I said things and even though what you said hurt, it doesn’t mean you’re a terrible person and I’ve been treating you like you were. And I’m really sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry.” Jessika replied and you shook your head.

“Yes, I do.”

“Well, I forgive you then. Because I’ve missed you.”

Holding your arms out, Jessika met you in a tight hug. You really had missed her too. She had been there for you when she didn’t have to be, and thinking back you were surprised she was because you felt you had treated her like shit. Beebs jumping up on both your legs trying to be included in the hug tore you apart, Jessika leaning down and scratching his ears.

“When we’re done with school and all that and it’s fine for you guys to be in public together, I’d really love to sit down with Prof—Poe.” Jessika said, the use of his first name foreign on her tongue but the effort graciously appreciated by her friend. “You know, get to know him. As one of your best friends, it is my job to tell him that if he hurts you I’ll destroy him.”

You chuckled. “I’m sure we could arrange that if you really want to. I’ve met his friends, seems only fair that he gets to know mine.”

“Exactly!” Jessika said. “Alright, I have to get going. I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah, I have class a 7:45a.m and he needs to sleep, so I’ll be back later tonight.”

Jessika squeezed your shoulder as she passed and you thanked her once more before she left. You set to work, setting up everything you’d need and pulling up the recipe saved on your phone.

Chopping vegetables in your boyfriend’s kitchen was oddly domestic, like you were waiting for him to come home from work and you were cooking dinner. You wondered what you would be doing at that very moment had you not pursued your professor that Halloween night. Would you have given Ben another chance? Would you be in a relationship at all? You pondered the what if’s, yet each scenario couldn’t bring you to the level of happiness that was your reality. You really thought you had lost it all during that fight and you would never go another day without being grateful to Poe for forgiving you.

As you added all the ingredients together, your mind went to the dark place you tried so hard to push to the back of your mind. Graduation was just two months away. What was going to happen after your relationship graduated and the lease for your apartment was up and you moved back home? Poe certainly didn’t act like he would dump the relationship just because you were done with school, but you couldn’t help but think that way. You copped it up to having developed a small fear of abandonment, no doubt thanks to the sudden departure of your father.

Slow, heavy footsteps filled the empty silence as you adjusted the temperature on the cooker. Poe slid his arms around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder.

“You didn’t sleep very long,” you said.

“Can’t sleep anymore. Smells good,” Poe mumbled, leaning into you to see what was in the cooker. You gently bumped your head against his.

“I’m glad you can smell,” you said. “It’s my grandma’s recipe. My mom used to make it for Tallie and I when we were sick. It’s done now, eat some. You need to eat.”

You moved around each other, him scooping up soup and you grabbing him something to drink.

“Did I have all of this stuff?” Poe asked, looking at all the ingredients he could see in the soup as he walked to sit on the couch.

“No, Jessika dropped off stuff. You have nothing here,” you teased, taking a seat next to him. Your expression turned a little more serious. “She wants to sit down and talk with you, you know. Get to know you. When the school year’s over. If that’s ok with you.”

“I’d like that,” he said, taking in a spoonful of soup and groaning at how nice it felt against his sore throat. “I didn’t know you could cook.”

“I still have some secrets left,” you smirked. “I’m glad you’re feeling better enough to eat something. I was starting to worry a little bit.”

“I’m hoping I can kick this in a few days. I’d hate to cancel class again.” You assured Poe that no one would be mad if he did, to which he laughed and then immediately coughed. You hoped he’d be able to get rid of it soon, too. “You’re going to Cabo for spring break, right?”

“Yeah, with a few girlfriends from high school. Why?”

“I just forgot.” There was something about the tone of his voice that sounded nervous, but he didn’t say anything else. You and him had discussed your spring break plans and you knew he was going to California for a few days with Finn and Rey.

“So, I’m—“ Poe started, pausing to figure out how he was going to ask what he wanted. You urged him to continue. “After California, I’m spending a few days at my dad’s. If you can make it work, would you want to spend two or three of those days with me?”

Your mouth dropped and a small smile started to form on your face.

“You want me to meet your dad?” Poe shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal, but it was to him. And it was to you too.

“Yeah, I do,” he said, putting his near empty bowl on the coffee table. You were happy to see he was able to finish most of it. “I was thinking you could fly out Thursday and we’d get a late flight back here on Saturday night so the chances of running into people from here are slim.”

“That’s very specific, how long have you been thinking about this?”

“Since we last talked about spring break. I just didn’t know how to ask you.”

“Were you scared to ask me?”

“I thought it might be too soon to be meeting family.”

“It might be,” you said softly and Poe nodded in understanding, but his face fell a little. You placed your hand on his leg. “But I still want to.”

“Yeah?”

You nodded and Poe’s face lit up. This was so important to him, like meeting his friends had been. And it stirred something in your chest that he already wanted you to meet his dad. It gave you more hope for your future together. “I’ll call my friends tomorrow and see if we can figure it out.”

Poe put his hand on top of yours and squeezed it, not exactly what he wanted to do but trying not to heighten your chances of getting sick. “I’ll get the soup put away, do you want to watch a movie before you leave?”

You nod and get up at the same time as him, grabbing the blanket from the floor and stretching out on the couch. You opened up Netflix and scrolled through, deciding on a movie that you’d both seen before in case Poe fell asleep. Poe turned a couple lights off as he came back, taking the blanket from you and settling between you and the couch. Half of his body laid on top of yours, legs tangled together and his cheek resting in the middle of your stomach. His arm laid along your other side, hand curved in so his fingers grazed against your side. You were his body pillow and you didn’t mind one bit.

Poe was a physically affectionate person. He loved to be touching you in some way, from something simple like holding your hand or throwing your legs across his lap to wrapping you completely around him while you laid in bed together, limbs so intertwined you wouldn’t know where he started and you ended. You weren’t surprised to find out that Poe was extremely cuddly when he wasn’t feeling well. A lot of people got that way.

You started the movie and brought your hand up to run your fingers through Poe’s hair, gently massaging his scalp as you did. You had learned pretty quick that his hair was a weakness for him, something that both relaxed him and excited him depending on what you were doing with it.

It had only been about a month since your first date but you were so incredibly happy with Poe. You adored everything about him, especially the way he treated you. He didn’t talk to you or see you or treat you like a naive girl in her early twenties. He respected you as an equal, an adult in an adult relationship. It was so early in your relationship, but you couldn’t help but think about a future with him.

This was the real thing for you. You were young and very well aware that a lot of people your age didn’t get into serious relationships. But you really wanted this to turn into something long-term. You hoped he did too.

He had your heart; completely, fully.

“You’re staring,” Poe mumbled. You chuckled.

“I can’t help it.

He looked up at you, his chin on your stomach. “Thanks for taking care of me,” he said quietly, placing a kiss on your stomach over your shirt. You smiled softly down at him.

“Of course,” you said. “If I wasn’t, you’d be curled up in the fetal position starving and dehydrated.”

“I would not.”

“You would too. You’re such a baby when you’re sick.”

Poe nuzzled your stomach, the action making you giggle when his two day old stubble made contact with your skin. You relaxed into him, the hand that was in his hair traveling down to rub soothing circles on his back. Within thirty minutes of the movie starting, you were both fast asleep.

When you were sick with a cold a few days later, Poe was better prepared to tackle the cold. You slept in his bed all day in his bed and he took care of you the same way you did for him.

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#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron smut #poe dameron #poe dameron x y/n #back to you series #smut #modern au #modern poe dameron

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douxie-casperan · 3 years

Note

a memory of their father :)

The first few months behind the looming walls surrounding the castle’s innerworkings were proving stressful to say the least. Everything was so different to what Douxie had grown used to from the clothes he was expected to wear, the strict rules he was expected to follow and court manners which he was having additional instruction on multiple times a week on to ensure he could only ever give the best impression. When asked why this was so important the answer he received was a simple one, it is better to put your best foot forward than start on the back and have to work even harder to reach the same place. Prodding for clarification because that didn’t make much sense, after a small sigh he was informed that should anyone regardless of status discover his origins after he had already proved himself with a willingness to adapt it should not hurt his personal standing with them. Politics of the Court are like an ever evolving yet constant game of chess and by doing some of the leg work himself it would improve how people would interact with him more than relying entirely on his title of apprentice to carry him through.

To the now 10 year old it still sounded a bit silly but if it would help make life easier in the long run and given who said it, he didn’t see any reason to argue though he could not wait for those lessons to finally be over lest his head simply fall off from the amount of information he was being expected to memorise just to blend in.

Now for him the biggest novelty of being in Camelot as a citizen (?) was never having to worry about food after a lifetime of it being a constant worry and in how the kitchen staff sometimes snuck him a little bit extra for his plate or pouch and fussed as if he was one of their own. He always did try to be polite if he saw any of them, maybe that had something to do with it? Then he’d managed to try so many brand-new things already too! Lumbolls were possibly one of his favourites, those and the ryschewys though in both cases they are a bit on the special side in not being made often but whenever he got his hands on either after splitting them in half to share with Archie just like they used to while savouring each and every bite down to the last tiny pastry fleck.

His day to day duties when not indulging his ever growing sweet tooth weren’t quite what he had been expecting but he took to them with great enthusiasm anyway with an underlining fear of seeming ungrateful at the unique chance he’d been given accompanied if he did otherwise. These were often in the form of cleaning with a broom or scrubbing with a brush where directed, fetching enchantment ingredients required from the stores or occasionally elsewhere, sorting the books on shelves to finding one that might be needed and more often than not simply carrying things or acting as an extra pair of hands when the wizard needed. He didn’t mind particularly, it felt like he was being useful with the knowledge that if anybody asked he could truthfully respond that he was an errand helping the nerves. Sure they might have used the odd opportunity to do some exploring where they probably shouldn’t have been but knowing the terrain was important as was a quick escape route when knights are wandering around. Being a bit late from going the long way was a much better option than running into any of them, if the life before now had proved anything it was that being cautious was wise, the ones who disappeared were usually the ones that relied purely on luck and didn’t have at least three places to bolt for if things started to turn…

He wasn’t about to let his fear of where a mistake could lead him hold him back from doing anything but he wasn’t exactly about to ignore it completely either. Week by week his mental map was growing and most simply assumed he was getting better at navigating the halls which was true in a sense at least.

The other important note was how use of any form of magic was not permitted unless under the strict supervision of his regular lessons which included the cuff being held in Master Merlin’s workshop as a precaution both as much for himself and any who might realise it was more than for mere decoration. He was also told that if he stuck to this very important rule while being careful about how much he said beyond the closed door he would be allowed to keep his familiar with him if with an additional request that he posed as a cat. In both cases neither would be forever, it was simply important to keep up appearances and thus help ensure their safety in turn. Both figured the room they had been given Archie would be allowed to stretch his wings but they were always careful just in case someone might barge in and hoped might even be allowed to while being tutored as well soon. They were allowed to talk as long as there was no risk of being overheard mind, it was such an ingrained habit at this point neither could figure out why it needed to be brought up in the first place.

Today though was one of those that felt like the work was never done thanks to a chore list longer than a horse’s leg designed to keep him out of everyone’s hair while a big meeting was going on about things he didn’t have the privilege to hear even a hint of. Presently that left him on his hands and knees scrubbing away at the floor that had suffered more than it’s fair share of feet tracking through and was starting to become unsightly as a result with a cat, sans glasses just in case, pointing out any spot he missed while enjoying his own opportunity of being leisurely in the quiet afternoon sun. While he works it is the man who had been so curt in the morn who is currently occupying his thoughts, the same who felt like a as enigmatic now as he was the day they had first met.

"Hey Archie, is this what having a father is like?" Douxie asks suddenly out the blue whilst sounding a mite unsure, his previously focused expression turning into a frown that stares down at the brush he is holding.

"Or parent even, I don't really have any point of reference."

“Hmm? Ah, you are referring to the Master Wizard I presume.” He gets a nod in return and is given rapt attention by his charge.

“Certainly strict as one I would say and he does at least appear to have your interests at heart even if his methodology I cannot say I always agree with.”

“How so?”

“While there are times where your exact pronunciation matters such as spellwork for instance needing to be very precise and yours can lapse at times, he seems to act like any of the descriptions of usage is somehow beyond your reading comprehension unless a single sentence is stretched out by the syllable then repeated over and over until we’re all positively bored of hearing it. Quite a contrast given he still expects you to transcribe extracts to improve your handwriting ability,” comes an answer with a tail twitch.

“You will struggle to say some words in the expected manner which is more than fair but that does not mean you are unable to read anything put in front of you when it is the common language you are already used to.”

“Oh.” Douxie’s brow knits together in thought as it did make sense but there had to be a reason, never he did was without one, he’d come to realise that already.

“Unless it is something I should not be seeing yet?”

“Perhaps, it is not the impression he is giving me however. I do wonder however if he’s stalling deliberately? We are being kept in the dark there might be something else going on we are yet to be aware of.”

“Well he is the Master Wizard that must mean you have a few secrets and I am sure we will find out eventually!” He says taking a moment to give his arms a good stretch, a firm shake then goes back to scrubbing humming away a little as he does.

“It has only been a few months so far, maybe being mysterious is his big thing and it is all a test.”

“Indeed, we just might yet.”

It was late eve by the time he was finally finished with everything which had culminated in locating an older tome documenting the usage of tools from his sneaky glance at the first few pages though he darted away at the first sign of footsteps coming. Merlin had returning bringing a distinct lack of tension in his shoulders compared to what had been there for what felt like weeks causing the pair to look at one another confused not daring to say a word. The meeting is not mentioned nor is any question directed in regards to what had been accomplished either which was very unusual when he seemed to be keeping tabs on what sorts of things they had been up to when not under his feet. After checking that what he had asked was not sitting on the bench with a satisfied sound that could almost be taken as relieve, his cloak sweeps round as he takes the few steps to place a hand on the young boy’s head with a smile akin to the one he had once given at the gates causing him to blink a little bewildered.

“Well my boy, it would appear your patience has paid off. From tomorrow how do you feel in regards to learning some real magic?”

Douxie’s grin could not have been any wider if it tried.

#trollamulet #No facts truer than a good meme #Camelot of ages past

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amynchan · 7 years

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Everything

I wanted to write a Chloe-centric piece and this is what I got? Eh, hope you like it. X’D

Chloe stormed away, anger in her heart and tears threatening to even dare invade her eyes. But she wouldn’t cry. She absolutely would not. Anger was easier to deal with. She could scream and bark orders and she could probably get her daddy to pay for a spa treatment and everything would be right with the world again.

Except it wouldn’t.

The blonde grit her teeth as she barged out of the school grounds, ignoring the sounds of the street in order to harness her anger.

Anger was, after all, the easiest to deal with.

How dare she? That girl had been so easy to pick on. It had been so simple to push her around and get what she wanted out of her. Lunch money, though she had no need of it, entertainment, at the expense of her feeble self-confidence, a sense of power, which she always thrived on. It used to be so easy! The girl had never been more than trash!

So how dare such a spineless and pathetic wimp talk back to her? How dare she filch her fame? What gave her the right to speak up to Chloe in such a manner? How. Dare. She?

“Mademoiselle Bourgeois,” stated the foreman. “Are you not to be attending school?”

“I’m not going today,” snapped Chloe. “Can’t you tell I feel awful? I can’t believe daddy even let me leave my room looking this horrible!”

“Very well, Mademoiselle.”

With that out of the way, Chloe strode through the door and made her way directly to the elevator. The twinkling decorations and open foyer sometimes made her feel better, but not this time. She jammed her finger into the number for her floor.

Being in the elevator forced her to be still, so Chloe had to figure out some way to occupy herself. Brooding worked well, though she had already done quite a bit of brooding on that girl. How such a weak child that used to cry when her pigtails got pulled turned into one of the largest annoyances in Chloe’s entire elevated existence. It was ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous!

The elevator dinged and Chloe shoved her way through even before the doors had completely opened. Her rapid walking—because she was still too refined to run without an emergency—got her from point A to point B in no time and she swiftly shut the door.

Her room. Her room was safe. It was polished. It was refined and amazing. And it was absolutely hers.

Just like he should have been.

Just like he should have been!

Chloe threw her bag as far away from her as she could. What had happened? Why wasn’t he hers?! Why wasn’t anything hers!?

Presidency and popularity: ripped away from her.

The fear of her classmates and power over them: robbed from her.

The first ever true friend she had ever known in life. Utterly and completely stolen.

By that evil little witch. The stupid little girl with no backbone. The one with clothes that ripped too easily and knees that got all scratched up. That stupid little brat who dared to believe—and have everyone else believe with her—that she was the better of the two. Chloe had power. She had wealth. She had prestige. She had everything.

Knock, knock.

“Mademoiselle, I’ve brought you some soup.”

“I hate soup!” cried the girl, realizing all too late that her beautiful voice had cracked and that tears were streaming down her face.

“I realize that, mademoiselle, though your father did insist on soup if you were feeling unwell.”

Chloe pouted. Who had told her father that she was home? He would come in sometime soon to check on her, she supposed. It would probably be better to let the soup in and dump it when no one was looking. She turned to the window to avoid being seen with her mascara running.

“Come in,” ordered the girl. Her butler opened the door respectfully and set the dishes on the table in the middle of her room. As he had learned to do, he stood and waited for a dismissal. Chloe didn’t feel like giving it.

Silence reigned for a few moments. Chloe working to make sure her voice wouldn’t betray her again (not like the butler would care) and he waiting patiently for her word to leave.

“Is there anything else you require, mademoiselle?” asked he. Chloe scoffed.

“What a stupid question.” Chloe looked out of the window, her tightly held anger beginning to seep away. In its place dwelt sadness. Sadness was something she couldn’t deal with. She needed to be angry. She needed to fight something. Anything!

She thought back to the cause of all her misery. That blessed anger returned.

“It’s all that girl’s fault! She’s taken everything from me! No one fears me anymore! No one respects me! I’m higher than them! I can make their lives miserable! But she’s taken everything! And every time I try to fight back, she just takes one more thing! She takes and she takes and she takes and I hate her! Why can’t she just be like how she used to be and leave me alone!?”

Screaming was good. Screaming was therapeutic. Screaming…

…got rid of her anger.

A colorful curse word flew through her head without heat. Tears flowed freely from her eyes all she wanted was to be angry again. But she couldn’t muster up the energy.

Oh, she hated this.

And he didn’t say one word.

Good. She didn’t want to listen to him anyways. But he was there, he might as well listen to her. It’s not like he had anything better to do.

“She took Adrien…” whispered Chloe. “You think she’d be fine with turning the entire class against me. You think she’d be satisfied with humiliating me. You’d think she’d be happy with her stupid hero act that she puts on for everyone. But no. She took everything, and then she took more… Why’d she take him, too?”

Silence reigned for a moment, and Chloe took it to try and pull herself together.

She looked out the window at the meager peasants wandering about the street. Some of them hurried to work. Others were walking leisurely. Some of them walked in pairs or groups. Others walked alone.

So alone.

“Mademoiselle, if I may, perhaps it is less of a matter of her taking them than of you pushing them away.”

Indignation flooded her, but did not fuel her. The most she could muster was a glare that he would never see.

“Excuse you, I never pushed my Adrikins away. I was loving and caring and the best girlfriend he could have ever chosen!”

And didn’t.

Those two words were too sour for even her mouth, so she let them hang. Like a sopping wet coat, too dirty to even come inside.

Because the fact of the matter was that he didn’t choose her. He chose that spineless little wimp who Chloe could have easily bested in many departments. Looks, wealth, attention. He could have had it all in a nice package named Chloe. And yet he didn’t. He chose someone who looked like a kindergartener, had the allowance of a four year old, and only drooled over his looks.

Where was Marinette Dupain-Cheng when his mother disappeared?

Where was she when Adrien cried himself to sleep at their sleepovers?

Where was she when she taught him how to leave security?

Where was she when Adrien needed somebody and Chloe was the one who took him shopping?

Where was she?

Back at home with her two doting parents and puny bakery and pipe dreams that would never come true, that’s where. Chloe was there. Chloe kept him busy. Chloe loved him.

So why didn’t he choose her?

“Mademoiselle, that may perhaps be the first time I have heard you refer to any other person’s actions as a choice.”

Chloe’s head hurt. Her heart hurt. Her voice hurt. Her eyes were itchy. And she still needed to throw away that stupid soup.

“Leave.”

Her butler made no further comment and left the room as instructed. She waited until the door clicked closed quietly before turning to the table. There, on the silver platter, stood one bowl of soup and a cup of something equally warm. Irritated yet confused, Chloe picked the note up.

Ginger tea and honey.

The girl scoffed quietly, but took a sip. She wasn’t actually sick, but the warm liquid did help her throbbing head. She eyed the soup in distaste before abandoning it and walking to her bed with her cup.

After all, she hated soup.

#Miraculous Ladybug #Adrientte #slight mention #Chloe #AmyNChanstories #butler #he's a cool dude #it got away from me #I'm sorry

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irescot · 7 years

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Scotland Tour - Day 3 (8/29)

First off, I've been wanting to say this since we got to Edinburgh, but keep forgetting to mention it. I think that Irish and Scottish drivers are terrific. They manage to drive side by side in these teeny weeny lanes and not get in each other's way. In addition, they are very polite drivers in that they hardly ever honk, and they stop for others when doing so would make the other person's passage easier (or even possible). Hats off to them!

Also, as a side observation, while some of the Irish people were "-ish" when it came to time, that was not the case in Scotland. Everyone we dealt with was right on time.

Lastly, my pictures from now on are going to feature a lot of landscapes; I've never met a landscape I didn't like, particularly if there are photogenic clouds involved. So just keep going to another picture that gives more context to the post. The other sad thing is that sometimes the pictures are in the reverse order than what I described because of the way photos are uploaded and sorted in my PC, and then by Shutterfly. Nothing I can do about that.

Okay, back to the tour. Toda we leave Edinburgh and head for St. Andrews, then Pitlochry and finally to a town in the Scottish Highlands, where we'll stay two nights (yay!).

We travel North out of Edinburgh and cross the Firth of Forth on the bridge we say earlier from the train. Our guide tells us that there was a famous disaster here when the train bridge sank, killing all aboard. When they rebuilt it, they left little pieces of the old bridge as a memorial to those killed. Then we go along the coast for a bit (just like on the train) and then go on to St. Andrews.

St. Andrews is not famous just as the self-titled home of golf, where golf first started, but it is also the name of the town that's nearby, that in addition to being very pretty, contains the University of St Andrews. Among other claims to fame, Prince William attended St. Andrews. He and the royal family wanted a place where he could get a first rate education, but not be in a famous place like Oxford or Cambridge where he would be in the public eye constantly. They chose St Andrews and the media even cooperated, leaving him alone while there. He apparently met Kate Middleton there, and gossip has it that they split, but reconnected later on during William's stay.

St. Andrews's was founded in 1413 and is the third oldest university in the English-speaking world. Almost 80 years before America was discovered. We drove around the town after we finished with the golf course.

St. Andrews (golf and town) are by the sea; that's maybe not news to most of you, but I was surprised. It has a nice little beach.

As you come into the St. Andrew's golf course, one of the first things you see is a statue of two horses, called Kelpies. The Kelpies were mythological beasts that possessed the strength and endurance of 10 horses. They represent the heavy horses that pulled the wagons, ploughs, barges and coalships (in the canals), the essence of Scottish industry.

St. Andrews has The Old Course, i.e., the original golf course and The Old Course Hotel runs alongside it. But nowadays there are 7 courses in total and they are all public. There are 6 additional courses in the area, and they are also all public. Apparently now someone is building or thinking of building another one, a high-end one, that would be a membership-only course, and furthermore, by invitation only. This does not sit well with the locals because they now pay around 180 pounds for a one-year membership at any of the public courses. That is the cost of one round of golf, so it's a heck of a bargain.

One wall at the course is called the Faces of Golf and features a lot of famous players.

We went on to Pitlochry, a small village on the shores of the River Tummel. It was made famous by Queen Victoria when she fell in love with the Scottish Highlands, she told everyone that it was one of the finest resorts in Europe and people started flocking to it. We mostly walked around a main street with lots of shops and restaurants, but not really a lot to see. We ate at one of the restaurants and it was just okay. Other people did some shopping as well.

Today was one of the days when we had an Optional Experience; these are activities for which you pay extra, but take you (in theory at least) to interesting places. So this afternoon those of use who selected the Optional Experience were taken to Blair Castle, home of the Duke of Atholl - the only man in Britain to have a private army. So while the rest of the people had more time to spend in Pitlochry, we went on.

Blair Castle is, in contrast to most castles, painted white. It is surrounded by really nice scenery. They let you take pictures outside, but not inside. We had to wait a while outside, as they like to leave a little room between groups so that there are no crushes.

We trudged up and down the castle and visited several anterooms, bedroom, sitting rooms, music room, dressing rooms, etc. After a while it got to be too much walking for me and I went through the rest of the exhibits as fast as I could. Of all I saw and heard, this is what I remember. The main room you come into from the grounds is covered in weaponry, every inch of every wall has halberds, swords, muskets, and other weapons, as well as a bunch of antlered deer heads. Clearly a man decorated this room. A woman was heard to tell her husband that there was no way he was going to do that at home.

I also remember a room filled with awards that were interesting by the many different designs that the awards had.

The last item I remember is that the current duke (the 12th) had to be found by going up and across the family tree because there were no direct male descendants. So a guy who is a computer programmer in South Africa became the Duke of Atholl. Carol was trying to picture him at a bar trying to pick up a young lady by telling her that he was a programmer, and the 12th Duke of Atholl. She ran with this idea, and it was very funny.

While we were in the castle, our driver Eddie went to pick up everyone else and brought them to the castle; when they arrived, we hopped aboard and kept on with the regular tour. Next stop was the place where we were going to spend 2 nights.

We passed a lot of reasonably flat areas, with mountains way in the background, and lots of pastures for sheep (mostly), cows, and horses. Lots of areas are very rocky and there you tend to see a lot of rock fences, which are made from rocks found in the pasture which have to be removed. They are fitted together without mortar. That makes it "easy" when there is a need to move animals from one pasture to another, to remove a part of the wall, get the herd moved, and then rebuild the wall. In other places they use lines of trees, or rows of hedges, or even posts and bailing wire.

The hills varied from just rocky crags with moss growing here and there, to very forested, to forested partway up the hill and nude above, and anything else in between. But always looking beautiful and changing as the light changed. There were great cloud formations wherever you looked.

We arrived at the place where we were staying, called Laggan House, a hotel in the middle of nowhere, but nestled in a lovely setting. It rained as we were arriving and as we enter the main lodge, they started assigning room numbers. Most were in the main lodge, but there were also a couple of cottages a little off to the side. We ended up in a biggish room with a gigantic bathroom (which is why I took the picture). The only caveat I had is that the floors creaked with practically every step and I tried to float, but it didn't work. Later on I was able to see that there were no other bedrooms underneath the rooms on my side, and I felt better.

There was going to be another Optional Experience, this time a Highland Farm Experience, where we would meet Neil and his border collies, who would show us how he could command the dogs with various whistling and words, and get the sheep rounded up, moved from one place to another, split up into two groups, and other maneuvers. This was a "weather permitting" activity, so Gary our tour guide checked the weather where Neil was located, and he said it was not supposed to rain.

Off we went to see Neil. He was pretty amazing; he had 6 or so border collies and they couldn't wait to get to work. He had general commands for everyone, and he had individual command for each, the general mostly words, and the individual with his whistling. Dogs have very keen hearing, so they were able to obey commands that he spoke in a low voice while they were on the other end of the pasture. It was a very entertaining show.

Then he told us about shearing. Most of it is done with electric shear during the summer, leaving them a little bit of coat so that they wouldn't go into the cold with nothing. When an animal went missing and was not caught until later, then they used shearing scissors. He had his son (13?) start shearing a sheep. When they grab a sheep for shearing, it looks like they are being handled with a lot of force and violence, but the sheep don't put up a fight or look particularly discomfited. The sheep are heavy, so to turn them on their back required a bit of heaving and dragging. He started shearing another animal, and after a few cuts, opened it to anyone who wanted to experience it. Mind you, he didn't just hand the shears to someone and let go of the animal, but the held the animal and guided the person hand in making the cuts. Several people volunteered to go, including Carol.

By this time I was tired and went to sit in the bus and my timing was impeccable as it started to rain harder. It had drizzled a little, on and off, during the demonstration, but this was serious, and so it was over and everyone piled onto the buses (there were two other busloads there to witness the demonstration).

On the way home, some more shots of different types of terrains and some typical houses.

There was water all around, pooling, streaming, creating temporary waterfalls, rivulets and mud puddles.

Lots of lochs or lakes around, there's a string of them running to the North Atlantic, that are salt water and some are tidal lochs. Other are further away and are fresh water.

Since we've been in the Highlands, the mountains have moved closer.

And that's it for Day 3 (8/29) of the Scottish Tour.

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