#i thought that after i was done with my previous school year i'd finally get a break | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

weemssapphic · 6 months

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I see you opened your requests hehehe. This little idea popped into my head and i can’t get it out. So it’s larissa x reader and r is the new principal since everyone thought larissa died but tn tn tnnnn she’s alive and she comes back to nevermore but only as a professor since they already hired r which doesn’t sit right with larissa and she automatically doesn’t like r. So they bicker all the time until they just hate fuck one day (how it came to that point is totally up to you) and pleaseeee i need them to fuck the shit out of eachother. Then when it’s done r admits that she would much rather just be a professor, that being principal is too much for her and she’ll back down from the position.

Anywaysss that’s it and make it as long as you want if you decide to write it :) (love all of your work btw)

A/N: I AM SO SORRY FOR HOW LONG THIS TOOK (*hides in shame*). I do hope this makes up for it, I found it very fun to write and, though it took a different turn than I'd originally planned, I am happy with how it turned out! And thank you so much 🤍

like a candle flame

Larissa Weems x f!reader

Words: ~ 7.5k | ao3 link in title

Content/warnings: angst, lots of bickering and arguments, enemies to lovers (sorta), unhealthy relationship / power dynamic, coma, mentions of ptsd/anxiety??, nsfw (smut): hate sex, rough sex, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, marking

Principal of Nevermore Academy: it certainly had a nice ring to it.

The past years all led up to this: after finishing university and getting your masters in education, you’d scored a teaching position at a school for outcasts in California. Being an outcast yourself, you were grateful for the opportunity that had opened up - teaching was a passion of yours, certainly, but teaching outcasts, kids like you, that was a dream come true. Eventually, you took over assistant principal duties at the school and you had to admit you liked the change of pace, being involved in the administrative side of things for once.

During your time in California, you’d set your eye on Nevermore Academy - another prestigious school for outcasts, the first school of its kind. And when you’d heard of an opening for a new principal? You just had to apply. The position was posted at rather short notice - apparently, there had been an incident involving the previous principal, who’d been in a coma for weeks and hadn’t shown any signs of recovering. They needed to find someone to fill in for the new school year - fast - and, as though it were fate, your application was immediately accepted.

The school year at Nevermore had been going on for a few weeks now and your new office was finally starting to feel like your own. You’d made a few changes in decoration - some of the prior principal’s decor was a bit odd for your taste. But you were settling in well, getting to know your duties and connecting with your staff and students.

You were just catching up on some emails as the door to your office flew open, rattling in its hinges and causing you to jump, your heart racing.

“Jesus, you scared me! Haven’t you heard of knocking?” You fixed your gaze on the woman who had so unceremoniously barged into your office and was now taking long strides towards your desk. She was a stunning woman - tall, with long legs; dressed to the nines; her hair nearly white and perfectly coiffed to accentuate her cheekbones; her eyes deep blue and sparkling with a deep fury.

“I don’t have to knock to enter my own office,” the woman hissed, her tone venomous.

Your brows knit together in confusion and you squinted at her, your mind going a mile a minute. Now that you thought of it, she did look vaguely familiar… Who the fuck- oh. Oh.

“You’re the former principal, aren’t you? I thought you were in a coma?” You figured the polite thing to do would be to ask how she’s doing, show some sign of concern, but she looked perfectly fine to you - and she didn’t seem in the mood to engage in small-talk, anyway - so you bit your tongue.

The woman’s eyes flashed dangerously, her upper lip twitching as she tilted her head. “Principal Weems. Headmistress of Nevermore Academy. Now if you’d be so kind as to get out of my chair…”

You stood slowly, placing your hands on your desk and leaning forward. While you didn’t quite match her height, you’d be damned if you let yourself be intimidated - you’d worked too hard for this position, wished for it too much, you wouldn’t let her take it from you, no matter who she thought she was.

“I’ve been appointed principal of Nevermore. This is now my office. If you have an issue with that, I’d like to kindly refer you directly to the school board.” You paused, raising an eyebrow and sorting some papers on your desk. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have meetings to prepare for.”

Principal Weems glowered down at you and you glared up at her, neither one of you seeming to want to back down. Her eyes flicked between your own, blazing with fury and passion in equal measure. Abruptly and without another word, she turned on her heel and stormed out of your office, slamming the door behind her.

Your eyes followed her every move as you stared after her, your heart thundering in your chest. The nerve of that woman. This was definitely not something you’d planned for - you hoped she wouldn’t cause too much trouble with the school board.

~~~

As expected, you received a call from the school board the next day - it seemed that the former principal had caused a bit of an uproar after she’d left your office. The head of the school board informed you that Ms. Weems, formerly Principal Weems, would be appointed to Nevermore as a history teacher. You figured the decision was made due to her connection with the school, but also to keep the peace. Even based on your short interaction from the previous day, you could guess the kind of hell she’d raised after leaving your office.

Given that her former quarters, which had been locked up for the time being, were attached to your new office, Ms. Weems would be appointed new quarters in the teacher’s hall as well until the end of the school year. What this meant, however, was that she would have to come by your office to pick some of her things up from her old quarters - which you were not looking forward to.

It was nearing 5 pm on a Friday - you still had a pile of administrative paperwork waiting to be completed, but you couldn’t concentrate for the life of you. You’d already cut your lunch break short to deal with the shenanigans of some students, and with the weekend so close your motivation to read through the documents the mayor had sent you was at an all time low. Slipping your phone from your pocket, you decided a break - just a short distraction, really - was in order, and started to scroll through your socials.

The door to your office creaked open - you figured it was a student who needed something and raised your head to reprimand them for forgetting to knock, only to be met with the sight of Ms. Weems. Larissa, as you’d read in her file. A beautiful name for an admittedly beautiful woman - too bad she seemed intent on loathing you. She stopped in the doorway, her lips curling into a disapproving frown.

“Hard at work, I see,” she sneered, closing the door behind her and giving you a once over, her eyes full of disdain as they lingered on the cell phone in your hands.

“I hardly see how this is any of your business,” you replied, your voice hard as you scowled back at her. Two could play at this game. “And if I may be so blunt, it’s rather rude not to knock before you enter someone else’s office. Particularly when that person is your superior.”

The blonde’s features hardened even further, her expression changing from disdainful to downright icy.

“Do not underestimate my connections in this town, Ms. Y/L/N. It would be a shame to see you lose your new position so suddenly.” Her voice was condescending, sickeningly sweet with a razor sharp edge to it - you tightened your grip on your phone, your knuckles turning white as you felt your heart begin to pound viciously.

“Is that a threat, Ms. Weems? And, while we’re on the subject of my position, I would prefer if you would address me as Principal Y/L/N from now on.”

“Not a threat. A promise.”

With that, she swept past your desk with an elegant yet powerful stride, swiftly unlocking the door to her former quarters and disappearing inside.

After what seemed like ages, Larissa emerged with two massive suitcases. You tried to ignore her and concentrate on your work, but it seemed she was deliberately being as noisy as possible, and that made it increasingly difficult to focus on anything else.

“You know what?” You stood from your desk, shutting your laptop and grabbing your phone and keys. “I’m going to head out to get some dinner. You just figure this” you gestured vaguely towards her quarters as you crossed the office “out.”

“Chivalrous,” Larissa remarked sarcastically as your hand rested on the doorknob - you turned and raised an eyebrow.

“You’ve been nothing but rude to me since the second we met. You want help? Call your friends or connections or something.” With that, you disappeared into the corridor, slamming the poor door behind you and missing the way Larissa’s face fell.

~~~

By the time you got back to your office late that night to lock up (and you’d taken your sweet time, not in the mood for any more altercations), Larissa was gone.

You barely slept that night - you were restless, tossing and turning constantly. You hated arguing with people - particularly your colleagues, which Larissa now was. Tomorrow was to be her first full day back at Nevermore, and it left you feeling unsettled and anxious.

Against all odds, the following morning was a quiet one. You’d half expected Larissa to barge into your office before lunchtime to scream at you about something, but no such outburst occurred. You’d gotten ahead of yourself, however - late that afternoon, the door to your office burst open, the tall blonde once again stalking towards your desk.

“Still having problems with the concept of knocking, I see,” you hissed, clenching your teeth.

Larissa glowered down at you, completely disregarding your statement - save for the subtle twitch of her upper lip.

“You really should adjust your tone when speaking with your staff, Principal Y/L/N.” She spat the word 'principal' at you as if it were laced with venom. “One might otherwise get the impression that you don’t respect them.” The right corner of Larissa’s lips curled up slightly into a condescending smile, and you felt a raging heat begin to boil in the pit of your stomach.

“It’s clear you don’t respect me, Ms. Weems,” you replied as coolly as you could. “But we both know that insulting me, no matter how much joy it may bring you, is not the reason you barged into my office. So. Why are you really here?”

“The planning of this year’s Rave’N.”

You raised an eyebrow, leaning back in your chair and clasping your hands together on your lap as you waited for Larissa to continue.

“As you may know, Nevermore Academy has been built on a centuries old history of tradition. I have spent my career upholding those traditions that make up the very heart of this school, to uplift our students, our faculty, and our community.”

You ran your tongue along your upper teeth - you already knew where she was going with this, and you had to fight the urge to groan and roll your eyes.

“So imagine my surprise, and dare I say disappointment, when I found out that our new dearly beloved principal was planning on canceling the Rave’N. An activity that our students greatly look forward to and that is essential to this school’s extra-curricular framework…” Larissa trailed off, her own eyebrow quirked in challenge as icy blue eyes flashed dangerously.

Taking a moment to collect yourself, you let out a long sigh - God, this woman was irritating. “Ms. Weems, I have absolutely no intention of canceling the Rave’N. I am, however - as you may have heard - postponing it until the spring. I’m not certain where you got your information, but you may want to check your sources before you go around rashly pointing fingers at people.”

Larissa folded her arms defensively across her chest, her cheeks slowly turning red in hue. “The Rave’N has been held on the same weekend every year for nearly 200 years. What made you decide to break tradition?”

“It’s my humble opinion, Ms. Weems, that it isn’t working well at all. The Rave’N, the way it has traditionally been held, has consistently taken place a few short weeks before end of semester exams, squeezed unceremoniously between other events that are far more important for the Academy. The Poe Cup, for one - which is steeped in history, as you may rightfully agree, and which encourages healthy competition amongst our students. And, of course, Parent’s Weekend, which is essential for nurturing our wider outcast-community and involving our dear parents and alumni. The Rave’N, in contrast, is a frivolous school dance which, whilst certainly entertaining, wastes precious time that students could spend studying for their exams.”

Larissa looked like she was damn close to exploding on the spot. Her nostrils flared as she stared you down, her expression nothing short of disdain and utter disgust. When she spoke, red lips curled around brilliantly white teeth, which flashed dangerously in the light of the setting sun from the window behind you.

“I will not have you ruining this school, a place I have devoted my entire existence to, whilst you waltz in here and decide that it isn’t up to your arbitrary standards. Just because you don’t have the experience required to run a school and juggle multiple events at once, does not mean that they have been poorly planned. Rather, I believe this situation reflects your own shortcomings as an administrator.”

“Fine.” You grit your teeth - you’d have fired the woman on the spot if she hadn’t weaseled her way in through the school board. “You want to have your precious Rave’N this fall? You plan it then. I, however, want no part in it.”

Larissa let out a snort. “It’s nothing I can’t manage. And not to worry, I’ll leave you out of it.” With that, she turned and stalked back to the door, her hips swaying in an irritatingly tantalizing way - it made you furious.

“Oh, and Ms. Weems? If you barge into my office to insult me one more time, I will not hesitate to take this up with the school board.”

Larissa’s shoulders tensed and her hand paused on the door handle - then she yanked the door open and, once again, slammed it behind her.

Ridiculous.

~~~

Although Larissa had since refrained from bursting into your office unannounced for a verbal sparring match, the bickering continued full-force. You’d hoped it would get better as time went on, but the opposite proved to be true.

Thoughts of Larissa had begun to plague you wherever you went. You couldn’t avoid her - she was everywhere. She argued with you during every staff meeting, made a point to pass you in the hall every chance she got, chose a seat directly within your line of vision during lunchtime - taunting you wherever you went. You’d started to hide in your office during breaks simply to find some reprieve.

You’d even lie awake in bed at night, unable to get the infuriating blonde out of your head. The worst part was, it wasn’t just your anger and anxiety over the arguments and the disrespect that kept you from sleeping - it was the fact that, despite it all, you couldn’t get over the strange pull that you felt towards this woman, even as you’d begun to hide from her like a coward.

She was driving you utterly mad, in every sense of the word. When she argued with you, baring her teeth, her face contorted with rage, you wanted to slap her. Then, and it took you a few sleepless nights to admit it to yourself, you wanted to kiss her - you wanted to consume her, to smudge her lipstick and litter her body in purple marks, to push her up against a wall and fuck the rage out of her. You wanted to see the arrogant, furious, domineering Larissa Weems turn into a needy little slut, utterly at your mercy and begging you to cum, to please, please, let me cum-

You groaned in frustration, slipping a hand under the covers and into your underwear. Your cunt was absolutely drenched and you couldn’t take it anymore, rubbing hard and fast circles around your clit as you felt both shame and pleasure overwhelm you. Your imagination was your best friend as you pictured Larissa: her face flushed, her lipstick smeared down her chin, her milky thighs trembling and clenching around your hand as she rode your fingers - sinful moans being ripped from her throat because of you.

Your orgasm washed over you as you reached your peak - it came and went, and you pulled your fingers from your underwear and wiped them on the sheets. Embarrassment and regret welled up inside of you as you laid there alone in the darkness of your quarters, unable to stop your thoughts from drifting towards a certain former principal and what she might be doing in her quarters.

Sleeping, probably, you thought bitterly.

~~~

Each week proved to be more trying than the last, and you found yourself, more nights than not, lying awake until ungodly hours thinking about Larissa - touching yourself because of Larissa. The harder she made your life, the more you seemed to be consumed by her - and then, the next hurdle was thrown your way.

Part of your duty as principal was, of course, conducting performance evaluations of your staff. Since you were new at Nevermore and unfamiliar with the staff members, you’d had to pop into parts of their classes to observe and get a feel for their teaching - and most of the teachers welcomed this with open arms.

Larissa Weems was not like most of the teachers, though. Given how often she’d shown up in your office unannounced, you’d had no qualms about randomly popping into her last class of the day, closing the door gently behind you and taking a seat in the back row.

Larissa stopped teaching immediately, her proud, tender smile slipping from her face when she saw your face among the sea of students. “Can I help you, Principal Y/L/N?” Her voice quavered slightly, and the students turned around curiously, their eyes darting between you and Larissa.

“Don’t mind me, Ms. Weems,” you said with a forced smile. “I’m just observing for today. Just pretend I’m not even here.” You gave her a wink which had her lip twitching and her nostrils flaring - the tension between the two of you did not go unnoticed by the students, who were eerily quiet as Larissa resumed her lesson.

Before you’d made your presence known, Larissa had been smiling so warmly at her students - it was obvious how much she cared for them, and the energy in her classroom had felt inviting and kind. The shift in energy when you’d sat down was alarming - Larissa had turned into an ice queen almost instantly. You could tell she felt uncomfortable and tense, and her teaching was robotic and distracted. Her students didn’t seem to be very engaged either - it seemed that her mood had rubbed off on them, and a feeling of unease blanketed the room.

When the lesson was over, Larissa immediately turned to her desk to pack her things, her students filing out of the room in silence.

“Ms. Weems, I’d like to see you in my office in twenty minutes, please. I have something I’d like to discuss with you.” You didn’t wait for a reply before slipping out of the classroom and hurrying to your office.

~~~

Exactly twenty minutes later, a low knock sounded on your door - you were almost pleasantly surprised, but then Larissa barged in anyway, without waiting for you to respond, and you felt a twinge of annoyance bubble up inside of you.

“You wanted to see me.” Larissa grit her teeth as she stalked up to your desk.

“I did. Please, have a seat.”

Larissa ignored your offer and you let out a heavy sigh. “I must say, I was really disappointed this afternoon. The energy in your classroom was bordering on hostile and you made all of us feel very uncomfortable. I wouldn’t say that’s exactly conducive to learning and-”

“What were you even doing in my classroom?” Larissa hissed.

“I have been getting to know our faculty and their teaching methods better. It has worked quite well with your peers, however this afternoon was… eye-opening for me. What disappointed me the most, Ms. Weems, was that I caught a glimpse of you teaching as I entered the room, and it was… lovely. You care about your students, you really do, and I believe you to be a capable and nurturing teacher - your student’s grades prove as much.” You stood and rounded your desk, coming to stand in front of Larissa. “But the way your demeanor shifted when I joined your class… The way you refuse to work with me - it cannot continue like this.”

Larissa took a step forward, into your personal space. You could practically feel the white-hot anger radiating off of her in waves - it completely engulfed you. “You humiliated me in front of an entire class of my students and I-”

“Oh, shut up, Larissa!”

The blonde looked visibly shocked at the sudden use of her first name, the way it rolled off your tongue. Her pupils widened and her cheeks flushed - it was as if a switch had flipped inside of her as her eyes began to narrow and her lips curled into a sneer, electricity crackling between your bodies.

“Make me.”

That was it - the last straw. The heat you felt coursing through your veins was too much to bear, and without a single thought of consequences, you crashed your lips into Larissa’s, your hands immediately resting on her hips and tugging her closer.

The blonde let out a wanton moan as your tongue wasted no time in swiping at her lips, begging for entry - which she granted you without hesitation. Her tongue immediately met your own, licking into your mouth with a desperate sort of passion as she pushed her body flush against yours. Her left hand fisted at the collar of your shirt, pulling you closer and closer as her right hand threaded itself tightly through your hair, holding you in place.

The tension surrounding the both of you was growing thicker by the second, a hot coil winding itself tightly in your abdomen and lighting your entire body aflame. With a step forward, you had Larissa pinned between you and the edge of your desk. A little push was all she needed to topple back onto it, pulling you with her.

Larissa’s hands shot out to catch herself before her back hit the wood, and your lips disconnected for a moment. Her hot breath was heavy against your face and you looked up to see Larissa’s gaze fixed intently on your own, her eyes heavy-lidded and her pupils dilated so that there was barely a sliver of blue visible.

Her lipstick was smudged, smeared across her chin, just like in your fantasies, and for a moment you froze, like a deer caught in headlights.

You, the prey, and Larissa, the predator.

A wicked smile formed on her lips as she realized your predicament.

“Thought you could just fuck the attitude out of me, did you?” she purred, baring her teeth. You swallowed thickly, your eyes glued to her kiss-swollen lips, your heart pounding so fast you thought it might burst.

Even leaning back with her ass resting on your desk, she still towered over you. Her height had never intimidated you before but for a moment it gave you pause - you felt so very small. That moment was enough for Larissa to realize she had the upper hand, enough for her to slide her palm over the outside of your thigh, enough for her nimble fingers to tug the fabric of your skirt upwards until it was resting snugly above your hips, your panties on display for her.

“How naive of you,” she murmured as her fingers came to rest on your abdomen - you shivered at the touch - before slipping into the waistband of your underwear. You felt your cheeks burn as Larissa slid two fingers between your folds - you were so wet for her already, and the thought embarrassed you.

Larissa hummed quietly as she began to tease your slit, taking her time exploring your sex and gathering your juices on the pads of her fingers. When she finally soothed her fingers over your clit, you let out a strangled gasp, your hands coming to rest on her shoulders and squeezing tightly as your eyes fluttered shut.

Your clit was so sensitive, like every casual brush of her fingers could send you over the edge - but they didn’t. Just when you thought you might cum, her fingers left the little bundle of nerves and slid down your slit, towards your entrance.

She slipped the tip of her finger in, just to the first knuckle, before retracting and circling your entrance with a featherlight touch. Your nails dug into Larissa’s shoulders as you bucked your hips into her hand, whimpering desperately.

“So needy already and I’ve barely touched you,” Larissa tutted. “Tell me, have you pictured this before? Have you craved it?” Condescension dripped from her lips but you couldn’t find it in you to care - in fact, if anything, you felt the coil in your belly tighten and you ground your hips harder into her hand.

“Y-yes,” you whimpered. There was no point in lying to Larissa, not with how wet you were - and you would do just about anything to cum right now.

Without warning, Larissa plunged her finger into your hole, chuckling at the moan that clawed its way from deep within you. After a few pumps of her finger, she added a second digit and began to match the thrusts of your hips as she fucked you.

She curled her fingers upwards, going deeper this time and causing you to thrust forward so violently you nearly slid to the floor. Her reflexes were quick and she steadied you with her free arm, a smirk growing on her face.

Whatever power trip she was on, you didn’t care to stop her as her lips crashed into yours, her tongue all but forcing its entry into your mouth and asserting dominance. You felt entirely at her mercy as you felt yourself teeter on the edge of pleasure, your mind going fuzzy as Larissa’s fingers hit all the right spots inside you. What finally sent you over the edge was the way her thumb brushed over your clit at just the right moment, her fingers stroking your walls.

You clenched around her as you came, the coil in your belly snapping. Your moans were swallowed by the blonde, who seemed unable to keep her lips off your own, kissing and licking and gently nipping.

Your hands slid from Larissa’s shoulders to her waist, steadying yourself as you pulled back from the kiss. Larissa slipped her hand out of your underwear, her fingers glistening with your arousal - she brought them to her mouth and made a show of placing them on her tongue, licking and sucking and letting out a satisfied hum.

She watched you watch her, a smug grin growing on her face as your own cheeks flushed at the vulgar noises she was making. It was almost too much to bear, and you felt your frustration return with full force as Larissa pushed herself off the desk, holding her head high and smoothing the wrinkles in her dress. You would be damned if you let Larissa fuck you and then go on disrespecting you and making you feel awful about yourself.

“You thought we were done here?” You squared your shoulders and glared at Larissa in challenge - she quirked an eyebrow, looking slightly taken aback. “After all that, you would deny me the opportunity to return the favor?”

Larissa’s breathing quickened and you smirked as you leaned in to kiss her jaw. Your lips trailed lower, down the side of her neck, and she tilted her head back to give you better access as your teeth found her pulse point. You could feel her pulse hammering away as your lips latched onto her neck, sucking until her skin had been marked deep red.

Your hands found her hips and you moved down her body until your face was level with her thighs. You could feel Larissa’s gaze upon you as you slid her dress upwards to reveal her underwear - her knuckles turning white as she gripped the edge of the desk. There was a wet spot at the center of her underwear and you leant in, slowly dragging your tongue over the fabric and drawing a breathy groan from Larissa’s chest.

“And here you had me thinking I was the only one who was so wet right now,” you teased, your tongue finding Larissa’s clit through her underwear and giving it a gentle kitten lick, causing her to buck her pelvis into your mouth.

“So impatient…” You glanced up at Larissa’s face to see her cheeks flushed and her chest heaving as she glowered down at you. She made no move to stop you, however - quite the contrary, as she began to roll her hips against your tongue.

As much as you wanted to go on teasing her forever, you also felt a desperate urge to get a taste of the woman before you, so you hooked your fingers under the waistband of her underwear and pulled it down her long legs. You hooked her thighs over your shoulders, unable to stop yourself from moaning as you watched Larissa’s glistening folds spread for you.

You began to place wet, open-mouthed kisses to the insides of Larissa’s thighs, alternating between each leg and reveling in the way her thighs began to tremble beneath your lips. Smirking, you bit her thigh - right next to the entrance to her pussy. Larissa hissed and yanked your head back by the hair, her eyes flashing violently. Behind the aggression, there was a pool of unfettered desire already unspooling. Larissa was coming apart at the seams before your very eyes, and you could tell by her anger that it was unsettling to her.

The very thought emboldened you. “Well if it isn’t the former principal of Nevermore, turned into a needy little slut for me.”

Your words had the desired effect - Larissa mewled and bucked her hips towards your mouth. You took the opportunity to dive right in, the scent of her arousal filling your nostrils and making you feel dizzy with want as your tongue dragged its way up her slit. She tasted absolutely divine and you let out a satisfied hum that vibrated against her pussy and drew a deep moan from her chest.

Larissa’s fingers wound themselves even tighter in your hair as your tongue began to draw lazy circles around her clit, smearing your saliva and her arousal around the sensitive bud. You began to alternate between licking and sucking, wrapping your lips around her clit and flicking your tongue over it - experimenting with different paces and amounts of pressure to find out which drew the most sinful moans from the blonde’s lips, which made her thighs begin to tremble around your head.

You found it easy to lose yourself in Larissa - in her taste, her scent, the noises she was making, the way her pussy felt against your tongue and the way her hand felt against your head. You lapped hungrily at her cunt, your own desire burning hot within you as you felt Larissa barrel closer and closer to the edge - if the shaking of her legs and the volume of her groans was anything to go by.

Glancing up to catch a glimpse of her face, you dipped your tongue into her entrance, feeling her walls clench. A fire seemed to burn in her eyes as she came undone. You could tell how badly she wanted you by the way her lips parted as she gazed down at you, the way her tongue grazed her lower lip, the way the exposed part of her chest was red with anticipation. Her head lolled slowly back and her eyes fluttered shut, and you continued to lick and suck through her orgasm.

Larissa let go of your hair and slumped back onto the desk, her breathing labored. You let out a satisfied hum as you licked the arousal off the insides of her thighs, then gently unhooked her legs from your shoulders and stood, leaning over the desk and smirking down at her.

She lay back against the desk, staring at the ceiling. When you came into her line of vision, she tilted her head towards you and met your gaze, a strange expression on her face.

“I need to leave,” she whispered hoarsely, her eyes wide and glassy.

You opened your mouth to speak but before you could get a word out, Larissa had pushed herself up and pushed past you, pulling her dress down with one hand as she stooped down to grab her underwear with the other hand. She balled it into her fist, hiding it from view as she hurried to the door.

“Lari-” Slam.

Larissa was gone, leaving you to slump down in the armchair across from your desk, your chest heaving and your mind racing.

~~~

After a night of tossing and turning, you woke to an email from Larissa in your inbox.

Ms. Y/L/N,

Unfortunately, I am feeling a bit under the weather today, and am unable to teach my afternoon classes. Please do be so kind as to find a suitable replacement.

Regards,

L. Weems

Something wasn’t sitting right with you. Your stomach churned as you read the email over and over again, and it didn’t stop as you brushed your teeth, nor as you got dressed, nor as you settled at your desk with a cup of coffee.

You couldn’t get the previous day out of your head, and two things stuck out in your mind most of all:

Firstly, the little glimpse of Larissa that you’d caught when you’d first entered her classroom. The warmth, the genuine smile directed at her students, the encouraging tone to her voice. It was a side of Larissa that you hadn’t been privy to at all, and it made your heart ache - making you wish, even if just for a moment, that she could someday afford you that same warmth, that that brilliant smile of hers could be directed at you.

And secondly, the way those few moments made you realize how much you missed teaching. You’d always felt that your greatest purpose in life was to guide young outcasts and help them achieve their own goals, just as your teachers had done for you. And right now, as principal, you weren’t doing much of that at all. Maybe Larissa was right - maybe you weren’t cut out for the administrative side of things. The constant push and pull, the political bullshit, making all these decisions for the good of the school and being left so very unsure of yourself, with so little time to dedicate to the students you loved so much.

Your mind was replaying your last interaction with Larissa - the look in her eyes, how she’d left in such a hurry. Something was definitely off, and you wouldn’t rest until you’d sorted it out.

Shutting your laptop and abandoning your coffee, you grabbed your keys and made your way to the teacher’s quarters.

~~~

“Ms. Weems?” you called out, rapping your knuckles against the door to her quarters.

Silence.

“Ms. Weems?”

…

“Larissa?” you tried, knocking again.

This time, a soft shuffling could be heard, followed by the click of a lock, before the door opened just a crack, revealing one side of Larissa’s face, cast in shadow - it seemed she had the curtains drawn, and you suddenly felt guilty in case you’d woken her.

“Didn’t you receive my email, Ms. Y/L/N?” There was no hard edge to Larissa’s voice - she simply sounded exhausted.

“I, uh… I did, yes. I’m sorry if I woke you. I just wanted to check in and see if there’s anything I could do for you.” And talk, you added in your head. “Could I please come in?”

Larissa stared at you for a moment. Then a moment more. Then, she opened the door just a crack more and allowed you to step inside her quarters.

The curtains were indeed drawn, though the second that Larissa closed the door behind you, she hurried to the window and opened them to let in some light. She looked pristine as ever - not a hair out of place, makeup done to perfection, clothing free of wrinkles. She didn’t look ill at all. The only indication that she may have been curled up in bed was the untidy way her sheets were made up, as if she’d pulled them up and fluffed them in a haste.

Larissa’s eyes followed your gaze to her bed and she quickly took a step to the side, blocking it partially from view.

“Have you come to inspect how I keep my quarters now, as well?” she asked, an iciness seeping back into her tone. “I didn’t realize that was any of your concern as principal, Ms. Y/L/N.”

You shook your head lightly, finding yourself suddenly at a loss for words. “I… no. No, it’s not. That’s actually not why I’m here. Could you… um, could you please call me Y/N?”

Larissa scoffed and crossed her arms across her chest. “Alright. Y/N. Why are you here then?”

Your teeth sank into your lower lip as your mind whirred with all the things you wanted to say, all the things you wanted to know.

“What happened yesterday?” you whispered finally.

“You were there, were you not?” Larissa said with an incredulous snort. “Or would you like a quick recap?”

“No, I mean… I mean when you left.”

“I wasn’t feeling well.”

“You look fine to me,” you challenged with a raised eyebrow.

Larissa’s face hardened. “Your lack of empathy is absolutely astounding, Y/N.”

“Well considering the fact that you never actually opened up to me, it’s no-”

“Opened up to you?” Larissa scoffed. “I didn’t realize we were friends. Why should I speak with you about personal matters that don’t concern you?”

You opened your mouth - then promptly closed it again. Larissa was right, of course. You weren’t friends, and what she was or wasn’t going through was, of course, none of your business. That somehow didn’t stop you from wanting to know, though. As infuriating as the woman had proven to be since you’d met, you couldn’t help but desperately wish for things to be different than they were.

“You’re right. You don’t have to tell me anything. I just… I came by to tell you that I’m giving up my position. I’m going to call the school board this afternoon to quit, and I’m telling them that they should hire you back instead.”

The words left your mouth in a rush, and you felt so much lighter the second they did. Larissa’s lips parted, her eyes wide as she tried to process the information. You waited but she didn’t say anything, and so you turned to leave.

Just before you reached the door, Larissa found her voice. It was low and shaky, barely audible - but her quarters were so quiet you’d have heard a pin drop.

“I heard everything.”

Your brows knit together in confusion and you turned to see Larissa perch herself at the edge of her bed, her gaze trained on the floor in front of her.

“I don’t understand,” you whispered. “What did you hear?”

“It took ages for them to find me. When I woke up, I knew I was in the hospital because of the noises around me. Only I wasn’t awake, not really.” Larissa’s voice sounded bitter and subdued, her fingers twitched from where she was playing with them in her lap. “I heard people speaking to me. Then about me. And about Nevermore. And I couldn’t… I couldn’t say or do anything. I could only listen.”

Your heart was thumping erratically in your chest and you took a tentative step towards Larissa. “Who was speaking? Your friends, when they visited you?”

Larissa let out a shaky sigh, her eyelids fluttering shut. “Tell me, Y/N, how much time have you had to maintain your friendships since starting your position?”

The question confused you, and you drank in Larissa’s tense body language, her pained expression. Then you realized what she meant - her friends, if she even had any, hadn’t seemed to visit her at all, and a wave of guilt washed over you, so intense that you took a seat next to Larissa on the bed.

She opened her eyes and peered over at you, seeming to take your silence as a form of acknowledgment. “Some students visited in the first days - Miss Addams and Miss Sinclair, mostly, Miss Barclay once or twice. Later it was school administrators - trying to figure out what to do with me, I suppose, whether or not to…” Larissa trailed off into silence, letting out a shuddering breath as her eyes darted about the room.

Without thinking, you leant in and pressed your lips to Larissa’s cheek - you felt her tense up and pulled back as quickly as you could, your own cheeks turning scarlet.

“I-I’m so sorry,” you stuttered, scrambling to your feet.

A hand curled around your wrist, stilling you in your movements. “Don’t be,” Larissa whispered.

“Do you want me to go?” you asked anxiously.

Larissa looked up at you with wide, watery eyes. “Could you stay? Just for a few minutes. Please.”

You nodded, sitting back down next to Larissa and resting your hand face up on her lap - an offering which she accepted, placing her hand in your own and interlacing your fingers.

“Thank you,” she murmured, her voice shaky.

You gave Larissa’s hand a gentle squeeze, and the two of you sat in silence for what felt like hours, your hands intertwined. Strangely, you felt more at peace in that moment than you had since starting at Nevermore, and Larissa seemed to be getting more comfortable as well, even resting her cheek on your shoulder at one point.

The moment you left her quarters that afternoon, you pulled your phone out of your pocket to call the school board.

~~~

It was with a heavy heart that you hauled your suitcase onto your bed and unzipped it. Leaving Nevermore would be bittersweet for you - as much as you would miss the school you’d been dying to work at your entire life, you knew you were doing the right thing - for yourself, for Larissa, and for Nevermore.

You opened your wardrobe and began placing your clothes into your open suitcase when you heard a knock on the door to your quarters.

“It’s open,” you called out, and the door creaked as it swung open to reveal Larissa. “Hi,” you said with a shy smile, which Larissa returned hesitantly.

“I’ve just received a call from the school board and gotten everything sorted out. Thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

You smiled softly at the principal. “I think I have some idea.”

Larissa’s cheeks turned pink and she looked away, her eyes darting around your room before landing on the mess on your bed. “Do you want to leave?” she asked, her voice soft and curious.

You chuckled nervously and gave her a light shrug. “I don’t know if I would say I want to leave, but I don’t see what choice I have without a job here. Unless you’re renting out rooms…?”

Larissa chuckled. “Actually, a position has opened up for a new history teacher,” she said. “I’ve taken the liberty of looking into your employment history and I think you’d be a great asset to our staff.”

Your eyes widened. “Really? You would hire me?”

“Yes,” Larissa said firmly. “I would. If you’d like to stay, that is…”

“Yes!” you all but shouted. “Sorry… yes. I would love to, that would be amazing. Thank you, Larissa.”

Larissa nodded, smiling softly. Your eyes fell to the large suitcase that was standing just behind Larissa, and you cocked your head to the side in question.

“The school board has agreed to allow me to take over my old quarters,” Larissa supplied as her gaze followed your own.

“Ah. I see.”

You fidgeted in place and Larissa watched you curiously for a moment. When she realized you weren’t going to say anything else, she gave you a curt nod and placed a hand on the handle of her suitcase. “I’ll leave you to it, then,” she said softly. “Perhaps we can set up a meeting this week to get you acquainted with your new position.”

You nodded, your stomach doing a little somersault as your heartbeat began to pick up just a tad. Larissa took a step back into the hallway and started to pull the door closed behind her.

“Larissa, wait.”

The blonde froze in her movements, her brow furrowing as her gaze shot up to meet your own. You swallowed thickly.

“Do you want help? Moving all your stuff back?”

You held your breath as Larissa stared. Then, her face lit up with a bright, beautiful smile, red lips curling up at the edges and sparkling blue eyes crinkling at the outer corners.

“I would love that.”

#larissa weems x reader #larissa weems #larissa x reader #principal weems x reader #principal weems

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pebblysand · 1 year

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Started reading castles and it’s so good! Don’t know if saying this correctly but… how did you came up with it? Like what made your brain go “ I wanna write about this”?

aw thank you so much! glad you're enjoying!

wow, this is such a deep question. i don't think there was, like, one thing that made me want to write it. i didn't wake up one day with a fully formed idea of what this fic will be. even now, while i do have the overall structure in my head, i definitely also make things up as i go along. castles has known many iterations of itself over the years, and it just kept growing until i felt i was finally able to write it.

the first time i got the urge to write something was when i was 14, right after i first finished reading DH. i remember writing fic in my little school notebook during class. at the time, it was mostly a harry/ginny story about how-they-got-back-together after the war. i lost it and never finished it, but i remember very clearly it already had that sort of quiet, blurry sort of vibe that you get in the early chapters, especially chapter one. that sense of the calm after the storm, and not really knowing what to do with all that time. back then, i was writing exclusively shippy content, and so that's the sort of iteration it took. but i think what drove me to write it was this sort of frustration at the epilogue and at the "lack" of a direct aftermath of the battle. i'm not an epilogue hater, i actually like the epilogue for what it represents, but i think i would have liked more details on the characters and the "rebuilding" prior to it. i think that's where that came from.

the second time i tried to write it, i had just turned 18. i'd done a re-read that summer and by then, i already had a lot more writing experience under my belt (for context, i started writing at 13). i remember, again, it being post-war, and a sort of more "polished" product than what i'd written prior. i think i didn't finish it/publish it back then because a) the hugeness of the HP fandom scared me as a writer, and i didn't want to expose myself to the crazies, b) that's around the same time i fell into House MD, then TGW, and both shows took over my life, and c) i think, looking back, maybe some part of me knew i could write a better story, if i just waited a bit. but, it was then that i wrote the very first draft of what you will now know as the "first time" scene between harry and ginny, and also the line that has now become the fic's summary: to him, the spring of '98 is about sex and funerals. i remember this re-read was also the first time when i actually sat down and thought about what might have happened to ginny in hogwarts and (i'm remaining vague here cause you've said you only just started reading), had the idea for The Thing. which wasn't so much an "idea" as much as the fact that i was 18 and now a lot more attuned to the world i was living in as a young woman.

i picked up the books again in late 2017 (then, 24) and i remember pulling the story out of my massive archive of abandoned projects, and reading through it after finishing DH. i remember getting to the line "to him, the spring of '98 is about sex and funerals" and thinking: jesus, that's a good line, lol. and, i think at the time i wrote a bit more of it (i specifically remember writing the scene where ginny, ron and hermione help harry move in to his new flat - now chapter 3), but the issue was that i was knee-deep into writing another long-work in another fandom, and so this sort of took the backseat.

finally, we got to the 2020 lockdowns. i used the first lockdown to fully finish and put in the edits i wanted to add to my previous long work (which i'd finished writing in 2018). then, there was a second lockdown, and a third, and was a bit like: what now? and i re-read HP for comfort (considering the global crisis ongoing lol), and, well, the rest is history. i reviewed and repolished what i already had and put it out in september 2020. i thought to myself, i'll write another five chapters (LOL) and be done by december and, well, again, the rest is history.

so, i think, to answer your question, what made my brain go "i wanna write about this?" - time, really. the passage of time and the idea maturing in my brain. harry/ginny came first, then ginny, then the sort of broader environment (harry moving into a flat, etc), and finally, the overall arc of the story. i think the fascination with the post-war era is just - this idea that how do we get from kids who have been through so much and so deeply traumatised to "all was well". i remember seeing an interview from jkr once where she said that would probably have been the hardest part, and being like "yes, exactly." and, i think that fascination was always there, for me, but it just took a while to fully form.

which is something i now very much try to keep in mind: just because you abandon a project now, doesn't mean you are abandoning it forever. maybe it just needs more time in your head to fully bloom.

#castles #asked and answered

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4kominato · 1 month

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A/N: Hiiii sorry it's lateee (as usual). I finally got a chance to breathe bc its spring break rn... but also this is my last academic semester!! after finals this May its only rotations til graduation!! thank god... so i should have more free time after May! ~kuri

@ssnyda Request: I would like to request a scenario where there's some tension between Carlos and reader before smut ensues? Like in the locker rooms or something.. Since Carlos seems like a pretty nice guy all in all, I'd prefer if it also ends on a sweet note as well, thanks!

Pairing: Kamiya Carlos Toshiki x F!Reader

Genre: Smut (M) - SEXUAL CONTENT

Word Count: 3.4K

Finally, you thought to yourself as the cram school bell rang. You’d promised your boyfriend, Carlos, that you’d watch his pre-season scrimmage against Seido this evening before going out to dinner together, but your dumbass managed to forget that you had cram school at the same time, even though you’ve had the same cram school schedule for the past two years. Instead of telling him you couldn’t make it though, you decided it’d be a good idea to sprint back to the school as soon as your class ended and make it just in time to catch the last few innings. But no, of course it wouldn’t work out that perfectly. By the time you get back to school the whole field and the stands are completely deserted with absolutely no players or spectators in sight.

“Dammit!” you cursed to yourself, face palming at your own pride and stupidity. You should’ve just been honest with him and told him you would only be able to make it to dinner.

“Looking for Carlos?” a familiar, monotonous voice spoke up, snapping you out of it.

“Oh, Shirakawa-kun, hi,” you chuckled nervously, “Yeah, I’m looking for Carlos. Sorry I missed the scrimmage…”

“It’s fine, you didn’t miss much. Seido’s batting line-up is pretty shit right now. We won without even trying.”

“Ouch… Well, hopefully they get it together before the season starts, but still congrats on the win. Anyways, so where’s Carlos?”

“The last I saw him he was still in the locker room. I think he should be almost done by now.”

“Cool. Thanks Shirakawa-kun! Nice talking to you!” You quickly excused yourself with a bow, to which Shirakawa returned a brief wave before the two of you parted ways.

When you arrived at the men’s locker room, the door was propped open so you called first without entering, “Carlos? Are you in there?”

“Yeah,” he answered back almost immediately, “You can come in. No one else is in here.”

You were reluctant to enter, considering it was the men’s locker room, so you popped your head in first, then entered once you confirmed it really was only Carlos in there. When you spotted him, he was standing in front of one of the lockers, without a shirt on, seemingly doing nothing… though you didn’t miss the opportunity to check out his beautifully sculpted back and arm muscles since they were out on display.

“U-uh, Carlos…?” you spoke up once you collected yourself after the initial shock of seeing him shirtless.

“Hm?” he responded, turning towards you to reveal his chiseled front side making you almost choke on air. Darting your eyes away, you gulped hard before responding.

“W-why… are you just standing there? Without a shirt on?” you murmured, eyes glued to the floor. There was definitely mutual knowledge that this was the first time you’d seen him half naked, but while you were flustered by the situation, Carlos appeared unphased; or maybe he was actually enjoying your reaction.

“Why aren’t you looking at me when you’re talking to me, hm?” he answered back with a smirk that you barely managed to make out through your peripherals as he slowly approached you. “You’re not embarrassed to see your own boyfriend without a shirt on, are you?”

In the blink of an eye he was standing right in front of you, hands creeping around your waist as he pulled you flush against him and despite your previous inability to look at him directly, the close proximity made staring at his beautiful face and upper body irresistible. You were so dazed that it didn't even occur to you that you were just standing limply in his hold until he commented, “You can touch me too y’know,” with a chuckle.

You could feel your face heating up and your heart beating faster thinking about where this could lead. You’d be lying to say you hadn’t fantasized about it before… many times before… but leaving cram school today, you didn’t expect in the slightest that tonight would be the night that you reached home base, and you definitely didn’t think it’d be in the locker room.

Just as you lifted your hands and placed them onto his firm chest, an obnoxious but familiar voice startled you, making you impulsively jolt away and break out of your still calm boyfriend’s grasp.

“Carlos?! Carlos! Are you still in there?” The voice grew louder until a shorter boy with blonde hair emerged from the doorway, his face lighting up upon seeing the one whom he was searching for standing before him, “Thank god you’re here, I’ve been looking everywhere for you! What’s taking you so long? You’ve been in here since the end of the scrimmage!”

“I was debating if I should put my shirt on or not,” he replied dryly, not bothered at all by Mei’s judgment.

“What? Why? You never wear a shirt anyways,” Mei remarked, puzzled over Carlos’s unusual predicament.

“We’re going out to dinner,” he answered, gesturing his head towards you as he spoke, to which the blonde refocused his attention in your direction.

“Oh, hi! You were so quiet I didn’t even notice you there!” Mei chuckled and slung an arm around you.

“Or maybe you’re just too loud and oblivious,” you responded sheepishly whilst you still attempted to collect yourself after the heated moment you were having with your boyfriend just moments before.

“Hey, that’s not nice,” Mei whined with a pout, “But really, you seem a little, hm… flustered. What’s wrong?”

“This is the first time I’ve been shirtless in front of her. Let her breathe, man.” Carlos shook his head with an exasperated sigh at his routinely obnoxious teammate.

“What?! Are you serious?!” Mei laughed out-loud in disbelief before turning to you, “I would’ve thought you’d seen this guy naked already because he literally never wears clothes around here, especially in the dorms.”

“W-what?” You sputtered, not knowing how to respond. This was news to you, but even the sheer thought of Carlos naked had you biting your lip and clenching your thighs together; maybe you even felt a bit jealous that the baseball team got the chance to see your boyfriend nude on numerous occasions while you’d yet to see it for yourself.

“Okay, okay, that’s enough,” Carlos finally stepped in, flicking Mei in the forehead before pulling you out of his grasp.

“Ow! Rude!” he whined, rubbing his forehead to ease the pain. “Well anyways, I came to ask if you wanted to come to yakiniku with us. I’m going with Masa-san, Shirakawa, and Itsuki, but I guess you already have dinner plans so nevermind. Later!” Throwing up a wave, Mei finally made his way out of the locker room without another word. Thank god; you thought he was never gonna leave…

Upon Mei’s exit, Carlos followed close behind to close and lock the door, preventing the possibility of any further interruptions. “Now, where were we?” Carlos asked rhetorically as he re-approached you, cupping your face in his hands.

“I was admiring your body,” you admitted without shame, desperate to pick up where the two of you left off.

“Right, right… and I was saying you don’t have to be shy to touch me.” Leaning in to connect your lips, his hands, soon after, slid from your cheeks and slowly down your neck, creeping to your shoulders and then down the length of your arms until they reached your wrists. Eagerly, but gently he guided your hands up to his toned abdomen, encouraging you to caress him to your heart’s content. Entranced by the passion in his kiss, you were unable to resist the invitation to feel him up so you did; delicately you traced every crevice with your fingertips and explored every inch of his exposed torso, working your way up from his v-cut to his pecks.

Your breath hitched in your throat and heat rushed between your legs at the feeling of Carlos thrusting his hips flush against you, revealing to you how hard he’d gotten. Knowing now that he wanted you made your desire for him amplify more than you even thought possible; while still eagerly savoring the taste of his lips and tongue you pulled your uniform tie loose and aggressively began unbuttoning your dress shirt.

“Hasty, aren’t you?” Carlos pulled away with a smirk spread across his glistening lips.

“I want you,” you admitted without hesitation, peeling your top from your shoulders and letting the garment fall to the floor. “I’ve been wanting to for a while now, but our schedules just haven’t been able to line up…”

“Aw, baby,” Carlos cooed, wrapping his arms around your torso to unhook your bra, “You should have told me. I could have snuck you into my dorm any time… and bought some condoms ahead of time.” Pinning you against the closed lockers, he peppered kisses along your neck whilst he tenderly cupped one of your breasts in his palm. As his plump lips worked their way further down your collarbone and chest, it wasn’t long before they encompassed your free nipple, sucking and nipping at it without neglecting your other breast, continuing his fondling with gentle, circular motions.

“It’s ah-alright…” you struggled to speak amongst Carlos’s amazing service, “I s-started birth control a-as soon as we started da-ating…”

“Hm, wow. What a good girl,” he hummed in delight as he slid even further down your body, his hands grazing your hips before smoothly slipping them under your uniform skirt to hook his fingers into the waistband of your panties. “You’ve been preparing for this all along, huh?”

“Yes,” you gulped in anticipation, and before you could say anything more, he had your panties pooled at your ankles and you could feel your own wetness trickling down your inner thighs.

“Yeah, I see that.” He observed with a deep chuckle, brows raised in amusement as he swatched a sample of the copious arousal seeping through your lower lips. Chills ran down your spine as you watched him take your essence into his mouth and lick his fingers clean with a satisfied expression on his face. “You taste delicious,” he praised as he guided you to sit on one of the benches and pushed your skirt up enough for him to see you in all your glory.

Hooking one of your legs over his shoulder, his tongue wasted no time delving into the depths of your slick folds, briefly teasing your entrance before slowly dragging his wet muscle up to your clit. After circling and flicking it a few times bare, his lips joined in on the fun, enveloping the sensitive bulb as his tongue continued with its skillful stimulation.

“Mm-ngh… Carlos…” you whimpered in a failed attempt to stifle your moan out of fear that a random passerby outside would hear what was going on; but whatever magic your boyfriend was working down there felt so damn amazing that he managed to break you just a little bit. You didn’t think your stamina was all that bad, but now he definitely had you second guessing.

“C-Carlo-os I-I’m—“

“Close? I know,” he interrupted smuggly, pulling away only momentarily to speak before he resumed God’s work, but with a kick this time. To your surprise, he slipped two of his slender digits into your core, adding stimulation from the inside whilst his mouth continued its assault from the outside.

“C-Carlos—!?” you squealed, face scrunched and toes curled as he effortlessly pushed you over the edge. Though it wasn’t much to work with, you gripped the back edge of the narrow locker room bench from behind for dear life as the bliss exploding from between your legs surged through the rest of your trembling body. The orgasm he induced had you feeling so weak that it felt like your arms could give out on you any second, but you did everything in your ability to hold yourself up because more than anything, you didn’t want the euphoria to end.

You didn’t do it consciously, but you must’ve made a disappointed sound or expression as the warmth of his mouth and fingers receded, but with his clean hand, Carlos tilted your chin up to place the most chaste kiss to your lips. “Don’t look so sad. Y’know I’m not done yet, right?”

Swinging a leg over the bench, he straddled it facing you as his hands went straight to his belt, then pants, hastily undoing both of them enough to access the waistband of his briefs. “Babe, c’mere,” he called in a deep, sultry tone that immediately perked you up, “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

You watched like a hawk as his hooked thumb pulled the spandex material over the prominent bulge hidden beneath, the suspense of the reveal making you utterly restless in your seat. When his firm manhood finally sprang from the confines, you felt like you could come again in that instant just from looking at it; it was even sexier than you could’ve ever imagined.

“Well, don’t just stare,” he chuckled, obviously flattered by your reaction, “Come here and give me a nice fastball right down the middle so I can hit a homerun, hm? Or maybe a few if you can go for that long.”

That was all you needed to hear to completely drop your self-restraints and pounce him like a bitch in heat. It took you about point five seconds to position yourself on top of him while he gently guided your hips down to align his tip perfectly with your entrance. Having absolutely zero patience, you lowered yourself onto him, letting his girth stretch your cavernous flesh as his length inched its way up to kiss your womb.

“Damn, baby. Does it feel okay?” he half asked, half groaned, to which you nodded aggressively because you were actually far beyond okay… you were more like in heaven or something to that caliber. “Tell me if something hurts or doesn’t feel good,” he assured as he steadily thrusted his hips upward, then retracted just as slowly to gauge your response to his movement before picking up the pace.

“It’s good, but…” you mumbled breathily as you wrapped your arms and legs around his torso, face nuzzling into his neck, “Please go faster…”

“Faster?” he questioned with a chuckle, “I can’t deny a request like that, but still make sure to tell me if it hurts.”

Not even a moment after you gave him an affirmative nod, his hands were on your ass, stabilizing you while he bucked his hips up into you like a wild animal, making you bounce erratically on top of him.

“A-ah… Ca-arlo-os…!” you cried out choppily, the feeling of his cock pulverizing your insides making your whole mind go blank; the only thing you could process was how good he was making you feel and how close you were to coming again.

“You okay?” Carlos asked breathily without slowing his pace at all, “Too fast?”

“I-I’m s-so c-clo-ose…” you moaned barely coherently, given how winded the bouncing was making you.

“Then come. Don’t be shy,” he growled, his throaty groans making your insides churn, the end drawing even nearer in only a matter of seconds. It only took a few more strokes before your toes were curling, nails digging into his muscular back as the tension in your core rapidly unraveled until the tingling feeling of euphoria burst inside of you, making you cry out into his neck while your tender walls pulsated around his angry cock. His thrusting slowed, but not to a complete stop as you came down from that hell of a high.

“Fuck, you’re so sexy, baby,” he groaned with his brows knit together and head rolled back, “Think you can go one more time?”

“W-wha–? Ah–!” Before you could even really answer he was back to relentlessly bucking his hips up into you and bouncing you like a freakin’ basketball. You didn’t actually think you could come again, but after another ten seconds or so of him hitting that glorious spot within, you could feel a third climax creeping up on you, threatening to strike at any given moment. To your surprise, a deep grunt resonated from Carlos’s broad chest, making you gasp and the feeling of warmth filling your insides followed soon after. The sheer thought of the situation was enough to give you that final push over the edge, making you squeal from both pleasure and a hint of overstimulation; you could barely even breathe by the time Carlos’s movements came to a stop.

“I must say…” he started with a breathy chuckle, still obviously catching his breath, “I didn’t think you’d actually come three times. I’m impressed.”

“I didn’t think so either…” you replied just as breathlessly, “You were just… so good…”

“I’m not the lead-off man for nothing. As long as I hit, I can get on base.”

“Can you stop with the stupid baseball puns?” you giggled and whacked him lightly on the chest.

“Why? You think they’re funny don’t you?” he laughed with you.

“No, they’re stupid…” But despite your answer, you were still loopy and laughing as you spoke. Cupping his face in your hands, you pulled him into a loving kiss, tongues dancing between your lips. The moment was soon ruined, however, by the sound of pounding on the door and a voice that both of you were hoping not to hear again for the rest of the evening.

“Are you guys done in there yet?” Mei yelled without even the slightest hint of remorse.

“No, why?” Carlos snapped back.

“I left my phone in there! We didn’t even go to yakiniku yet!”

“That sounds like a you problem.”

“Ugh, can you just hurry up?! Make up for what all of us had to hear out here!”

“No one said you had to listen.”

“It was hard not to with how loud you guys were!”

Shaking his head, Carlos gave up arguing with his snarky teammate, knowing that if he wanted to, they could go on forever. “Hold still, alright? I’m gonna get you cleaned up,” he announced to you as he stood up from the bench and walked into the bathroom to grab some toilet paper to wipe the remnants from both you and the bench. He helped you gather your clothes and redress before redressing himself, and thankfully he put a shirt on too. Once the two of you helped each other to look presentable enough to go out to dinner, you nervously followed behind Carlos as he unlocked and opened the locker room door.

“Finally!” the blonde nearly yelled, pushing through the door into the locker room. “Jesus, it’s so stuffy in here!”

“It’ll air out in a few minutes,” Carlos answered back as he grabbed your hand and led you out. “We’re going to dinner now. Bye,” he added as he quickly rushed out before Mei could catch up. He knew he’d hear all about it from the team later tonight because there’s no doubt that Mei told everyone, but that was a problem he’d deal with after you guys enjoyed your romantic dinner. Afterall, it’s not every day the two of you get to spend quality time together like this.

“Oh and by the way…” you spoke up as the two of you walked hand in hand towards the school exit, “Sorry I missed the scrimmage… I forgot I had cram school and couldn’t make it back in time.”

“I know,” he replied, unphased, “I realized after I asked you that our scrimmage was during your cram school time. I thought maybe you said yes because it got canceled this week or something like that, but as soon as I saw you didn’t come I knew you just forgot about it.”

“Oh…” you chuckled sheepishly, embarrassed but relieved that he apparently had it all figured out already. “So… this means you’re not upset with me right?”

“No? Of course not. Dinner is the important part; that’s our date. I only invited you to the game because you said you like to watch me play. There will be plenty of other ones for you to watch though so don’t even worry about it.”

You could feel a grin tugging at your lips at the sound of his reassuring words as you wondered how you were so lucky to have found such a laid-back and understanding boyfriend. Even as a busy, first string baseball player at a prestigious school, he never failed to set aside adequate time to spend with you. It’s his effort and consideration that makes your moments together so much more special and always worth the wait.

#request #kuri's writing #daiya no ace #daiya no ace fanfic #kamiya carlos toshiki #kamiya carlos toshiki fanfic #daiya no ace carlos fanfic #daiya no ace carlos #carlos x reader #kamiya carlos #ace of diamond #ace of diamond carlos #ace of diamond fanfic

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spaceorphan18 · 1 year

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personal thoughts.

okay. the state of things.

So - I think (and hope) that i've finally turned a corner regarding my mental health. Anxiety has not made it impossible for me to do my job. I enjoy (as much as one can enjoy during the holidays - that's a different thing) going to work again. And, I have interest in my other hobbies -- which was worrisome for a while, because I'd be either too anxious (or too depressed) to focus on anything other than watching a lot of TV. (And I feel like for the previous past six months - I watched way too much tv.)

The car stuff is done - and while I think finances are going to be a pain for a while, I'm not /worried/ about it. And all of that I was worried about for a long, long time. It's why I was so adamant about getting the promotion in the first place. And while I'd still like to have my own store someday, I'm not in a huge hurry (though a few years, not another decade.)

Meanwhile, my boss is what she is. And I think we've come to enough of an understanding of each other that work is alright.

I think I'm in an okay place.

Now, the holidays, as the other thing, are a pain in the butt. My projects are somewhat on hold until the end of the year because I'm just so tired at the end of the day. Even the Advent (which I've been enjoying) has slowed down.

However - I'm kind of making it a new year priority to kind of get back on track with everything. There's a possibility that I might actually achieve balance at some point. (I mean - we can all dream)

Anyway, the past week has just been /a lot/ and the next week is also going to be /a lot/ -- but by the time the rest of you are going back to work and school after enjoying your holidays, I'll finally get to have my vacation -- and I'm doing absolutely nothing for an entire week.

And it might be the first vacation in forever where its (hopefully) worry free.

Anyway - I'm still going to be documenting my mental health notes -- it's a good way to see how frequently issues arise so I can discuss things with my doctor. And that's where we're at with that.

#self journaling

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logically-asexual · 2 years

Text

Where's my fucking teenage dream?

summary:

Last part of this series, two years after the events of the previous part. Logan just finished high school while Janus, Remus and Virgil have been renting a house together since they graduated. Logan decides to move in with them, but adjusting isn't so easy. Logan is ace but does feel romantic attraction (for Virgil). He doesn't know he's ace, though, so the story involves some self-questioning.

Read on AO3

Chapter 9

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words: 2242

notes: to make virgil a good writer i'd have to be a good writer myself, which i am not, so sorry about that. suspend your disbelief or whatever.

Logan was sitting on the living room floor by the coffee table, where stacks of notes, two textbooks, pencils, and highlighters were laid. He was so focused on his revising that he didn’t notice anyone coming in until a new stack of papers was dropped on top of his things.

He looked up to find Janus standing next to him, then held up the papers.

“‘Statistics for Business Administration’?” he read out loud. “What is this?”

“Homework. I need your help with it.”

“You’re not a business administrator.”

“How do you know that? I could have changed my field of study.” Janus looked almost offended.

“You’re only taking a philosophy class this semester. I know that for a fact. You’ve forced me to do reading assignments for you… You hate business majors.”

“Just do it, I really need it.”

“Finals are almost here, I don’t have time.”

“Come on, Lo, we all know you study with too much anticipation, you’ll do fine. Please? For your good, older, and wiser friend who provides you with shelter and nourishment?”

Logan was about to cave in when a sound by the stairs distracted him. He glanced towards its source and found Virgil standing there, out of Janus’ sight. He must have been walking down and didn’t want to interrupt.

With newfound resolve, Logan lifted his chin up and looked the other in the eye.

“No.”

“No?” Janus repeated slowly. There was a dangerous threat in his tone, but Logan didn’t falter.

“No. Find another solution to your problem, I am extremely busy, if you hadn’t noticed.” He turned back to his textbooks.

“So you’re going to let Remus and me get arrested just like that?”

Logan’s attention was pulled from his reading once again. Janus lies, don’t entertain him, he thought, but curiosity got the best of him. “What?”

Janus also lifted his chin up. “I wasn’t going to tell you the details, but the problem is that I’m dating this police officer’s daughter and if she fails this class he’ll arrest me and Remus.”

Logan blinked at him. Janus was usually a good liar, this was so uncharacteristic of him that Logan worried he might have been sick. Janus seemed more nervous than usual right now.

“Are you feeling well?” was all Logan could say.

Janus bit the inside of his cheek, then spoke quickly. “Fine. There is a police officer but actually Remus and I threw an egg at his car the other night—”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, we were drunk, it doesn’t matter. We threw an egg at its windshield and thought that would be it but some stupid neighbor has footage of us doing it and threatened us to show it to the police. We told him to delete it but he wanted–”

“–his homework done?”

“No, drugs,” Janus corrected as if it were obvious. “So I have a contact but they’re expensive and I used most of my money on our halloween costumes but I knew that she was failing this statistics class for not doing any of the work and turns out this is her last chance to pass it before she gets expelled and I told her I would have it all done by midnight and she accepted the deal.” He had to take air in after telling the story in one breath.

“Why don’t you ask your friend Chris to do it?”

“Did you miss the part about me not having any money?”

Logan rolled his eyes.

“Unless you’ve been talking to him and you can flirt your way into convincing him to do it for free…”

“I haven��t talked to him.” Logan said before the other finished his sentence.

Janus tensed his jaw in a sour expression.

“Why don’t you return the costumes?” Logan pressed.

“No refunds, and I promised Virgil you’d wear yours for his birthday.”

“You what?!”

“Shush, we’ll talk about that another day.”

Logan rubbed the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

“So…” Janus tried. “You’ll do it?”

“No.”

“No?”

“No!” Logan said as he read through the assignments, “This is high school level, you can do it yourself.”

“I finished high school like three years ago, how am I supposed to remember?”

“Research it, then.” This time, it was Logan’s gaze that left no room for disagreement. His expression was perfectly serious, even if his heart was beating a hundred times per minute.

Janus schooled his expression and dropped his shoulders, as well, though his lips were still tightly pulled together. He relaxed them and then pulled them up in a serene smile.

“Well… Congratulations,” he said with a slight bow of his head, taking the stack of papers back, “for passing the test. I’ll now give these back to the person I borrowed them from.” He stood straight and swiftly turned around and walked out of the house.

Logan let out the breath he had been holding the entire interaction, and a small smile cracked through.

Right after Janus had left, Virgil walked out of his hiding spot and over to Logan. He sat down next to him as he turned back to his notes.

“That wasn’t a test.” Logan confidently stated.

“Nope.”

“Will he be alright?”

“He’s an adult. He’ll figure it out.”

Logan managed to recover his previous focus, but the proud smile never left his face.

After receiving many interruptions to his studying and complaints about the space he occupied, Logan was no longer welcome to revise in the common spaces. Virgil offered him to work in his bedroom, if what he needed was a peaceful space distinct to his own room and occasional company.

On his sixth day of intensive revising, Logan laid on his stomach on Virgil’s carpet, reading from a biochemistry textbook and taking detailed, color-coded notes from it. He had a watch next to the books with an alarm set to allow himself breaks of five minutes every half hour.

As soon as the alarm rang, he turned it off, closed the textbook, and laid fully down on top of it. Virgil, who sat by his side reading, chuckled at the sudden change.

“You okay there, buddy?”

Logan’s muffled affirmation made him smile once more.

He lifted his face and turned to his roommate, speaking clearly this time. “I’m fine. This is actually an easy class, but I need to switch off my brain to make sure it secures all the information in place before moving on.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“It works, I promise.”

Virgil hummed, but he didn’t seem to believe Logan yet. He closed his book, too, shifting his attention to the student next to him.

“You look tired.”

“I’m fine. This is… great.”

He had always liked science, but his appreciation for it seemed to only increase with every hour he spent learning.

“I’d like to say that I don’t miss the stress of school for a second,” Virgil began, changing his position to lay down next to Logan and speaking a little lower, “but I remember the times when it was worth it, when something would click and all the panic I had gathered about the topic suddenly faded away, because it made sense now.”

Logan was taken aback by the other’s honesty. He looked at the novel in his hands, at the piles of other books on his desk and shelves, and at the crumpled papers thrown around the room.

“Did you ever consider an English degree?” he asked. “You’d probably go through it effortlessly.”

Virgil glanced at his hands, “I don’t know,” then turned back to Logan. “I do like reading and writing whatever but… I feel that… If someone else told me what to read or what to write it would take all the fun out of it, you know?”

Logan nodded. He leaned up to rest his upper body on his elbows, mirroring Virgil’s position.

He remembered a story Virgil had shown him one night, handwritten on an old notebook. It was about a kid who never met their parents, and had to move from one foster home to the next. They wouldn’t talk to anyone, too anxious about what they might think of them. At sixteen, they were allowed to live in a distant relative’s house, who promised to let them stay by themselves however long they wanted, as long as they went to school.

The kid died of an unidentified illness, they hadn’t had the courage to speak up about their pain. Their ghost remained, and it was surprised by the emotions demonstrated by the people they had met during their life, even when they were alone with the kid’s body, with no one to fool or impress. The ghost then felt a sudden impulse to look for other ghosts, to see if someone felt the same.

Virgil didn’t allow Logan to talk to him about the story, because he had handed him the notebook before leaving him, the night before Janus, Remus, and him moved out. Logan never reached out after that because he didn’t know if they would have wanted him to. He smiled to himself. They were here now, it was alright.

“I was just curious,” he told Virgil, “but I don’t believe that you need it. I think you’re a great writer as you are.”

He realized their shoulders were touching, their faces were too close to each other. Blushing, he was about to move away when Virgil’s hand reached out to his cheek. His thumb stroked over his cheekbone as Logan stared at Virgil’s lips, forming a relaxed smile. They met his own a second later.

Virgil then pulled back, only slightly. “Is this okay?” his deep voice asked, his eyes searching into Logan’s for any sign of discomfort.

Instead of answering, Logan closed his eyes and leaned back in, turning his body to face Virgil fully. The movement caused them to shift position. Without breaking apart, Logan was now laying on his back, with Virgil leaning over him. Virgil kissed him slowly and with care, but grew confident as he felt Logan’s positive –though still somewhat shy– response.

In a few seconds the ringing of the alarm interrupted them. They pulled apart, both flushed and out of breath.

Virgil reached out for the watch first. “How do you shut this thing up?”

After he finally managed to turn it off, he tossed it away carelessly.

Logan laughed, but he was already sitting up. He put a few more inches of space between him and Virgil, catching his breath.

“Are you alright?” Virgil asked.

He nodded, then confirmed verbally. “Yeah.” Logan couldn’t name the emotions he was feeling, the only word that came to mind was ‘overwhelming’. He was still smiling. “I should… get back to work.”

Virgil rolled his eyes affectionately at him. “Come on,” he lifted the textbook to read from it, flipping through the pages, “you must know all this stuff already.”

“I can guarantee you I will forget everything if I don’t follow my schedule.”

“Sure, babe.”

Virgil didn’t seem to notice the way Logan’s breath hitched at the nickname, too distracted skimming through biomolecules and natural cycles.

“Just give me my book back,” he insisted, though losing some of his resolve.

Virgil handed it to him anyway. “Fine. But I’ll be waiting for the next break, you have to be ready.”

With heat rising to his face once again, Logan moved to sit with his back against the bed. Virgil followed, sitting next to him, leaving some room between that Logan was grateful for.

He turned towards Logan and laid a hand on his knee. “If that’s something you want, of course.”

Logan thought for a second. He did like kissing, but he didn’t know what other stuff Virgil had in mind. “It, uh, it is,” he stuttered, looking at Virgil’s hand, “but… there might be some… other things… that I don’t want to do.” He wasn’t sure how he felt yet, even less how to express it.

Nevertheless, Virgil seemed to grasp the idea. “No, yes, of course. I, um, hadn’t actually considered doing anything of the sort. You’re not even eighteen yet.”

Logan bit his lip, still struggling with the words. “Right. I’m just not sure that I want to do it, like…” he took a deep breath, “ever.”

A soft “oh” was all he could hear, not daring to look at the other’s expression. Then, Virgil withdrew from Logan’s knee in favor of holding his hand. “That’s alright,” he whispered.

Logan’s heart was leaping inside his chest, his fingers were shaking. Virgil’s hand rubbed over his, helping him regulate his breathing and alleviate the nervousness.

“Hey.” Virgil squeezed Logan’s hand lightly, prompting him to look up towards his face. “It’s alright.”

Logan looked at the other’s dark eyes for a moment, gradually more tranquil. He glanced back at the book on his lap, then reached for the watch. Looking at the time, he murmured, “Maybe I can take a longer break.”

Grinning, Virgil shifted a bit closer, laying his arm around Logan. He kissed Logan’s forehead, then rested his head on top of his. Logan felt less overwhelmed this time. He could definitely get used to the contact.

They spent the rest of the afternoon in that position, either reading, chatting or laughing. It turned out to be one of the first times that Logan felt genuinely listened to, and he looked forward to a future just like this.

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#logan sanders #virgil sanders #sanders sides #janus sanders #analogical #ts

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kurokoros · 1 year

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You don't have to answer this bc again, I don't really want to escalate things. But I found the person, and when I saw who is mutuals with them or even liked certain stuff, I was so disappointed, especially in one person who I followed since 2019. They all act like people over 25 are immature for liking certain things or preferring ships over others. Meanwhile, they are the immature ones. And to announce you have chats where you make fun of others isn't grown up either. If you don't like others, just block them, don't make posts for others to join in. I thought tumblr was more chill. Apparently, I lived under a rock. This entire situation is disappointing, and tbh it makes me also feel unsafe. I usually keep to myself anyway because I already have trouble finding my place (a me problem) but now even if I were to post something I feel like people would take it to make fun of me behind my back. Honestly, when I found this out yesterday, something in me shattered, it's like high school over again.

I'm just blown away by everything I managed to dig up yesterday (when I see drama I always check to make sure I'm not following anyone blatantly harassing others + block the person in question if I find them) and dear god everyone involved just seems messy in the worst way.

I'm so incredibly tired of the early 20s crowd acting like their life is over once they hit 25. As I mentioned in a previous post, that mindset is what had me spiraling when I was close to turning 24. I had a breakdown yesterday because I turn 26 in a month and I feel like I don't have my shit together. I'm still trying to work through detangling the toxic mindset of thinking there's an imaginary expiration date on enjoying things. That's not how it works!

And the one argument I keep seeing repeated is "why are you sexualizing these teenage characters??? why are you imagining smut scenarios of them in high school???" Well maybe because most people are well-adjusted enough to separate fiction from reality when the high schooler in question is being played by a nearly 30 year old man. If someone wants to write their exhibitionist fantasy about being fucked in a locker room or bathroom at a party while other people are around, who cares? It's not hurting anyone!

I won't speak much on having private chats to talk about people you don't like, because I've done that in previous fandoms, with the difference being I wasn't openly harassing the people in question, and my friends weren't also friends with whoever we were talking about. It's fine to not get along with certain people. What isn't okay is pretending to be friends with someone that you regularly talk shit about in private.

I've watched a situation exactly like this go down before, and you want to know how it ended? The person at the center of things finally got caught when people started realizing that she was talking shit about them to others. She was talking shit about everyone to everyone else, and it all came out in one massive shit storm that ended with her abandoning her blog and never coming back because she burned all of her bridges and no one was going to tolerate that kind of behavior anymore.

This situation is disappointing. I don't blame you at all for feeling that way. I also don't blame you for feeling uncomfortable in the fandom. It's incredibly draining to be worried about your "friends" talking badly about you to each other. Usually those worries are just a product of anxiety and hold no weight, but after yesterday I don't think I'd trust anyone in the ST fandom to not talk shit about me. And, as you mentioned, this isn't high school anymore. I'm not going to put up with that kind of behavior.

Anon, if you ever need someone to talk to, feel free to message me in whatever way you feel comfortable.

#alisha babbles #anonymous #discourse.regrettably #actually this definitely falls under the definition of fandom wank but I need a simple tag to remember

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john-langley-bristol-blogger · 4 months

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The Whole World's Going to Hell in a Handcart, it seems!

The entire world's going to hell in a handcart, it seems.

From someone who formerly had a reasonably high profile, both here, and around the world, my decision to step back from the torchlight, rather that spotlight to a more comfortable life of complete obscurity has provided me with a front-row seat to observe the lunacy of other humans I share this planet with: and it's a shit show, putting it bluntly.

Today I caught a brief, thankfully, glimpse of a shadow health politician proudly announcing the introduction of teeth-brushing classes in schools should his party be elected to govern the country, and this further reinforced just how absolutely on-point I was in my previous blog post when I referred to this country, never mind the rest of the world, becoming increasingly screwed by the 'Millennials' and their 'Gen X' offspring. Dumbing down on just about everything from music to even uni courses nowadays suggests the common denominator that joins the dots is to present everything at bottom of the barrel level so that understanding couldn't be any simpler. Frustrating for those with a higher level of common sense and intelligence, and a walk in the park for the majority who are taken to be as thick as two short planks.

I just ran a quick scan of useless university courses, more aptly described perhaps as studying for a hobby. Take, for instance, 'Viticulture and Oenology.' It sounds fascinating, right? Well, that is until you realise that to flog it to eighteen-year-olds as 'wine making and brewing' doesn't sound anywhere near as attractive as a selling point for probably a twenty of thirty grand course with a degree in getting pissed. My understanding as most students do this every weekend and don't need a bloody degree in it. All these Viticulture and Oneology students need to add is a Masters in cannabis plant growing, and let's face it, all angles of student life outside of studies I'd say were covered.

Okay, how about this for you? Floral Design. Now, I won't say too much about this one as Ricky Gervais has already covered it in his show 'Armageddon' and he is far better than I can ever aspire to be when it comes to jocular commentary - after all, it's his job and he gets paid for it! However, It's basic bloody flower arranging, that with a few self-help books and an artistic eye, a five-year-old could probably do with a little help from an older family member.

If, on the other hand, you're into saving people from swallowing poo, syringe needles, used sanitary towels, and toilet paper, then the following course for you is, wait for it, 'Surf Science.' Yes, believe it, or not, that white foamy stuff you see rolling in towards the beach is surf, and there's a science to it.

Now, personally speaking, in my obvious ignorance I wouldn't have thought there was too much science to this, as a quick search on Google informs me that "Waves come from the wind, plus, the wind blows strongest when isobars are close together in a low-pressure system," - and hey presto, I've just saved myself from three years of study and a minimum of just over nine grand for the foundation course alone. I wonder if they've created a degree course specifically teaching children to brush their teeth yet? Oh, wait, that's probably to come. You see, these courses are all, perhaps, very well and good, however, I somehow don't really see the best of them in flower arranging, or winemaking taking on the likes of Oxford's Magdalen College in a round of University Challenge - and if I ever do it will be the final confirmation that this country really has hit rock bottom and we are all well and truly fucked!

Trust me, by all accounts we're on the way right now because those millennials and their offspring have enjoyed the benefits of a relatively cushy lifestyle where needs have been met, for the most part by the state, and yet feel fit to complain that they are somehow still hard done by, and life is unfair. My heart bleeds for them, of course, and my advice, as always, is to find a hard shoulder to cry on - of which the M1 has plenty, and to make sure in doing so that rush hour would be the best time by far.

Better still, next time there is another of these ludicrous 'marches for Palestine, and those attending really want to get their message out there, the M1 starts at Edgware in north London and ends between Micklefield and Aberford, just outside Leeds. Trust me, they'll have news media flooding in from around the world to convey their protest. Why not, when the equally delusional 'Just Stop Oil' and similar protest groups have pioneered the way in respect of impeding traffic - and who knows, this may even be another useless university course in the making, along with basket weaving for other basket cases that will be specifically designed for Millennials and their Gen X offspring.

Now, believe it, or not, I have nothing against protests per se. However, to us sane people, you'd think that even the micro-iota of common sense would inform those marching for Palestine are giving Hamas: a proscribed terrorist organisation, by the way, the kind of global publicity they couldn't buy if they hired the world's best publicists, and make this group appear like normal, rational, human beings when their modus operandi could be described as being somewhere to the right of Genghis Khan, and terrorism is the new 'cool'. Having said that, I'm in no way dismissing the fact that there are two sides to this conflict and there are questions to be asked of Israel's IDF also. However, apart from the feeling I have that Israel is very much the underdog given that Islam extremists insist on death to all Jews, it's the very same extremists who don't care who dies in their war, and this includes women and children, as it's all in the name of Allah anyway.

Do you remember in my previous blogpost, how I referred to language now more commonly being distorted from its original meaning to whatever someone chooses it to be nowadays? Well, here's yet another word to add to the collection, 'genocide.' You see, I would call Hitler's eradication of the Jews to be genocide, which oddly enough, seems to bear an uncanny resemblance to that of Islam versus Jews: and purely coincidental, of course. Or am I being my default cynical self?

Look at it this way, is Israel carpet-bombing Palestine? I think not. Are Israeli troops mowing down every Palestinian in sight? I think not. Is Israel deploying deadly chemicals over Palestine? Again, I think not. Yet, language has now become so confusing in interpretation that Israel is facing a charge brought to a top United Nations court by South Africa. So, do you not find it more than a little odd that among the judges hearing this case is one from Russia (don't mention the war on Ukraine, among other things). One from China, which, of course, is the bastion of human rights issues. Another from Somalia, where terrorist attacks targeting places frequented by civilians are commonplace and indiscriminate, and lastly, let's not forget Uganda, who seem well on their way to an entry in the Guinness Book Of Records where their human rights are concerned:

Significant human rights issues include credible reports of unlawful or arbitrary killings, including extrajudicial killings; forced disappearance; torture, and cases of cruel, inhuman, or degrading treatment or punishment by government agencies; harsh and life-threatening prison conditions; arbitrary arrest or detention; political prisoners or detainees; serious problems with the independence of the judiciary; arbitrary or unlawful interference with privacy; punishment of family members for alleged offenses by a relative; serious abuses in a conflict, including unlawful civilian harm; serious restrictions on freedom of expression and media, including violence, threats of violence, and unjustified arrests or prosecution of journalists, and censorship; serious restrictions on internet freedom; substantial interference with the freedom of peaceful assembly and freedom of association, including overly restrictive laws on the organization, funding, or operation of nongovernmental organizations and civil society organizations; serious flaws with citizens’ ability to determine their government through free and fair elections; serious and unreasonable restrictions on political participation; serious government corruption; serious government restrictions on or harassment of domestic and international human rights organizations; lack of investigation of and accountability for gender-based violence, including domestic and intimate partner violence, sexual violence, and child, early, and forced marriage; crimes involving violence or threats of violence targeting lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer, or intersex persons; and the existence of laws criminalizing consensual same-sex sexual conduct between adults, albeit not fully enforced. Well, I'm surprised this Kangaroo court didn't include a Saudi judge too! Aren't you?

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moonchild-things · 1 year

Text

Chapter Nine: Letters from their Boys

Summary: Beauxbaton’s biggest prankster has finally been expelled from the French boarding school. Having limited choices, Iris Evans is sent to join her sister at Hogwarts. As she adjusts to the new scenery, Lily’s twin makes new friends with a different array of people. Though there was no doubt that she would become friends with the Marauders.

Word Count: 5543

Blog Masterlist | Foxy Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

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BRIGHT CHRISTMAS LIGHTS DECORATED THE EVERGREEN TREE that was in the Evans living room. It was early in the morning and everyone in the house was excited for Christmas. There were presents already under the tree in many different colored boxes. The clinking of glasses and bowls echoed in the kitchen as Octavia pulled out dishes to use for breakfast. She was ready to make a delicious breakfast for her family like she always did every year.

She pulled down pots and pan from the cupboards, grabbed produce from the fridge and looked for the proper utensils to cook with. She planned on cooking a large, hearty breakfast for the rest of the Evans clan. She knew how her husband and Iris could inhale their foods at a fast pace which meant that she had to cook mounds of food just to appease both of them.

She quickly grabbed some slices of bacon and put them in a pan. She pulled out flour, milk, and eggs and mixed them all together to make her infamous, fluffy pancakes. She worked around the kitchen gracefully as if she was a dancer.

Craig stretched his stiff back as he entered the kitchen from the hallway. His hair was a complete mess and looked as though he had just stuck his finger in an electrical socket. He yawned loudly and stumbled into the kitchen towards his wife.

He wrapped his arms around her waist as soon as he stood behind her. He sighed contently and kissed the side of her head. "Good morning, wife."

Octavia giggled as he hugged her waist tightly, "good morning, husband."

Craig stood with his wife in his arms as he watched her work her magic on the food. Despite having been married for over twenty years, Craig could never get used to the fact that he was able to call Octavia his wife. He was always on cloud nine due to the fact that he was living with his one true love who he never thought would say yes to him. Not only that, but he also had three lovely daughters with her that were just as beautiful as their mother. Most days, he would have to pinch himself to make sure that this wasn't all some elaborate dream.

"Would you like some help?"

Octavia laughed and looked over her shoulder with a teasing smile, "and let you burn something? I'd rather not have my kitchen go up in flames today, Craig."

Craig pouted but didn't object. He may love to eat, but he couldn't even make toast if he tried! The entire Evans family have forgotten the number of times Craig had nearly burned the house down when he tried to surprise his family with home-cooked meals. Of course, after a while, everyone decided that he was never to be left alone in the kitchen, ever.

Craig buried his head into Octavia's neck and kissed it lightly. "I suppose that's a good reason." He chuckled along with her as his heart swelled at the sound. God, he felt like a teenager in love sometimes with his wife.

Their daughters had been home for a few days at that point. Craig and Octavia spent all of their time listening to Lily talk about her classes and their upcoming exams, the dreaded O.W.L.s. At the same time, Iris was complaining loudly about them and how she didn't want to take them, at all. They did have to remind her that she needed to take the exams in order to not only pass her fifth year but also get a job after her schooling. Though most of the time they were able to stop her whining by asking about her pranks(especially the one that she had done at the begging of the year. Octavia just about chewed her ear off over getting a letter from the school about it. She nearly had a heart attack because she thought Iris had gotten herself expelled once again.). Petunia also barely gave them time to themselves as she would talk to them about her newest beau and their plans with each other (which always cause Craig's blood to boil).

The two of them hadn't had a moment to themselves in these past few days. They wanted to savor the short time they had together in that early morning without having to worry about any of the girls who were currently sound asleep in their beds. They did love their daughters unconditionally, but, every once in a while, they really wanted to enjoy just each others company.

Amidst their lovey-dovey moment, a constant tapping echoed in the kitchen. The two abruptly turned to the window that showcased the backyard. In the window was a moderately sized burgundy owl with two letters held in its beak.

The two glanced at each other before looking at the owl that held, what was no doubt, letters for Iris and/or Lily. Octavia walked out of her husband's arms and over to the window. She opened it up and let the poor owl who had to fly through the cold weather into the house where it fluttered over to the kitchen table. With the owl, a gust of frigid air bombarded the kitchen which caused Octavia and Craig to shiver.

They stared at the bird for a moment as it hopped around the kitchen table while hooting. It extended its neck towards Craig who stared at the bird worriedly. No matter how many times owls had flown to their house during the years the girls were at school, he could never get used to a domesticated animal such as an owl. He plucked two letters from the owls awaiting beak. It hooted once again and nipped lightly at his hand for attention. It was obviously looking for some sort of payment.

Craig disregarded the owl and instead looked down at the letters. "Looks like the twins have mail," he commented towards Octavia who was giving the tired owl some snacks.

She hummed, "I'm surprised that the girls hadn't gotten mail sooner. Who are they from?" He observed the letters and pouted. He didn't recognize the handwriting as any of the girls' friends. They weren't from anyone who attended Beauxbatons for Iris, however, they could be from a new friend that Iris made. Though now that he observed the one that was written with Lily's name on it, he groaned. "What?"

"Oh. They must be from that Potter boy…" He grumbled unhappily. He had half the mind of shredding the letters to tiny unreadable pieces. He had grown tired with the number of letters that Lily received from the boy since her first year at Hogwarts. He had half the mind to march up to that castle and find the boy who most certainly was obsessed with his youngest daughter. Though his wife was always there to reassure him that despite the boy writing an abysmal amount of letters to Lily over the vacations, it most likely didn't mean anything. Though he was still on edge about a boy being infatuated with his little girl. He didn't think she was ready to date a boy as he knew what boys got up to when they were teenagers.

The one addressed to Iris was not written in the same handwriting he had come to despise, and Craig could only dread the thought that another boy had become infatuated with his other daughter. It was bad enough that Lily was being pursued by some toe-rag (her words) and Petunia was head over heels with a man who Craig barley approved of, Vernon Dursley. Now Iris was being dragged into the drama with boys!

Yes, he had a feeling that Iris did have a thing with boys and tended to pal around with them more often than girls. However, he at least hoped that Iris wouldn't bother with boys for a while. By a while, he meant when he was long gone, so he wouldn't have to see some strange boy take her away from him. He knew Petunia was dying to get out and live her own life with a husband and he wished that wasn't true. The Potter boy also seemed to be trying to sweep Lily off her feet and he dreaded the day she told him that they were a couple. If Iris was stolen from him by a boy as well, then all of his little girls would grow up quick. He didn't want his little girls to grow up yet!

"James?" Octavia laughed lightly as she heard the loathing tone in her husband's voice. It didn't matter that it was James Potter, another boy could be courting any of their daughters and Craig would be just as upset about it. She was okay with her daughters dating. It would be quite hypocritical of herself if she didn't allow her own daughters to date as she used to date at their age. She approached him and peered over his shoulder to see the letters. She raised an eyebrow, "is he writing to Iris now, as well?"

"No, it looks like someone else is writing to Iris."

Octavia shook her head and plucked the letters out of Craig's hands as she could tell he was on the verge of tearing them apart. "They are getting to that age, Craig. Boys are starting to notice them and I would think they're starting to notice those boys."

Craig just about screamed at her words in horror as he didn't want to accept that fact, "no!"

"Merlin," Iris cringed as she stumbled into the kitchen with her hand over her ears. "What's wrong, dad?" She heard her father's shout and nearly fell over at the abrupt sound. For once she had actually woken up early due to it being Christmas Eve when her mother cooked a large breakfast. There was no way she was going to miss out on her mother's homemade meal!

Craig stared at her with wide eyes as if he was just caught with his hand in a cookie jar. He chuckled nervously, "nothing, nothing at all, Iris!"

She eyed him skeptically with pursed lips, "right…"

Octavia rolled her eyes at his dramatics and approached her daughter. "You and Lily got mail," she handed the letters to her while motioning to the owl who was hopping around the kitchen table.

Lily's eyebrows furrowed as she took the letters, "must be from Marlene or Wendy, I was suspecting they would be writing to us…" He sentence stopped when she saw the handwriting on the outside of the letters that were distinctly James' and Sirius'. "Oh," she smirked.

"'Oh'?" Craig asked almost urgently as he didn't like the expression on her face, "so you know who's writing you?"

Iris nodded her head and smirked at her father's alarmed state at the letters that he must have realized were from a pair of boys. "Yes, obviously Lily's is from her admirer… and mine is from my own." She shrugged her shoulders as if it wasn't a big deal and turned to head back to her bedroom.

She was able to hear her father's slightly angered, annoyed, and shocked shout of; "admirer!" before she disappeared down the hall with a snicker.

She would have gotten to her room scot-free if it wasn't for the milky white door of her older sister room being thrown open. Petunia's hair was a birds nest as her pajamas were completely disheveled and obviously showed that she had just rolled out of bed. Iris flashed a sarcastic smile, "well, good morning, sister dearest. Don't you look beautiful this morning!"

Petunia scowled at her freaky, younger sister and almost growled at her appearance. She held her nose high in the air to display her superiority she thought she held over the younger girl. Iris rolled her eyes at her attempt of trying to show that she was better than her as she was used to it at that point. Honestly, Iris would say that all three of them, her, Lily, and Petunia, had a close bond when they were younger. Even when the girls found out that they were witches, Petunia was just as excited for them as their parents. She even liked reading some of the books that Lily had and the eating the sweets and playing jokes that Iris would bring home.

Then after the twins actually did go to their respective schools, Petunia became cold and distant. Iris did miss the close bond that she had with her older sister but after she had constantly insulted her and Lily so much, Iris didn't bother trying to have a civil relationship with her. If Petunia wanted to act like a child and call them names, then Iris had no problem with retaliating by the means of pranks and snide remarks.

"Stuff it, freak!" Petunia exclaimed.

Iris smirked in amusement, "oh. Good come back, sure as hell scared me!"

Petunia huffed and clenched her fists. She stared at the amusement that danced on Iris' face with a frown. Iris infuriated her to no end. She hated the pranks she pulled, she hated the jokes she told, she hated the stories she told of her other freaky, little friends, she hated the gifts she would bring back from her schools… Maybe it wasn't really Iris fault that she hated her, but Petunia didn't want to blame herself for her own emotions…She hated her sister!

She shoved past Iris and pushed her into the opposing wall before stalking away towards the kitchen. Iris watched her go with a glare as she adjusted her band t-shirt and brushed it off as if Petunia had just whipped something onto it.

She straightened herself and continued to the end of the hallway to her shared bedroom. She wouldn't let Petunia get her into a bad mood like usually. It was Christmas Eve, after all. Plus she had these wonderful letters still clutched in her hand that herself and Lily had to read.

Iris sauntered through the door of her bedroom to find that Lily was wide awake and making her bed. The more mischievous twin snuck up behind Lily and jumped on her as soon as she had made her bed neatly. Lily yelped as she and her twin tumbled onto her nicely made bed. "Iris!"

The older girl only laughed in response as they bounce on the cream white bed as she could tell her sister was annoyed with her disturbance. "Lighten up, Lil. I've got a present for you!" She sang happily with an underlying tone of teasing mixed within her words.

Lily eyed her in confusion, "it's Christmas Eve, Iris. You're supposed to give me a present tomorrow morning…"

"Yes, yes, I know," she waved her hand dismissively before smirking, "but I'm quite sure James would rather you open it now."

At the mention of the annoying boy, Lily instantly stood up and regained her wits, "Potter!?"

Iris laughed at her sister's frightened look, "calm down," she pulled Lily by her arm and back onto her bed with a satisfying bounce. "It's not as bad as the others, I promise." Lily glared at her skeptically and Iris shrugged her shoulders. "Okay, well, I don't exactly know what it is, but what harm can a letter do?"

She handed (more like shoved) the letter to Lily and looked at her expectantly to open it. Lily eyed her a moment longer before turning her suspicious gaze to the letter in her hands. She knew that she would get a present from James at some point either before, during or after Christmas. She had gotten many presents from James ever since first year. Birthday presents, Christmas presents, Valentines Day presents, you name it. If it was some sort of holiday, James never missed the opportunity of giving her something. Most of the time the presents were of some sort of Quidditch team that Lily never cared about or something to do with Gryffindor. She never did like his presents, as she never liked him. Though she didn't expect James to write her a Letter. Just a letter.

With each present she received, she did always get a letter or some sort in which James would profess his love for her and ask her out. However, this was something new to her. It must have meant something bad, for James to only send a letter like this. No doubt in her mind it would just be an extensive list of reasons why she should go out with him and how he loved her so dearly. But from the expectant look on Iris' face, she was just as curious to know what James had to say.

They both knew James was more of a materialistic type of person and not so good with his words. So for him to only rely on writing something… was suspicious to say the least. "Oh, come on, you must be a little bit curious," Iris asked as she crossed her legs and leaned towards Lily.

Lily bit her lip in contemplation, "there must be something else that he sent… He couldn't have just mailed one letter…"

"Nothing else came with his owl," Iris said with a smirk. She gripped Lily's shoulder and shook it, "Now open it, I want to see what James had to say this time!" She cleared her throat, "Oh, my dear, lovely, beautiful flower! I shall love you for all eternity!" She mimicked James' voice the best she could, "date me!" She brought her sister into an embrace while squishing her tightly.

Lily squirmed and tried to break free of her sister's hold as she not only grew uncomfortable but also flustered at her teasing. She finally escaped Iris' hold and huffed in annoyance, "stop it, Iris! You're just as irritating as Potter."

"Oh, admit it, you love all the attention he gives you." Iris smugly said as she crossed her arms over her chest in triumph. Although, while she was blinded by her smugness, she hadn't realized that she just showed Lily the letter that Sirius had sent her.

"Did your precious boyfriend send you a letter as well," Lily pointed at the letter in her hands which caused Iris to instantly try to hide it from view.

"Nope!"

Lily tilted her head with a teasing expression as she tried to give Iris a taste of her own medicine. "Come on, you don't have to hide what Sirius gave you."

Iris rolled her eyes, "why do you suspect it's from Sirius? For all you know it could be from James." She really didn't want to let Lily know about Sirius' letter. Of course, Iris had yet to even take a peek into what was written on the parchment though she was slightly giddy to know what he had to say. She would never admit out loud about her emotions as she was slightly confused as to why she wanted to know what he wrote. She tried to pass it off as her missing his presence and messing around with him. She just missed seeing the embarrassment that would paint his face when she was able to flirt with him in front of people. Come to think of it… She missed staying up late with him and confiding in each other with their thoughts and problems… She missed seeing his mischievous grey eyes, his contagious smirk, his laughter… She shook her head out of her confusing thoughts and gulped slightly. Just because she missed certain aspects of Sirius didn't mean anything! Lily's words were getting to her! There was no way that Iris Evans fancied… Sirius Black…

"First, Sirius is staying with the Potter's for the break, second, he would not pass up the opportunity to have some sort of interaction with you, and third, that's his horrendous handwriting." Lily puffed out her chest in accomplishment as she stated how she knew Sirius wrote to her sister. She suspected that now Iris had started… some sort of relationship with Sirius that would no doubt become something more than just friends, Sirius would write to her and send her presents just like James did. The two boys were like twins themselves and did everything together. Yes, they were their own separate people, but there were times where they acted like the other. Lily had no doubt that in another life, the two were twin brothers.

Iris was silent as she considered her words and, yes, those were valid reasons. Iris also expected for Sirius to write to her because she was able to grab onto Sirius' emotions like she had to others in the past. The only difference was that Iris was… how would she describe it… anxious? Nervous? Perhaps that’s what it was. She was… excited for his letter. Oh, Merlin! Something was seriously wrong with her!

"Just read your letter Lily, I'm quite sure you don't want to read the more… crude things Sirius has written to me." Iris smirked as she watched Lily pale at the implication she was trying to say. Iris only winked while letting the notion sit and fester in Lily's mind before hopping over to her own bed and getting comfy.

Iris watched as Lily hesitantly opened up her letter. Lily's delicate hands pulled out the multiple papers that were painted in ink. Iris had wondered if James had written her a novel with the amount of parchment paper Lily pulled out of the envelope. Lily's face scrunched up in distaste as she started to read the first few words. After a moment, her face instantly was flooded with red as the dark hue swallowed each of her pale cheeks. The embarrassment that consumed her body was quite evident to Iris who could only snicker at her expression.

"What's the letter say, Lil?" She sang in amusement. Lily only glared back at her, however, it lost its intimidation because of her flaming cheeks.

Iris snickered while shaking her head and tore open her own letter in order to pull out the parchment. Compared to Lily's letter, it was far shorter than what James had written to her. Instead of about five lengthy pages of his declaration of love, Sirius had only written one page to Iris. She was at least grateful that SIrius wasn't that obsessed with her to write something as long as James had.

'Dear Princess,

I hope that your Christmas is going well so far. I know mine has been quite boring without seeing you. James has started to get annoying and has been begging to see his 'precious Lily' ever since we arrived at his home. Though I want to see you as much as he wants to see Lily. I can barely wait for the party you invited us to. I wish I could see you now because I can barely spend any longer away from you. That sounds cheesy doesn't it? Doesn't matter, it still stands. I miss pulling pranks with you and talking with you at our midnight rendezvous. It's been quite lonely without hearing your voice, even if James is here. I guess… I just miss you. I suppose I can survive a short time longer without you though it will be hell. Especially with James going on and on about your sister. However, he does say I do the same with you… We'll see you in a few days. Then we can finally have some fun together.

Love,

Sirius

Iris gnawed at her lip as she tried to keep the smile off of her face. She was already having a hard trying to keep the rosy paint of a blush off of her cheekbones. Merlin, if Lily saw her flustered state, Iris knew that she would tease her mercilessly. Who knew that Sirius was going to miss her so much… Iris had an inkling feeling that Sirius would miss her a tad bit, but she never imagined that she would miss him just as much…

"What did Sirius say?" Lily pulled her sister out of her thoughts as she tried to peer at the letter. Iris quickly folded the letter back up with care before Lily could catch a glimpse of what Sirius had written.

Iris flashed her the best smirk she could muster in order to hide her flustered appearance. "nothing that you would wish to read, Lil. It's far to private for even you to know." Hopefully Lily would just focus on the possible lewd letter that Sirius had written Iris and not notice the fact that Iris was becoming increasingly flustered by Sirius’ letter.

Lily cleared her throat and rolled her eyes. Of course, even though Sirius and Iris were separated they were both still flirting like they weren't apart. Although she didn't have to know that the letter itself was a tad bit more… heartfelt than it was flirtatious. Iris only chuckled under her breath and took one long glance at the letter before standing up to put in away in her desk neatly. She wanted to make sure that the letter wasn't tampered with at all as she knew Lily would try to read it.

She didn't want to admit out loud that she felt warm and fuzzy inside due to Sirius' letter. She didn't want Lily to rub in her face that she was right about either her or Sirius falling for each other. Honestly, Iris didn't want to be proven wrong. Damn her pride and her inability to admit she was wrong. For now, she would just intentionally drown herself in denial. At least, until someone dragged her out of the rushing waves.

---

The smells of a delicious breakfast flew through the Evans house that beckoned the entire family into the small kitchen. Iris' mouth watered as she gazed on the table that was overflowing with succulent looking foods that she had missed while at school. The Evans family were huddled around the small kitchen table that had six seats at it. As the man of the house, Craig sat at the head of the table as he stared at the food just as hungrily as his daughters.

Octavia sat across from him on the other side of the table as she finally sighed in relief as she finished placing the last piping hot plate of sausages onto the mahogany table. Petunia glared at nothing in particular as she sat next to Lily on the left side of the table. If she had it her way, Petunia would have taken her plate, piled it with some food, and disappeared into her room so she didn't have to be anywhere near her freakish sisters. Iris was drooling on the other side of the table across from her sisters as she looked about ready to tear into the food in front of her like a starved Hippogriff.

Octavia laughed lightly at the longing looks on her daughter and husband's face, "you both look quite hungry."

Iris nodded her head in a trance, "yeah." She licked her lips in anticipation, "I've really missed your cooking, mum."

Octavia could see how Iris was holding herself back from lunging across the table and stuffing her face full of food. She swatted her daughters hand as she reached for a biscuit, "not yet. We've got to wait for Quinn."

She watched as Iris' bottom lip was jutted out as she pouted, "but mum! Quinny wouldn't mind!"

"She'll be here soon," her mother fondly chuckled at the impression that consumed the girl. This caused Iris to huff hotly as she crossed her arms in hopes of stopping herself from potential reaching out for the food. She could only gaze on them as they taunted her with mouthwatering smells. Her father wasn't doing so well either as he sat on his hands to stop himself. What could they say… They loved Octavia's cooking! "What about school, girls?" She asked in hopes of distracting them.

Iris sighed and shrugged her shoulders, "it's the same old same old, Hogwarts is smaller than Beauxbatons and whatnot. And to be honest, the classes are easier."

"That's not all," Lily interjected, "Iris has gotten far too many detentions this year!"

Iris glared at her sister for revealing that, but she didn't think it would really matter as it was nothing that their family wouldn't have thought would happen. "How many?" Craig asked with a sigh.

Iris tilted her head back and forth in contemplation, "Nearly one every night and weekend."

"Iris Evans!" Octavia exclaimed with only a small hint of shock and disbelief. It didn't matter if she reprimanded or punish Iris, she was going to continue to get into trouble.

"It isn't always my fault, honest!" Iris yelped in hopes that her parents wouldn't punish her by not letting her eat something.

"Oh? And who's fault is it that you constantly keep getting detentions?" Caig raised an eyebrow as he started to speculate. He had a slight inkling feeling that he already knew who the culprits were…

Iris' eye twinkled with trouble as she smirked, "the Marauders, of course."

Octavia turned to Lily, "isn't that the group of troublesome boys in your year?"

Lily nodded her head, "yes."

At the same time, Craig's eyes darted between the women at the table, "boys? Like that Potter boy?"

"Yup! They're some of my new friends," Iris explain as she could see the panic seemingly consumed her father's entire body. "Though I have to say that it's more James and Sirius' fault than anything."

"Sirius?" Her parents asked at the same time. Octavia's tone was more in curiosity and Craig's was obviously in alarm.

Lily couldn't help herself, "oh, yes, Iris' precious boyfriend."

Craig just about had a heart attack at his youngest daughters words. Boyfriend!? Iris' boyfriend!? He had a hard time stopping himself from falling out of his chair and passing out at the notion of his little girl already having some sort of boy claiming her. Oh God, he didn't think he could take it!

Iris grumbled, "he's not my boyfriend."

Octavia leaned on her elbows and leaned towards her middle child, "really?" She heard the flustered tone behind Iris' words and instantly became intrigued by the possible emotions that her daughter decided to keep hidden.

Iris rolled her eyes at the hopeful look on her mother's face as she realized what her mother wanted to hear. "Yes, he is not my boyfriend and never will be."

Craig slumped in his chair and held his hand over his chest in relief, "thank God." He cleared his throat as he saw the looks he was earning from his family. Both Lily and Iris were staring at him with blank expressions, Petunia was scowling, as always, and Octavia was looking at him in amusement. "You shouldn't be dating at this age, girls. You should be focusing on school and getting a job before getting involved with a relationship."

Iris let out a laugh, "I'm pretty sure that you just don't want me to date."

"No, no, you have far more important things to worry about, is all."

All of the women nodded their head sarcastically save Petunia who was still sulking at the table. Octavia turned to Iris, "are the… Marauders," she found the name to be somewhat strange, but what did she expect from a group of wizarding boys, "coming over on New Year's Eve?"

Iris smiled, "of course they are!"

Before Craig could protest about letting these boys who were constantly going after his daughters into his home, the front door burst open. Cold air rushed through the open door as a few quick snowflakes fluttered to the ground on the carpet which effectively started to dampen the red carpet. Quinn Adams, bundled in a thick coat and covered just about head to toe in snow. She shivered and shut the front door while pulling off her hood to show her rosy, aged face. Her smile lit up the already bright room as she sighed in pleasure.

"Oh, it's nice in here!" She unbundled herself from her layers upon layers of coats, scarves, and mittens. "Happy Christmas!"

"Happy Christmas!" The Evans family exclaimed as they all got up from the table to greet the woman in the living room. Hugs were shared, cheeks were pinched and kissed, and soon enough all the seats at the table were occupied.

Without anyone saying anything, both Craig and Iris dug into the large breakfast and started to savor the food that they had been dying to eat. Laughter was shared between all of those at the table as they devoured Octavia's magnificent cooking. Of course, all talk about magic had ended due to Quinn's arrival but she had decided to man the conversation as she complained about the youth of their town not taking the time to read books.

Though the house was still filled with Christmas spirit despite Quinn's complaints and Petunia's refusal to talk to her sisters. Yet Iris couldn't wait to see what would happen when all of their friends finally arrived for the New Years Eve party in a few days. She had no doubt that things would become hectic around their home.

---

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madam-libraaarian · 2 years

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My Current Thoughts On My Novel

On Christmas Eve last year, I finished up the hefty round of rewriting I had been giving my manuscript for the last couple months. I started the new year eager to get my story under the eyes of some potential beta readers and maybe even an editor if I was lucky, because after five years, I was finally considering it done enough to be on the road to publishing. I held firmly onto this hope until one morning when, upon arriving at school, I was promptly pounced upon by my pretty-faced lab partner who had previously never spoken to me outside of asking me for a pencil or the answers to the previous night's homework but was now declaring that I had written the story of her life.

As I processed this statement, my initial reaction was elation. For a split second I was overwhelmed with joy in the success of my attempts at writing. I felt an unprecedented sense of pride at my ability to properly depict with empathy an experience I myself had never even come close to encountering. But then I felt my heart sink into my shoes as I realized what this meant. That this girl in front of me whom I'd previously written off as your average run-of-the-mill high school student had found kinship with a character in the saddest chapter of my story. I was suddenly struck with the realization that a scenario I had once come up with and since disregarded as the melodramatic, unrealistic imagination of a young teen was actually someone's real life. That the pain I had described thinking it was impossible for one person to have experienced all in one lifetime had in fact already been experienced by a child.

The notion was too much for me to handle at first, and I moved on as if I hadn't acknowledged it. I pretended my sudden hiatus had everything to do with me taking a supposedly well-deserved break and nothing to do with my sudden perception of my own shortcomings. But no matter how hard I tried, no matter how many months I pushed off the inevitable by writing story notes that would go nowhere and listening to songs like I could absorb their meaning by osmosis, this realization continued nagging at me. And finally a couple weeks ago, I decided to square my shoulders and face it. Face the realization that the story I had written was going to be seen and heard by lots of people, some of whom were going to find themselves in it. And if the things I hid for them to find in that story were not handled correctly, I would be causing them unimaginable harm.

And now I find myself staring down at my manuscript, wondering how its few scribbled pages can possibly hold so much responsibility without falling apart. How can the words I pecked out on a laptop at 1 AM be expected to hold the answers to someone's life? And as I search for the motivation to fix the scenes I've already identified as dangerous with this new knowledge, I wonder if it will ever be enough. Or if once I put out one fire, I will look up to find another and then another until I realize my entire story is nothing but one blazing inferno. My once beloved creation turned into my own personal hell. And I don't know how I'm ever going to do this.

But then I think of the writers who came before me. Who wrote the books that I searched for myself in and found comfort and solace instead. And I wonder if they ever felt the way I do. If the people I tribute as heroes were once sitting at their own laptops or typewriters asking themselves the same questions I am now. I wonder if they thought to themselves "there is no way I'm the right person to tell this story." But then they told it anyway. They told it to the world. And the world loved it and loved them for telling it the way only they could. So I will keep going. And maybe I will never be fully satisfied with this story I am trying to tell. But one day I will look at it and believe that it can save someone. If only for a moment.

#writing #sorry for the rant #ramble #i just have a lot of feelings

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jesse-eisenberg-interview · 15 years

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Zombieland's Jesse Eisenberg: 'I'm So Shocked Every Time I Get Into a Movie'

By: Seth Abramovitch|| September 30, 2009

JESSE EISENBERG: [He examines my T-shirt intently.] Sorry I have a final due today. I study contemporary architecture, so I've been looking at houses exactly from this weird perspective all day long.

MOVIELINE: It's the cover of a David Byrne album.

Oh, I see. OK.

Where are you studying architecture?

I go to the New School. I'm an anthropology major, but this class is contemporary architecture. 1920s on.

So you manage to keep up with your studies and pursue your acting career?

Yes. I made this zombie movie in the spring of this year so I couldn't go to school, but then I was enrolled for summer session because I wasn't hired to do any acting.

Hopefully no one snapped you napping in a class, like James Franco at Columbia.

Columbia is a much more difficult school. Two of my classes are online, so I could fall asleep without any consequence.

So what's your mood as we approach Zombieland's opening day?

My obsessive-compulsive disorder is out of control right now.

How does that manifest itself?

Well, I touch the tips of my fingers in a weird way; I don't step on cracks; if I'm going onto a new surface -- be it carpet to concrete, or concrete to wood, or wood to concrete, any new surface -- I have to make sure all parts of my feet touch equally the ground before I touch that new thing. So I'll often hesitate before walking into a new room. You know what I mean?

That's just a manifestation of anxiety?

Yeah.

It's not partially superstition, is it?

No, no. I don't think anything's going to happen.

Has that ever been a problem for you on set?

Um...It's...Yeah. Yeah, yeah. I'll put my hand down to touch something during a scene. It's distracting. It's terrible, just terrible.

Did a director ever point it out to you?

Um...no. I just play anxious people, so it becomes OK.

They think it's brilliant flourishes.

Exactly!

I think that has served you well as an actor. Take The Squid and the Whale, which is my favorite film of yours. Not many movies explore that very specific kind of anxiety divorce manifests on kids -- certainly not as well as that one did.

Oh, well I didn't write that. The writer is really, really brilliant. It was very autobiographical.

Zombieland seems quite a departure from the kinds of indie coming-of-age films you've done until now.

It's a bigger movie. It's a character-driven, verbal, funny, specific movie with well-rounded characters. I don't think it necessarily compromises any of those elements that you liked about my previous movies.

So you haven't "gone zombie" on us.

[Laughs] Um, no. It's a really funny movie. There are only four characters in the movie, and each character is not only played by an amazing actor -- there's two Academy Award nominees out of the four of us...not me -- but the characters are funny, well-rounded and interesting people.

How does your character serve the group?

I play Columbus. All our characters are named from the city that we're from, because Woody's character, Tallahassee, decides that if any of us know each other's names, it would be harder for us to kill one another if we've been bitten by a zombie. So to create some emotional distance, we name each other with what city we're from. My character is obsessed with survival. I have a list of 47 rules of how to survive in this post-apocalyptic zombie world -- Zombieland. Woody's character loves the fight, while I run away from the fight. So the two of us team up and kind of influence each other a little bit. I kind of make him a little more cautious and he teaches me to be a little more thrilled with killing zombies.

Did you ever foresee a moment in your career when you'd be shoulder-to-shoulder with Woody Harrelson fighting zombies?

No. I never thought I'd be in a movie to begin with. Every time they cast me -- and I'm not just saying this out of false modesty or humbleness -- like, I'm so shocked every time I get into a movie. And then after the movie is done I think I've totally failed and ruined this interesting movie. The movie comes out and I'm just embarrassed about myself in it.

Can you watch yourself in the films you've done? How do you react to yourself?

I hate watching me. I hate watching me. It just makes me feel awful. I think, I look stupid from that angle. I wish I didn't let them put that shirt on me.

Even after the initial shock wears off, can't you relax and think, "Wow. I really captured something there?"

No. I think I should have done it better or somebody else should have done it. Yeah, you never feel good. And then the times I feel really good after a scene, then I watch it and I'm like, uh, that was boring. From my acting training, you learn to just remain truthful, under what they call "imaginary circumstances." And so the time you feel most truthful is often boring. So often the times you really feel good with a scene don't coincide with the kinds of things one might like as a viewer, you know?

Did you start taking formal acting training after you starred in Rodger Dodger?

No. I was going to Performing Arts School on 48th St. in midtown Manhattan. We had formal acting training there. And I got into that movie because they got me to do a reading of it. The kids in my class were in Raising Victor Vargas, so they were casting for that movie out of our school. So I was studying back then.

It seems like you have trouble, for lack of a better way of putting this, becoming at peace with your craft.

Yeah, that's why I'm in therapy now. I talk about it every week. How to "make peace with the craft." That seems so nebulous. It's like, people who don't study it can get into movies and plays, and people who do study it quite often can't. Friends of mine went to Juilliard and can't get an off-Broadway play, let alone to get a lead role in a movie, and I haven't studied at Juilliard. I mean, it's a very kind of disconcerting profession. If you went to Harvard Medical School, chances are you'll be a doctor at some place. There's a career trajectory. Acting, there's nothing. It's constantly trying to procure jobs -- it's very disconcerting.

Is there a part of you that feels, well, hey, maybe I'm just a natural?

No. Because all "natural" is is basically nothing to fall back on. What is "natural?" It's a lack of any basis for anything. It's frightening. It's really frightening. I always feel like I'm five minutes away from getting kicked out of the hotel room that Sony paid for and having them clear out the minibar because I'm not allowed to take anything else.

Do you think your neuroses will get worse as you get older?

I'm on a strong regimen of pills that will hopefully make it better.

So am I.

How has it been for you?

Pretty good. I mean, sometimes you're just born with this shit and you just gotta make the best of it, you know?

It's funny you should say that, because I've always balked when people make a comment about Jewish neuroses. And yet...and yet.

Yeah. I think there's something there.

#jesse eisenberg #2009 #zombieland

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giaourtopita · 3 years

Text

oh no i was summoned by a religiously traumatised 17 year old and now i gotta babysit them

i got kinda stuck while planning out this chapter but i hope it turned out okay!! also i wholeheartedly believe that asmo would love getting summoned for styling tips and he's so wholesome too so he'd love to help!!

warnings; underage gn mc, religious trauma-ish, mc wears makeup.

< previous part

*a few more weeks had passed, mc didn't stop talking about demons. in fact, they got constantly scolded by their parents and teachers about it. what are you talking about mc? demons aren't nice, people kept telling them.*

* due to the differences between theirs and their classmates opinions, mc kept their distance from their peers. they also heard people talking about them behind their back so that made them even more motivated to stay away.*

*they didn't have many friends so it was a lot easier avoiding people. they were getting used to staying away from others so that left them with much more time to study the grimoire.*

*it was their birthday week so they decided to do something special for this occasion. they listened to satan talk about his brothers and thought one of his brothers would love the way decided to celebrate their birthday.*

*mc sat down and started the summoning spell they've been practising for the past few weeks. they decided to summon asmodeus. since they heard from satan about his interests they thought he would be a good fit for what they wanted to do.*

*asmodeus appeared in mc's room holding a big bag full of makeup products. mc got very excited as that was what they had in mind. they got close to him excited and so did he*

mc: satan told me about you and i got very excited to summon you.

*mc started looking at the ground kind of embarrassed and hesitant to ask him but they do it either way.*

mc: it's my birthday week so i thought i could summon you. since my birthday is soon i want to look better than usual and since you like all that stuff maybe you could show me.

*asmodeus looked around at mc's room and then looked them for a hot minute before saying anything.*

asmodeus: okay, i will help you but you'll also let me pick your outfits! and please call me asmo!

*mc looked at him excitedly before rushing to their closet and taking out all of their favourite pieces of clothing. asmo really like activities like this so he forgave them for interrupting his makeup routine.*

asmo: okay let's start!!

*asmo started looking at mc's clothes, trying to come up with some pretty school-appropriate outfits. after a while asmo was done making outfits, he showed everything to mc and even showed them how to accessorize. mc left the room with some of the outfits in their hands and put them on before coming back to their room to show asmo the outfit on them.*

asmo: let's put on some makeup too!

*asmo got a primer and started putting it all over mc's face. after that he also took a small amount of foundation that matched mc's skin perfectly. they didn't need concealer. he found a shiny eyeshadow that mc seemed to really like and finally he put on them some mascara, blush and highlighter.*

asmo: there, there you look almost as pretty as me now!! do want to take pictures? give me your phone i'll take them for you!!

*mc nodded and gave him their phone. he showed them how to pose and what facial expressions to use while being photographed.*

asmo: do a peace sign too!

*mc smiled for the photo and did a peace sign just as instructed. asmo showed them the pictures right after and they also took a selfie to remember how much fun they had that day.*

asmo: since we're done with all the styling, i'd like to ask you something... why are you summoning us? i heard some stuff from satan but could you explain to me what happened?

mc: i mean, i first summoned lucifer so he could explain some things to me but doing all these summoning and communication spells was really fun and since i'm not really popular with my classmates i don't get to hang out with people much so i find all that really fun. i'm sorry if you didn't want to get summoned.

asmo: no it's okay i find it really interesting that you were able to summon me without a pact!

mc: a pact? what's that?

asmo: a pact is an agreement, usually between a human and a demon. for example if we had a pact right now and you told me to make a spin i would just make a spin! but i think you should be close to the demon you want a pact with and i know this might sound weird coming from a demon but you should have good intentions, we know humans consider us bad but most bad things done by demons were orchestrated by humans. i like to think of us, demons, as morally grey. fallen angels are a bit different but still they're pretty similar to demons who were born demons.

mc: i'll keep that in mind when i make my first pact! thank you!

asmo: hmm, i'm afraid i have to go back home now. it's time for my daily mask routine and i really don't want to miss it!

mc: okay goodbye!! i'll contact you if i want to summon you again. it was really fun today, i hope we will do this again!!

*mc rushed to hug him goodbye before he teleported back to the house of lamentation.*

next part >

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphie #obey me leviathan #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me satan #obey me headcanon #obey me fanfic #obey me fluff #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me luke #obey me x mc #obey me headcanons

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missymurphy1985 · 3 years

Text

The Return

It's been 2 years since you were last in Dublin. 2 years since you up and left without warning, saying goodbye to your life there and restarting somewhere completely new. Sometimes, you have to go backwards in order to move forwards.

Requested by @noctvrnalmoth I hope you like it!

*Featuring Jim from the Delinquent Season*

Stepping off the train into the platform, you sighed. It all looked the same, and yet so different. Pulling the buggy open, you gently strapped your sleeping son in and made your way to the taxi rank, your suitcase trailing behind you. A kind lady helped you with your bags and waited with you for an available taxi.

"You look like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders there, are you okay?" She sat next to you on the bench as your son murmured adorably in his sleep. "Sorry, I don't mean to pry..."

"No don't be sorry.. just been a long time since I came back here is all. Few loose ends to tie up." You glanced at your son's sleepy features as his eyes started to open. Beautiful, ocean blue eyes alongside his dark hair, growing more every day... The memories of that night flooding back before you took a large gulp of water from the bottle in your bag, forcing them back down. You'd done so well... 2 years and you'd built a new life in London. New friends, amazing new job allowing you to put that degree in marketing to good use - you were finally making a complete fresh start. But the secrets you had buried deep inside kept coming to the surface the more your son grew. He deserved to know his roots, who his father was, you knew that, but you couldn't do it.

Choking a tear back, you thanked the kind lady for helping you as a taxi pulled up and she helped you to get in.

Pulling up outside your cousin Natalie's townhouse in the city centre, she was waiting for you at the gate to help with Jackson and your bags. Grinning from ear to ear she pulled you in for a huge hug once you'd got inside and settled on her couch as Jackson sat in this new lady's lap tugging at her earrings.

"I can't believe I'm only just meeting him y/n.. he's the image of you!!" She kissed his cheek, bringing him up to look at him properly for the first time not over Skype.

"I never see it, I just see.... I just see him I guess..." You mind wandered to the man you actually saw, but you didn't let it slip.

"Those EYES!!! So blue and vibrant, just beautiful!" Natalie was swooning now, she'd never seen eyes that blue on a baby. Your eyes were brown, so he clearly inherited them from his father, although you had never revealed his identity - just a drunken one night stand and he wasn't involved. You weren't lying, technically...

After catching up properly, Natalie told you she'd planned a few people coming over to welcome you back that evening - nothing major, just a few friends from years ago that were keen to see you after so long away.

"Oh.. yes, that would be nice... Um, who's coming?"

"Well I think David and Amanda, possibly Caroline.. I think Liam is asking Jim too but I'm not sure if he's up for it - he's been through a tough time lately.." you caught a gasp in your throat at the sound of his name. Last you heard, through Natalie, he and Danielle were going through a rough patch. Cheating accusations on both sides, they'd agreed to a trial separation. "Apparently she isn't as broken hearted as once thought - already shacked up with someone new, fancy house on the coast, new Jag on the driveway, she's doing quite well for herself!" Your chin began to wobble, not unnoticed by Natalie, who placed Jackson in his bouncer on the floor and moved to place a hand on your shoulder.

"I'm fine Nat, honestly I'm good. It was a long time ago, things have changed. I'm not that silly little girl with a crush anymore..." Natalie looked into your eyes. Nothing ever got past her.

"Y/n.. when I said I'd never seen eyes that blue, I meant on a baby. Only one person I know has eyes like that, and I think you know too. Tell me the truth, please?" You were frozen, until tears escaped and you couldn't stop them. Jackson looked to see his mum crying and began crying too. Scooping him up, you held him close.

"It happened once... Just once Nat... And he doesn't know and he doesn't need to know, let's just leave it there, yeah?"

"What?? This is Jim's son? I was almost kidding y/n... How could you keep this from him for 2 years??" She was stood up now in complete shock. Jim wasn't just her friend, he was her husband's brother - this made things even more intense. The atmosphere could be cut with a knife.

"Please Nat... This wasn't easy okay? I was 21, I slept with a married man, and I got pregnant... Then mum died.. I had to go back to London to sort out the funeral and the will... I didn't want to be seen as the homewrecker that got herself knocked up..."

"And what about Jackson? Doesn't he deserve to know his father?"

"Of course... And he would.. when I was ready Nat. And I'm not ready..."

"Not ready for what?" Liam, Natalie's husband was stood in the doorway, as you heard the front door close. Now standing next to him was the man you were desperately trying to avoid... Jim stood behind him, eyes wide at the sight of you with a baby in your arms.

"Baby, we need to go pick up that delivery from the post office, remember the one we missed last week?" Natalie pulled a confused Liam out of the room, leaving his brother and you alone.

"Y/n... Hey.. um.. how are you?" You tried to smile in response but your heart was pounding in your chest, you could barely breathe.

"I.. yeah.. um, yeah I'm okay.." you glanced down at his hand.. the wedding ring was gone. "I'm sorry to hear about you and Olivia..."

"Probably for the best eh... We weren't exactly getting along, just stayed together for the kids I think. They're older now though, they're fine. Y/n.. where did you go? Why did you go?"

"My mum was ill... She'd had a stroke and they couldn't save her, I had to go... I just stayed.. and things happened.."

"You had a baby..." He looked at the little boy in your arms, feeling extremely nervous now. "He must be just over a year old, right?" You nodded.

"13 months.."

"And we... We had sex y/n.. the day before you left..." His own breath was faltering now as the dates in his mind started to catch up. Again, you nodded, tears rolling down your cheeks. The realisation of what was happening dawned on Jim. He started to back away, before shaking his head and storming out of the house, the door slamming behind him making you and your son jump.

Your sobs came out in full force now, Liam and Natalie coming back into the room. Liam took Jackson into the kitchen to find him something to eat as Natalie held you.

"It's okay y/n... Give him time yeah? Poor guys just had the shock of his life, he'll come round." Your heart was sinking.. you hadn't meant for any of this to happen, but here it was. The memory of that afternoon had never left you, you hadn't even been able to move on - your son, for starters, looked just like him, how could you find love with anyone with the constant reminder of the man you'd never have around you 24/7.

Flashback

"I'm so sorry Jim, I didn't know who else to call..." You climbed into his car, cheeks burning as he picked you up from outside the pharmacy. You'd been walking along the road when a pothole in the pavement took you by surprise and you'd tripped, your ankle turning funny - the pain was horrific, but no one seemed to be answering your phone calls when you rang around for someone to come pick you up. Reluctantly, you'd dialled Jim's number, your cousin's brother in law. He'd given you his number the previous week, after offering to help you move into your new apartment later that month.

"No problem, I was just dropping the kids at school so I was only round the corner." He helped you into the car and drove you back to his house. "I figured your place is in boxes, no chance of a first aid kit either, I'm guessing?"

"No," You laughed. "Thank you so much.." you grimaced as you turned your foot round, trying to ease the pain.

"Definitely not broken, just need to rest it. I'll put the kettle on." Jim led you into the kitchen and sat you down at the kitchen table, and grabbed an ice pack from the fridge. Lifting your leg onto the chair opposite, he placed the ice pack onto your ankle. "Feeling okay?" He asked, flicking the kettle on and preparing two mugs of coffee.

"Much better.. thank you." Definitely better.. the physical contact from him was driving you insane, you had to swallow the blushes in your cheeks, praying he hadn't noticed.

"I've only got instant coffee... Hope that's okay - Danielle won't let me buy a coffee machine." He rolled his eyes. His wife was one of the tightest women he'd ever met.

"It's fine, thank you.. and I honestly can't thank you enough for coming to get me.. I can't believe how clumsy I am!"

"Hey those pavements are a nightmare - I'm surprised no one's broken a leg yet! Don't you be moving now, I'll take you back home once that swelling has gone down."

"How did you know how to fix it all?"

"I have a son, y/n, who at one stage a few years ago thought he was an actual superhero and would fling himself off anything to check if he could fly.. you learn the difference between a broken ankle and a twisted one pretty quick!" He laughed, remembering the time his son climbed the tallest tree in the park, giving him a heart attack before throwing himself from the top - luckily Jim caught him before he hit the floor.

"I think it's better now, Jim, I can try and walk." You said, after chatting for a while in the large kitchen.

"Let me help you.." he held your hands and guided you upright, your chests now pressed together as you placed your foot gingerly on the floor, testing it's strength. Stumbling slightly, Jim caught you, your bodies now even closer together. You could feel his heart racing, could he feel yours? His hands wrapping around yours, holding you up, an arm snaking round your waist. You looked up and found him looking right back at you, your face inches from his. Before you had time to think, you kissed him, before quickly pulling back.

"Shit I'm sorry... Oh god.. no... I'm sorry..." He took your hand in his and pulled you back to him, pressing his lips back to yours. This time you didn't pull back, your mouth opening allowing his tongue to dance against yours. Lifting you up, he sat you on top of the counter, his hands roaming your body hungrily.

"I can't... I shouldn't..." He murmured against your neck, the vibrations driving you wild with need. "You're so fucking beautiful y/n..." He ground your hips against yours, you could feel his erection through his jeans as you reached down to cup it through them, kneading it slightly. He growled, pulling your hand up to his chest, his heart hammering underneath his shirt. "You feel that? Feel how fast that's going?" Silently you took his hand and placed against your chest.

"Feel mine...." You pushed his hand down lower.. over your breast... Down your stomach and under the waistband of your skirt. His fingers found your folds, and he gasped your name. "I'm wet... I'm so fucking wet..." Lifting your skirt up, he pulled your underwear down. You relieved him of his jeans and they fell to the floor, revealing no underwear, just his huge, hard cock already leaking.

"I see you are too..." You ran a finger along the slit, taking some of the precum and lifting it to your mouth. "You taste good..."

"You want this...?" He asked, lining himself up against you. You nodded, and he pushed in easily, you gasped his name and threw your head back as he filled you completely. Pulling on your hips, he rocked you against him as he moved his own hips back and forth, fucking you against the countertop. You legs wrapped round his waist as his thrusts came harder, deeper, faster.

"Fuck... Right there... Jim... Oh god...." He bit down on your exposed neck, hands pushing against your still covered breasts, he moaned.

"Feels so good y/n... You feel so good... That's it baby, I need to feel you... Cum for me..." You leaned back, and eyes locked with his you drew a hand down to circle your clit as he moved inside you.

"Gonna make myself cum on you... Gonna cum hard for you... Faster Jim..." He pounded into you now, your moans echoing through the kitchen as you came over him, his release following seconds later. Both of you leaned your heads together as your worlds came back into focus.

Present Day

"Hey."

"Hey.." you'd agreed to meet Jim for a coffee a few days later. He'd called you the evening before, slightly tipsy which made you chuckle. Liam and Natalie were watching Jackson while the two of you caught up.

"How's the hangover?" You smiled, he grimaced.

"Well I've definitely felt fresher.. it was a bit of a shock y/n..."

"Listen.. for what it's worth.. I'm sorry. I didn't know I was pregnant until I was nearly 20weeks. With the stress of losing mum and the funeral, I hadn't had a period for a while but I thought it was just the stress.. then my friend convinced me to take a test and the doctors confirming it.. it was too late to do anything about it.. then I heard you and Danielle were trying for another baby and I just couldn't do it Jim.. I couldn't destroy your life like that.." your hands were shaking. He leaned over and took your hands in his.

"I understand y/n.. I do. I spent most of this week thinking about it. I don't blame you for what you did.. but I do wish you'd told me."

"I'd done enough damage Jim, sleeping with a married man? On his kitchen counter where he makes his kids breakfast? Where his wife makes her coffee in the morning? I couldn't face you.. I couldn't face what I'd done.."

"You know where my wife was, that morning?" He leaned back, smiling a little. "At her office, bent over the desk while her boss fucked her from behind. She called my number by accident while it happened. I didn't answer, obviously, I was busy.. but my voicemail picked up the whole thing. I'd had my suspicions for a long time, but that confirmed it. We were never trying for another baby - that's just what she told people to distract them from the fact we were clearly falling apart at the seams. Couldn't exactly be mad at her after what I'd done with you though."

"Did you tell her?"

"Yes, but she didn't know it was you. Then you up and left.. I thought there was no need to tell her who it was. I guess now we kinda have to, right?"

"Jim, I don't expect anything from you, okay? I have an inheritance from my mum, I'm fine for money, there's no need to be involved if it'll cause you problems.."

"No. You've kept him from me for nearly 2 years y/n, don't do this again, please? I'm not asking you to move in, I'm not asking for a relationship, I just want to get to know our boy.. that's all.. please?" You saw it in his eyes. It was there, for all to see. Was it love?

"I'll call Nat.. ask her to bring him over, maybe we could go for a walk?" Jim smiled, nodding. You made the call, and an hour later you were walking to the local park, Jim pushing the stroller. He took Jackson out of the buggy and placed him inside a baby swing, pushing him gently while pulling silly faces making him giggle. Your heart swelled watching them.

"He's incredible.. those eyes.."

"Your eyes, Jim." He looked up at you and smiled listening to his son's giggle, before he started becoming grouchy again.

"He's teething... Come on little man, let's get you back shall we?" Jim lifted him from the swing and placed his little finger in Jackson's mouth. He responded by sucking his gums along it, finding relief. You smiled, watching Him soothe your son's whimpers of pain as his teeth came through.

Making your way inside Natalie's house, you were surprised to find it empty. A note on the kitchen counter read that they'd gone out for the afternoon, they wouldn't be home until the evening. You warmed a bottle of milk for Jackson as Jim gave him some Calpol. Taking the bottle from you, he fed his son, as you watched, heart pounding as you watched the man you were still in love with take such good care of your baby. Within 15 minutes, Jackson was fed and had been rocked to sleep in his father's arms, you took him and placed him upstairs in his cot to nap. You knew he'd be out for at least an hour after all that fresh air. Walking back into the lounge, you found Jim sat on the sofa waiting for you.

"Come here, y/n..." You sat next to him as he turned to face you, hand gently caressing your cheek. "What are we going to do now?"

"I'm heading back to London tomorrow Jim..." His eyes glistened slightly. He'd just found his son, and now he was going again. He'd just got you back in his life, and now you were disappearing again...

"What can I do to make you stay?" His question took you by surprise. Stay?

"Jim, I..."

"I haven't stopped thinking about you.. about what happened 2 years ago. How long I'd wanted you, how long I'd dreamt of you, how I still dream of you even now.. and we share a son y/n.. I can't let you go again, it'd break me.."

"I'm half your age Jim! I'm barely older than your eldest child, how can this possibly work?" He answered with a kiss. Leaning forward to take your mouth against his, without thinking you returned it, linking your fingers with his as he pulled you into his lap.

"It'll work because we'll make it work.. nothing else matters.. all of that other stuff is irrelevant.." he felt you grind your hips against his and his erection was burning against his jeans. He needed you, now.

"And Danielle?"

"Is fucking a man old enough to be her own father - opinion invalid. I don't care about her, I care about you.. please.." he was aware of how desperate he sounded but he didn't care. He had his hand under your t-shirt against your breast, no bra in the way this time. Lifting you up, he carried you upstairs to the guest room you were staying in, and laid you down softly on the bed underneath him.

"Birth control?" He looked at you, smiling.

"The coil - don't worry, I'm covered this time.." You smiled back as he lifted your t-shirt over your head and kissed you again. The reason for being at the pharmacy 2 years ago was to collect your prescription for the pill - you'd not taken it for a couple of days after running out suddenly. After Jackson was born, you switched to a more efficient form of birth control.

Pulling your skirt down and off, along with your underwear, he nestled his face between your thighs, now parted by his hands.

"I want you to watch me y/n... Watch me as I make you cum..." Your core burning, you raised yourself up on your elbows as he blew a hot breath against your wet folds, causing you to shiver under him. He parted your lips with his fingers, before licking from your pulsing hole up to your clit, finding a rhythm that made you cry out and shudder underneath his tongue. Smiling, groaning into you, you tried to keep your eyes on him as he licked and sucked your throbbing clit in his mouth.

"Jim.. don't stop.. oh god..." You hadn't had sex since that afternoon 2 year ago, no one being good enough to compete with the man currently buried between your legs. No pleasure you'd given yourself since was a patch on this, and you felt that burning feeling in your stomach starting to rise. "I'm close... Mm... Fuck I'm close..." Your words barely a whisper but he heard them, pushing harder with his tongue as a finger entered you, hooking upwards to find that spot inside, the one you didn't think actually existed, but there it was.. you bucked against his mouth, coming hard and fast - you felt your liquids gush over his chin, there was no stopping them... "Aha... Oh god Jim... Fuck... Stop, it's too much..." He smiled, blowing another warm breath over you before moving back to your mouth. You could taste yourself on his lips, turning you on even more.

Flipping him onto his back, you lifted his clothes off him and kissed down his chest. Your core needed a breather before you took him inside you. Licking the top of his now rock hard cock, you slowly sank your lips down, taking him fully inside your mouth. You'd never had a strong gag reflex, and you enjoyed the feeling of his cock hitting the back of your throat.

"Holy fuck... Jesus y/n... That's it baby..." Up and down your head bobbed, swapping between hard and light sucks, your teeth gently scraping the underside of his cock and your fingers lightly playing with his balls underneath you. Every time you felt them tighten, you'd ease off, allowing him to catch his breath, before bringing him into your mouth again. After a few near explosions, he couldn't take anymore and lifted you off motioning for you to sit on him. "Ride me y/n..." You smiled, and sank your pussy onto him, allowing him to fill you. Slowly so as to adjust to his length, your hips moved, back and forth, up and down, finding the right rhythm for you both. He sat up, chests together and his hands under your thighs as he rotated his hips from underneath, driving his cock against that magical spot again.

"Yes... God that feels good... Jim..."

"I'm not gonna last long y/n..."

"That's okay.. we've got plenty of time to make up for this... Cum in me, give me all of you..." You felt his cock twitch inside you as he moved your hips faster. Leaning back, you rode him hard, the bed frame squeaking underneath as you both cried out, your climaxes arriving simultaneously. Coming back to rest your head against his, you clenched your core once more causing him to gasp as you drew yourself off him slowly. Lay down next to each other, he pulled you into his arms.

"Did you mean what you said?" He asked, kissing your head gently. "Plenty of time?"

"I meant it, Jim... I need to get back to London to sort a few things, put my flat up for sale.. my job... But yes. If you'll have us, we'll come back.." you looked into his eyes. He lifted your head to kiss you and you felt it. All the love you thought you'd never find, in the man you thought you'd never find it with.

Everything was going to be fine, you couldn't wait to start your life over again, this time for the last time.

@margoo0 @queenshelby @peakyscillian @cloudofdisney @ntmynouis @being-worthy

#delinquent season #jim delinquent season x y/n #cillian smut #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy #cillian x smut

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