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helloalycia · 4 years ago

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teenage dirtbag [one] // wanda maximoff

summary: when you're paired with the most popular girl in your grade for Chemistry class, you definitely don't expect to start liking her like that...

warning/s: none i don't think??

author's note: okay so i have a ton of requests to work through but i got sidetracked and before i knew it, five parts of this imagine were written.

It's based off the song 'Teenage Dirtbag' and idk, i thought it was cute to write! Who doesn't love the popular girl!wanda and loner!reader concept?

Here’s a cover of the song to listen to because i really liked it and a girl sings it so it immediately made the song 10x more gay, just how i like it 🥰

"Are you all comfortable?"

The class stayed silent, watching our Chemistry teacher, Mr. Hale, as he looked to everyone with a raised brow.

"You all like who you're sat with?" he asked again, as if expecting an actual response from someone.

I exchanged questioning glances with my best friend, Y/BF/N, who was sat beside me. It was the first day back in Chemistry class of our final year of high school and we were just waiting to begin.

"Anyone?" he asked, looking around.

"Yeah," a few students mumbled in response so we could move on.

He clapped his hands together. "Great! Well, don't get too comfortable because I made a seating chart."

A chorus of groans erupted from the class, including from me and Y/BF/N. Every other class had successfully managed to not give us a seating chart. I'd heard that Mr. Hale was an awkward teacher who hated students (ironically), but I didn't think he'd stoop so low as to pair us with students who weren't our friends. These new seats were also our partners for the rest of the year and were non-negotiable, so any projects or work we did would have to be with our seat buddy. Fun.

Students began to shuffle to their newly-assigned seats reluctantly as Mr. Hale read out the chart. When Y/BF/N left my side, I frowned dramatically, waving goodbye to him.

"Wanda Maximoff, you're now partners with Y/N Y/L/N," said Mr. Hale, making me look up at the mention of my name.

I didn't get chance to register what he'd said as the aforementioned girl soon approached me, settling her bag on the table beside me. I looked up and saw Wanda Maximoff smiling my way before taking a seat on the stool.

Huh. Wanda Maximoff. She was one of the most popular girls in our grade. Everybody loved her, either wanting to be friends with her, be with her or be her. I'd personally never crossed paths with her apart from the few classes we shared. She seemed nice enough, but I guess I had preconceived notions of what she was like since she'd made the very poor decision to date the most obnoxious guy ever. Anyone making decisions that terrible definitely had a flaw.

She had a twin brother, Pietro, who was also in our grade and played on the football team alongside her boyfriend. Her parents were good friends with mine, through mutual friends, I think, as I recalled my mum mentioning 'Mrs. Maximoff's boy' or 'Mrs. Maximoff's girl'. And I remembered when her family moved into our town back in second grade.

Admittedly, Wanda was the star of the show back then, too. We were only kids, but child Y/N wasn't blind. She was the first girl I'd crushed on, an innocent child crush – the crush that made me realise I liked girls. Apart from that, and the fact that she had a locker behind me in the hallway, I never really thought about her.

I glanced behind me, catching Y/BF/N's gaze across the room as he sat beside some other kid. He frowned, implying he wished we were partners, and I knew just how he felt.

Once Mr. Hale finished assigning seats, he gave us five minutes to get to know our new partners as he struggled to find the powerpoint for today's class. If there was anything worse than getting assigned seats, it was ice breakers.

"Er, well, hi," Wanda greeted, turning to face me. Green eyes sparkled brightly behind a friendly smile. "I'm Wanda. But, I mean, we already know each other."

"That we do," I said with a nod, returning her smile. "How're you doing? Your summer go well?"

She ran a hand through her hair, adjusting herself so she was comfortable on her stool. And as she did, a waft of her perfume washed over me and I blinked, trying to ignore how nice it smelled. Floral. Subtle. It suited her.

"Good, yeah," she answered with a nod. "Could have gone on longer for all I care."

I chuckled. "I feel that. I'm definitely not ready to be back."

"Right?" she said with raised brows. "It's gonna take a while to get back into routine, that's for sure. But I guess I did miss seeing my friends everyday."

I hummed in agreement, eyes flickering to Mr. Hale as he attempted to tackle the oncoming stream of animations on his powerpoint. I tried not to laugh as I looked back to Wanda, who clearly noticed the same thing as me and stifled a smile.

"Have you had Mr. Hale before?" I asked, nodding his way.

She shook her head. "Nope. You?"

"Never."

"Sucks that he makes seating charts," she said with a sigh, before realising what she said and looking to me with panicked eyes. "Not that I don't like you or anything–!"

"It's fine, I get it," I cut her off with an amused smile. "I wanted to sit with my friend, too."

She breathed out quietly, a hint of relief in her eyes, and scrunched her nose with an apologetic smile. Okay, yeah, maybe that was kind of cute. Older Y/N wasn't blind either. Wanda Maximoff was beautiful, with long brunette locks and matching hazel eyes that seemed to change from blue to green to brown in a kaleidoscope of colour. A winning smile and soothing voice was enough for anyone to fall for her unintentional charm, but it was purely admiration. Everyone pretty much had a mild crush on her, you'd be stupid not to.

"If we're gonna be working together, d'you wanna get the whole awkward number exchange out the way now?" she asked, half joking, half not.

"I– er– sure," I stumbled out rather carelessly, before cringing internally. Where did that come from?

Thankfully, she didn't seem to pick up on it (or just saved me the embarrassment of acknowledging it) and was already writing her number on a slip of paper. Sliding it my way, she capped her pen and gave me her signature smile.

"Thanks," I said with a nod, accepting the paper and pocketing it. "Can't wait to start those lovely science projects we've got coming up!"

She let out a quiet laugh at my sarcasm. "It'll be fine. You're not dumb, right? So, we'll be fine."

"Can't promise you that," I joked, making her roll her eyes playfully.

"Maybe if we–"

But she was cut off when Mr. Hale spoke up loudly, interrupting everyone's conversations.

"Five minutes are up, let's begin!"

I wondered if everyone was thinking the same thing as me – that was not five minutes.

"So it begins...," I mumbled to myself, facing forward.

Wanda breathed out, a stifled laugh, probably having heard my comment, and I couldn't help but crack a smile. Maybe I judged her too harshly. She wasn't actually that bad.

—

Since being paired with Wanda, I was surprised by how much she'd made an effort to befriend me outside of class. We'd always been back to back with our lockers though not quite speaking, but since becoming Chemistry partners, she'd wish me a good morning if she caught me, or greet me briefly as we collected our books.

She didn't have to, but I could see why everybody liked her now. She was just genuinely nice. Due to circumstance, we'd become partners, but rather than leaving it at that, she made a genuine effort to befriend me. And not even just me, but also Y/BF/N, who was at the locker next to mine. He was as surprised as I was, expecting Wanda to mind her own business as we weren't exactly in the same social circles.

This was, I guess you could say, the start of our friendship. And it was a good one at that. I grew to learn how funny she was, how much she loved her brother, the passion she had for art and painting... she was a wonderful person. Which is why I didn't understand why she was with her boyfriend, Nate. He was a grade-A dick and everything Wanda wasn't. How were they a thing?

It sounds like I'm being a bitch and judgemental, but he really is the worst. The few unfortunate times I shared a class with him or caught sight of him around school, he was causing some sort of trouble with the teachers or picking on students in a way that made it seem like a joke but everybody knew it wasn't.

For example, there was a time when Wanda and I were studying for an upcoming Chemistry test we had. We decided to just help each other study since we already worked together in class, so knew we could motivate each other to actually put in the work. It was, maybe, the fourth studying session we had, and I was going over some notes when I felt her eyes watching me.

"You need a hand?" I asked, unable to take the staring any longer. I looked up at her, quirking a brow.

She seemed to fall out of her daydream and straightened up, eyes flickering to mine. "Huh?"

I gave her an awkward smile, unable to maintain her gaze. "You're staring."

She didn't seem fazed as I called her out, instead leaning back in her seat and continuing to study me curiously.

"Did you do something different with your hair?"

Subconsciously reaching for my hair, I straightened up my ponytail and shook my head. "No...?"

She chewed on her lip, saying after a pause, "You tied it up. You usually leave it out."

Did I? I wasn't sure. I just knew that her noticing something like that made me feel self conscious all of a sudden.

"It looks good," she decided, before offering up a small smile. "You should do it like that more often."

Quickly, I felt warm. Was it stuffy in here or was it just me? God, compliments already made me feel stupid. And compliments from pretty girls made me feel ten times that. It didn't help that she was watching me with an endearing expression, making me focus on my book before me.

"Thanks," I got out quickly. "I– yeah."

Her smile widened before she looked back down to her own book. Suddenly, I became acutely aware of the way her leg brushed up against mine under the table.

Thankfully, the strange fuzzy feeling following her compliment faded and we were able to get back to work without her tuning out again. As we were going over each other's practice questions, an annoying voice shouted from across the library.

"Wanda, head's up!"

"Hey, no talking in the library!" a librarian hissed at the voice.

Wanda and I looked up just in time for a football to smack me in the side of the head. I didn't even see it coming until I felt the thing slap my head, giving me an instant urge to strangle whoever threw it.

"Fuck," I cursed, holding my head and closing my eyes to breathe through the pain.

"Oh my God, are you okay?" Wanda's voice made me open my eyes and I saw her leaning forward, hand resting on my shoulder and the other on top of mine that was clutching my head.

"Been better," I admitted, trying to make light of the situation because as angry as I was at the idiot who threw it, I was also embarrassed because it hit me.

Wanda seemed concerned as she gently pulled me hand away, not letting go as she got a better look at the side of my face which I was sure was burning red. At least that's what it felt like.

"Shit, I'm so sorry."

I looked up and saw none other than Nate Green, Wanda's boyfriend, hovering and stifling a laugh as he looked at me. He had his stupid varsity jacket on and I was tempted to strangle him with it.

"I thought Wanda would catch it," he explained stupidly, before moving around the desk to collect his football.

Breathing out through gritted teeth, I pulled away from Wanda and nodded reassuringly. "I'll be fine. Just need an ice pack."

"You're such an idiot, Nate!" Wanda snapped, looking to him with a glare. "You need to watch what you're doing!"

He smiled sheepishly, making me roll my eyes and clench my jaw at the heat on the right side of my face. Fuck, that really hurt.

"What did you want?" Wanda asked him with a quirked brow. She definitely wasn't impressed. I'd hate to ever be on the wrong side of that condescending glare.

"I thought we could go out," he said like it was that simple.

"I'm studying," she quipped with crossed arms.

"I'm happy to wait," he said, toying with the ball in his hands.

Knowing I definitely didn't want that, I closed my books and said, "It's cool. You guys go. I think we're done here anyway."

Nate grinned. "See? S'all good."

Wanda ignored him and looked to me with worried eyes. "Y/N, are you sure?"

"You know your stuff," I said, referring to the work. "You'll be fine in the test. I'm sure."

I offered her a small, forced smile, before standing up to pack my bag. She did the same, beginning to pack her own things, but her eyes kept flittering towards me.

"D'you want me to go to the nurse's office with you?" she asked, shame laced in her voice.

"It's fine, I'll be fine," I said, hurrying up with my actions so I could just get out of here whilst I still had (some of) my dignity left. "See you in class tomorrow."

She nodded, sending a guilty smile my way. "See you tomorrow, Y/N."

Without giving either of them a look, I shouldered my backpack and left the library. Just another reminder of why Nate Green was literally the worst person ever.

—

Liking Wanda as more than a friend wasn't something that happened for a while if I'm being honest. I guess I started to enjoy her presence more and more the longer we spent time together.

I'd come to appreciate it whenever she'd say something completely out of the blue that made no sense whatsoever, or whenever she'd laugh at something I'd said that was arguably not funny but she didn't want to make me feel bad, or even whenever I teased her about something stupid she did, resulting in her doing that cute little nose scrunch she did. But I didn't think of it as liking her, more just a randomly-formed friendship that I was glad to have.

Maybe it was this misinterpretation that didn't make me see how I was acting around her, such as the time I was in the dinner queue at lunch when I realised she was stood behind me.

"Oh, hey, Y/N," she said when she noticed it was me in front of her. Her usual bright, friendly smile was on her lips as she looked to me. "You good?"

I nodded, returning her smile. "Yeah. Just getting some doughnuts for Y/BF/N and I. You?"

"Same," she said, before nudging the guy next to her, who I recognised as her brother. "Pietro and I thought we'd treat ourselves."

At the mention of his name, Pietro looked down to his sister before his gaze fell on me. A mischievous smile appeared on his lips as he put out his hand.

"Pietro Maximoff," he introduced. "You must be the Chemistry partner, Y/N, right?"

I raised my eyebrows with surprise as I shook his hand. "You, er, know who I am?"

He glanced at his sister with a cheeky smile. Wanda was avoiding both of our gazes, her cheeks dusting pink.

Clearly saving face for Wanda, he said, "We've been in the same grade since kids, right? 'Course I do."

Despite the truth to his words, something told me that wasn't how he knew who I was. Especially since I was sure I'd never spoken to him in my life. But, to save Wanda the embarrassment of clearly having spoken of me at home, I nodded to Pietro.

"Right," I agreed with an amused smile. "Duh."

I moved down the queue and grabbed two doughnuts from the display, putting them in two separate paper bags.

"Dibs the last one!" Pietro exclaimed as soon as I returned the clippers to the display. He reached around his sister immaturely and bagged the last doughnut.

Wanda rolled her eyes. "You know I can ask for more, right?"

Pietro grinned, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Go on then."

The two were twins, but they couldn't have been more different. I simply revelled in their interaction, finding it adorable.

Wanda did as she said, asking the dinner lady if there were any more doughnuts in the back. Unfortunately for her, those were the last for the day, making Pietro laugh as Wanda pouted.

"Sucks to be you," he teased her, as I paid for mine and Y/BF/N's doughnuts.

"I hate you," she mumbled playfully, but I saw the disappointment in her eyes as he lovingly but annoyingly waved his bag before her eyes.

Without even thinking much of it, I held out one of the bags in my hand. "Here. You can have mine."

Wanda looked to me with surprise. "Are you sure? I can live without a doughnut, if that's what you're thinking."

I chuckled, grabbing her hand and making her take it. "It's okay. I wasn't in the mood anyway."

Plus, you look better when you're smiling and not pouting, I added in my head.

She accepted the bag reluctantly. "I– thanks. At least let me pay for it–"

"It's just a doughnut, Wanda," I teased, before nodding her way. "See you later."

Leaving her and Pietro to it, I headed back to the table Y/BF/N was sat at and took a seat opposite him before giving him his doughnut.

"Sweet," he said, quickly opening the bag before realising I didn't have one. "Where's yours?"

Over his shoulder, I saw Wanda and Pietro taking a seat at their lunch table, doughnuts in hand and a heartwarming smile on Wanda's lips.

"They ran out," I answered Y/BF/N. "Wasn't in the mood anyway. Enjoy."

He shrugged before digging in. I'd like to say I didn't spare glances in Wanda's direction every now and then for the rest of the lunch hour, but I'd be lying if I did.

—

I'm in the art department. You okay to bring it here?

I read over the text Wanda sent me before shooting her an 'okay' and heading to the Art department. I'd grabbed her notebook in class earlier on, only realising as I was studying with Y/BF/N in the library and pulled out an extra one, so I was going to give it her back.

I guess, when you realise you like someone, it comes randomly, suddenly, without warning. Liking someone isn't instant, it's constant and gradual and subconscious. I guess I'd been falling for Wanda for a while, without even realising, but today was the day I acknowledged that fact.

The Art department wasn't somewhere I frequented regularly – give me a paint and brushes and I'd probably present you with a finger painting – but it was definitely worth the visit. Art pieces from current and past students were hung on the walls, a mural of the school was spray painted on another, and sculptures stood around. The whole department brought a smile to anyone's face with its bright colours and open space – I could see why Art students always hung out here, Wanda included.

Speaking of Wanda, I found her in one of the classrooms sat at a stool in front of a series of canvasses. The room had a few other Art students littered around, working on their own pieces during their lunch period, otherwise it was empty.

"Hey," I called, getting her attention as I approached her.

She followed my voice and straightened up with a cheery smile. "Y/N, hey. Thanks for coming. I'm working on my Art project, so I couldn't pull myself away."

I waved my hand dismissively, joining her side. "It's all good, don't worry." My eyes wandered to the series of canvases on easels she was working on and widened. "Holy shit, these are so good."

Three unfinished hyperrealistic portraits of people were before us, one whom I recognised as Pietro. The paintings were so detailed, despite their medium-size, and I couldn't imagine how long they must have taken.

"You think?" she asked, glancing between them. "I think I messed up the nose here." She pointed with the back end of her paintbrush to the nose of Pietro. "It's a bit bent."

I almost laughed as I looked to her with disbelief. "Are you kidding? Wanda, these are amazing. How did you even do this?"

She looked down bashfully, a nervous smile on her lips. "I don't know. It's for a project. I chose to do family portraits." She pointed to each one as she said, "My mum, my dad and my brother."

I was in awe of her talent, jaw dropped with amazement still. I always knew she was an artist, but I'd never actually seen her work. I was starting to wish I'd come here a lot sooner.

"So, you got my notebook?" she asked, pulling me back into reality.

I looked away from the paintings reluctantly before getting her notebook from my bag and holding it out for her. As she accepted it, she must have forgotten she was holding her paintbrush as the tip brushed my wrist, leaving a swipe of red there.

"Oh, my bad," she said with a laugh, before setting her notebook and brush down and grabbing a paper towel from beside her.

Wetting it with water from her bottle, she pressed it to my wrist and swiped the paint away. It was such a mundane action, but the way her fingers gently held my wrist and emanated a warmth only she seemed to carry sent shivers down my spine.

I glanced up at her, letting her do it, and noticed the swipe of paint she had across her cheek, as if she'd touched her face without realising.

Now that I paid attention, I noticed how cute she looked in her Art getup. An old, oversized shirt covered in paint was being worn to cover her clothes, sleeves loosely rolled up to her elbows. Her long hair was tied back into a ponytail, but her baby hairs framed her forehead adorably.

When her hair wasn't in her face, her eyes only seemed more intense, glistening with excitement and happiness. I almost forgot to breathe when they met mine briefly, a hint of embarrassment there from when cleaning me up. She was in her element here and it made sense to me now.

I knew I'd fallen for her.

—

"You don't get it," I was saying to Y/BF/N as we hung about the school gym, waiting for the teacher to start the lesson. "It's bad. I like her. Like, like like her."

Y/BF/N laughed, clapping me on the back with pity. "You're screwed."

I frowned. "I know."

As he stretched for class, he continued, "I mean, I get it, I do. She's super nice. Pretty. And you guys seem to get on."

I chewed on my lower lip worriedly.

He gave me a knowing look. "There's one problem though."

I groaned, running a hand down my face. "I know, I know. She's got that dick of a boyfriend."

He chuckled. "That's one way to put it."

I sighed, crossing my arms with annoyance. Since realising I liked Wanda as a little more than a friend, things weren't going well for me. Whenever we worked together, I'd forget what I was thinking because I was too busy admiring her side profile or getting lost in her eyes. If she spoke about the work, told a joke or was simply speaking her thoughts aloud, I'd focus on every little thing she was saying, knowing I could listen to her speak all day. It was bad, but thankfully I hadn't stumbled over my words or made a total fool of myself in front of her. I was determined to not let it get that far.

My eyes wandered around the gym as Y/BF/N tried to give me advice, but admittedly, his words flew in one ear and out the other when I caught sight of Wanda.

She was standing with her friends, smiling and laughing to whatever they were saying. Like everyone else in here, she was wearing her gym kit – black athletic shorts and a blue and white tee shirt, the colour of our school. It wasn't anything special, yet she made it seem that way, outdoing anyone in here. Her brown hair was tied back, the ponytail falling down her back, showing her stunning profile and making my mouth go dry.

Another clap on the back from Y/BF/N pulled me from my reverie and I looked to see he was laughing at me.

"Majorly screwed," he corrected his previous comment.

He was definitely right.

#wanda maximoff x you #wanda marvel #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #elizabeth olsen #marvel imagine #mcu imagine #mcu #wanda maximoff au #Spotify

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rcksmith · 4 years ago

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You — Five Hargreeves

Request: “Could I get 37 and 63 from the smut prompts with older Five, if you are comfortable, if not then understandable”

Smut Prompts:

37. “I’m so sick of your voice. Why don’t you come over here and put your mouth to better use?”

63. “Could he make you feel as good as i do?”

A/ N: We not tolerate any pedophilia here!!

I write about Five with their 20s. I write the same about the characters of Harry Potter.

I hope it got close to what you wanted. ❤️

Guys, I really understand who doesn't feel comfortable reading or writing Five's smut. But I always say that I only write with him (any genre: romance, fluff or angst) with the notion that Five is 20 years old here. All of my fanfics mention swearing or sex, even if it is a memory or something shallow, but as I am writing with Five as an adult, it is consistent that the fic has aspects of an adult life.

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

Couple: Five Hargreeves / Fem! Reader.

Warnings: Smut, bad words.

— — — — —

You had dated some guys before, because no one turned 22 without getting hurt a little for love, but no relationship proved as intense (and difficult) as dating Five Hargreeves. If you could describe the 1 year that you were together, you would use only two words: sex and coldness.

Sex because Five had an appetite you've never seen in your life and you loved it. It was strong, intense, hot. He always seemed to want to discount your internal problems by fucking you hard, and you couldn't deny that his raw footprints drove you crazy.

And coldness because Five Hargreeves, as well as being hot in sex, was the north pole in romance. He was dry, very reserved, without any appreciation for physical touch or cutest demonstrations. He did not like to talk to much or participate in frivolous conversations.

He always had a sarcastic or rude argument for his comments about thinking that the two of you should act more like a couple and not like nymphomaniacs. And as time went by, you got tired of feeling that you didn't have a partner but a sex disk.

That's when you finished it all. It ended because you liked affection and love and not just fucking. It ended because you thought you deserved more and you didn't want to build a life with someone so cold.

That was the purpose of a relationship, wasn't it? Wanting to build a future with someone. And when you didn't see yourself building a future with Five anymore, you just finished. It was difficult, obviously. It shattered your heart, because in the end you still loved him, but it hurt more to know that there was no way to fix it.

And that's why you found yourself here, in a crowded nightclub, at 2 am, dancing with your friends and kissing any man just to try to forget Five. It had been three months since you two broke up, and staying in your room crying and eating chocolate didn't seem to be helping you get over it. So when your friends asked you out, you went. You went because you wanted to get drunk, kiss some cat guy and forget that your heart was in pieces.

And that was why you were kissing that guy, squeezing the back of his neck while his hands went down around you waist and squeezed your ass. He didn't have the intensity and electricity of Five, but he was a handsome, so... it would have to do.

As soon as you separated from him and started dancing with your friends again, enjoying the deafening music and what the drink did to your head and body, you felt more numb from the pain.

“I need another drink.” You warned one of your friends, almost screaming to try to make yourself heard with all that deafening music.

As soon as she nodded and you started walking among all those huddled bodies, you arrived at the counter a few seconds later, sitting in the only vacant seat.

“Vodka, pure.” You didn't want anything sweet, too soft. You wanted something rough, strong, that would mess with your system.

You needed something stronger than the pain you were feeling.

After turning the first shot, swallowing and closing your eyes for a second, trying to hold the grimace and the strong taste, you were going to ask for another when a voice came up behind you:

“Nothing more for her, thanks.”

You froze. Your heart failed and then shot to alarming levels. You knew that voice, you knew it better than your own. Suddenly, whether by drinking or by the presence behind you, your body started to get hot, shaky and wobbly. If you tried to get up now, you would surely fall.

That bastard wouldn't dare ...

“Hello, stranger.”

Yes, he would dare.

You turned to Five, amazed. Suddenly, you have never felt so sober in life, rigid, with heightened senses. And that was what you were talking about too. Whenever Five was involved, you became someone you didn't like. You were much more attentive to any intonation or half words, searching for hidden meanings for him sentences.

You hated that. You hated having to look for clues when in fact the person should say with word what he felt. You hated having to analyze syllable by syllable to know the true feelings. When all a dating should bring was honesty, calm, peace and complicity.

“What are you doing here?!” You were not smooth, because any situation involving Five was already exasperating for you.

“Is it forbidden to go to a nightclub?” The same condescending tone, the hands in the pockets, the smug look, the smirk.

Five was beautiful as sin, it was the definition of superb, but outer beauty was not you its weakness. So, as much as he looked like a God under those flashing lights, you just rolled your eyes.

“As far as I can remember, you called places like ‘Waste of time’ or ‘Ridiculous places Klaus goes to’ or, ‘Am I better than these places’ ” You were acidic, turning back to the front and asking the waiter for a shot again.

Five wouldn't tell you how much to drink.

“How skittish are we?” But turning forward was a bad idea, because Five leaned in behind you, breathing in your ear, in your neck.

You held a gasp, pressing your thighs together and trying to focus on anything other than the intense presence behind you.

“You are so skittish” then the voice continued under your skin, and you felt some fingers from it take your hair off your neck. “You used to be so obedient...”

So you were transported to the millions of memories of the times he fucked you. The millions of times he made you scream and obey his every command. Yes, you were a good girl for Five. And that sucked.

“Five.” Your voice was a warning, and when the waiter served your shot, you turned without thinking twice or without Five daring to intrude. “Go away”

You got up from the chair, trying to dodge his touch. Because you knew that if he touched you, you would give in, and if you gave in, you would end up in his bed, and if you did, your heart would be even more broken the next day.

Five frowned, questioning, his gaze fixed on you. Then all that intense energy was replaced by an angry wave.

“Is it because of him?”

His?

Now you frowned, but in a confused expression and you were beginning to wonder if Five had gone mad.

“Who…”

“Don't be innocent, I saw you with him today, just now. Rubbing on him like... like... ”

So Five was close to you again. The height of him making you lift the chin to look at him, the smell of man invading your nose... God, his are a fucking handsome and...

Focus!

"Whose are you talking about?" Five was still looking at you angrily and now with a hint of irony.

And that's when you realized who he was talking about. The guy you just kissed.

“For God's sake, Five!” You answered, incredulous. “It’s not ‘how are you, Y / N?’ Or ‘how have you been, Y/N?’ No, this is always your possessiveness of not losing your toy to someone else! But you know, big boy, your train left a long time ago.” You looked at him as if Five were your biggest enemy, and turned your back on him.

You needed to get away, needed to keep as much distance between you as possible. You already felt the grip in your throat, your eyes burning. God, this guy had an overwhelming power over you. You still love him, much, holy fuck!

Then you crossed the nightclub again, past the sea of dancing bodies, hoping that, luckily, Five would lose sight of you in the crowd. But you no longer needed songs, dances or drinks, your mind was pounding so much that you just thought about being alone, at least for a second.

You continued to advance between the bodies, and when you reached the other end of the club, now far enough from the bar, you entered the ladies' room. The deafening sound of the music was drowned out when you closed the door, and only then did you manage to release the breath you were holding.

You was put both hands on the sink, taking a moment with your own thoughts before looking ahead and seeing your reflection. You weren't as bad as you felt, some mascara had out. The mirror said you should go home, but you didn't know if you could face those people outside with the possibility of seeing Five any second.

Lowering your head once more to turn on the tap and wet your hands to rub the back of your neck, you sighed deeply when the sensation of the cold water hit your hot skin. But all the sense of relief was gone when you looked in the mirror again and saw Five.

You gave a startled scream, turning to him in a burst and resting your hands on the sink behind you.

“What the fuck, Five!” Your heart was still pounding, but you were beginning to suspect it was because of his little smile.

Five was strode toward you, and he didn't stop until your body was trapped between his and the sink. It was hot. Five seethed like hell and smelled of sin, and you began to feel the pulse of it. It was unbearable how much power he had over you. But the truth was that you would always be a moldable dough in the hands of Five. Worse, he knew it.

He knew because you could see it in the way he looked at you, the way his hands went up from his your thigh to his neck, the way he leaned into your ear and murmured:

“You can't run from me, cute.”

And if you were a molding dough before, now you were clay on his fingers. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath through and pressing your fingers into the sink behind you.

“You were never a good liar.” He continued, the velvet voice from hell seducing you "I can feel your excitement from here."

Now you were on fire. Your core pulsed for him, your body burned and the desire became so strong that you felt like crying.

“Five...” You wanted to tell him to walk away, to leave. But your body begged you to willingly accept what he was giving you. The truth was, you wanted more.

“My good girl” now his thin, white fingers were on your neck, running the tips over your heaving skin.

Five Hargreeves was the wrong way and you were going willingly. You wanted to leave, but your whole body was begging you to let him touch you some more. Just a little more…

“Look at you…” Five's voice was still hoarse and seductive, his right hand wandered from your neck to the side of your body, outlining all your curves as if it were a goddamn treasure “I barely touched you and you're already excited.”

You wanted to say that it was ridiculous, that he was very arrogant. But you would only dig your own grave, because the truth was that you were excited. Much. And lying to a fucking genius was almost always impossible.

"Could he make you feel as good as i do?" If he hadn't been a presumptuous arrogant before, now he was.

His hand sank between your legs, and you groaned loudly when you felt the cold finger touch the core of your burning panties. You tilted your head back, leaning against the mirror as you closed your eyes in a silent groan.

“I bet you don't” now kisses landed on the skin of your exposed neck, heading towards the neckline “But I want to hear you say it.”

You could not. Because his fingers were playing with you and his mouth was all over the pulp of your breasts. It was too much, too much stimulus for your poor body that would be satisfied with just one kiss.

That's when the thought of the kiss brought you back to Earth orbit. Kisses have always been very intimate and romantic, and you remember that Five almost never kissed you much. It hurt you. It hurt because it looked like you were good enough for him to fuck you, but not good enough for him to think about being more loving and fighting for your relationship.

“Five…” Five lifted the mouth of your breasts, looking at you intently. “ I can't.”

"Why not? We had fun a loot before. ”

“Because this... this is not healthy. We will regret it tomorrow. ”

Five frowned, his hand motionless between your legs.

“Is there someone else?” His voice was low.

“Oh my God, no!” It was absurd how he only cared about that “You don't care about me! Only if someone is fucking me! ”

“God, Y / N!” Five was amazed “ What do you think I'm doing here?!"

You looked at Five as if him were crazy, and looked down at the position of their bodies and looked back at him, signaling very well what was happening.

Five laughed, perplexed, and took his hands off you immediately. He took a few steps back, the shadow of bitter laughter still bordering his mouth.

“Do you think I came here just to eat you?” Five's vocabulary could always be very dirty when he wanted to, and that secretly always turned you on. “Holy God, Y / N!”

“You think this is what ?!”

Then he came to you. And long hands held your face with intensity. There was despair in that touch, passion... and a very overwhelming desire.

“I want you. Ardently.” His voice was not soft “I came here to meet you and try to talk, because I want you back so much. Because I love you. But when I saw you in that little dress... kissing another one... Ah, Y / N” Now he stoked you with the words, each syllable beating against your lips “ I wanted to fuck you in front of everyone for them to see to whom that bitch belongs.”

You sighed loudly. You didn't want to, but it was involuntary. You should want more. You should want him to apologize out about the things he did, ask you back. But the truth was, the desire rumbled through your veins and you didn't want to wait any longer. For now, that would do.

You kissed him. With intensity, despair and savagery. Five reciprocated like a hungry animal and put his hands on your thigh, propelling you up and sitting you in the sink. You were hungry animals that used each other as food.

You thought a sex of reconciliation would be loving and intense. But Five always showed you that sex with him would always be rude. He was didn't make love to you, he fucked you, hard.

Five clutched your body with all his fingers, marking yoyr skin with purple ten digits. He pulled you close as if he could merge with you, and the panties you wore were brutally torn when he went to take them off.

When Five touched you, where you wanted it most, and pushed two fingers brutally into you, you screamed loudly and whined afterwards like a kitten.

"Oh, I will destroy you.” It was not a promise, it was a warning, a reminder of what he would do to you seconds later.

“Five!” You clasped your hands on his shoulders, shifting your waist around he fingers “please... please...!”

“Please what?!” Now he was rough, the fingers coming in and out of you aggressively, hitting your aching walls “Please, Five, fuck me? Or, please, Five, make me come?”

You groaned loudly, the words matching his aggressive rhythm.

“Fuck me! Fuck me, now! ” You stirred up more “Fuck me hard, Five.”

Suddenly, his other hand clung to your face, pulling you by the chin to look at him.

“Command, no! Begging, yes, it's cute, now commanding is unacceptable!” It was a clear, fierce warning. And when you whimpered and agreed to submit, Five tightened your jaw “I’m so sick of your voice. Why don’t you come over here and put your mouth to better use?”

Then him hand that was on your chin went to the nape of your neck, holding your hair tightly and bringing you closer. He removed his fingers from you, and come close at your mouth. You obediently opened it and took his two fingers. He didn't have to tell you to start sucking, running your tongue over all the mess you had made on his fingers.

“My dear good girl.”

His approval was followed by a friendly pat on your face, removing his hand from the back of your neck and unfastening his own belt. Five didn’t give you time to think before entering you, sinking deep into your core.

You screamed, pressing his fingers to your mouth and closing your eyes with intensity. But Five didn't give you time to breathe, his rhythm was constant, raw, arrogant, he was pushing hard inside you and you couldn't help but let out loud moans.

Five used the hand that was not in your mouth to grab your left thigh, releasing a loud, cracking slap when you squeezed it inside. You tried to keep sucking his fingers, but the intensity he put in you was so strong that your head was spinning.

“Do you want to come, little girl? Do you want to come for me?” He withdrew his fingers from your mouth, dissatisfied.

"Yea! Yes, please!"

Now you were begging. Begged in a pure and submissive way, and Five loved it. His pace increased, the thrusts became strong and steady, and his limb beat so deeply that you lost your breath. You were close, so close. felt herself being pushed into a giant, endless chasm, held by a thread that would soon break.

“Come to me, little bitch!” And that was cutting the wire.

You came. Intensely. You squeezed him inside as if your life depended on it and was rewarded with the hot, strong liquid filling you to the brim. You two were both panting, sweaty and satisfied. And you whimpered when his member was gone and the cum dripped from its pulsing core.

Five stared at the scene, mesmerized, letting out a loud sigh of satisfaction and kiss you again, now soft and lovin

"Welcome back." and you laughed, pushing his shoulder at the stupid joke.

907 notes · View notes

chidoroki · 3 years ago

Text

Isabella - 73584

I had a serious debate with myself over whether or not I wanted to sit down and spend my weekend writing another one of these praise posts. I was content with just doing one for each of the Fullscore Trio kids and ending it there.. but apparently I love this woman too much to just ignore her on her birthday. So here were are on September 9th with a list of all her best and my personal favorite moments as to why I believe she’s such a great character, antagonist and mother (yeah you heard me right). Considering she only shows up in the beginning and very end of the story, this post ended up longer than I originally anticipated, which just goes to show how many thoughts I really have about this woman. (for real, this rivals Ray’s post in terms of points but there’s far more words)

Since she also has some backstory and certain events differ between manga and anime (thanks to the second season), I’ll try to go in chronological order between both timelines instead of chapter by chapter, which might be a bit confusing as we’ll jump around the story a lot but just to bear with me as I try to makes sense of it all.

(spoilers for the entirety of The Promised Neverland & ch181.7, so if you haven’t read/completed the manga yet, consider this your first warning, because I’m literally going from start to finish with this one last time. I promise.)

- I’m not sure how well she compares to Emma when it comes to athleticism, but Isabella seemed to have no trouble climbing up and down trees when she was younger.

- Not only that, but she managed to scale the wall by herself using a method that requires a fairly impressive jump. It’s also implied that this is how she climbs the wall again so many years later when chasing the soon-to-be escapees, which helps prove that even at an older age, she hasn’t lost her touch.

- Was chosen to undergo training to become a Mom, which required high test scores and the current mother’s recommendation. She accepted the offer in order to keep living and survive as human the demons couldn’t eat.

- Based on Sienna’s comment, is it fair to say Isabella is on par with the full score trio? I mean, the woman is basically flawless.

- She was practically untouchable during her time at headquarters while training too apparently. Mom positions are scarce so the environment where these ladies fight (physically/mentally/emotionally) to even snag that job is highly competitive, and yet Isabella never let anyone deter her from her goal of becoming a Mom, which probably led to the “Iron Lady” nickname she received now that I think about it.

- She was the youngest ever to be granted the Mom position at..what, 19? 20? Somewhere around there, but impressive nonetheless considering they’re forced to have a child, build up a strong, emotionless exterior and endure so much fear. (but my goodness, the woman doesn’t age at all. she looks just as good when the story actually starts as she did her when she was a bit younger)

- It became common knowledge among the Sisters that she was also very successful in the way she raised her children.

- Her success greatly benefited the farm, as she offered up countless high quality goods, which sounds terrible, I know, but believe me when I say she gave her best effort for her children. Even though she held the Mom position, the amount of power she actually had in this system was pretty minimal, especially with how much she valued her own life. She couldn’t afford to make any mistakes or risky changes, so she settled with doing the most with what she was capable of. She provided her children with a normal lifestyle, not only to keep up the orphanage facade, but knowing that their lives would all be cut shorter than they anticipate. She gave them love in hopes that no one would ever have to feel the dread she felt after Leslie’s death and/or finding out the truth. She tried to delay that horrific fate by encouraging them to learn all they can (like teaching the trio about strategy and chess) so they could achieve higher tests scores and (unknowingly to them) add a couple more months or years onto their lives. Yes it was her job to raise these children to such high standards but she excelled at it for their sake too.

- And I know y’all will just throw Ray in my face like, “oh but he was her actual child and she treated him horribly/different.” Okay but deep down I don’t think she actually wanted to? When they both realized they were truly mother and son, Isabella couldn’t just dote on him and start treating him as such. I’m sure Ray wasn’t too fond of Isabella at this point in his life either, knowing that she sent several of his siblings away to get killed. They probably would’ve gotten along just fine in a perfect world, but since they were both aware of the hell they’re trapped living in, they emotionally distanced themselves and formed a business-like relationship as a result of Ray’s deal, which benefited them both in different ways. For Ray, it was more practical, with the obvious notion of living as long as possible along with obtaining various rewards and knowledge of the outside world. For Isabella, it helped emotionally by simply just ignoring their true relation. I believe if she clung to that realization, it would break the orphanage illusion and eventually wear down her “Iron Lady” exterior that she relies so heavily on.

- Like can you imagine how much you would have to harden your heart in order to quite literally walk children to their death every couple months for years on end and just move on like it’s completely normal? Now imagine how earth shattering it must be to think about doing the same to your actual child. All those years spent perfecting a fake smile and emotionless exterior like she was trained to have and her son shatters it in an instant. She becomes completely terrified about how he’s actually alive and in front of her right now and there’s nothing she can do to truly save him.. and yet she still recovers so damn quickly I can’t even comprehend it! But there’s still some sadness in those eyes. You can’t tell me otherwise. That one moment of weakness speaks volumes to me.

- So now with her general backstory FINALLY out of the way, we can finally start with ch01/ep01 and how her laugh is sweet and innocent. I say that because (all hidden emotions and motives aside) that’s exactly how she’s supposed to sound in this moment, not only to us but to the children as well.

- She of course checks Emma’s tracker a moment later but other than that I still think it’s a pretty genuine moment between the two.

- As previously stated, her ability to raise high quality children is unmatched, which is clear as day thanks to the fullscore trio.

- Despite their crazy level of intelligence, the trio has yet to win a simple game of chess against Isabella, even when teamed up.

- She treasures everything about the kids.

- She really cares about them, even when it’s time to send them off with a smile, which we know is thanks to her strong facade.

- But mother dearest isn’t really fine. She doesn’t like walking kids to their death, especially so young. But she can’t let them (or even herself) know that. She can’t show weakness, so she hums Leslie’s song, which is a tool she’s used for years in order to give herself strength.

- Don’t worry, I disliked her this moment happened too, just as the story intended. And here’s where her fantastic antagonist role begins for all the world to see.

- A true champ at jump scares.

- Acts completely calm the night after a couple of kids found out the secret of the farm.

- She uses the tracker in plain sight, sending whomever went to the gate last night a threatening but silent message.

- Correct Norman, that’s the “Iron Lady” for ya. Also the name of ch03 for us. Well, “The Iron Woman” but same difference.

- She switches from calculating and manipulative breeder to sweet and pleasant mother so quickly and effortlessly it’s incredible. Isabella even checked Emma’s pulse in this scene to see if she was acting normal.

- At this point she still had no idea who went to the gate (Ray didn’t tip her off yet, at least I don’t think so) but her guess couldn’t have been more precise. The level of fear she drives into both Emma and Norman was great too, but then again her presence is enough in any scene to give us chills.

- Notices her watchdog isn’t at his usual post and starts to get suspicious.

- Not only of him, Emma and Norman, but Don and Gilda as well, thus giving the five extra chores to finish in an attempt to slow down any escape planning, such as cleaning vacant rooms, organizing the pantry and inspecting spare linen.

- While the trio believes Isabella was being too soft and patient in finding her targets, she effectively catches them off guard by bringing in Krone for assistance. The trio soon realize they were actually preparing the sister’s new room and those mundane chores were just an excuse to buy time.

- Look at her, all smug. Checkmate indeed. (and totally not important, but her eyes are such pretty shades of purple)

- The sass and her no nonsense attitude.

- Immediately puts Krone in her place the moment she even thinks about shipping out the targets. Of course holding off on shipping the targets would benefit the farm, as it would produce higher quality merchandise as time passes, but plant 3 is run by Isabella and she’ll be damned if an assistant thinks they could waltz right in and decide her children’s fate.

- She check’s Emma tracker again despite her claim of knowing exactly who the targets might be. You can never be too careful.

- Her precious children managed to win a game of tag against Krone, which is still impressive considering the kind of training the sister has gone through, so kudos to her teachings.

- Knows right away that Krone was trying to take advantage, which allows Krone to realize that the opening she had to learn more about the children was all planned by Isabella herself. Her intimidating nature is enough to scare adults too.

- Reveals that Krone was mostly summoned in order to keep Ray in check after his failure.

- Despite the trust issue, Isabella still keeps up her end of the deal by requesting the items Ray asked for, thanks to the odd perks she had under Grandma Sarah which allowed her to order goods that weren’t on the supply list.

- This hug between her and Phil is just too cute not to mention.

- I imagine she makes this comment because she knows exactly how long a rope must be based off her own almost-escape.

- It’s just something about how this scene is framed alongside this dialogue that makes me think “oh, like mother, like son.”

- I blame her very thoughtful planning for my first big freak out when I watched season 1 blind, like ma’am that’s my favorite boy, please don’t.

- She conspires with Grandma Sarah in order to get rid of Krone for good, which renders the evidence sister just found out about the children’s escape completely useless. Sarah believes there might be some truth to it, but ultimately ignores it and puts her faith in Isabella’s ability of controlling the children & the situation.

- She then cuts Ray off and ends their six-year long deal, opting to control the situation herself from now on. Also, how she wanted to keep him around until the very end is kinda bittersweet. Does she mean as merchandise? Or because she wanted him to live as long as possible? Ah such a tricky little comment.

- She also tosses him across the room like a rag doll.

- Thank god for this panel existing and actually being adapted into the anime so I could hear it because I had absolutely no memory of her laughing in this moment.

- “She says it so nonchalantly,” Norman said once upon a time, and it’s still so frightening.

- As insane as her ideals seem given the circumstances, nothing she says here is really a lie.

- She has the strength to quite literally break a leg and that cracking noise still haunts me to this day.

- It wasn’t even a spur of the moment thing either. Isabella came fully prepared with bandages to fix up any injury she was willing to inflict and that thought alone is terrifying.

- Not only that, but she broke it so cleanly that Emma’s leg does indeed heal perfectly in the exact time frame she estimates. This entire moment is so unfairly impressive, like ma’am how dare you do this to Emma of all people.. like why couldn’t you at least use that kind of force to snap Peter’s neck instead or something?

- To make matters worse, she then reveals Norman’s shipment date. And it’s the following day, which sends the kids into a very understandable panic.

- Needless to say, November 2nd, 2045 was a very successful day in the life of Isabella. Woman was putting everyone in checkmate in ep08 and my anger on full blast.

- This sly smile she sends Ray’s way after announcing Norman’s shipment to the younger kids is so cruel.. it’s perfect.

- I can only imagine she asked about Ray’s whereabouts because she knew the boys were close friends and she hoped they would at least say goodbye to one another, but that’s just me.

- Puts an end to Norman’s parting words in such a simple and chilling matter.

- The way she just openly threatens Emma with others just out of earshot.

- Norman out here asking the real questions. If anything, I say she’s more “content” rather than happy. I don’t think she’s ever really thought about her own happiness, at least not often enough, hence the slight pause. This entire time she’s been focusing on how to make her children’s lives perfect, but for herself she just wants to survive in this hellish world they’re all living in.

- I’m honestly still not sure who’s final decision it is to send people to Lambda, either Isabella, Peter or someone else (honestly never bothered to check), but whether or not Isabella had any say in the matter, I’m sure she’s at least a little glad that Norman gets to live a bit longer? Perhaps that’s a stretch, but I’m putting the idea here anyway.

- I say this because I believe that’s part of the reason why she offered Emma a Mom recommendation, not only because our girl’s high test scores, but in hopes that she could live a longer life.

- Although she really stresses in an intimidation fashion how pointless Emma’s efforts are now that Norman’s “dead,” the cliff remains a major hazard and her leg is still bandaged up, Isabella still tries so hard to convince her to give up, like Ray has, in order for Emma to end her own suffering. It was the first instance during my blind watch-through were I started to get the hint that Isabella might actually care about her kids, and of course I know now it’s because she didn’t want Emma to experience the same pain she did after Leslie’s death.

- With Emma and Ray both broken, things went by rather smoothly for Isabella those last two months, though she continued to keep a close eye on them.

- Her humming is so soothing. And why it took me this long to bring up “Isabella’s Lullaby” is beyond me, but oh my god, that song and any other soundtrack that uses its melody is absolute perfection.

- Had enough sense to not let her guard down the final night, even though her efforts were ultimately unsuccessful, but the idea counts.

- Though her caretaker side is focused on more during the fire, some motherly instincts do kick in as she instructs Gilda to get the babies from her room and lead everyone outside to safety. She was also concerned for Emma’s well being, hoping all the smoke didn’t get to her when the girl vanished. (i know you can argue “she’s only worried because they’re merchandise” which is fair but c’mon, i swear she’s not completely heartless)

- Took a hot minute (ahha) but Isabella eventually realized that the kids were actually escaping solely based on what they were wearing on their feet. I’m sure Emma’s discarded left ear was a big tip off too but to come to that conclusion by noticing the shoes they had on during all that chaos is surprising.

- She looks completely insane here but I always thought this shot of her was nicely animated with all the fire (or embers? sparks? whatever they are) flying around. The laugh she does before this is also a nice bonus. Oh, and she somehow managed to secure a radio from the room Don had locked.

- Figured the fifteen kids would head towards the bridge and called in headquarters to block it off.

- But when the children didn’t appear at the bridge, she just happened to know exactly where else they might try to cross the cliff.

- In the anime’s case, Isabella climbed the wall and ran there quick enough to engage in a stare down with Emma before she finally slid down.

- The moment I knew I was doomed.

- After the 15 kids successfully escaped, Isabella admits defeat, for she couldn’t really see how much her children have grown to outsmart her.

- This iconic quote, which conveys so much truth and sincerity. There were multiple occasions where she had to distance and restrain herself due to the system that controlled her, but the love she was able to show the children was genuine. If she wasn’t held back by the strict rules enforced by Mom position, I don’t doubt she would’ve treated Ray better or became far more emotional whenever a child had to leave for good or seriously injured, instead of donning a fake smile and being closed off.

- She realizes with this unspeakable loss in merchandise, the reputation she worked so hard to build up is meaningless now and that the farm no longer has any use for such an incompetent caretaker. She figures she’s as good as dead anyway now, so she wastes no time in actually helping the escapees by reclaiming the ropes to hide their exact method and route of escape, if only to grant the kids some extra time before the pursuers really locate them.

- She doesn’t act bitter as a result of her loss, instead choosing to wish the escapees luck with the future they grasped for themselves and care for the children that were left behind.

- She’s just so pretty y’all. Thank you anime.

- She was named “Best Antagonist” (and rightfully so!) back during the 2020 Crunchyroll Anime Awards, winning over Askeladd (Vinland Saga), Overhaul, (My Hero Academia), Garoua (One Punch Man,) & others.

(Post-season 1 spoilers ahead, even though the anime is completely finished at this point, but will be touching upon her special chapter more as well.)

- Completely owns up to her mistakes that caused the farm a massive loss in profitable goods and is ready to received whatever punishment necessary, which she expects to be death.

- Only.. she’s not being killed, she’s actually being promoted to Grandma. Though Isabella was directly responsible for the children’s escape, the blame ultimately falls on Sarah who couldn’t correctly control Isabella, thus leading the old lady to be shipped out in place of the goods Isabella lost.

- Peter also notes that the farm found more worth in Isabella than Sarah, so her past merits also played a part in sparing her life, as having a woman like Isabella in charge would surely produce the level of quality the farm needs.

- Isabella eventually accepts the promotion, though she can’t help but feel hesitant and shocked about the whole deal. This woman was ready to embrace death and finally be free from this cruel world, but now she has to witness not only more kids being shipped off, but moms and sisters in training as well (yay old chapter reviews coming in clutch).

- She could have very well just refused Peter’s offer, but we all know how much Isabella originally wanted to survive, so she doesn’t just accept because this man dangled a sense of freedom in her face, she also agreed so she could have the opportunity to help her children in any way her newfound power would allow her.

- Of course, her transition to Grandma happens a bit differently in the second season, but I will give some bittersweet thanks to the anime once more for the obvious but curse them for also having this entire scene dark as hell. Let me see her beauty darn it! I can only fix the lighting so much until it looks overexposed and bad again.

Anyways, Sarah is still alive at this point and taunts Isabella with the escapee’s lives just to see how she would react, which gave her a small sense of hope. Then some demons pay a visit later on and also ask if she would want to see the children one last time, but Isabella tells them that not only would she be too ashamed to face them but that they would manage to survive Grandma’s capture plan, which involved several men blowing up their shelter. It’s now clear to the demons that these children are special, and while Isabella agrees, it’s not for the same reason the demons think so. The demons believe the kids are special because of how they were raised to such a high quality. Isabella calls them special simply because they’re her children, just as any mother would.

- In the anime, it’s the demons who offer Isabella the Grandma deal if Sarah’s current plan were to fail (which it does) and she takes it and the freedom from Grace Field House without question. Do I still believe she had similar intentions to help out the children like she did in manga at this point? Of course.

- Not even a full month into her new job did she start preparing to help Emma & the others by considering who from the current Sisters she wanted to recruit to personally assist her destroy the farm entirely.

- A month later and Isabella had already decreased the number of shipments that took place at Grace Field, which obviously helps raise the quality of the children by default, but it also means less death and gives those kids a chance to live longer.

- She completely anticipated that Matilda, Jessica, Sienna & Scarlet were conspiring against her and caught them quite easily, as they were among the top scorers.

- Each had a fair chance at becoming Moms but with those positions limited, it was obvious to figure out they were trying to force Isabella’s seat open by creating some suspicious activity to place on her almost perfect record. Unfortunately for the girls, our new Grandma is too smart for her own good and I love it.

- The four women are apprehensive to join her insane plan to go against the farm, but Isabella assures them there’s no freedom if they follow the system’s rules and betray her. The harsh reality they’re all living in will continue unless they stop competing with one another and combine forces to defeat the true enemy.

- To persuade them further, Isabella mentions the children they all gave birth to are still alive, bringing out an array of emotions from the women that they each thought they had buried deep down.

- THIS! Just all of this is wonderful and shows just how much Isabella learned from her children who once defeated her.

- To fully gain the women’s trust, she gives them Ray’s farewell note that he originally left in order to bait Krone, as proof she won’t double-cross them at any point.

- I love the fact that she kept the note close to her because it acts just like all the other various toys and items she saved in her secret room back at plant 3. The original owners were all precious to her so she kept a piece of them behind to remember them in a place only she knew about. As I said before when mentioning her “I wish I could have just loved them normally” quote, all the love she had for her children had to be suppressed when she was under the system’s control, but that doesn’t mean she never cared. Because she did, and if I haven’t made at least that clear by now then I’m failing.

- Can her intentions and love for her children be any more clear? (possibly, i’m not done with this darn post yet. how you guys holding up? i’m going a little insane at this point.)

- Anyways! Second season didn’t make the rest of the story easy so apologies for any timeline mishaps as I switch between both anime and manga events from here on out.. like how in manga Isabella is informed of the escapee’s return to Grace Field via Peter, while the in the anime it’s her who helps lures them back with a fake transmission via the radio they stole.

- Just before Emma & the others do return to Grace Field on November 13, Isabella finally reaches out to the farm’s many other Sisters to recruit them. She waited until the right moment to inform them of her crazy takeover plan so Peter wouldn’t become suspicious from all of headquarters acting/thinking differently (you know, like how Emma kept the jailbreak plan under wraps until the night of). These ladies also feel a bit wary and even think of Isabella’s offer as a joke, but with some real, heartfelt encouragement, she manages to win over every single woman to her side.

- The moment when it was first revealed to us that she was not only still alive but was also promoted to Grandma is still so powerful.

- She snaps Nat’s finger back into place after Peter broke it. (and considering emma’s group infiltrates the farm right after this, i’m pretty sure that ch170 with rallying the sisters took place before this..i think?)

- Gave me a minor heart attack.

- *CLAPS FRANTICALLY!!!* The moment she truly won me over. 

- While her betrayal against Peter in the manga is fantastic and quite possibly one of my favorite moments, the anime did give us a little something too. It shows Peter spewing utter nonsense to Emma about how she’s destined to fail, only for best girl to bite back with such a fantastic quote, and then Isabella drops the act and switches sides. While I agree Emma’s comeback is “wonderful,” it’s the English dub that completely wins me over in this scene by having Isabella comment “Now that’s my girl” instead, like bro.. hearing that makes me so happy.

- For real dude, you have several highly skilled women pointing guns at you, I think her betrayal is crystal clear.

- This is like the perfect example of how she had to conceal her feelings while bound by the system. She just misses these kids so much y’all but she can’t let her true emotions show yet.

- Having her call Peter a boy is beyond hilarious to me. Also, how she disagrees with him on so many levels is excellent, like how he believes in experimenting on kids and having the right to call yourself their parent just because you created them, while Isabella believes in raising and loving children normally and that you earn that parent title by actually being part of their lives. To be fair they both inflicted pain on kids (Nat’s finger/Emma’s leg) but Peter’s action was a mistake in itself. Isabella got frustrated back when Krone even threatened to ship out the kids who discovered the secret, so you can bet she’s probably pissed off at this boy for harming one of her kids on purpose.

- The best mother-daughter moment ever! It’s such a shame it never got truly animated since the second season decided not to give the children guns, but we get to see a small smile from Isabella after Emma decided to still call her “mom.”

- The anime never gave Peter the chance to run away, like he (somehow) managed to do in manga, so we had the chance to see someone actually shoot at him. Well, in his general direction at least. Isabella lands a perfect shot not even a full second after he pulls out that disc. Accuracy on point.

- Said this once or twice in the past in manga so I’m glad the anime brought it back.

- Remains cautious and keeps her gun raised at Peter when Emma approaches him and rightfully so considering he still had his knife hidden at this point.

- Refuses Emma’s offer to join the kids in the human world at first because she knows that her (& the sister’s) actions shouldn’t be forgiven so easily, but with some rather blunt sympathy from Ray and encouragement from her other children, she finally gives in.

- This entire post summed up in one image.

- She apologizes even though distancing herself from her kids and preparing them for death were just required of her role as a caretaker. She wouldn’t have done any of that in a normal world. (do i sound like a broken record yet? probably)

- The emotion you hear in her voice during this entire dub scene hits my heart in all the right places.

- She still thinks of Leslie after all this time and I think that’s real cute.

- Her protective nature is on full display when she protects Emma from this bastard of a demon. A truly surprising and heartbreaking moment, considering this is the woman who’s survival used to be her top and only priority in the past, but now doesn’t hesitate to give her life in order to save her kid (and by extension that small girl emma saved. also, major heart attack for me).

- Despite being critically injured, this woman still possess enough strength to hold back a demon twice her size. She doesn’t even pay any mind to its nonsense. Like the demon, people often think this is when redemption arc starts but I believe it started way back in ch37 when Isabella retrieved and hid the ropes the kids used to escape. Ever since she admitted defeat on the wall that night, she threw caution to the wind and began cheating the system in hopes to one day assist the kids achieve a brighter future. Despite all the work she’s done behind the scenes, Isabella believes there’s still so much more she can do to atone, so even though she’s already received the children’s forgiveness, she continues to assist them by jumping in and saving them directly from demons for once in her life.

- Ma’am it’s sweet you’re so concerned with their safety, but we should be asking you that question ya know? (but then again emma was the same way after she woke up from her coma).

- Knows that just apologizing and saving Emma isn’t enough to suddenly forgive all her actions and wants to do so much more for the children as a result. Even though I already acknowledged all her subtle and hidden moments, I wish we got to see her care for them more openly.

- I simply can not read through ch177 and not get emotional. No matter how hard I try, I always feel tears start to form in my eyes. Oh my god, how cruel that death can be this beautiful. It’s so unfair.

- *uses old chapter review because I’m too upset right now* “She apologizes for everything. For not treating him right and loving him as a mother normally would her own son. For making him despise his life so much and enduring so much pain that he thought the only escape was suicide.”

- “She leaves him with one last wish to protect everyone, and that completely breaks me because you know exactly how much they both care for their family. Not only would they literally die for their family, but they would live for them too if someone asked. Truly like mother, like son.” (aaaaaahhhhh)

- Her, umm.. ghost (along with Conny’s & Yuugo’s) help Ray reunite with Emma in 2049.

- All my tears aside, the anime did something right by actually keeping her ALIVE!

- Have you ever seen something so GODDAMN BEAUTIFUL in all your life?? This image is so powerful it literally tossed aside any salty feelings I had that night with how the second season ended. Seeing her like this grants me so much happiness y’all, it’s truly unbelievable. I still can’t get over it and hopefully I never will.

Okay, now I’m done, thank god. Sorry this is like ridiculously long, especially since she’s absent for sooo many chapters. Also find it so hilarious how drastic my opinion of her changed from the beginning to now, from “bitch” to “oh my god I love her so much.” I know people will always have opposing opinions whether she’s actually a good mother or not and that’s totally fine. Wasn’t trying to convince y’all of that either because yes, some of her actions are real unforgivable, but she was suffering under the farm system too and just followed through with what she was trained to do in order to survive, but while other Sisters fought to climb ranks and help themselves survive, Isabella ultimately wanted the best for her children. The more power she gained, the more risks she took and once the system crashed so did her facade.

An absolute queen.

#the promised neverland #mother isabella #tpn isabella #tpn manga #tpn anime #chidoroki used chatter

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fleckcmscott · 4 years ago

Text

Coffee & Donuts

Summary: Arthur’s thrilled to be part of a crowd. Though the evening doesn’t go perfectly, Y/N’s flirtations make it sweet.

Warnings: Smut

Words: 4,602

A/N: Alright. After the heart wrenching angst of my last piece (which I love, by the way; don't get me wrong! 😂), I had to write another story in which Arthur and Y/N are happy and together. It's inspired by one of Arthur's visions during their kiss. I hope you all like it! Special thanks to @jokerownsmysoul for beta-ing!

If you have any thoughts or questions, please comment, feel free to message me, or send me an ask. Requests for Arthur and WWH are open!

Parties and celebrations weren't foreign to Arthur. He'd worked plenty, enough to make him realize what he'd been missing out on. He was well-versed in pin the tail on the donkey, musical chairs, and balloon animals. But as an adult, those activities didn't satisfy. He wanted to be included rather than paid. Connect with people, introduce himself. Discuss his experiences and pursuits. Feel sufficiently at ease to loosen up a little and have a good time.

Now he was a guest - a certified guest - at Patricia Gorman's fifty-sixth birthday party. The first party he'd been invited to since being the weird kid in class who'd rotated between three worn out sweaters and could never afford a gift.

He'd been a tad apprehensive about going to Burnside. Gotham's nicest borough had a reputation for high rents and low tolerance. When Y/N and he had entered 2E, however, Patricia's greeting ("You made it!") and the apartment were thoroughly welcoming. Crocodile brown walls and forest green shag carpet made the spacious living room a cozy hideaway. Marigolds leapt across the polyester of the T-cushion sofa and its easy-chair companion. The floor lamp's amber, crimped glass shades cast the spacious living room in a glow borrowed from warm autumn days.

Patricia's husband, Robert, was out on an emergency call. An HVAC had gone haywire in a residential building in Hinckley. Her daughter, son-in-law, and grandson had been by for lunch. That meant the only other guests were Matt - Y/N's old boss - and a bottle-blonde in a black halter dress and spike heels, who Y/N introduced as Laura. ("She's Matt's ex-wife," Y/N later disclosed. "He's been trying to win her back since I moved to Gotham.") Both shook Arthur's hand when he offered it, and he felt a little thrill whirl his stomach when Y/N laid claim to him by telling the woman, "This is my husband."

A collection of appetizers served as dinner, a fun and novel menu. The slow cooker meatballs Y/N and he had lugged over on the subway were a bit tangy; he still couldn't believe the recipe called for grape jelly. The deviled eggs with paprika, a pleasant mix of savory and sweet, was a dish he'd heard about on television. Cream cheese and cucumber sandwiches were light and airy, a good match for his iced tea. Only the artichoke and spinach dip gave him pause. Its beans and hot sauce made his taste buds wince.

That unpleasant flavor was quickly forgotten when Y/N pulled him to sit next to her on the sofa, so Patricia could open her presents. She proudly showed off the orange, clay ashtray her grandson had made for her. Arthur, having successfully kept the secret of her light smoking from Y/N, chuckled at Patricia fibbing she'd put candy in it. She thanked Matt and Laura for the champagne, wrapped in a silver bow with a simple "Happy Birthday" tag. The bottle wasn't popped. Upon peeking into the large giftbag Y/N placed on her lap, she made a soft sound. The Dazey whirlpool bath, which attached to the side of the tub and had three strength settings, was a hit. She announced her plans to try it in the morning. The dark blue Rexbuilt briefbag was intended to replace her cracked, leather briefcase, Y/N explained. Patricia ran her fingertips along the expanding inner compartments, the personalized planner that included the credential "CLA" after her name, and flipped through the included steno pads, eyes brimming.

She sipped at her cocktail and put an arm around Y/N. Melancholy tinged Patricia's voice. "At my age, the people in your life tend to stay the people in your life. Whether you like them or not." She reached further and patted Arthur's knee. "I'm glad an old dame like me gets to call you all friends." His throat clenched in gratification, though he wasn't daring enough to squeeze her hand and thank her for deciding he was a friend.

Still on top of the world an hour later, Arthur sauntered to the red and white enamel dining table to serve himself a second slice of upside-down pineapple cake. The evening had gone well, better than a guy with a natural inability to mingle could've expected. He bobbed his head to the beat of "Come Fly with Me." It was a happy coincidence that Patricia's taste in music aligned with his. She'd regaled him with tales of seeing Sinatra and Count Basie on her and Robert's honeymoon in Vegas. Arthur took a bite absentmindedly, wondering how long it would take for him to save the money to surprise Y/N with plane and concert tickets.

The daydreaming didn't last long. Matt's plodding footsteps preceded him, followed by a long sigh as he propped himself on the beige stone of the dining area's accent wall, across from the u-shaped kitchen. He held out a Budweiser and smirked. "Marriage is a hell of a lot of work."

Pleased that he was being treated like one of the guys, like a regular husband with a regular relationship who got to speak about his regular wife, Arthur accepted the beer and considered the comment. Matt's sentiment was hard to grasp. Dr. Sally had said marriage could be difficult, and Y/N's first hadn't survived the ripples of her life. But it didn't feel like work with her. Their arguments were minor. Her nagging him to find a primary doctor for annual check-ups, even though he'd survived this long without one. Or back in Missouri, when he'd told her to stop shielding him and trust he could take anything she had to give.

Arthur adopted a similar nonchalant posture and jutted his hip against the table's edge. "I like it. It's easy to take good care of her." He wasn't able to completely erase the smugness of success from his tone.

"You're what? Two years in with the most headstrong woman in Gotham? She's great and all, but she spikes my blood pressure." Matt slapped Arthur's back and let out a hearty guffaw. "Give it five more and you'll be in my office trying to avoid alimony."

"Don't. Say that." Arthur crinkled the can in his grip and glared up at him.

"Hey," Matt started, withdrawing even as he tried diplomacy. "It was just a joke. I didn't mean anything by it."

Flinching, pulling at the cuffs of his red sweater, Arthur fought the surge of anger in his veins. It wouldn't do to lose control and cause a scene. Of course Matt's comment about them splitting up was supposed to be a joke. But Arthur didn't find it one bit funny. Even with his complete faith in her and his firm belief that they were meant to be together, the possibility that she'd stop wanting him hurt. It didn't occur to him that the implication of the punchline could be that he'd get sick of Y/N.

With a muttered apology, Matt walked to the others in the kitchen. Arthur glanced over to see her laugh tipsily, until she grabbed her stomach and swatted Patricia's shoulder, a stark demonstration of how much he and Y/N differed. She always knew how to respond to people, the right comebacks. Appropriate timing and levels of interaction. It seemed she was in her natural element, the loveliest swan on a lake. Whereas after years of therapy and practice with her, he was still a fish out of water, flopping around on the shoreline in hopes some stranger would take pity on him and throw him back into the sea.

Maybe that was the real punchline. Eventually their contrasts would no longer complement each other and instead become a chore.

Scowling, he ambled towards the record player stationed before two double-hung windows. Increased the volume to drown out the intrusive notions. It didn't really work. He settled on a grounding technique he'd practiced, all the while lamenting that he couldn't handle a party without needing it. His attention went to the spinning LP, the needle following its grooves. The bright blue album cover, where Ol' Blue Eyes beckoned him, the scuff marks on the cardboard's corner edges. He acknowledged the spider plants sat on the windowsill, worried a papery leaf until it broke off. He stared out the window, taking in the whole of the city. Pinpricks of light dazzling in the darkness.

"Gotham's beautiful at night," Y/N said from behind him. He glanced over his shoulder to watch her approach. Her cheeks glowed with alcohol and good cheer, the collar of her ivory blouse unbuttoned. "There's a life behind every light out there. Ten million of them. Here. Try this." She offered her hurricane glass, filled with an off-white slush.

He sipped the pina colada with cautious skepticism and grimaced as soon as it hit his tongue. The blend of pineapple and coconut tasted of cheap sunscreen and tropical imitations, the kind advertised in smudged brochures for bad cruises to islands with made up sounding names. "No, thanks."

Snorting, she shrugged and embraced his back at the waist. "How are we doing?" she asked, curling into his side. After a few seconds, she prodded him. "Had your fill of Matt?"

"He was just joking." Arthur rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. She set the drink next to the record player and brought her hand to his, trailed it over the inside of his wrist, up his forearm. She pecked his chin and nudged him until he turned to her. As soon as their gazes met, the concern in hers told him she'd continue to pepper him with questions. But he wasn't about to let his misplaced doubts spoil her evening. And he knew the perfect way to distract them both.

A new song started. An oldie that sang of Jupiter and Mars, playfulness among the stars. He cupped her cheek, thumb sweeping the corner of her mouth. "Dance with me," he said. Before accepting his proffered palm, she laid a sloppy kiss on him. With a flutter of her eyelashes, she grinned, and his smile grew to match her own. As he held her side, led her in a slow, swaying circle, he marveled at her. At her ability to soothe every molecule, every lingering ache. Self-assurance welled in him, chased away his earlier dejection. He cradled her to his lanky frame, trembled and felt himself blush. She was the only woman for him. That was as certain as his cigarette habit.

Despite Patricia's reassurances she was fine, that Robert working late wasn't unusual, Y/N insisted on staying until he got home. Though Arthur would have preferred they take their leave an hour earlier, being allowed to smoke inside blunted his grumbling. The disarming flirtations she bestowed on him also didn't hurt. She'd pour herself a drink (four in total, if he counted correctly), help Patricia make a plate of leftovers for her husband, then throw him a wink. Whisper and cackle while cleaning, then kiss his temple.

Around midnight, Patricia put her foot down. Ushered them out with a promise to call and a hug fierce enough to crush his ribs. She raised a brow at Y/N's unsteady gait, grasped Arthur's arm, and said with a wry, tired smile, "Make sure you put that woman straight to bed." His dark brows shot up and held. Had she intended a pun? Or had Y/N's spare caresses caused the interpretation? Either way, he liked being trusted to take care of her. And the hint of arousal that flared in his belly.

By the time they stumbled into their apartment, that arousal had reduced to a dull exhaustion. She kicked off her heels on the way to the bathroom, calling a slurred "night!" as she closed the door. Yawning, he put dish soap and hot water in the crockpot, scrubbed burned bits of sauce from its rim, turned it upside down on a towel to dry. Once he'd brushed his teeth for one minute rather than the recommended two, he tossed his sweater, trousers, briefs, and socks in the hamper, and went to the bedroom. He found his blue pajamas in their usual spot, the chair in the corner, and slid them up his skinny but toned legs. Tucked in next to her, he was carried to sleep on waves of fatigue and her quiet, wet snoring.

~~~~~

A tickle threatened to rouse him. Whispers along the waistband of his bottoms. Heat snuggled his back. Delightfully drowsy, he cuddled deeper into cozy, cream-color sheets, already returning to a pleasant, dreamless slumber. But a rumble of exhaust, likely from a bus that needed a new muffler, dragged him to consciousness. Arthur grumbled and tucked his arm under his pillow, not ready to transition to a world of overcrowding and concrete, commotion and bad jokes.

Yet, Y/N's insistent grazes continued, luring him with promises of placid pleasure. Her toes wiggled at his heel until he made space for her to slip her foot between his ankles. The corner of his mouth quirked. He was reminded of last night's playfulness, her endless teasing. The way he'd held the crockpot as a shield to fend off her advances on the train home, her forwardness to the point that he would've preferred having a laminated card to present on her behalf. Forgive my wife: she has a condition. It causes frequent and uncontrollable displays of affection.

Nimble fingers edged lower, loosened the tie of his pajamas before dipping beneath the loose elastic to lace through his dark brown curls, darker than the chestnut hair on his head. Her knuckles ran over him, lazy caresses full of intent. Up and down, up and down. Delicate. Deliberate. The blood racing to his groin, the pleasant swelling, made his abdomen twitch. Soon full and heavy, the sensitive tip straining the cotton seams, he pressed his lips together. When she skimmed the tender skin resting on his inner thigh, he flexed the muscle at the base of his erection. It bobbed and hit her wrist and she let loose a girlish giggle, more intoxicating than wine.

With her left leg draped over him at the knee, she undulated against his rear. Plush lips brushed the boney knobs of his spine, damp breath fanned the nape of his neck, labored, needy. Pebbled nipples grazed his back through the thin nylon of her nightgown, taunting and compelling. He made up his mind to throw an arm around her, to yank her on top of him. To eagerly take part in her seduction.

But she withdrew from his bottoms to palm his stomach and plant a gentle kiss to the shell of his ear, whispering, "Sleep tight." The mattress shifted and she rolled away from him. He furrowed his brows. She rarely relented this easily - other times he'd awakened, hard and aching, enveloped by the captivating wetness of her mouth. What was she up to?

Covers rustled. Her calf bumped his. And the opposite of what he'd assumed occurred. Instead of light footfalls leading out of the room, there was silence, silence that seemed to stretch on and on...

Until a hitched gasp gave her away.

Touching herself. She was touching herself. She'd just been all over him, acted like he was some sort of model on the cover of Vue magazine, and now she was touching herself. Right beside him! Ecstatic to have inspired such brazenness, he grinned and fisted the pillow. Her fleeting, stifled moans tangled him in knots, implored him to give her what they both burned for.

He flipped in her direction, his hand shooting under the sheet to grab hers. "Gotcha."

Eyes wide, she gaped at him in surprise. But adoration softened her expression as she entwined their fingers. "How long have you been awake?" she asked.

"Long enough."

He stretched to rewind the shades, the diaphanous curtains staying in place. Sunlight diffused over them, wrapped around her face, lent her disheveled hair a warm luster. He twirled a feathered lock and pecked her eyelids. "Finishing what you started on the subway, hm?"

"Me?" Y/N brought his knuckles to her mouth. "You're the one who came to bed without any underwear."

"Well, it was a late night." The pad of his thumb tugged at her bottom lip to reveal the pink tip of her tongue. He bent to claim it. "I was lucky to find my pajamas."

Chuckling, she broke their connection. "Did you have a good time?"

"Yeah. The cake was good. And the music. Everyone was nice."

"Patricia loved having you there. She thought you were very sweet." A pause as she mapped a dimple. "Matt said he'd upset you. Something stupid about breaking up?"

Vague shadows of discomfort flashed through Arthur, a frustration he'd mostly moved on from. He did his best to ignore it, waving her concern away. "Don't worry about it."

"He was just jealous, you know." Her nails ran along the small of his back. "He wants Laura to look at him the way I look at you."

Arthur had spent so much of his life yearning for change, to understand his purpose in the world and improve himself. The idea that a man with a good education, a successful career, and no disabilities could ever be jealous of him was, frankly, bizarre. But he didn't correct Y/N, instead locking her praise within his heart, preserving it for when he needed it most. He boosted himself on his forearm and fiddled with her V-neck, traced its button loops as he slipped the plastic knobs through them. "And how's that?'

A hint of scandal glimmered in her irises. She arched into him as he eased a strap down her upper arm to reveal her shapely breast, the lilac fabric momentarily catching on its taut peak. "Like I can't get enough of you."

He huffed at that, fondled her faintly before his lips met the velvety skin of her chest. A tonic comprised of the musk oil she'd dabbed on before the party and distinct sexual wanting wafted to his nostrils. He licked at her nipple, the bumps on her areola, and drew it between his teeth. She whined softly and lifted the bottom of her nightdress to her waist.

Hurriedly, he yanked on the waistband of her cotton panties, pushed them past her knees. She kicked them off while he knelt to lower his bottoms. Straddling her, he pumped himself back to hardness and opened the drawer of her nightstand. He searched haphazardly until he retrieved a small, glass bottle of lubricant. (She'd ordered it from a mail catalog, both of them a bit too bashful to walk into an adult shop, even together.)

She snagged it from him and poured half a teaspoon in her hand, then palmed herself. He moved between her legs and she grasped his length, coating him with the warm, slippery liquid. He pushed forward into her. Gradually, slowly, savoring every millimeter of her enticing heat. He noted the stretch of her mouth, the jut of her jaw, the lifting of her upper lip. "Mmm..." she breathed and begged him to keep going. When he did, her head tilted back into the pillow, eyelids falling shut. A smile cut across her cheeks as she purred her satisfaction. "Arthur, I love you."

His touch wandered down the curve of her thigh. At the sight of her subtle writhing beneath him, the sway of her slightly uneven breasts in time with his languid thrusts, he pushed her knee into the mattress, splayed her wider. He grunted lowly. "Look at me."

Their gazes met but didn't hold for long; hers dropped to where they were joined. She caressed right above his pubic bone. "I love seeing you like this." Her fingertips walked a line up his sternum to his chest. "And touching you like this." She wrapped her arms around his middle and drew him to her, locked their lips in a greedy kiss. "And making love like this."

He snorted. "I think this is the only reason you married me."

"Well, not the only reason. There's your good hair, too."

"I've been thinking about cutting it. Trying something new."

"Don't you dare." She tugged at his loose curls, wore her best pout. "What else would I hold onto when we're doing this?"

Laughing lightly, he bumped his nose to hers. Falling into her was like falling into his old fantasies, the ones that'd sustained him through years of isolation. Dates at diners, at comedy clubs, at donut shops, at home. Their shapes had changed as he'd matured, his role in them, his aspirations and infatuations. But they'd remained a warm comfort nonetheless, a place that felt like belonging. And now he belonged with her. Hunger filled him. Happiness. And love. So much love, more than he'd ever believed he'd carried in him. He bucked a little harder. "You feel so good," he murmured. "You make me feel so good."

A strained cry left her and her pelvis answered his steady rhythm with demands of its own. Her calves rose to squeeze him closer, encircle his narrow hips. They were pressed together so tightly; it felt like they were one flesh. He never wanted it to stop. But a dizzying euphoria had ignited, one that eclipsed the romantic yearnings of his heart, twisting his desire to last all morning into the desperate drive to possess her. Gasping, Arthur raised himself to his knees, delving deeper with each push. Their foreheads met and he grit his teeth at the scald of her, the texture of her walls. She fit as though she'd been made for him.

He supposed she was.

Pressure began in the base of him, building and building in terrific torment. The muscles of his inner thighs contracted inward. Tingling climbed his shaft, his tailbone, his spine. He wove his fingers into the sheet, his grip a vise that wrested its corner from the mattress. She kissed the spot where his jaw met his neck, all the while murmuring encouragements for him to let himself go.

Bliss shot through him, from the tips of his toes to the follicles on his scalp, and his back stiffened as he whimpered and poured into. Fever engulfed his frame, sublime in its frenzy, leaving him in a heady stupor. Aftershocks made him tremble. Once, twice. Until, sated and spent, he landed on top her. He closed his eyes, ribs rising and falling as he forced air into his lungs.

A minute later, he swallowed and looked down at her. "You didn't come."

She carded through his sweaty locks. "It's all righ-"

"Shh." He slid out of her and settled at her side, reached between her legs to swipe at her core. "I'm not done," he declared, tracing the edges of her entrance, slick and swollen. One of his favorite things about getting her off was demonstrating his prowess in bed, how well he'd learned with her. His thumb met her plump clitoral hood, and he felt her throb beneath his ministrations.

Nails biting his bicep, she rocked upwards. A bewitching blush crept up her breast, her neck, spread across her cheeks. Shallow pants hit his face, short puffs suffused with high-pitched whines, utterly irresistible. He circled her nub at a steady cadence, tapping when she'd shiver, and she clasped the back of his hand. He swirled his tongue around her nipple, sucked the pretty peak, and lowered the other strap of her nightgown to bare her completely. A hushed plea fell from her lips. "Please, please..."

Suddenly, her vulva grew white hot and she seized, her hips stuttering with each flutter of his touch to her folds. She thrusts her breasts towards him, a sharp moan caught in her throat. Liquid pooled against his fingers, proof of her rapture that made him wish, with mild amusement, that he could be an unmedicated young man again. He would've gladly taken her a second time.

Giggling and rubbing her temple, she released a long exhale and opened her eyes. He brushed her hair back and grinned, completely smitten, like the first time he'd heard a joke and understood the punchline. The light brown picture frame on his nightstand caught his attention, and he regarded the wallet size photo in it, one of the shots of Y/N from the booth at Amusement Mile. The last thing he looked at before turning in each night. He lay his head her shoulder and hummed, listened to the drum of her heart.

She smooched his hairline and wriggled out from beneath him to stand. Her nightie had been reduced to a crumpled stripe of lilac cinched about her waist. It felt tawdry and shameless and he wanted to see her in it for the rest of the weekend. But she peeled it down her legs, wrinkling her nose when it got stuck on her thighs, and stepped out of it one foot at a time. She dropped it on the floral bedspread and retrieved her bathrobe from the closet. "Meet you in the kitchen," she said, opening the door.

The sun had risen higher, its beams slanting across the covers. He basked in it, catlike, then swung his legs over the side of the bed. He pulled on his pajamas, got a new pair of socks from their dresser, and made his way to the kitchen. He washed off the remnants of Y/N's arousal from his fingers, popped open a prescription bottle and took a tablet. He poured water into the coffeemaker, grabbed the can of grounds from the second shelf, added three scoops to the paper filter. Their three-tone brown mugs sat in their spot next to the machine, waiting to be filled.

When the glass coffeepot was half full, Y/N emerged from the bathroom, chuckling to herself. She opened the breadbox on the opposite counter and took out a wax paper bag. "Do you have any idea how dull this morning would have been if we'd never met? I'd have read the Sunday paper, had a drink. Probably worked on a file." He handed her a couple dessert plates, watched her put a donut on each one. "I wonder where you'd be. What woman you'd have breakfast with, what jokes you'd be writing, what magic tricks you'd have learned."

"Um..." At first he wanted to ask where this speculation had come from, if Matt had let her in on exactly what he'd said. But the confident slant of her smirk told Arthur she was teasing. He tried to play along but winced. No matter how appealing, how extraordinary she found him, his gut told him there wouldn't have been another woman. There'd be no more stand-up routines, no more Carnival. He certainly wouldn't be taking care of Penny. He'd likely be locked up in the hospital, maybe even dead. Without an anchor, his life would have lost what little sense it had.

Y/N was one of his anchors now, hooked into the sand alongside his material, treatment, the ability to pay bills. He seized her hand and squeezed it tight, unaware he was squishing her fingers. "I don't wanna think about it," he said quietly.

She sidled up to him and pulled him to her side. Rubbed his flank soothingly and pecked the corner of his mouth. "Don't worry." She took his chin and guided him to look at her. The intimate comfort of her smile helped him believe her next words, even before she spoke them. "I'll always be here."

~~~~~

Tag list (Let me know if you want to be added!): @harmonioussolve @ithinkimaperson @sweet-nothings04 @stephieraptorr @rommies @fallenstarsabyss @gruffle1 @octopus-plasma @tsukiakarinobara @arthur-flecks-lovely-smile @another-day-in-chuckletown @hhandley80 @jokerownsmysoul @fakestreet @ralugraphics @iartsometimes

#arthur fleck #arthur fleck fanfic #arthur fleck smut #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck x female reader #arthur fleck x ofc #joker 2019 #watchwhathappens

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littlemisspascal · 4 years ago

Text

Ezra’s Journal Entries #1-3

Fandom: Prospect / Pedro Pascal

Pairing: Ezra x Female!Reader

Word Count: 1,269

Summary: You and I were made from the same star, you said with such conviction it stole the breath from my lungs, bound to each other for eternity by the Currents of the universe.

Warnings: angsty fluff, Ezra’s dealing with the aftermath of the Green, language, 1st person POV (Ezra), dialogue in italics because that’s just how I chose to do it, no beta so all mistakes are mine

Author Note: I know I said Death and Angel would come out next, but I got such a inspiration high and the words came out so quickly I just told myself screw it and decided to share what I have. If anyone thinks this is a series worth pursuing, let me know. If you don’t, well, just be gentle please 💖

Cross-posted on AO3

Entries #4-6

Look for additional notes at the bottom.

My name is Ezra.

I have my mama to thank for that. Time has erased her face from my memory, but her voice is ingrained into the tissue of my brain the same way these words are inked on this parchment. She was a bonafide believer that the meaning of a child’s name influenced the course of their destiny. When I was no taller than the height of her waist I learned my own name’s denotation: help.

It’s just a tick too ironic, isn’t it? To be destined to help others when I can’t help my own self. I gave the Green far too little credit. It didn’t just pilfer my arm to satisfy its ravenousness, it greedily stole my sense of purpose too.

Every night I thank the deities you didn’t accompany me there. If the Green had taken you...

I know how worried you are about me, little love of mine. When I look at you, I find you already looking back, a sweet smile gracing your lips even as concern burns in your eyes as an eternal flame. From day one you’ve always been looking at me, seeing every disgraced flaw and scar—even the invisible ones carved into the darkest edges of my soul. Kevva knows I’ve never been capable of concealing anything from you, but fuck if I don’t wish I could sometimes.

You’re asleep now as I write this, tucked against my side in the vacant space my arm once occupied, drooling on my shirt. I love you so much it hurts. A black hole in my chest perpetually aching to be filled by your presence. And as we venture once more into the starry sea, our ship gliding past the imaginary wings of Noctua, I find myself recalling a theory you once told me many cycles ago about humans being made in the womb with stardust infused in their bones, linking them to the universe. You and I were made from the same star, you said with such conviction it stole the breath from my lungs, bound to each other for eternity by the Currents of the universe.

And it’s undoubtedly selfish, but all I could think of in that tender moment beyond kissing you was how I didn’t want an eternity spent together with our cosmic bodies intertwined.

I want longer.

Soon after we awoke and each consumed a slice of bush bread bought during our recent docking at Kamrea, you fiddled with the channels on the ship’s radio, hoping to hear news from your homeworld but cursing when you only heard static. Then, without an ounce of forewarning, music burst out with an almighty scream through the speakers at full volume, flooding the whole compartment with a woman’s warbling. It was the same crusted Vayok song that merc Inumon blared in my ears during my last night on the Green, every note an individual needle piercing my skull, impossible to ignore.

Reality deserted me, leaving me to sink to the depths of the abyss within my mind where all I could see was Cee’s pale, disturbed expression as she looked to me for guidance. I remembered how my tongue felt clumsy in my mouth as I tried my damnedest to negotiate our transport, thinking if I could just piece together the right sequence of words, if I could just get their lingering eyes off of her, then maybe, maybe we’d have a chance at salvation.

The memories coalesced, overlapping and blurring and mixing out of order. Each one was drenched in spilt blood.

Then your pinky wrapped around mine. The touch was soft yet firm, the action childlike in its innocence. It was such a jarring contradiction to my mind’s violent narrative, my consciousness was hurtled back into the living quarters of our ship as a result. You didn’t say anything when you saw I returned to you. Instead, you swallowed down the questions lodged in your throat and led me by our entwined fingers back to our bed.

There’s a plant back home called a dandelion, you told me with my head resting in your lap, a far better comfort than any pillow could provide me. It’s the only plant in the galaxy you can see the sun, the moon and the stars when you look at it. That’s not why it’s my favorite though.

I asked how it had won your heart’s favor if not due to its resemblance to the celestial bodies, then immediately found myself mesmerized by the smile that lit up your face as you peered down at me. My chest cavity tightened as I was filled with the profound longing to be able to suspend time, if only so I could stretch this moment to match the length of our separation, if only so I could erase the old and replace it with the beautiful new.

Dandelions grant wishes, babe. Anything you wish for with your whole heart, it will be yours to have.

I told you I wouldn’t wish for anything—nothing else in the galaxy could compare to the prettiest, wisest soul I’d ever encountered in all my years traversing it. You saw right through that lie with the same confident ease you see through all my masks and diversions, but—for the second time in the span of an hour—you held your tongue.

This journal’s as good a place as any to admit the honest truth. So here it is: I wish with the entirety of my bloody, beating heart I could be the man you deserve, little love of mine.

When you read, whether it be a book or the flight manual, you have the precious habit of mouthing the words. I don’t think you have the faintest notion you’re even doing it, which makes it all the more endearing to watch.

My brother had a similar habit, always nose deep in the yellowing pages of classic literature, except he had a proclivity to spoil the plot when he talked in his sleep. I remember there was one particular novel he returned to often, sometimes reading from beginning to end, other times seeking out specific segments he’d underlined in bold, black pen. It was a rather dreary tale about war and rivalry and the process of determining one’s own identity. I became so exasperated with my brother’s obsession I considered shredding it on more than one occasion, only to immediately hate myself for entertaining the thought.

It was only after his death—twelve whole cycles, in fact—that I summoned up the will to open the front cover. Seeing his name scribbled in the corner, cursive and neat and so utterly him, nearly had me tearing the book in half, overcome with a vicious rage I had never known prior nor have I encountered since. But by the almighty grace of Kevva I reigned it in, chaining it to the agony and fear imprisoned within the confines of my rib cage, and turned the page.

There was one segment underlined not once, but three times, nearly bleeding ink onto the page behind it. When I close my eyes, the words are tattooed on the backs of my eyelids, as haunting as they are comforting.

So the more things remained the same, the more they changed after all. Nothing endures. Not love, not a tree, not even a death by violence.

The author lived and died centuries before my brother’s inception, that is an inarguable fact.

But I know those words were written for him all the same.

Notes:

There is an actual theory humans are made of stardust ✨

The Sater within Prospect mention the Currents as being responsible for bringing Ezra and Cee to them, so I imagine them as similar to the Fates/Moirai in Greek mythology.

Noctua is a real life, extinct constellation that is Latin for owl. I thought within this Prospect universe it could exist as a type of landmark or coordinate. Plus I love owls 🦉

Crusted is a term from Prospect Ezra uses. Equivalent of damn. I think there’s something funny about how they use creamy as a positive adjective and crusted as negative.

Vayok is the alien language Inumon speaks within the movie, so I decided to write the song she blares as being sung in the same language

Bush bread is referenced in a deleted scene by Ezra, but a google search revealed to me it’s also a real life type of bread too

In the same deleted scene Ezra references that he has a brother. I haven’t decided his name yet/if he will have one

The book and quote Ezra refers to in #3 is John Knowles’ A Separate Peace. One of the few required reading books I liked back in high school.

The quote about dandelions being the sun, moon and stars is based on the legend of how dandelions came into existence. I always thought it was beautiful.

Series Taglist: @insomniamamma

Permanent Taglist: @promiscuoussatan, @melobee, @randomness501, @absurdthirst, @captain-jebi, @artsymaddie, @happiestsparkleofall, @disgruntledspacedad, @gallowsjoker, @aerynwrites, @vintagesaph, @sylphene, @chibi-yuki, @freeshavocadoooo, @stilllivindue2spite, @pointy-sharp, @leilei-draws, @over300books, @theocatkov, @oh-no-a-whovian, @you-and-i-deserve-the-world, @lin-djarin, @rogertaylorsfalsettogivesmehives, @coaaster, @waywardmando, @thisshipwillsail316, @grogusmum, @asta-lily, @mylifeofcalculatedchaos @tacticalsparkles

#ezra #ezra prospect #Prospect #ezra x reader #ezra x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #ezra's journal #prospect fanfiction #ezra fanfic #my fic #my writing #pedrostories

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pregnant-piggy · 4 years ago

Text

Mum’s getting married again

Blaise Zabini x reader

words: 10.1k

warnings: light swearing, mentions of food and alcohol, crappy mother-son relationship, making out scene

written for @sleep-i-ness writing challenge

prompts: ‘This, right here, is where I’m meant to be.’ and ‘Kiss me, you idiot.’

A/N: I’m finally back! I worked hard on this in the past two weeks and I am quite proud of it, I hope you will like it too!

The chill of the fridge fell on your bare legs as you opened the door, searching for the juice that you swore you had bought last week. The upper half of your body was hidden behind the open door and the other half stuck out, revealing your pyjama shorts and bare legs with your feet in socks to anyone who’d walk into the kitchen. Humming a song to yourself you pushed aside the eggs and butter, having found the juice in the back of the fridge.

Someone behind you cleared their throat and you jumped up, almost hitting your head on the top shelf. With an angry frown on your face you turned around and met eyes with your roommate, Blaise. He had a smirk on his mouth at your annoyed face.

The tendency to make a rude comment left your mind as you noticed he had a pink letter in his hand. You raised your eyebrow and nodded to the letter, while you closed the fridge with your hip. ‘Got a letter from your lover?’

Blaise rolled his eyes and he took place at the breakfast table in front of you, waving the letter through the air. ‘It’s from my mum,’ he said plainly.

‘What’s she written ‘bout?’ you asked, taking a bite from your toast. ‘And why is it pink?’

Blaise sighed and he tossed the letter over to you. It landed right in front of your plate and you lowered your toast to look at it. While Blaise got up from his chair and walked to the kitchen counter, you took up the letter and read what it said.

‘She’s getting married?’ you asked surprised, after realising that it wasn’t a letter but a wedding invitation. ‘Again?’

Even with his back to you, it was clear to you what Blaise’s facial expression was. Though he didn’t hate his mother, the relationship with her was not what you would call good. In the past Blaise had tried to get closer to his mother, but after she had left all attempts cold he had given up. Now there was a letter every once in a while and she came over for his birthday once a year. That was, if she didn’t forget.

As Blaise’s best friend you had stood by his side and had watched how much effort Blaise had put in repairing the bond with his mother and how much pain it had caused him. You had seen him slowly grow numb over the issue until the point where he was now; completely indifferent. Or at least, that was what he wanted you to believe. Being Blaise’s friend had learned you to look further than he let out to anyone and you could see that the issue with his mother still made him angry and disappointed. But as long as he didn’t want to talk about it, you wouldn’t push on the subject.

‘Did you know she was dating anyone?’ you asked carefully, after you had read the entire invitation. ‘Has she ever mentioned—what’s his name?’

A denying grunt came from Blaise as he shrugged. He turned around and you saw the grimace on his face, no matter how hard he was trying to hide it. You offered him a reassuring smile and poured yourself a glass of juice, giving him some time to recollect himself.

After a minute he sat back down at the table and stole a slice of toast from your plate. You didn’t even bother to make a notion of it and gestured to the letter, silently asking him what he was going to do about it. Blaise stayed silent for a while and his brows scrunched together as he thought. With a faint smile you watched Blaise’s concentrated face, admiring how his eyes squeezed closer and his teeth sunk into his bottom lip.

Anyone would be a fool to deny Blaise was handsome. Although you weren’t a fool in that respect, you knew that the feelings you were harbouring for your best friend were nothing but foolish. At first you had thought it was just something that would disappear after a while; just a crush. Nevertheless, time passed and the crush did not go nor fade. In contrary, the feelings only grew more intense to the point where you cursed yourself every day when you woke up for not being able to control yourself. With every sign you thought you got from him, you had to remind yourself that Blaise was just your friend.

Yet, you couldn’t help but admire the man that was sitting in front of you in moments like these. There was no harm in that, you figured. The worst thing that could come from it was that Blaise noticed and his ego grew even bigger, if that was possible at all.

Blaise’s eyes glittered in the light from the lamp over the table and you shook your head and looked away. Instead you focused on the pink card that lay on its side on the table. The design of the card was simple; it was a pink background with golden letters announcing that the ‘happy couple’ would make their promises to each other in a mere two months from now.

‘It wouldn’t be the worst thing if you went,’ you said slowly, after Blaise had been quiet for a while. ‘I mean, maybe it is good to see your mother again. She wasn’t at your birthday either.’

Blaise ripped his gaze from the point he had been staring at and looked at you. A hot streak shot to your cheeks at his intense stare but you kept staring back at him, waiting for him to answer. You drowned in the darkness of his eyes and the sparkles that danced in them.

He was the first to break eye contact and looked down at the letter, his hands coming on the table to hold the card. His fingers played with the edges and he cleared his throat thrice before he finally spoke.

‘Would you come with me?’ he asked and pleadingly looked up to you.

Maybe this was the reason why you had fallen for Blaise; the softness that he seemed to wear around you. When he was around you he was more than the Blaise that he was with others. He was more caring, was not afraid to show his soft side and weaknesses. It may have costed you almost a decade to get there, but you wouldn’t want to trade this Blaise for any other person in the world.

‘Of course I will,’ you said and took his hand over the table. He shot you a thankful smile and nodded content.

‘You better look amazing because I don’t wanna get there with the mess I’m sitting with right now,’ Blaise said and his cocky smile came back to his lips.

You let out a loud laugh and shook your head. ‘When has that ever been a problem? I always look fabulous!’

‘Whatever makes you sleep at night, love,’ Blaise chuckled and he messed up your hair when he walked past you out of the kitchen. You turned around and watched him leave, arranging your hair and feeling the heat on the place his fingers had touched your scalp.

-=-=-=-=-

‘You’re going to the wedding with him? As his date?’

‘No! As his friend, you moron!’ you said, throwing a fry to Pansy, who was wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

Together with your two friends, Pansy and Daphne, you were sitting at a table in the far back of the bistro, surrounded by empty tables. When you had told them about what happened over the phone, Pansy and Daphne had immediately called an emergency meeting and ordered you to meet them.

Playing with the straw of your drink you looked at the two girls sitting opposite of you. Daphne was picking the tomatoes off her burger, placing them carefully at the side of her plate, while Pansy was rolling her eyes at you and she threw the fry back at your plate.

‘You know what this means, right?’ Pansy asked and shot you a sly smirk. ‘Going to a wedding with someone is a big step.’

‘God, Pansy, it’s just a wedding,’ you said, throwing your hands up in the air. ‘He wouldn’t go alone and I think he should see his mom again. What else was I supposed to do when he asked me? Say no? You don’t know how he was looking at me!’

‘Was it something like this?’ Pansy asked and she dropped her jaw and made the most googly eyes she could manage.

‘That is actually quite accurate,’ Daphne snickered.

You stared at Pansy and tilted your head to the side, knitting your eyebrows together. Taking your drink from the table, you leaned back in your chair and shrugged. ‘What are you doing? Why is that accurate?’

Pansy’s jaw dropped for real now as she noticed you weren’t kidding and Daphne shook her head. You stared at your two friends, waiting curiously for their answer.

‘Sweetie, it’s obvious he likes you,’ Pansy said and her soft voice told you she wasn’t kidding anymore. Your eyes widened and you looked between Pansy and Daphne. The first one was giving you a sweet smile and Daphne took your hand over the table and gave it a little squeeze.

‘No,’ you breathed and you cleared your throat, trying to find back your voice. ‘No, he doesn’t like me! If he did he would’ve told me, right?’

‘Like how you told him you like him?’ Daphne asked and Pansy chuckled softly.

‘Well, that’s different,’ you tried, even though you knew that it was actually the same. However, the more you thought about it, the less it made sense to you. Blaise couldn’t like you. If he did you would have noticed; you had known him for years, you would have seen it. But in the back of your mind there was a voice telling you that he hadn’t noticed you liked him too and he knew you as long as you knew him.

Pansy gave you a comforting smile, but that couldn’t help the balloon that was growing in your stomach. Your plate with food seemed cold and tasteless and the drink in your hand was bland. After what felt like an hour, you got your voice back and leaned forward in your chair.

‘No, it’s bullshit,’ you said determined, placing your drink back on the table with more force than you had intended. ‘Blaise doesn’t like me. He can’t.’

Daphne and Pansy snorted and they glanced at each other before Daphne said, ‘Remember when he asked you to live with him?’

In the living room of your parental house you were half-sitting, half-lying on the couch while you stared at the TV on the other side of the room. This was the summer that you had thought would be the best of your life, but so far you had done nothing on your list and almost every night you had spent on the very same couch you were on now, mindlessly watching soaps and films. The days were filled with trying to find a cool place in the shadow of trees in the garden of the house and eating strawberry icy lollies. On some days you would meet with your friends and do the exact same with them.

This day had been no exception to the rest. In the morning your parents had dragged you along to a flea market on the other side of the city and you had been forced to feign enthusiasm on forty year old sticky tables and paled garden gnomes. The afternoon you had spent on the phone with Daphne, who was with her parents in France.

And now it was after dinner and you had stationed yourself on the sofa, while your parents had a glass of wine in the garden. Time passed by slowly as you blankly gazed at the moving figures on the TV-screen, not even registering what they were talking about. Maybe someone died, maybe someone slept with their best friend’s boyfriend. Whatever it was, you didn’t know.

The characters completely lost your attention when there were footsteps in the hallway. You lifted from the couch and leaned forward a little to see who it was. Honestly you hoped it weren’t your parents wanting to spend time with you; you had had your fair share of that already today.

So a smile formed on your face when Blaise stepped into the room. Muting the sounds from the TV, you sat up straight, creating some space for Blaise to sit. His eyes glanced at the TV as he sat down.

‘Whatcha watching today?’ he asked, knowing you were bingeing any series you could find at the moment.

‘I don’t know,’ you shrugged. ‘I wanna say something with a hospital, but I am not sure.’

Blaise chuckled and then he cleared his throat. You raised your eyebrow at him, noticing that there was something different about his behaviour today. He seemed a little nervous and his gaze was pointed at his hands as he spoke to you.

‘I wanted to ask you something,’ he started and his voice got smaller with every word.

‘Blaise, if you want me to understand what you’re saying you have to speak up,’ you said and you bumped your shoulder against Blaise’s. He looked up and smiled faintly at you, causing you to fill with worry. ‘What’s the matter?’

‘I wanted to ask you if you wanted to live with me,’ Blaise said and while his face was turned to you, his eyes weren’t looking at you—they were staring at a place above your shoulder.

‘Live with you?’ you asked and a big smile formed on your lips. ‘I’d love to!’

Blaise’s face filled with hope and he grinned at you. ‘Really?’

‘Are you kidding?! Of course I want to!’ you exclaimed and threw your arms around your friend. ‘Oh, Blaise, this is amazing! Just when I thought you couldn’t be a better friend!’ You got up from the couch and danced around the living room with your arms in the air.

Blaise was watching you with a smile from the sofa and you felt a weird twitch in your stomach under the stare of your friend. You lowered your arms and smiled happily at him. Leaning down, you pressed a kiss on the top of his head and spun around when you pulled back.

‘I gotta tell my parents!’ you exclaimed and ran out the of the living room, leaving the giddy Blaise alone on the sofa.

‘So? What about it?’ you asked, slapping Pansy’s hand away as she reached for your fries. She shot you a hurt look and let out a whine, as Daphne shook her head and moved her chair a little closer.

‘You said yourself that he was nervous. He is never nervous around you!’ she said and moved her finger in the air to emphasise her point. You took her finger and pushed her hand down to the table.

‘And? I’d be nervous to ask him to live with me too,’ you said.

‘Yeah, because you’re in love with him too,’ Pansy mumbled, but you ignored her.

‘You gotta come with better arguments than this,’ you said, though you felt your inside slowly turning to believe your friends.

‘Alright, how about the time you got stood up by Neil?’ Daphne said, leaning back in her chair as if she had already convinced you.

The restaurant was filling with happy couples as you sat at the bar, nursing the drink in front of you. With every time the door opened you turned your head, hoping that your date, Neil, would walk into the place. He was already forty-five minutes late, but you figured that it must be traffic.

You hadn’t missed the looks full of pity from the guy behind the bar and the waiters that were walking around the place but you wouldn’t give up yet. Already on your third drink, you sighed and took your phone, checking it for the umpteenth time to see if maybe Neil had sent you a text.

There were no texts from your date, but there was one from Blaise, asking how your date was going. It was a thing you always did, checking up on each other while you were on a date. It had started after you had been on a terribly boring date with some guy and you had texted Blaise halfway through, pleading him to call you with an emergency so you could ditch the guy. At your next date, Blaise had jokingly messaged you and ever since then it had grown to be a habit. He did it when you were on dates and you did it when he was on dates.

You knew Blaise was on a date too and that you probably just should text him that it was going great, but you didn’t want to lie to your friend.

It’s shit, he hasn’t shown up yet and the waiters are giving me piteous looks.

For a second you hesitated with your finger above the ‘send’-button, but as you made eyes with the man behind the bar, you pushed aside all your ego and hit send. You saw the message being sent from your phone, arrive at his and after a minute it was read by Blaise. He was typing for a second and his message back came.

Wait a minute

A sigh slipped from your lips and you dropped your phone on the bar, taking your drink in your hand instead. For a few minutes you waited for a response back from Blaise back, but when none came you figured he had forgotten about it and was having fun on his own date.

When you placed your empty glass back on the bar, the barman came over and silently asked you if he should refill.

‘No, I think I’ll head home,’ you said, failing to hide the disappointment in your tone. You jumped from the barstool and took your phone. As you reached for your purse to pay for your drinks, the door of the restaurant opened again and against your better judgement you looked up.

The last person you expected to enter walked into the place. Dumbfounded you stood up straight and stared at the person.

‘You’re still here! I am so sorry, darling, my boss wouldn’t let me get out of the meeting. You know what an ass he is.’

Blaise wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close, so to everyone around it looked like you were kissing. Instead, his lips were hovering over yours and you gulped at the sudden proximity. The cold from his hands sent a shiver down your spine and all the air was knocked out of your chest.

‘Play along to save your dignity,’ Blaise whispered and his lips almost touched you.

Without saying anything—afraid that all you would let out was a whimper—you nodded and Blaise let you go. He got his wallet from his pocket and paid the barman, flashing him a smile. As he turned back he placed his arm around your waist and pulled you with him.

‘Let’s go home, love. We’ll get dinner another time.’

Something about Blaise’s words put you back to your feet. You conjured a smile on your face and you glanced around the place as Blaise helped you into your coat. The waiters that had been looking at you with pity, now had looks of jealousy at the handsome man by your side. You couldn’t help but feel like you had proven them wrong and a genuine and slightly malicious smile came to your mouth.

With Blaise on your arm you walked outside, like nothing had happened at all.

‘Okay, what do you want to say with that?’ you asked as you were walking outside with Pansy and Daphne through a park, on your way back home.

‘He ditched his date to help you out!’ Daphne said and she shook her head as it was clear that you still had trouble believing her.

‘So?’

‘He. Ditched. His. Date. To. Spend. Time. With. You,’ Pansy articulated.

‘Any good friend would to that,’ you shrugged. Nonetheless, there was some part of you that actually started to believe that what your friends were saying could be true.

‘I love you very much, but I would not pass on a date because you got stood up,’ Pansy said. ‘Just because you have to pay for your own drinks once, I won’t ruin my chances to get some.’

‘Pansy, shut up,’ Daphne said and she nudged her shoulder with you. ‘Are you convinced yet?’

You didn’t want to give in to your friends so easily so you shook your head, making Pansy groan dramatically and Daphne’s eyes sparkle. She locked her arm with yours and smiled cheerfully.

‘Alright, this one you can’t deny: last Valentine.’

Valentine’s day was a stupid day, created by capitalist manufacturers to make more profit on their products, and had no meaning whatsoever. Who was Saint Valentine even? Just because some dude died on February 14th eighteen hundred years ago, everyone suddenly had to send each other cards and roses?

However, none of this made you feel any better about the fact that you were lying in bed surrounded by empty chocolate wrappings at nearly midnight. Your Valentine’s day had been without a date or secret admirer. Nothing—no card, no flowers. Just self-bought chocolates that hadn’t even tasted that good.

But maybe you could have gotten through all of that if Blaise hadn’t had a date. You knew that it was pathetic to think, yet you couldn’t help but wonder how much better this day would have been if you had been able to share it with your best friend.

Or with your crush.

It didn’t matter how you put it, everything sounded bad in your head. You knew that Blaise was just your friend, that he would never like you the way you liked him, but there were those hopes. Those damn wishes that you knew would never come true.

When the front door of the apartment opened, you—although you weren’t quite sure why—pushed all the empty wrappers from your bed and brushed a hand through your hair. Whatever made you do that was a mystery to you, but you thanked it when Blaise burst into your room.

The blouse that he was wearing was fully unbuttoned and even in the dark you didn’t miss his abs. You discarded the thoughts that came swimming into your mind quickly and looked at Blaise, expecting him to explain why he had come into your room.

Instead of an answer, Blaise walked over to your bed and let himself drop on it. He fell on your legs and you let out a whine, but he didn’t seem to hear it.

‘I take your date didn’t go well?’ you said, pulling your legs from under Blaise’s body. He crawled further on the bed and rested his head near your cross-legged legs. You patted his head comfortably and saw a little smile on his face.

‘You’re amazing,’ Blaise blurted out and by the double tongue you heard he was drunk. ‘Did you know that?’ He got up and sat on his knees in front of you. ‘You’re like an angel! So sweet and beautiful…’

Blood rushed to your cheeks and you shook your head. Although he was drunk, it did feel good to hear someone say those things about you. It was Valentine’s day after all.

‘Such an innocent angel and yet I can’t help wanting to do all those bad things to you,’ Blaise continued, a rasp laced through his deep voice and he brought his face so close you could taste the alcohol from his breath.

You gulped and your heart stopped beating for a moment, only to go thrice as fast as normal after. Your throat was dry as a desert and as much as you wanted to say something, you couldn’t.

Blaise had meanwhile brought his face so close your noses were touching. His breath stroke over your lips and he smirked as he looked at them. Your hands were clasped around the sheets around you and you didn’t dare to move.

‘I won’t,’ Blaise then rasped. ‘I want to, but I won’t.’ He leaned back and you took a deep breath, refilling your empty longs with air.

‘You should go to sleep,’ you stammered, even though your inside burned with curiosity.

‘Yeah, I should,’ Blaise said and, completely different to what you had thought to happen, he took off his clothes and crawled under your sheets. As he lied on his back, he looked up to you and gave you a cocky smile. ‘Well, shouldn’t you sleep too?’

For a moment you stared at the almost completely naked boy in your bed, until his dark eyes convinced you to lie down too. Awkwardly you shifted to the side of your bed to give Blaise some space, but before you had even fully closed your eyes, he had wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you against his chest. His strong arms held you in place and you couldn’t move even if you wanted to.

Blaise’s breathing soon calmed down and he fell asleep, but you couldn’t catch sleep. You felt his heartbeat on your skin and tried to focus on his breathing so you would calm down, but just when you thought you were drifting off to sleep, Blaise’s hand travelled down your body until it rested on your hip and he, in his sleep, pressed his body even closer to yours.

‘If that doesn’t convince you, you’re just crazy.’

‘No… I’m not crazy,’ you said, your voice barely louder than a whisper.

‘We convinced you?’ Pansy said and she stopped walking. You turned around to her and nodded insecurely. ‘We’ve convinced you!’

‘But how? When? Why? How?’ you asked, giving your two friends a desperate look.

Pansy threw her arm around your shoulder and led you to an empty bench. Daphne sat down on your other side and she took your hand, giving a nod to Pansy. ‘I think it is time.’

‘It is time? For what?’ you asked, looking between your two friends.

‘Time for the plan,’ Pansy said.

‘What plan?’

‘Just listen…’

-=-=-=-=-

It was the afternoon of the wedding; you would leave in ten minutes. Time had flown by the past two months. Now you knew Blaise liked you back, everything had changed in the dynamic between the two of you. It took great effort not to give in and just kiss him when he was lying on the couch late at night or to place your hands on his chest when he came out of the shower. But you had to wait. Only for a few more minutes now.

You were standing in front of your mirror, looking at the dress Pansy and Daphne had given to you. The dress was part one of the plan that your friends had come up with and that they had been drilling into you for the past two months.

If you were honest, you liked the dress. It wasn’t something that you would usually go with, but Pansy and Daphne had good taste—you had to give them that. The light green colour of the dress matched perfectly with your skintone. Tight were it accentuated your curves and just revealing enough to make people wonder. With the high black heels you were a few centimetres taller, though Blaise was still bigger than you.

Your hair was tied up, bringing the attention to your shoulders and bare back. The thin straps of the dress rolled over your skin as you brought up your arms to put the final touches to your make-up. That wasn’t much different from any other day; you didn’t want to be like a completely different person all of a sudden.

Around your neck was the necklace that Blaise had given you for your last birthday. You could still feel how his fingers had stroked on the back of your neck when he had put on the piece of jewellery that day.

‘Are you almost-’

Blaise walked into your room but stopped talking as soon as he saw you. His eyes widened and he gulped visibly. With your sweetest smile you turned around to him and giggled at his baffled face. He seemed to recollect himself quickly, but you saw there was still a faint lingering in his eyes.

However, you weren’t done yet. You walked closer to Blaise, with the same innocent smile on your lips and when you were in front of him you turned around, showing him the open back of your dress.

‘Would you do me?’ you asked and although you could not see Blaise, you heard he sucked in his breath.

‘What?’

‘Would you do me up?’ you asked again and Blaise let out a quivering breath. His hot breath on your skin caused the blood to rush to your cheeks and you were lucky Blaise couldn’t see your face.

Blaise’s fingers started at the top of the dress and they ran down the zipper, until they had reached the bottom. He placed one hand carefully on the top of your bum while the other pulled up the zipper slowly. His movements were slow and your breath hitched in your throat at the burning feeling on your skin.

The hands stayed in their position a second longer than was necessary and you could not help the smile that formed on your lips. Once again you had to hold yourself back, even though all you wanted right now was for Blaise to unzip your dress again.

The moment had caused the air in the room to grow thick and you had to swallow away the lump in your throat before you turned around to Blaise and smiled at him.

‘Ready?’

-=-=-=-=-

The hotel where the wedding would be was beautiful. Although you knew that Blaise’s mother had the fair share of her ex-husbands’ wealth, she never failed to amaze you with what she spent her money on. Whether it was lunch at one of the fanciest restaurants of the city or expensive gifts for Blaise’s birthday. Everything she did had to show how wealthy she was.

Just like the wedding. As you walked into the lobby of the hotel you were astonished by the beauty of it. It was like taking a step into the world you knew you would never fit in. Marble floors, glass all around, the biggest flower ornaments. All the people around you were dressed up in fancy clothes and in your dress you felt out of place between the women with jackets and shawls.

Blaise seemed to notice your discomfort and he placed his arm around your shoulder, taking you with him following the direction from a sign that told where the wedding was. You walked through hallways with high ceilings and chandeliers and passed rooms with golden frames around the doors.

‘This place is beautiful,’ you said and Blaise hummed in agreement. ‘Maybe we can have our wedding here.’

Blaise’s head snapped to your side and his arm dropped from your shoulder. For a second he stared at you, shock and curiosity radiating from his entire body, until you flashed him a grin and he relaxed. He let out a chuckle and cleared his throat, while looking away.

‘It was just a joke, Blaise,’ you said, bumping your shoulder against his. ‘But nice to know where you’re at.’

‘No, that’s not- I didn’t mean that I wouldn’t- You just-’

‘Relax, relax. I am just messing with you,’ you giggled as Blaise was rubbing his neck while looking for the right words. You pulled his arm down and took his hand, dragging him into the room where the ceremony would be.

There was a handful of guests already, chatting to each other with a glass of champagne in their hands. Upon entering the room, a man in a dark grey smoking approached you and Blaise with a tray with glasses and program booklets. You let go of Blaise’s hand and took one of each, while Blaise only took a glass.

‘Could I show you to your seats?’ the man asked, lowering the tray and when you nodded, he pulled out a little paper from his chest pocket.

‘Blaise Zabini and plus one,’ Blaise mumbled and the man nodded.

His eyes slid over the paper, scanning the floor plan, until he found Blaise’s name. ‘Ah, Blaise Zabini, I see. Right there, fourth row, third and fourth on the left.’

Something in Blaise’s stance changed and the grip on his glass got a little tighter. His shoulders broadened and he straightened his back, but he managed to conjure up a polite smile. He followed the man’s direction and walked away, his steps a little harder than usual.

You flashed the man a smile before you ran after Blaise who was standing at the end of the fourth row with chairs. Carefully you placed your hand on his shoulder and the harsh look on his face changed when he saw you. You smiled softly at him and he huffed and shook his head.

‘Let’s sit down,’ you suggested. ‘Unless you want to talk to anyone, of course.’

Blaise raised his eyebrow at you, while you took place on a chair and he snorted laughingly when he saw you were joking. He sat down next to you and leaned back in his chair, resting his calf on his other leg. ‘Believe me, there is no one here that I’d rather talk to than you.’

Looking around to distract yourself from the stupid grin Blaise was giving you, you patted his thigh. ‘I wish I could say the same, but that guy over there is definitely checking me out,’ you said, feeling the smirk grow on your face.

Blaise’s head snapped around to look who you were talking about, but there was no one behind him. ‘What guy?’

‘Why? Are you jealous?’ you asked, raising your brow at Blaise. He was still looking around, his eyes scanning the room suspiciously, before they settled on you.

‘No, I’m not jealous,’ Blaise said, throwing his arm over the back of your chair, his fingers brushing your shoulder in doing so. ‘I was just curious.’

‘If you say so, sweetie,’ you said pretending you were already focusing on something else, but actually looking at Blaise from the corner of your eye as you opened the program and looked at it. He was looking at you with a strange look in his eyes, but he said nothing. A smile fought its way on your lips and you hid it by clearing your throat and reading the program booklet in your hand.

The ceremony would start at five and the reception would at half six. There was a little free time between the ceremony and reception for the bride and groom to make the pictures and refresh themselves before dinner would start. What the guests would do at that time was up to themselves but the reception hall would open and there was an open bar, so you figured you and Blaise would find a way to entertain yourself.

Slowly the space began to fill with more people. You knew exactly none of them and even Blaise didn’t know a lot, but he could provide gossip on some. You learned that the bald man in the second row was the brother of one of Blaise’s mother’s first husbands, with whom she had always kept in touch for whatever may be the reason. The woman in the seat behind you used to be his mother’s best friend, but she had slept with her third husband. The two children on the right side of the chairs, were supposedly the groom’s children, but that was never confirmed.

When all the guests had taken their place in their assigned seats, the groom and his best man walked into the room. The groom was a tall man with a shiny bald head, that reflected the light from the candles along the aisle he walked down. He was wearing an azure blue three-piece suit with a baby pink tie and puff pocket. He looked fit, a lot better than the previous husbands you had seen. And you had seen your fair share.

After the groom and best man had taken their place, the guests stood up when the music started to play and the door at the beginning of the aisle opened. Blaise’s mother stepped into the room and all eyes were focused on her.

She was wearing a beaded tight fit with a low neckline and small straps. Her hair was half put up and there were little crystals in there that glittered when she moved her head. Around her neck hung a big necklace with glistening clear crystals that matched with her earrings. Even those who had no sense of fashion could see that a lot of effort had been put in the look.

Blaise had stiffened up next to you and he was staring at his mother as she walked by without noticing her son. He sighed as he sat down again, while his mother took place at the altar and the ceremony began.

‘At least she looks happy,’ you whispered, taking Blaise’s hand and offering him a reassuring smile.

He intertwined his fingers with yours and gave your hand a squeeze, one that was a little too hard for someone who didn’t need comfort. There was a smile on his face, but his eyes stood sombre as he watched his mother getting married again.

‘She does…’

-=-=-=-=-

The room for the reception was loud and filled with people that neither you nor Blaise wanted to talk to. Together you sat on a little sofa in the corner of the room, legs pressed together, as you sipped your drink and watched the other guests. So far, no one had tried to talk to you and although you were glad they didn’t—for they did not seem your type of people—it did feel a bit strange. Blaise was the bride’s son after all.

Your feet were already beginning to hurt and you regretted wearing the high heels. The reception was approaching its end and dinner would be in just a while, but you couldn’t wait to sit on a chair that was more comfortable than the low lounge sofa you were sitting on now.

From your purse you could hear the sound of your phone and when you took it out of there, you saw Pansy was calling you. Flashing Blaise an excusing smile, you lifted yourself from the couch and stumbled to the restroom.

‘Pansy, thank god,’ you groaned as you closed the door behind you and after making sure there was no one else in the room, you kicked off your heels. ‘This wedding is awful! Blaise’s mother hasn’t even come looking for him. I’m not even sure she knows he is here.’

‘Yeah, yeah, who cares?’ Pansy said rushed. ‘But how is the plan going?’

‘I don’t know,’ you sighed. ‘My feet hurt from your stupid heels and it doesn’t seem like he is about to budge any moment. Maybe the plan’s not that go-’

‘You better think again before you finish that sentence!’ Pansy cut you short and you chuckled. ‘Believe me, at the end of the night he will be putty in your hands. Just make sure to execute every part of the plan! Now, do you remember what to do at dinner?’

‘Of course I know. Pansy you have been drilling me for the last two months,’ you said as the door of the restroom opened and a woman came walking in. ‘Look, I gotta go. I’ll keep you updated.’

‘Okay, have fun!’ Pansy said and you said goodbye while you stepped into your heels again, getting ready to go back to the reception room again.

As you walked back to the couch where you had left Blaise, you noticed he was talking to someone. And when you came closer you noticed it was no other than his mother he was talking to. She had changed her wedding dress for a shorter white cocktail dress, showing off her legs in her high white heels.

Discomfort could be read from Blaise’s face and you tried to make your way over to him as quickly as you could, but halfway you were stopped by a girl that had had plenty of drinks already. She grabbed you by your arm and stopped you.

‘Hi!’ she exclaimed and the penetrating scent of her alcoholic breath made you almost gag. ‘Do I know you from somewhere? I feel like I know you from somewhere!’

You smiled politely at the girl and tried to free your arm from her grip but she kept holding you. ‘I so feel like I know you! Did we ever, y’know, do something?’

‘Okay, honey,’ you started, stopping her before she could say more. ‘We need to get you sobered up!’

You glanced over your shoulder at Blaise who was still taking with his mother and tried to get his attention. After some attempts he caught your movements and he visibly relaxed when he saw you were asking for him to come help you. He said goodbye to his mother and rapidly made his way over to you.

‘You’re my saviour,’ he said, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. You tried to ignore the fire in your stomach and turned to the girl in front of you. She was still holding your arm, but she was now looking at Blaise.

‘Is he your boyfriend? He’s hot!’ she whispered to you, her eyes wide.

Blaise cleared his throat to deny the girl’s question, but you were quicker and nudged him in his side. ‘He is, isn’t he? Lucky me, huh? Come on, let’s get you a water or something.’

You wrapped your arm over the girl’s shoulder and took her with you to the bar, sending Blaise a smile over your shoulder as he followed. He had a slight baffled look on his face and the corners of his eyes only lifted a little when you smiled at him.

-=-=-=-=-

‘That was a nice thing you did for that girl,’ Blaise said over dinner. He was leaning his elbow on the table, turned away from the person next to him at the table, and was looking at you while you waited for dinner.

‘Ah, you learn what to do after a few drunk girls in the club-bathroom,’ you said waving off the comment. ‘Sorry I couldn’t come help you escape from your mother earlier.’

‘Don’t worry about it,’ Blaise said, flashing you a smile that made your cheeks heat up. ‘You came right on time.’

Before you could say anything else, the waiters came with the food and your attention was taken by your plate. You had made sure you had ordered something else than Blaise, so you could without suspicion steal food from his plate. It was a simple yet effective move, all courtesy to Pansy and Daphne’s plan.

‘How’s are the asparagus?’ you asked innocent, after Blaise had taken a few bites.

He shrugged. ‘They’re alright.’

Without a warning you pricked your fork in one of the asparagus on Blaise’s plate and took a bite out of it.

‘Hey!’ Blaise cried out and he grabbed your wrist, preventing you from taking another bite. ‘Why’d you do that for? You have your own food!’

‘Yeah, but I don’t have asparagus,’ you shrugged as a smirk played on your lips.

Blaise’s grip loosened a little and you tried to bring the fork back to your mouth for another bite, but he tightened his hand and held your arm in place. You could feel your heartbeat accelerate and you were sure that Blaise could feel your pulse too. Swallowing deeply you looked up at Blaise, who was watching you with slightly furrowed brows. You bit your lip and Blaise let go suddenly, reaching for his glass of wine and taking a big sip.

A content smile spread on your mouth and you took another bite of the asparagus on your fork, turning back but keeping an eye on Blaise. He was staring at his plate and shook his head before he turned to you, giving you his usual grin.

During the rest of the dinner there was an easy conversation between you and Blaise. Once you tried to start a conversation with the people at the table, but after a few questions on your side they fell silent and you gave up. Not that you really wanted to talk with them, you were having more than enough fun with Blaise alone.

After dinner it was time for the bride and groom’s first dance. As the DJ asked everyone to gather around the dancefloor to watch the dance and so the waiters could clean the tables, you drank the last of your wine and pulled a reluctant Blaise from his chair to where everyone was gathering. Pushing past a few people you got to the edge of the dancefloor where Blaise’s mother and her new husband were standing in the middle, their arms wrapped around the other. The music started and a slow song played.

Letting go of Blaise’s hand you wrapped it around his waist and lay your head on his shoulder. A rush of butterflies shot through your stomach when, without saying anything, Blaise wrapped his own arm around your shoulder. His fingers stroked the bare skin of your upper arm slowly.

They were a beautiful couple, but you, just as Blaise, could feel there was something off. You had seen his mother’s previous husbands and boyfriends and although this man seemed genuine in his attractions there was something that didn’t fit. Something about the scene didn’t feel right to you and when the music got louder, you realised Blaise felt the same because his movements stocked and he took a little step back.

You turned your head to look at him, letting your arm fall from his waist. He gave you an apologetic look and shook his head lightly, before he stepped away and disappeared in the mass of people.

Quickly, you ran after him, pushing the people that were in your way aside. Only now you noticed how many people were actually at the wedding, as it took you a while to get through the rows of guests that were watching the first dance. When you finally stepped into the clear space, you saw Blaise leave the room and you followed him swiftly.

In the corridor to the lobby of the hotel you caught up with Blaise. He had taken off his jacket already and was struggling with his tie when you ran into him. A frustrated sigh came from his lips when his hand slipped from the tie and you quickly stepped forward, pushing away his hands and taking his tie instead.

‘Are you alright?’ you asked softly, not feeling the need to talk loud because you did not want people to hear you and also because you were standing very close to him. You loosened his tie a little and rested your hands on his chest for a while as he tried to find the words to say. His heart was beating fast; you could feel it through his shirt. When you looked at him, he swallowed deeply and you took a step back.

‘It just… it doesn’t feel right! I have seen this all before, you know? With all the guys before this one—it was the exact same. She gets sick of them after a year and then she meets someone new and the whole cycle starts over. I mean, good for her that she enjoys herself and everything, but I am sick of being involved in her shit. I don’t want to go to another wedding, visit another birthday party or housewarming.’ Blaise sighed and he dropped his head to his chest. ‘I know it is selfish, but I can’t help thinking it.’

You stepped closer to Blaise again and lifted his head with your index finger, forcing him to look at you. ‘It is not selfish. Actually I was thinking the same,’ you said and Blaise looked surprised. ‘I don’t think it is fair that you have to go through all of this. You deserve to be happy just as much as she does, love.’

Blaise smiled at you and he nodded slowly. You took his hand and tilted your head to the side. ‘Now, we could go home or stay here and get the money out of that open bar. Your choice.’

Blaise laughed and he brought your hand to his face, pressing a quick kiss to it before pulling you back to the wedding. ‘Well, when you put it like that…’

-=-=-=-=-

The music was loud and the bass thrummed in your chest. The lights around the dancefloor changed the colour of the wedding hall in all the shades of the rainbow. On the ceiling hung a disco ball and it reflected the lights to all over the place.

Screaming along to the lyrics of your favourite song, you threw your hands in the air and moved your body to the beat of the music. There was a big smile on your face and Blaise laughed at you as you danced.

The smile on your face turned into a smirk as you heard Pansy’s voice in the back of your head, encouraging you to get closer. But, just as you were planning to make your move, someone patted on your shoulder. You turned around and were faced with a guy you hadn’t seen before.

The man had dirty blonde long hair, gelled back on his head, and his forehead shone with sweat. When he opened his mouth you were met with the scent of alcohol and you stumbled back, right into Blaise’s arms. He held his hand on your hips.

‘Care to dance, lovely?’ the man asked, flashing you a smooth smile.

Blaise’s fingers dug into your hips and you got hypersensitive of the closeness between the two of you. An awkward smile painted your lips as you shook your head at the stranger. ‘I’m sorry,’ you said. ‘I’m already here with someone.’

The guy nodded understandingly and he headed off again, disappearing in the dancing people. You laughed relieved and turned around to Blaise, while his hands stayed on your hips. He seemed to be contemplating something and after a silence said: ‘You can go dance with him if you want to.’

‘Are you kidding?’ you laughed, searching Blaise’s face for a trace of joke.

‘No, I’m just saying—I would understand if you want to…’

Finally making the move you wanted before, you placed your arms around Blaise’s neck and pulled your body closer against his. You brought your face close to Blaise’s, so there were only a few centimetres between your noses. ‘This, right here, is where I’m meant to be. Now shut up and dance with me!’

Blaise’s eyes darkened for a bit and the grip on your hips got stronger. His hands moved along as you swayed your hips and a smile played on his lips as he finally gave in and danced with you. Not once did he break the eye contact with you and you drowned in his dark eyes. The bass of the music was lost in your body as your heartbeat accelerated and it got so heavy you felt it throughout your entire body.

A fire was spread through your inside, coming from the hands on your hips. You didn’t know what music was playing anymore or who was around you, where you were. It could have just been Blaise and you in an empty room.

Your eyes were glued to his, fearing the magic would break if you lost eye contact. All the stars in the sky could not compare to the sparkles that you saw in Blaise’s eyes as he looked at you. A warm, strange feeling rose low in your stomach the longer you looked at Blaise.

The air around you was delicate and filled with electricity. But so delicate that it was broken immediately when someone bumped into you. You were almost knocked off your feet but Blaise caught you.

A nervous chuckle escaped your mouth when Blaise put you back to your own feet. A quick glance around the room was enough to see that a few people were leaving already and as another guest bumped into you, you turned to Blaise.

‘Let’s go,’ he said, understanding your look. ‘I’ve had enough of this.’

-=-=-=-=-

The streets were cold and empty this late at night and a chill ran down your spine as the wind blew over your bare arms. You rubbed your arms as you felt the goose bumps forming on your skin. Blaise was quick to notice you were cold and he took off his jacket, draping it over your shoulders.

‘I told you to bring a coat,’ he said as his hands lingered on your shoulders.

‘And miss the opportunity to wear yours? No thanks,’ you shot back, an innocent smile on your face.

‘So you planned for this to happen?’ Blaise joked and you felt your cheeks grow hotter.

A silence fell and you stared at your feet while you walked. They had been hurting all day now and you feared your toes would be dead when you’d finally arrive home. To make things worse, the street you were walking in went upwards. With every step the bottom of your feet started to burn more to the point where you had to stop for a moment.

‘Hold on,’ you muttered, grabbing Blaise’s arm to stop him. You clung onto him as you lifted one foot, moaning in relieve as the pressure was taken off it.

‘What’s wrong?’ Blaise asked a little worried, giving you one hand to lean on while the other steadied your back.

‘It’s the stupid shoes,’ you said, now lifting your other foot. ‘They hurt like hell.’

You groaned again as you put your foot back on the ground, but quickly put a fake smile on your face when you noticed Blaise’s worried look. You managed a little step but with the next one you couldn’t help the painful whimper. Blaise rolled his eyes at you and held your hand back, preventing you from taking more steps.

‘Come on, get on my back,’ he said, stepping in front of you.

Not needing to hear that a second time, you jumped on Blaise’s back and wrapped your arms around his neck. He placed his big hands under your thighs and proceeded to walk.

It wasn’t far to your apartment anymore and within fifteen minutes you turned the corner of your street. As much as you didn’t want to, you patted Blaise’s shoulder, letting him know that you would walk the final few metres. He lowered and you stepped of his back, pulling your dress, that had crept up high on your thighs, back down, not failing to miss the look Blaise shot at your legs.

The final steps to the apartment building you made in silence, holding onto Blaise’s hand. Without really realising it you had intertwined your fingers. Not letting go of your hand, Blaise opened the door of the building and he stepped in with you into the dark.

You eyed the stairs for a second before you stepped towards the elevator. There was no way that you would walk the stairs with so much pain in your feet. However, when you wanted to press the button, your eyes fell on a paper with ‘out of order’ on the door of the elevator.

‘You’ve got to be kidding,’ you whined and threw your head back in your neck.

‘Okay, drama queen,’ Blaise said and he at last let go of your hand. ‘I’m only doing this because you’re in pain!’ He placed one arm behind your back and the other in the crook of your knees and he swept you off your feet. You squealed and immediately wrapped your arms around Blaise’s neck, almost bumping your heads together.

With you in his arms, Blaise walked up the stairs and even went so far as walk to the door of your apartment, where he finally put you down to get his keys from his pocket. There was a loaded silence as you stepped into the dark apartment, stumbling into the living room with Blaise behind you.

You kicked off your heels and moaned relieved as you dropped down on the couch. Blaise chuckled lightly as he stood in the doorway behind you. You turned around to him, moving to sit on your knees, and looked at him. There was an expression on his face that you couldn’t really place.

Averting your eyes you played with the hem of your dress. You had hoped that whatever was about to happen had already happened because right now you didn’t really know what to say. So far everything had been included in Pansy and Daphne’s plan but they hadn’t prepared you for this part. Now it was all up to you and you knew that if you didn’t say something right now, you would lose your chance.

‘Blaise-’ you started but you were stopped when Blaise walked towards you and pressed his lips on yours.

A gasp came from you and your eyes widened at the sudden move. There was an explosion of butterflies in your body and electricity shot through your veins. Before you could do anything, Blaise had already let go of you and he was stumbling back.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, avoiding your eyes and taking a deep breath. ‘I just—I’ve liked you for a long time and after tonight I thought that maybe-’

‘I know,’ you interrupted and Blaise looked up to you in surprise. ‘Pansy and Daphne told me two months ago and they helped me to crack you tonight.’

‘Crack me? What do you mean?’

‘I mean that I like you too,’ you said with a smile and walked over to Blaise, pulling him closer by the collar of his shirt. Your face was only mere centimetres away from his, his hot breath on your skin. Your lips were hovering over his, the smirk on them growing with the second.

Blaise’s eyes darkened at your closeness and he placed his hands on your lower back, pulling your body against his. You raised your eyebrow at him, your fingers toying with the button on his collar. A groan came from the back of Blaise’s throat as you didn’t move any closer to him, keeping the little space between your lips.

‘Kiss me, you idiot,’ he breathed, closing the space between the two of you.

The electricity that you had felt at the first kiss was nothing compared to the fire that started in your body at this one. Your skin grew hot as it ached for you to be closer, to feel more. Your lips were on fire and you knew right at that moment that nothing could ever be so addicting as Blaise’s kiss.

Blaise’s hands travelled down your body, slipping under your dress. His fingertips created electric shocks on your skin and a thousand tingles shot through your body on the places he touched you.

You wanted him closer. You wanted more. Never leaving his lips, you unbuttoned his shirt and loosened his tie. Your hands got familiar to his chest as you traced the lines of his muscles, feeling like you could shoot flames from your fingers. Blaise’s skin felt warm under your touch, growing hotter the longer you were in his touch.

When you finally pulled apart you were breathing heavily. You stared into the dark eyes that made you forget all your troubles. Blaise’s thumb stroke the smile on your face and you hummed happily.

‘I think I’m in love with you,’ he whispered, never breaking eye contact with you.

You nodded and brought your face close once again, letting out a quivering breath before you spoke. Lips brushing over each other and noses bumping together softly, you spoke in a whisper.

‘Good, because so am I.’

- - - - - - -

general HP taglist: @harry-pottery-barn @missmulti @kingalrdy @missswriter @figlia--della--luna @aspiringsloth20 @awritingtree @bi-andready-tocry @lilulo-12fanfiction @ananad1 @treestarrrrrrrr @your-hispanichufflepuff @thefandomplace

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#sleep-i-ness500 #blaise zabini x reader #blaise zabini imagine #blaise zabini #blaise #blaise imagine #harry potter imagine #harry potter x reader #harry potter #hp

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spenciegoob · 3 years ago

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Atom Bomb (Blurb)

A/N: look, i try to write angst where everyone stays alive... but, well, you see...

Summary: Girl it’s you that I lie with as the atom bomb locks in.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Angst!

Content Warnings: death of major characters (are we shocked), end of the world/doomsday

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Word Count: 1K

___

The morning always felt like the only time my brain, and the world around me quieted down to a gentle hum. The people weren’t whisked away from the comforts of their homes yet. They had more time to live in that silence for a little while longer before moving on to their routine days. But the streets quieted down at night too.

It was my brain that got the memo by morning.

People always tell me they wish they could remember everything, and I knew their comments were made lightheartedly. The true meaning behind their words came from never forgetting the grocery list even if you had left the written copy at home, or how much you owe in taxes. I could do all those things, yes, and a small portion of my life had benefited from that.

But the parts that didn’t? That’s the part of my brain that is most active at night. If there was the ability to relive some of the worst nightmares that made your reality, I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy. Yet, people still told me they were jealous I had to.

Not her, though. It wasn’t necessarily pity that she showed me when I told her what makes my mind so “great.” It was more of an understanding that there were awful images tattooed to the inside of my eyelids, and no way to remove them. When I explained my job to her for the first time, she did not ask me of serial killers, or dead bodies. She asked me if I could tell her what she was thinking.

One would think she was excited about me being able to read body language, but when I told her that I could read her mind because I was actually a magician, there is no other way to explain besides an exponential amount of joy and curiosity.

She made the mornings quieter in fact, but as she woke up along with me, and her body stiffened against my own ridgid form, I knew this morning was different.

The world around us caught on, the sounds of bumper to bumper traffic of people rushing not to the menial things they’ve done before, but to loved ones, and unfinished business. Angry teenagers protested down the street, yelling for the last time about the cruel world. It was a nice thought, but no rally could stop today.

The world screamed, fought as the final day began. My plans were different.

“Hey,” she whispered, turning over to squint up at me through the sunlight pouring in from the window. The universe gave her the spotlight she deserved one last time.

“Hi, my love.” She gave me a lazy smile as she reached up to stroke my cheek with her palm, pressing her palm against me. Her eyes were threatening to close, but she fought to keep them open.

“You’re so beautiful.” The words themselves weren't what caught me off guard, I was having the same thoughts about her. The reason for my surprise at her whispered finalization of affection towards me was because for a second, I believed it would be okay before the explosion.

The world was ending, but I had her to hold as it did.

“As are you.” Kisses shared in the morning light had never felt so much like a goodbye than right now.

I wasn’t quite sure the time when we finally got up from under the covers, we had already promised each other to get rid of all clocks. If we pretended we had all the time in the world, maybe the end wouldn’t be so bad. It was foolish in nature, but ignorance is bliss, and with the acceptance of doomsday came the realization that there was never a sufficient amount of time for us to spend together. We wanted eternity, the universe granted us 6 years.

“Are you scared?” She asked me, and truthfully, I was. I was scared for the world as we know it, and the outcome from this act of human greed. I was quite terrified, really, but that was not what she was asking me beyond those three words. I know what she really wanted to say, and that changed my answer.

“No, my love.” I knew when the bombs locked in, and were set to end humanity that I would still find her on the other side. She was my heaven, staying in her arms and never having to let go. Running my fingers through her hair, and squeezing her hand three times in the elevator. Kissing her forehead when she lays across my chest, and humming songs of my affection against her neck. Listening to her read aloud to me, and painting each other with peppering kisses. Giggling at funny faces in the mirror, and grasping onto the other in the night.

She was my final resting place, so no. I was not afraid of ever having to let go.

“I love you.” She grabbed my face and pulled me in for a bruising kiss one last time, and the world went quiet again. All that truly mattered was the girl I had pushed against me, tokening every moment we shared together as I did the same.

“I love you, too.” The sirens could barely be heard beyond our four little walls. Her eyes looked up at me with a pleading desperation to never let go, and tears gathered to finalize our goodbyes.

We couldn’t say the words however, even with the notion that tagging along ‘for now’ would bring us comfort during the transition into finding each other again.

That was okay, because without saying it, we both knew neither of us would stop for anything when searching for the other one more time.

___

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cacoetheswriting · 4 years ago

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champagne problems, epilogue

Epilogue: Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You Baby: The beginning of the end. A/N: chapter is titled after this song if you want to listen while reading. Word Count: 1.3k Warnings: brief mentions of alcohol consumptions, other than that just a big ball of FLUFF !

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A/N: holy shit, this is the end!!! i had so much fun writing this little series, but it wouldn't have been the same without all of you reading, so seriously thank you! now, if anyone on the story taglist would like to be moved to my general spencer reid taglist just let me know, other than that i hope you enjoy this very last chapter!

Ever since you were little, you dreamt of your wedding day.

The elegant white dress you would wear, the way you’d style your hair, how your dream venue would look, the perfect guest list, the flowers, the track list, and of course, your husband to be.

You imagined he’d be handsome, a prince to accompany your dream of becoming a princess. You imagined he’d be smart, trustworthy, courageous, and caring. You imagined he’d be funny, make you laugh even when you didn’t want to smile. You imagined he’d be a great listener and have a heart of gold. And you imagined he would always put you first, no matter what.

Dr. Spencer Reid, your husband, was everything you imagined and so much more.

“I believe it was Paulo Coelho who once said, Love is just a word. Until someone comes along and gives it meaning.” All eyes were on Rossi, who with a glass of champagne in the air was delivering a speech he swore he hadn't prepared prior to this moment, “Now, when Y/N and Spencer broke the news and told the team they were finally tying the knot, I personally couldn't have been more thrilled.”

Everyone nodded along to his words as he continued, “And I think I speak for everyone gathered here today when I say these two are made for each other.”

Rossi glanced between the tables until his gaze finally landed on you and the brunette doctor beside you. “To the bride and groom. Cheers!”

“Cheers!” The gathered crowd erupted simultaneously, and what followed was the loud clinking of glasses.

You turned to face Spencer. The hazel-eyed man was already looking at you, a warm smile circling his lips.

“Cheers, my husband.” You lifted your champagne flute a little higher, as he chuckled lightly before following suit, “Cheers, my wife.” Without breaking eye contact, the two of you chinked your glasses together and took a sip of the bubbling liquid.

The evening slowly turned into night. Dozens of tiny fairy lights illuminated the venue, accompanied by the shimmering hue of the disco ball in the middle of the dance floor. Not a single body was sitting down. Everyone swayed to the music, rejoicing in the love which was so clearly floating in the air.

Spencer had his arms wrapped around you, the palms of his hands resting on your lower back. Your arms were around his neck, tips of your fingers tangling in the ends of his soft curls.

The song currently playing was quite fast, but neither of you were particularly keen on the comforting embrace ending - even though you had the rest of your lives to hold each other.

Next to the two of you, on your left, Emily and Tara were jumping around to the beat of the music, while JJ filmed them. Rossi and Will observed the spectacle with drinks in hand and loudly cheered the ladies on. On your right, Penelope was engaged in a dance battle with Derek - one she was undoubtedly winning. Matt, Kristy, and Savannah watched the pair in fits of laughter. And all of the kids ran circles around the gathered group, playing a game of tag with Luke.

“What’s on your mind?” Spencer questioned quietly, after noticing the look of contemplation gracing your features.

“Hmm... I’m just trying to remember the last time we were all together, and this... carefree.” You replied, meeting the ever so welcoming hazel gaze of your husband.

Spencer smiled softly at your response. “Well, we’re here now.” He simply stated, and you couldn't help but playfully roll your eyes.

“You know what doctor, for an extremely outspoken man, and one who seemingly possesses more knowledge than all of us here tonight, you can be very cryptic sometimes.”

“I have to keep a few things to myself, otherwise you'd loose interest in me.” He joked with a chuckle.

The comment earned him another eye roll. You moved one hand from behind his neck and lifted it in between you, curling all fingers inwards apart from the ring finger. His gaze travelled to the notion and the grin on his face widened, because he knew what you were about to say.

“I’m stuck with you now, forever and ever and ever, whether I loose interest or not.” You teased. Spencer’s hand found yours and he brought the finger to his mouth, before pressing a soft kiss to the ring.

“I wouldn't dream of being stuck with anyone else.” Spencer proclaimed, and proceeded to attach his lips to yours in a blissful exchange of breaths. The kiss was short and sweet. Similar to many you’ve shared before, yet different at the same time. Better almost, because he was no longer just Dr. Spencer Reid, he was your Dr. Spencer Reid, and you were now Mrs. Reid.

“I love you, my husband.” You muttered against his lips after pulling away. He smiled, “And I love you, my wife.”

Spencer spun you around once, causing a light giggle to escape you, before he pecked your lips again.

“May I steal her for a moment?” It was Luke who asked, appearing beside the two of you almost out of breath.

“The kids really wore you out, huh?” You teased as Luke smirked, “Oh definitely! Which is why I’d like a dance with the lovely bride so I can compose myself.” He extended his arm and you linked yours with ease.

Shooting Spencer a smile, you disappeared into the crowd with Luke. The doctor watched you for a moment, once again wondering how the hell he got so lucky, when his thoughts were interrupted by a clearing of the throat. He turned his head to find your dad also looking in your direction.

“She’s beautiful, isn't she?” Your dad asked.

“Extremely.” Spencer whispered back, loud enough for Anthony to hear.

The older gentleman shifted in his position, facing Spencer completely. “Thank you.” Anthony stated and extended his arms to wrap them tightly around Spencer. “Thank you for keeping an eye on her, son.”

“I’ll continue to do so for the rest of my life. Nothing’s gonna hurt her ever again, sir” Spencer replied, before quickly correcting himself, “Anthony.”

The older man chuckled lightly as he pulled away. He straightened his tie and proceeded to place his hands on Spencer’s shoulders. “I’ve wanted to say this for quite some time now.” He paused briefly. “Call me dad, son.”

The unexpected request caused the smile on Spencer's face to widen ever so slightly. He didn’t waste time to nod his head in agreement and with one last hand shake, he observed Anthony make his way through the bodies and steal you from Luke for a dance of his own.

Spencer’s heart soared as he watched you sway to the music. In this moment, he was glad he had an eidetic memory that would allow him to remember this sight forever. How filled with joy you seemed, and how ethereal you looked in your white wedding dress under thousands of fairy lights.

Your eyes locked with his amid the celebrating crowd. Amid the off-key singing and crazy dancing. Amid the drinking and loud cheering. Amid every single person that was currently partying between you and Spencer. When his hazel gaze found yours, it felt as if there was no-one else present.

And you were suddenly filled with immense gratitude for everything that has happened since you met the handsome doctor. Grateful for every single step which lead to this very this very moment. Grateful for him, for Spencer.

Your husband.

Today was like any other day.

You woke up at your usual time to the sound of your alarm. You had coffee, and a quick bite to eat while aimlessly scrolling through the social media apps on your phone. You showered, brushed your teeth, got dressed, did your makeup. And when it was time to leave, you walked out the front door locking it behind you, hopped in your car, and drove to work.

Today was like any other day. Except that it wasn’t.

Today wasn’t like any other day because while you carried out all of your menial morning tasks, you felt a great deal happier. Because you weren't doing them alone, and with Spencer by your side, you won't ever have to again.

You finally found your happily ever after.

A/N: from the bottom of my heart thank you for your continuous support and going on this journey with me. with love, mal. x

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story taglist: @girloncorneliastreet, @haylaansmi, @rexorangecouny, @l0ve-0f-my-life, @obsssedwithjustaboutanything, @aperrywilliams, @sassy-hades, @rainsong01, @reverdevivre, @dracomikaelson, @softieekayy, @lunaofcrows, @andrewhoezierbyrne, @blameitonthenight21, @lyl-26, @do-yr-research, @nazifa94, @stepsofthefbi, @chatterbug2-0, @calm-and-doctor, @halseysunset, @ellesgreenaway, @chipot-lol,

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#champagne problems series #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid series #spencer reid story #spencer reid songfic #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #dr spencer reid x reader

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ramblingsekai · 3 years ago

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So I’ve had an AU idea that I’ve been sitting on for awhile. I’ve tried writing a few drafts for it, but I always ended up deleting the post bc I could never quite get what I wanted. But I wanted to pose a question of, what if you had taken the left path instead of the right? Or as I’ll call this AU, the Left Path AU.

I only really have like ideas for this AU for 3 groups: MMJ, VBS, and 25ji. I know I know, my bias is showing, but they’re the ones I know the best. So here’s Part 1 of the Left Path AU. (I was originally gonna do all the groups but the 25ji one is just getting so long I have to divide it again).

Anyways, with 25ji, I want to see the possibility, what if Kanade had gone to school instead of being homeschooled? Kanade’s grandma convinces her that she has to go to normal school so that she can get some social skills as well as trying to make sure Kanade lives a somewhat normal life (spoiler she does not). Honami still checks up on her as a housekeeper though bc let’s face it, Kanade is a mess. And this path further divides bc I’m conflicted on whether if Kanade would go to Miya or Kamiyama. I think she would go to Kamiyama since I think Miya is a private girls school which costs more money and idk how much money Kanade’s grandma has since she’s paying for Kanade’s living conditions and her dad’s hospital bills probably.

Kamiyama route: so Kanade would probably be a 2nd year at the start of the story. She wouldn’t probably talk to her classmates much so she’s labelled a loner. Idk if people would think she’s a jerk like they did with Shiho but I’d guess that people would just leave her alone. I think Kanade would also go to school consistently. Maybe not all the time, but more than Mizuki at least. She doesn’t seem to neglect her studies while being homeschooled so I think that Kanade would go enough times to be an alright student and makes sure to study enough to get good grades. But she would absolutely be writing notes about songs and other things during class and outside of class at school. (takes place 1st year b4 story) Rui might find her interesting since I think that Kanade would work on her music at school too when she has time and he hears it one day and tries to talk to her after noticing her demeanor. He sees the look in her eyes (similar to Mizuki’s back then) and probably tries to be nice to her, make sure she’s not too lonely, etc. At first Kanade would try to brush him off, but I think that she’d eventually open up to him after she sees he’s not trying to be mean and is trying to be helpful. On the other hand, I think it’d be interesting if Kanade disliked Tsukasa at first (and then this would change post main story with Tsukasa eventually apologizing to Kanade after Rui tells him why Kanade avoids him). Kanade wouldn’t try to keep her musical abilities a secret so Tsukasa hears her singing and the songs she’s working on. Tsukasa would be amazed at her musical ability (and jealous maybe at her natural talents) and try to get her to help him. The thing is, this is pre-character development Tsukasa so he’s asking all of this from a purely selfish perspective and tries to do this just to elevate himself. At this point of time as well, I think Kanade is already working with Mafuyu/Yuki so Kanade would probably reject the notion since she doesn’t need anything he has really (music-wise I mean) and I think Kanade would notice after all that Tsukasa is doing all this for himself. Their interests wouldn’t align (she wants to save people w/ her music vs he wants to be THE star). So Tsukasa would basically try to hound Kanade and Kanade keeps avoiding him. By the second year, she’s gotten good at it. Also by this year we get the other Kamiyama students we know. I don’t think she’d interact much with Akito/Toya/Nene. With An, I think that she notices how An is actually able to stand up to Tsukasa and Rui as a disciplinary committee member so maybe she just talks to An and tattles about Tsukasa every once in awhile. Or maybe she hears An singing one day and the passion in it. So they talk about music, give advice to each other about singing, and so on. An has shown that she is actually pretty considerate and observant so she tends to seek out Kanade as well bc she wants to try to cheer up Kanade and help her out somewhat. And then Mizuki. I’m not completely sure if Kanade had recruited Ena and Mizuki, but I’m gonna assume that by the time Mizuki arrives at Kamiyama, they’re all together already. So maybe bc of Rui, maybe Mizuki hears about this loner girl who is good at music and they end up bumping into each other at some point. And then Mizuki recognizes Kanade’s voice and realizes she’s K. So they end up talking more and being friendly. At first, Mizuki tries to distance herself from K bc they are scared of Kanade’s reaction to the rumors about them, but I think Kanade would sit Mizuki down and tell them that the rumors don’t matter and that they’ll always be friends. So the ultimate change would be the closer friendship between Kanade and Mizuki since Kanade would know about Mizuki’s secret. Maybe Mizuki shows up to school more now that they know they have a close friend in Kanade. Maybe Kanade opens up more to Mizuki. (I think this all gradually happens and even extends to past the main story and to events). Now I know, Ena also goes to Kamiyama, but she never really shows up during the day bc of her night classes, so I don’t think Ena would find out about Kanade earlier than the normal story. The thing I wonder about is if Ena and Mizuki’s relationship also change as a result of Mizuki’s closeness to Kanade since Mizuki may not feel as scared around Ena finding out about Mizuki’s secret if Kanade already knows. So I think Kanade/Ena/Mizuki might end up closer as a result of this path, but I wonder about Mafuyu. I have no idea. I think things would ultimately remain the same with Mafuyu, but maybe at some point she ends up feeling envy(?) bc of the closeness btwn the other 3, which would later get addressed and they all assure her that she’s just as important. So this then leads to the other path.

Miya: what if Kanade goes to Miya? Kanade’s grandma splurges and decides to try to get Kanade to a good school so she can excel. Who knows, maybe Miya would have a good music program or club or something so that Kanade can join that maybe. I say maybe bc I have no idea if Kanade would bother to do that. She’d honestly just be a loner again, but I think that bc Miya is a private school (more expensive) she’d skip classes less since I think Kanade would feel guilty if she did since her grandma paid more for her to be there. She’d be a second year ofc, but the biggest change would be her relationship with Mafuyu. Assuming that Kanade and Mafuyu are the same year, I think that eventually they would encounter each other. I think they met online sometime after the start of their first year so that probably still happens. But after they do start working together some more, I think that they would eventually recognize each other’s voices. Maybe Kanade notices Mafuyu’s voice first since Kanade is probably a loner who doesn’t talk much and one day she goes up to Mafuyu and asks “Yuki?”. Now this would catch Mafuyu really off guard since only one person would know that name and then after hearing Kanade say that she would realize that K is standing in front of her. At first I think that they wouldn’t interact much after realizing they go to the same school, but Mafuyu ends up noticing Kanade more and more after realizing who she is. Kanade would be the complete opposite of Mafuyu and Mafuyu realizes this. But I think after awhile, Mafuyu just ends up gravitating towards Kanade after seeing how lonely Kanade is. Kanade realizes that she’s seeing Mafuyu more and more and well they just end up close. Now I don’t think Kanade realizes that Mafuyu is faking her smiles until the main story happens, but I do think that Kanade opens up to Mafuyu earlier and reveals her past. Mafuyu sees the despair and other emotions in Kanade and maybe starts subconsciously bonding with her more afterwards since she knows that Kanade is similar to her. And after the main story, they get closer. Mafuyu starts dropping the mask around Kanade more and Kanade pays attention to Mafuyu more closely. Maybe tries to swoop in to help when she notices Mafuyu is getting pressured to help by students and teachers. Kanade I guess just being around more for Mafuyu so that she can be herself more often. Maybe Kanade even tags along to Mafuyu’s archery practice every once in awhile to see how Mafuyu is doing and just observing her mindset. Also bc it would cause her to interact with Shizuku somewhat. Another thing is that after they reach their 2nd year, Kanade also probably hangs out with Honami sometimes. Eventually after the main story for L/n, Honami introduces her to the rest of L/n and they bond over music too. And Ichika gets to meet Kanade sooner which is also a plus. But yeah, I guess the biggest change would be that Mafuyu and Kanade end up closer since they get to hang around each other more often.

The ultimate idea with this AU, is also just that Kanade would have more opportunities to interact with her peers and live out her teenage years. At Kamiyama, she ends up helping out at the school festival and talking to her classmates. At Miya, she’d try helping out at the sports festival but would probably end up more in a cheerleader role. It’s just kind of sad to me that Kanade’s teenage years are her ultimately staying cooped up in her house. Plus there’d be more group interactions since the schools are the prime places for that. Anyways, thanks for reading! What are your thoughts? Am I way off base on some stuff?

I’ll get to the other groups too at some point. Note, with MMJ and VBS, they’ll be kinda sad. I started off with 25ji bc this was the one AU idea with positive change since 25ji are really dark already. So instead of doing an angst route, I made a lighter route for them. Bc god do they need something to help for once. With MMJ and VBS, I think that I will also have crossover with the og timeline. So basically the original characters seeing/reacting to what happens in the AU since I think that would be more interesting. Kind of I guess like a Christmas Carol scenario, where the groups end up seeing another possibility and appreciating what they have now. With 25ji we can already imagine what a more depressing scenario would be and we don’t need that and I wouldn’t feel comfortable writing that. And honestly if I had OG 25ji reacting to this AU version of themselves, it’d be even more depressing for them since I made happier-ish versions of themselves. So yeah that’s the idea I have for how I’ll portray the other 2 groups. However, that’s all I’m revealing. I’ll let you guys think about which group member from each group will be the ones who took the left path.

#project sekai #project sekai rambles #25 ji night code de #nightcord at 25:00 #left path au #me making another au #but this is more of a 'what if' scenario #kanade yoisaki

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