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nadvs · 1 day ago

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escapism .* part one

pairing rafe cameron x socialite! female reader

rating explicit 18+

summary you live a turbulent life in the public eye as an unruly heiress from a controlling family. you thought you had your future all planned out, until you learn that your trust fund hinges on marrying a stranger.

tags arranged marriage au. canon divergence. reader is bratty and volatile. rafe is the calmer one for once (but not by much). they hate each other at first. six-year age gap. plot contains alcohol abuse, toxic family dynamics, chronic illness, trauma bonding, mentions of death, and smut that starts off as hate-sex oops!

» masterlist

author’s note i typically make reader inserts vague for relatability, but this is the most detailed one i’ve written. she’s misunderstood, guarded, and has a short fuse. she has trauma from childhood neglect and lives with a chronic illness, resulting in poor coping mechanisms and a desire to feel free. i enjoyed exploring a fmc like this and i hope you enjoy the read just as much <3

Rafe sits in the backseat, fingers grazing the edge of his jaw. The wrought-iron gate creaks open to reveal a long, manicured drive that curves out of sight, the estate lingering beyond the bend.

His loyalty to his father knows no limits. It’s why he agreed to go along with this ridiculous publicity stunt.

Yesterday, Ward told him about the unusual proposal one of his business partners made. Kal is the powerful patriarch of a high-profile family and apparently, now that his wife is entering politics, his family’s reputation has never been more important.

The only thing standing in their way to a respectable image is their daughter.

Rafe thumbed through every tabloid he could find last night. The headlines followed the same formula, all about a spoiled, wild socialite, the epitome of old money royalty, getting wasted at parties, dating around, and never backing down from any sort of altercation.

Kal had promised that with his corporate influence, this arrangement would give Cameron Development an edge it’s never had before.

And Rafe is determined to pull it off. He wants to make his dad proud. He’s been working for him for a few years now, eager to prove himself and move up the ranks.

This is an unorthodox way to do it, but he’ll take what he can get. And he might even like you. You seem like you have some charm to you to say the least, even if it is centered in chaos.

The driver pulls up to the front doors of your family’s home right on time for the meeting. When a butler welcomes Rafe into the foyer, every footstep and shuffle of clothes echoes through the manor’s enormous, gleaming frame.

The butler rushes away to fetch Kal. Rafe stuffs his hands in his pockets and takes in the vacuous, characterless space. His eyes land on a thick-framed image hanging between two rounded staircases.

He squints, sizing up the five figures. It’s not a photo, but a painting of the family that calls this place home.

He studies it from afar, already having committed your face to memory from all the research he did on his phone last night, eyes travelling over the brushstrokes of an older couple, two men, and his future wife.

Wife.

This is insane.

“Great to meet you,” Kal’s voice booms through the foyer. He crosses the room, offering a tight handshake.

Rafe follows him to his office. He expected you to be here, but the only other person in the brightly lit room is an older woman typing on a laptop. Kal introduces her as Celeste, the family’s publicist.

The door shuts and Kal settles in his place behind his desk, tearing right into business before Rafe even takes his seat.

“I know this is unconventional,” he says, “but Nora is announcing her intention to run for public office in two days, and it’ll be a rigorous campaign.”

Celeste nods with widened eyes, gaze still glued on her screen.

“I’m sure your father has told you that we need all the good press we can get,” he continues. “I don’t know how familiar you are with my daughter, but she isn’t the representation we want for our family.”

He clasps his hands together.

“And before we bring her in, there is something I need you to do.”

Rafe waits, tense.

“She’s unpredictable and secretive. It leads to bad surprises and even worse press,” he says. “I need to know her plans, her activities, absolutely everything you can find out. Can you keep me informed without her knowing?”

Rafe imagines his father’s expectant stare, the one he’s sure he’ll be wearing when he asks him how this meeting went. The familiar ache to impress him radiates through him, a desire he’s shouldered all his life.

He still remembers the look on Ward's face when he told him about his plans to go back to college, long after he’d dropped out as a freshman. It was the first time he seemed convinced that his son was turning his life around, that earning a solid education wasn't just another stint Rafe would give up on.

With enough time and effort, finally, Rafe had a shred of his father's approval. He graduated and now, at thirty, he’s back on track to take over Cameron Development. The job had practically been lined up for him since birth and he'd nearly squandered it through his rocky adolescence, a trainwreck in response to losing his mother.

He refuses to fuck anything else up. He crawled his way out of the hole he’d once been in and he has no intention of falling back into it. He won’t stop for anything.

“I can do that,” he agrees.

Kal nods, then presses a call button on his desk, instructing the butler to bring you in. As the air fills with silence, the suspicion that you haven’t even been told about the arrangement yet gnaws at Rafe.

“Does she know about any of this?” he asks, a slightly disbelieving chuckle spilling from his lips.

“She’s about to,” your father says.

▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱

Your eyes follow the words in your textbook as you type on your laptop, music softly buzzing from your speakers. The house is always so quiet, forcing you to listen to your own thoughts.

You need the noise. Any distraction.

You’re in your last few months of working towards a master’s degree in business, taking advantage of the schooling you have access to, all in an effort to prove yourself and be set up for success for when you can finally leave this place in the rearview.

Most of your life has been a waiting game, and you’re in the homestretch to getting your trust fund. All you need to do is make it to your next birthday. You can’t survive without that money. Your medical expenses are too high.

The dream of walking out the front door and never stepping foot in this house again consumes you. You long to be your own person, away from the gossip rags, free from your family’s restrictions.

You’re not proud that you don’t have the self-restraint to quietly wait out your time. You’re driven by anger, by the pull of escapism, constantly getting out of control with your drinking.

But it's too addictive and the spiteful side of you enjoys knowing you’re a PR nightmare, publicly embarrassing the people who gave you your last name.

A month ago, as a result of your mother’s sudden interest in politics, you’ve been put under harsh restrictions to avoid any and every risk of unfavorable press. You were ordered to give back your credit card and live at home instead of on campus, with no access to transportation unless a driver has been appointed to take you somewhere.

You’ve still found ways to rebel, sneaking out to see friends, partying to numb your pain. Your parents try to keep you under control because they care about public perception. About notoriety. Not you.

You learned long ago that you’re just a thorn in the family’s side.

Knuckles tap on your bedroom door. You stand and swing it open to meet Mathieu’s tired eyes.

“You’re needed in your father’s office, miss,” the butler says.

“You know my name, Mathieu,” you say with a gentle smile. “I can’t. I’m in the middle of an assignment.”

“He said your attendance is required, miss.”

He winces, correcting himself for calling you that again, saying your name instead. You’ve seen your father’s staff on edge all your life. He runs a tight ship, and it’s one you’ve wanted to jump off of for a long time.

Because of that, you have a soft spot for the people who work in your home. At least they’re nice to you. Even though it’s their job to be.

You agree, simply because you don’t want Mathieu to have to deal with the collateral damage of your father being told no.

▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱

Three heads turn towards you when you enter the office.

You meet your father’s eyes immediately, clenching your fists at your sides because, like always, being in the same room as him triggers an onslaught of anger through you.

“What is it?” you say curtly.

“Have a seat,” Kal says, his voice clipped.

“I’m busy,” you answer.

“Sit.”

Rafe’s gaze follows you as you cross the room and settle in the chair next to him. There’s a sudden heat in his chest, a frustration in how he can’t pull his eyes off of you.

The photos he saw online, the painting in the foyer, they do you no justice. You’re stunning, radiating confidence, moving like you expect the world to get out of the way for you.

Maybe liking you won’t take much pretending after all.

“You know Celeste,” your father says.

You return her pointed frown. You didn’t mind her at first, but then, she realized she could get away with ridiculing you, safe from any of your family members coming to your defence.

Once she knew that her job was secure, she’s passively jeered at you many times, calling your antics fodder for the rags, calling you shameful and childish.

“And this is Rafe.”

Your eyes flitter towards the stranger. You’re in awe of how near impossible it is not to melt under his gaze, his eyes piercing, every plane of his face strong and refined.

You didn’t know what you were expecting coming in here, but it wasn’t him, staring like he’s waiting for you to do something.

“Hi,” you say stiffly, then look at your father. “What do you want?”

“You’ve been an embarrassment,” Kal says.

You remain perfectly still, no stranger to your father scolding you no matter who’s in the room.

“You’re kidding,” you say, your tone flat and sardonic. “What is it this time?”

Rafe gathered that you’re difficult, and he’s no saint himself, having had many disputes with his own dad, but he always had the sense to argue behind closed doors. He didn’t expect you to be so bratty from the get-go, so openly abrasive towards someone you’re supposed to respect.

“We can’t have you causing any trouble,” he says. You sigh, feeling Rafe’s gaze on you. He must be the latest bodyguard your father’s hiring, yet another man you’ll drive to quit his job. “I refuse to let my wife’s campaign be ruined.”

“Wait, so, if she loses, it’s my fault?” you breathe a laugh.

Your mother’s step into politics is just another line on the list of her meaningless ventures. It reeks of boredom masked as ambition; a move made only because she can afford the luxury of trying everything once.

“I’ve had the conditions to your inheritance amended,” Kal says.

Rafe watches your smugness fade away, your brows pinch together.

“What?” you say. The cockiness you wore has slipped, nothing but unease in your features now, as if the existence of your trust fund was the only thing granting you any sense of poise. “What do you mean?”

“You’re tarnishing our reputation,” he says. “I’m not allowing you to continue to drag our name through the mud. Your brothers have set good examples. It’s time you do the same. If you don’t, your inheritance is void.”

“No,” you say. “The terms are that I get access to it when I turn 25. You can’t just change that.”

“Yes, I can,” Kal says. “The new conditions–”

“This is all because Mom decided she wants her name on people’s lawns?” you interrupt with a humorless laugh, straightening in your seat. “You’re insane.”

Rafe catches on that you call her your mom, while your father refers to her as his wife.

“It’s important to her,” Kal says evenly.

“Sure,” you say in a huff. “Whatever. Fine. I’ll be good.”

Rafe would laugh if this wasn’t so awkward. He wants to get the hell out of here. It’s bullshit that this isn’t already all settled. But when he thinks about his dad, who’d told him how important his cooperation in this is, he doesn’t budge.

“You think I can believe you?” Kal asks. “You need to convince the public you’ve grown up. Represent us well for once. You won’t have access to your trust unless you get married.”

“Married?” you echo.

Kal’s eyes dart to Rafe.

“Rafe has already agreed to pose as your husband.”

“What?!” you half-shout, glaring at Rafe. “Are you serious?”

Your father sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Either have your tantrum and lose your trust,” he mutters, “or agree. Everything’s already in place.”

“We have appearances scheduled and an engagement announcement and a wedding in the works,” Celeste pipes up. “All you have to do is show up. And behave.”

Dread sinks into you slowly, wretchedly. Everything’s already in place. And you’re just the pawn expected to go along with this.

Your heartbeat thumps in your ears, any safety you felt when you entered this room erased. Your trust fund is your ticket out of here. Now, that ticket is being torn to shreds right in front of you.

“How long would I have to go along with this?” you say, blinking.

“Until the end of the election cycle,” he says.

“About six months,” Celeste clarifies. “And we can’t risk faking it. Marriage licenses are public records. It’d take one diligent reporter to blow everything. It will be real. And quietly annulled afterwards, of course.”

Half a year of pretending you’re fond of the stranger sitting next to you, of acting like you’ve suddenly been tamed because you fell in love, with your trust fund hanging in the balance. This has to be a bad dream, a nightmare you’re having up in your bedroom.

“Why a marriage?” you breathe.

“Cameron Development is a distinguished company,” Kal says. “They’re respected by our community, and our families publicly joining will benefit their bottom line and our reputation.”

“A wedding is a great photo op,” Celeste adds. “And an opportunity to invite everyone with influence. It’ll help with polling, too.”

You stare down at your lap. This is unhinged. Your hunger for an upper hand, for some kind of rebuttal, twists in your core. You refuse to just stomach this.

You do have some power here. You know how bad it’ll make your father look if you outright defy him and leave everyone in the lurch. He cares about his reputation way too much.

This is how all your communication with your parents goes. It’s a battle. A struggle for control.

“I have terms,” you say, an imperceptible tremble in your voice.

“This isn’t a negotiation,” your father responds.

“Actually, it is,” you say, staring at him. “If you don’t level with me, I’ll leak things to the press that would never redeem this family. I’ll do so much damage that you can never fix it.”

Rafe is floored by your viciousness, by the way you have no loyalty to the people who raised you. Now he can see why your father had to go to such extreme measures.

“Your inheritance will be gone,” Kal states.

“And Mom will lose,” you threaten. “And we’ll all be left with nothing.”

Your father’s silence is enough for you to know he’s backed into a corner, waiting to hear your demands.

“I can move out immediately,” you state. “I get my credit card and my car back. And the second this is over, I get full access to my trust fund.”

You lean forward, your rage deafening. You reach for the quiet thread of strength buried deep inside you, grasping it the way you always have, even as a child.

“I’ll follow the rules,” you say. “I’ll go to every event, pretend I want to be there, and stay out of trouble. I’ll go along with this only if you agree.”

Kal sucks his teeth, frustrated, but left with no choice but to comply.

“Fine. You’ll do everything Celeste says, do you understand?”

“And you can’t tell a soul,” Celeste explains to you. “One leak could ruin everything.”

She pulls out two stapled stacks of paper, neatly placing them on the desk in front of you and Rafe. The words at the top are heavy and bolded: Confidential Marital Agreement.

Another chill floods your system. You’re being controlled in yet another way, jammed under your parents’ thumbs, all while everyone else is acting like this is completely normal.

“You need to convince everyone that this is real,” Celeste emphasizes. “The public has to believe that you’ve grown up and had a complete change of heart.”

“Yeah, I got it,” you mutter.

You look at Rafe again, this time with nothing but disgust. You regret having thought anything good about the man who’s helping your father humiliate you like this.

“But don’t expect me to be civil about it in private,” you say to Rafe, rising from your seat, swiping the contract in a tight grip. “You’re an asshole for doing this.”

You storm out, itching to punch something.

▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱

You sit in the front study of your home as the smooth, plastic clamp squeezes your forefinger. Iris notes the numbers on the small monitor.

You know the order of the tests, how each one feels, how the fifteen-minute appointment is bookended by the worst part. It’s a cycle you go through with your nurse every month.

After a string of respiratory infections as a child, you were diagnosed with a chronic lung disease. Your treatment plan calls for frequent check-ups, aggressive medication, and an inhaler on you at all times.

It’s apparently genetic, and why your lungs won’t work right while your two older brothers breathe easy in every way is a constant, twisted reminder of your place in your family.

All you know is the feeling of limitation, of being near suffocation. In every possible way.

“Time for the worst part,” Iris says. You pull up your sleeve, giving her access to the inside of your elbow.

She sanitizes your skin and you make a fist, staring out the window into your family’s enormous, manicured backyard, a sliver of the sea visible behind the trees lining the back of the estate.

The prick of the needle makes you wince, and she apologizes, and you tell her it’s not her fault, just like every other time. You usually make conversation with her, but you’ve been in a daze since the ambush in your father’s office this morning.

“How’s Milo?” you finally ask.

“Good,” she says proudly. “He made the basketball team.”

You can only imagine the excitement her fourteen-year-old must have felt.

You wish you were a better person, that you could just be happy for others, but your chest pinches in jealousy. You fear your envy will always remain a wound, a flaw in your character you can’t rid yourself of.

And you know how out of touch it is to be jealous when you were born with a silver spoon in your mouth, but there are some things money can’t buy, like a parent’s love, like the freedom to play a sport without worrying your lungs will give out, and the emptiness rooted in your soul is proof of that.

“That’s amazing,” you tell her. “Can I get him anything?”

“Absolutely not,” she quips, gently pulling out the needle. “You’ve spoiled him enough.”

You smirk. Your track record for spoiling her son started the day she became your nurse over five years ago. There’s satisfaction in spending money this way - not for show, but for joy, for the quiet delight of a little boy and his mother who never ask for anything.

“How are you, sweetheart?” She puts a cap on the tube, putting away the blood sample and shutting her case. “You’re quiet today.”

You look away and think of Rafe’s heavy gaze, of the edges of his face, of how you didn’t even hear him speak.

It’s absurd that you’re expected to pretend he’s someone you fell into a whirlwind romance with, a man whose voice you don’t even know, a man who conspired with your father to degrade you, to rip away your free will.

You’ll have to deceive everyone, even the people you care about. And it makes you feel rotten.

“I’m fine,” you lie.

▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱

Rafe likes to think that he’s improved over the years. He’s not as helpless against his own temper, not giving into impulse every opportunity he gets, not as reckless as he was when he was younger.

He’s better. Not perfect, but better. Yet when you called him an asshole yesterday, it’s the closest he’s come to snapping in a long time.

You’re beautiful, but you’re a nightmare.

He didn’t think it would be like this. Yesterday caught him off guard. It left him speechless, and nothing leaves him speechless, but the weight of what’s at stake hit hard. One wrong move, and everything, his career, his future, could start to crack.

He didn’t know you’d be threatened into this arrangement. But putting your trust fund on the line was obviously necessary if you’re this unwilling to stay out of trouble.

He’s not looking forward to dealing with you.

You enter one of the spare offices in your home, the scowl on your face hard as you settle at the desk next to Rafe, across from Celeste.

“Hello,” Celeste says. “How are you?”

“Don’t pretend like you care,” you murmur. You’ve been dreading this meeting since you were told about it just last night. “Just get on with it.”

Celeste’s brows inch up in irritation, but her shrug tells you that you’re right. She slides two pages across the desk, housing identical color-coded calendars.

“This is how everything will play out,” she explains. “You’ll pretend to meet for the very first time at the investor gala on Thursday night, where Nora will announce that she’s running for office. You’ll be seated next to each other.”

It’s been so long since you were last seen with your family that you can’t even picture it. Back when skipping out wasn’t an option, you were dragged along to countless events, ordered to pretend like everything behind the scenes wasn’t fraying at the edges.

It makes your stomach turn, thinking of sitting with your parents and older brothers, subject to their vitriol.

“And then, you two will fall so in love,” she says, the sarcasm in her tone thick, “that you’re constantly spotted together. You’ll get engaged two months in, and have a beautiful, quaint summer wedding three months later.”

“God,” you sigh in frustration, sick just thinking about what a stupid farce this is going to be. You hate that you have no say, that you’ve always been smothered by what other people want, that you’re just a puppet on a string.

“You’ll need to look the part,” Celeste says flatly, her eyes darting between you and Rafe. “Right now, you two couldn’t look more miserable.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t appreciate being called an asshole,” Rafe mutters, his gaze catching yours.

You scoff as his deep voice reverberates through you. It’s more cutting than you anticipated: cold, precise, aimed to dominate.

“I don’t appreciate you being an asshole,” you reply, your features strained in anger.

“I thought you knew the plan,” he says. “I came here yesterday thinking you were ready to do this.”

You still for a moment, the hatred you have for him almost dulling. Almost.

“You just assumed that?” you ask, eyes narrowed.

His hesitant glare makes it clear that he did.

“If you knew my dad, you’d know he’d never give a shit about who’s ready when he wants something done,” you scoff. “You should take the time to see who you’re working with instead of blindly kissing ass.”

The stab at his ambition, his pride, makes his blood boil.

“You don’t know shit about–”

“Please,” Celeste interjects, her palms up. “Can’t you be adults about this?”

“Can’t you admit that this is idiotic?” you say to her. “All for what? Good press?”

“You’ve made it clear that you don’t care about how you represent your family,” she says evenly. “But your actions affect them. And they affect the business that gives you the amazing life you live.”

“Amazing,” you echo with a snarl. “Give me a fucking break.”

Rafe grits his teeth. The tabloids are right. You’re nothing but an ungrateful princess, and you’re damn near unbearable to be around.

“Classy,” Celeste mumbles under her breath, handing you a small manilla envelope. “Let’s just get through this. Your credit card. You’ll notice the limit’s much lower than before.”

You sigh, taking it from her. She pulls out two envelopes next.

“And here are the keys to your condo,” she explains. “It’s confidential that you’re living together. Keep it that way. We’ll make it look like you moved in after the engagement.”

“What?” you snap. “What’s the point of us living together right away, then? When I said I wanted to move out, I didn’t mean with him.”

Celeste’s eyes flash to Rafe, the promise he made to Kal an unspoken secret between them. You can’t know Rafe has been tasked with keeping an eye on you.

“I just relay your father’s decisions,” she says. “You know that.”

You sneer. Of course he finds a way to only partially meet your demands, while ensuring your misery. You can’t believe you considered doing this. Nothing will be on your terms, not entirely. It’s how it’s always been.

“It’s a sizable penthouse,” she says. “You practically have your own wings. All you share is a kitchen.”

“And it’s not like I’ll be there much,” Rafe mutters. “Some of us work.”

This earns a snort from Celeste and a murderous look from you. He can usually keep this type of disdain in, especially in what’s technically a business meeting, but it’s like you undo all the work he did on himself.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket before you can ream him out. You check who’s calling, tilting the screen towards you, but Rafe sneaks a look at the contact name to see Family Law at the tailend.

“I have to take this,” you say, rushing out of the room.

▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱

When you come back into the office, you’re even angrier than you were when you left.

Your lawyer just confirmed over the phone that your father’s amendments were entirely fair, that he had failsafes set up in case he needed to make changes to the conditions of your inheritance.

You settle next to Rafe, listening to Celeste continue to drone on about how you’re expected to present yourselves as a couple in the public eye.

Every bit of you aches. You hate that you’ll have to pretend you’re fine being around your family, when all they do is hurt you.

You hate that you’ll have to fake happiness at Rafe’s side, a man who’s a prime example of the type of smug, heartless opportunist that you’ve been avoiding all your life.

You hate that yet again, you’re powerless.

There’s no getting out of this. Not unless you get Rafe to back out. It’s worth a try.

▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱

“That should cover everything,” Celeste says, concluding the meeting. “Contact me if you have questions, but if you follow the schedule, you’ll be fine. I’ll be in touch.”

She smooths down her skirt and collects her things.

“And I still need both of your signed contracts,” she says, but her eyes are fixed on you, the only person in this equation making things difficult.

Her heels click as she strides out of the office. You’re still in your seat, the lump in your chest refusing to dissipate.

You can’t allow your parents to weaponize your trust fund just to satisfy their own ruthless agendas, just to appease their malicious need for control.

And living with Rafe isn’t an option. If he witnessed your steady rotation of medical visits, it’d shatter your carefully maintained illusion. You’ve hidden your illness from everyone outside your family, even close friends and past boyfriends. Not out of shame, but survival.

The press would twist it into something ugly, weak, marketable. It’s the one thing you’ve managed to keep private, and you’re not about to hand Rafe and the press another piece of you to tear apart.

You can’t go through with this. You’re too consumed by the price you’d have to pay.

There’s always been a voice whispering to keep going, that the finish line is close. But another angrier one is so much louder, demanding to know what the point is if you leave your self-respect behind. Screaming at you that without dignity, you’ve already lost.

Rafe stands, adjusting the lapels of his jacket, rounding his seat to leave.

“Wait,” you say, your voice thin.

He stops, his hand on the back of his chair.

“What?” he says sharply.

You don’t make eye contact. You continue to stare ahead, settling into the realization that this is the first private moment you’re having with the man you’re expected to marry.

But he hasn’t signed his contract. There’s still time.

Rafe lingers. The fierce anger he’s seen in you has shuffled away, replaced by quiet tension.

“Do you really have to do this?” you say.

He gets the sense that you rebel against everything you’re told to do just for the sake of it. And he’s not a fool who’ll give in to you after all you’ve done is insult him. He can’t believe he thought he would like you.

“It’s just showing up to a few things,” he mutters, his grip tightening on the chair.

You stiffen, frustration etched into your face as you turn to look up at him.

“How do you not see how ridiculous this is?” you ask, your anger back in full force.

“I do,” he scoffs, “but it’s a smart move. It benefits everyone.”

You stand up to face him, crossing your arms. Anyone who calls something your father thought up as smart is an idiot in your book.

“Back out,” you say evenly.

He smirks. It’s satisfying, getting revenge on someone who’s done nothing but make digs at him, telling her no when she’s so used to getting her way.

“So, you don’t want that money?” he says, his tone teetering on mockery.

You groan, infuriated.

“What are you really gaining here?” you snap, your chin pointed up at him. “Is he paying you? Does he have something on you?”

If Rafe ever were to admit to someone just how badly he wants to impress his father, to prove his allegiance to him and the company, it wouldn’t be to you. Someone who would never get it, who has no sense of loyalty, who is so childishly spiteful.

“It’s just six months,” he replies curtly.

You’re desperate, willing to say anything to get him to refuse. Willing to beg as much as your pride will allow you to.

“Please,” you say. “If you refuse, they’ll respect it. They won’t respect me.”

He glares down at you. Of course they won’t respect you. You’re intolerable. You’re trying to sweeten him up, make him pity you, and it’s not working.

You stiffen under his stare, uncomfortable that you have to plead. He’s not giving in. You can tell by the coldness in his eyes.

“I’ll make your life hell if you do this,” you threaten. “Just six months will feel like an eternity.”

He dismisses you, stepping away with a condescending chuckle. But he wholeheartedly believes you.

(to be continued)

new parts of this series drop at 9 pm eastern on thursdays. my update account is @xorafe-library if you want post notifications.

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron and you #rafe cameron and reader #rafe cameron and y/n

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moonstruckme · 18 hours ago

Note

Im obsessed with how u write Remus and james! This is a weird request but can you write smt smutty but maybe the reader has an insecurity about her butt/legs 😭 so sorry but I feel like I always see some about smaller chest but what about the girls with smaller butts mannnnn

Thank you for requesting angel!

cw: not very smutty but mdni please, reader is insecure of her butt/thighs being smaller, some d/s dynamics sorry I'm uncurable

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

Things escalate quickly once you get into Remus’ room. You’re supposed to be…well, you know Remus’ invitation to come inside so he could lend you his book was in earnest. You were earnest, too, when you kissed him sweetly in the sitting room. It’s just that after that, you’d both found out at the same time that his flatmate wasn’t home, which has never happened when the two of you were at his before, and so perhaps it was a collaboration of mood and timing and coincidence that’s led to your current circumstances.

Your trousers and Remus’ shirt discarded on his floor. Tea left to cool in the sitting room. Heavy breaths and unquieted sounds in an empty apartment. Those circumstances.

“Come here,” Remus rasps, his hand splayed over the small of your back. Remus has large hands, with long fingers, and the span of them makes you feel safe. He kisses you urgently. “Come here.”

You laugh, breathless. “I’m here.”

The throaty, dissasifed sound which emanates from him makes you laugh more. You feel airy with it, fizzy, bubbling over. Remus moves his hand from your back to hook it under your knee, pulling your leg further across his hip. You’re lying facing each other on pillows that smell like him. It takes you a second to figure out what he wants.

When you do figure it out, rolling on top of him, you’re rewarded with a kiss so deep you half wonder what Remus is trying to draw out. If he’d only tell you, you’re sure you’d let him have it. You’d give him anything.

“You’re amazing,” he breathes. His fingers curl around the back of your neck, thumb stroking your jaw as he kisses up at you.

You feel amazing. You’ve never felt so beautiful, so desirable and cared for, as when Remus talks to you this way. You run a hand up his chest, feeling scars and muscle under your fingertips. You roll your hips over him.

Remus groans low and deep in his throat. His grip on your knee slips upward, pulling you closer. Short fingernails dig into your buttcheek.

You take in a stilted breath. Remus notices the difference.

He pulls away, his hand on your backside turning gentle. “Sorry,” he pants. “Did I hurt you?”

“No.” You shake your head, hard enough to dislodge something, hopefully. Your eyes close. “No, sorry.”

“You can tell me if I’m being too rough.” Remus rubs up and down the back of your thigh, slow, comforting. Something in your stomach knots tight.

You wish he would stop touching you there. It doesn’t feel like a fair thought to have when he’s being so kind. It’s not that you don’t like when Remus touches you, even, just that you wish he wouldn’t perceive that part of your body at all. Knowing he’s feeling it under his hand, you can’t help but narrow all your focus to that one area. It feels like the first time you’d brushed shoulders accidentally; sparks, except this time not in a nice way.

“I’m sorry.” Remus looks worried now. He can tell something’s the matter, just not what it is. “I should have asked.”

You shake your head. “No, I’m sorry.” You kiss him once in consolation before dropping your forehead to his shoulder with a sigh. “It’s not you.”

Remus is silent for a few moments, though his hand covers the back of your head. He pets your hair. “It’s alright if it’s me,” he murmurs eventually.

“No, it’s not you. It’s my bum.”

You feel ridiculous saying it aloud, and so you laugh, quiet and half nervously. Remus laughs with you, also quiet and entirely confused. “Pardon?”

“It feels weird to have you touch my bum, because it’s…well, I don’t have much of one, do I?”

“What? Yes, you do.”

“Remus, I’ve seen it.”

“So have I.” He keeps petting your head. His other hand, thankfully, has drifted up to rest on the small of your back. Even in disagreement, Remus cares to see you comfortable. “Lovely, I feel like there’s something I’m missing here. Is it the size of it that bothers you?”

You nod abashedly.

“How would you want it to look?”

“I don’t know. Different.”

Remus hums pensively. “You know that I don’t share that opinion, don’t you?”

“Yeah—I mean, I guess. It’s not like you’ve had a lot of time to form an opin—”

“No. Look at me,” he interrupts you, in a no-nonsense tone you’ve not heard from him before. It stills you. “Y/n, look at me.”

You do. Remus’ eyes are stern. “I think you are perfect,” he says.

You stare at him.

“Are you listening to me? You’re perfect. Every bit of you.”

“Okay,” you say after a moment, your mouth dry. “Sorry.”

Remus cups your face. His long thumb sweeps across your cheek. “I don’t want you to be sorry, sweetheart,” he tells you. “I want you to understand me. You can believe whatever you want about yourself; I can’t change that, even if I don’t like it. But I won’t have you believing that I think you’re anything other than beautiful.” He pauses, looking you in your eyes. “Do you understand?”

You nod.

“Use your words, please.”

“I understand.”

“Perfect.” He kisses the space between your brows. You shut your eyes into it, heart pulsing at the base of your throat. “Thank you.”

Slowly, giving you a chance to stop it, Remus’ hand slips over the curve of your spine again. His hand is large enough to engulf your buttcheek when he splays his fingers, and it doesn’t make you feel as self-conscious as you might have expected. You feel safe. It’s not sparks; it’s easy, it’s slipping into a warm bath, it’s being desirable and cared for. Remus holds your gaze, and you feel amazing.

“Is this alright?” he asks softly.

You nod. “Yeah.”

Remus doesn’t look smug, or self-congratulatory, but his eyes warm with a sort of pride as he pulls you down to meet his lips again. You think it’s for you.

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judesmoonbeauty · 2 days ago

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Fan translation only. Accuracy not 100%. Please expect grammatical errors. Creative liberties are taken. Cybird owns everything. Re-blogs are appreciated, but please do not post my translation elsewhere, claim them as your own, or use them without my permission. Thank you for your support! ☾.

We couldn’t catch a carriage after work, so we were walking down the street at night.

(The moon’s so pretty tonight…..)

Reflecting on the Thames, the moon is a perfectly round, soft, creamy color.

The cool night breeze paired with the lovely moon made me feel both refreshed, and my steps lighter.

Not long after, I was walking a step ahead of Jude.

Jude: Ain’t helpin’ ya if take a tumble.

Kate: Pff- Yes, I know.

Having said that, I know that if I really do fall, he’ll help me.

Jude: ……Kate.

Kate: Yeah? Oh!

When I turned at my name being called, something was suddenly tossed to me.

The character for “to thow” is used. However, it can also mean “to toss.” Given the distance from each other and the setting, I feel like toss is more appropriate than throw.

Kate: What’s with the random box?

Jude looked more serious than usual.

Jude: Just open it.

Sensing that something was out of the ordinary, I gingerly opened the box given to me, and found a silver ring inside—

Kate: Jude, what is this….

When I looked up in shock, he appeared exasperated.

Jude: Daft princess, dont’cha get what it means?

Kate: Huh?

Jude: Guess not. Yer a perverted masochist who doesn’t know when to quit, who keep’s comin’ at me, ‘n who’s so foolish it makes me wanna weep.

Kate: Why are you saying mean things about me?!

However, he was looking straight at me, so his insults didn’t even register.

Jude: But yer the only one I have.

The night breeze passes between us, leaving space for one person.

Jude: Ya didn’t ridicule my dream about goin’ to the moon, ‘n ya accepted us cursin’ each other.

Jude: Yer the only woman who can laugh like an idiot, ‘n keep her resolve.

The moonlight shone upon us like we were the only ones in the universe.

Jude: My mind’s been made up since the day I started goin’ steady with ya.

Jude: To give ya my last name. Marry me, Kate.

His words strike my heart, warming my entire being and causing tears to well up in my eyes.

While I was unable to contain my sobs any longer, Jude gave me the most gentle smile I’d ever seen.

Jude: S’what’s it gonna be, Kate.

I nodded repeatedly as I wiped away my tears.

Still, they start pouring again as I clutched the ring and cried out.

Kate: Please make me your wife, Jude!

He laughed at my weepy reply.

Jude: That’s damn fine answer.

He hugged me, smiled as he wiped away my tears and kissed me—

The morning after the happy proposal, I was taking a walk while staring at the engagement ring when Ellis appeared.

Ellis: Oh, that’s...

Kate: Oh, this is...

Ellis smiled before bringing up Jude.

The line literally reads, “Ellis smiled before speaking to Jude.” However, Jude isn’t present at the time as you’ll see in the line below, and he never directly speaks to Jude, so I opted to translate the line this way.

Ellis: Jude finally gave it to you. Congratulations, Kate.

Kate: ….Finally?

As I tilt my head, Ellis whispers.

Ellis: Jude’s been preparing to give you a ring for a long time now Kate.

Kate: What…..

In astonishment I try to look at the ring again, but a hand reaches out from behind and hugs me.

Jude: The hell ya blabberin’ on about.

When Jude appeared, Ellis grinned and silently waved his hand as he walked away.

(So he’s been getting this ready for a long time….)

Jude: What’cha smilin’ fer?

Kate: Heh…..

As I smiled at the surprising fact I just learned, he grabbed my cheeks and forced me to look up.

His amethyst eyes were annoyed, but still looked at me lovingly.

(Yeah….I’m so hopelessly in love with this guy.)

I wanted to tell him just how much I love him.

Kate: Jude, I love you.

Kate: I’ll love you forever.

In both lines, Kate uses “大好き” (Daisuki), which means to “like very much.” It is holds a lot of affection, and is more commonly used to express love.

He blinked in surprise at my declaration and then instantly changed his expression.

Jude: I love you.

Jude uses the kanji “愛” (Ai). If you don’t know this is a HUGE thing to say….especially for him. It also means "I love you", but it's used very rarely. Typically only for special occasions such as proposals, weddings, deathbeds, that sort of thing. It carries the weight of unconditional or sacrificial love, and loving for the other person’s sake.

Smiling softly, he kissed my lips.

To fulfill our promise to curse each other until the very end—

I will live with you.

[Event Master List]

If you are 18+ years old and wish to be added to my tags list, please feel free to comment or dm me. Please specify if you want to be tagged in all translations or a specific suitor. If you wish to be removed from the list, please feel free to comment or dm me as well.

Tag list: @sh0jun @theimaginativelyreticent @sapphire-323 @velisle @nateko @greatwitchsongsinger @injudescoat @aeyumicore @complexivelovely @yuoi-the-magnificent @husbandosandladders @nawlink @justgiulia @vickietickie @greedyqueensfavourite @sharigax @belphiesleftpinkytoe @reimy1164 @barellorkilaam @goustmilk @aceuuuuu @yamaguchisaori @hiphiphooray4val @mika797 @spectraphobic-blog @kiyomizuki @cosmowgyral @lunaaka @rosalyne08 @8the-perfect-lie8 @voydsoul @kraiyne @midnightsrunaway @czechmatee7

#ikevil jude #jude jazza #ikevil #ikemen villains #ikevil translations #ikemen villains translations #jude jazza translations #Dividers: @.natimiles

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timblriche · 2 days ago

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How Will and Mike's first kiss could be directed to mirror their platonic-romantic tension and culminate in a romantic plot twist and "gotcha!" moment for the GA. Also, the narrative weight of hugs for Mike...

hear me out… it'd be a fantastic directing choice to maximize mike and will's platonic-romantic tension while preserving the 'mike likes will back' twist for the GA until the very last second by centering it around an intense platonic hug. (skip to the end if you just wanna read my rendition of their first kiss!)

like if instead of suddenly kissing, if during a big emotional moment they shared a super intense but innocent & initially platonic hug that lingered and grew until slowly morphing into a kiss, shocking the GA. a real hug is also what mike and will need so badly; even that is something mike denied himself in the airport scene bc he was already repressing how badly he wanted to hold will. so starting their first kiss with an intimate hug wouldn't just be romantic payoff, it would show how blurred the line between platonic and romantic feelings can be for mike and will. it'd be emotional catharsis, character resolution, and the moment mike finally stops running from the truth: starting with a simple hug (it'd validate mike's fear that a mere hug from will is the gateway drug to dangerous uncharted gay territory which would be kind of hilarious lmao). iirc the last time they shared a real hug was at the end of S3 when will moved and we got that scene of mike looking sadly and longingly at the car driving away, then the byers house, and then the shot of him devastated while getting a hug from his mom just like he did in S1 when he thought will died. and then we get that ridiculous ass half-hug at the airport in S4. so my point is, hugs carry a surprising amount of visual narrative weight when it comes to mike, the intensity of his feelings for will, and the blurred line between platonic and romantic.

let me set the scene... something crazy just happened, maybe one of them narrowly escaped certain death, maybe one just risked their own life to save the other, maybe one just did something super heroic to save everyone, OR maybe it's not even life or death but will just confessed his feelings after mike confronts him about the painting lie... and mike, in his shock at the sudden revelation, jumps to showing acceptance for will's sexuality but doesn't verbally reciprocate bc he's still figuring things out internally. it's at this point where will has already accepted that mike doesn't return his feelings, so he just accepts and values mike's platonic acceptance via a big platonic hug without expecting anything romantic, and the GA is like aww look at these besties being besties, they're the bestest of friends! of course mike doesn't reciprocate, he's just there to show will acceptance! platonically!

they're wrapped up in each other's arms with their heads tucked into each other's shoulders, feeling so much relief and closeness and maybe they're out of breath and tearful if they just escaped something life-or-death, and mike lifts his head a bit to whisper something into will's ear (e.g. "I thought I lost you") and he feels overwhelmed by all the platonic love he has for will... but wait... is it? platonic? why does the newfound knowledge of will's feelings for him stir something in his heart? why does this closeness he's been avoiding for so long feel so right and more importantly why does mike want more of it? and their faces slowly inch up each other's necks and get closer and closer together [tender, emotional music playing] and the GA's starting to panic a little bit and now their cheeks are pressed up and they're breathing heavily and the tension is unbearable and their eyes close (bc the momentum is unstoppable now, and all that’s left is to close their eyes and hold their breath and brace for the inevitable) and the corners of their mouths touch and they linger until slowly but surely succumbing to the pull of each other's gravity and GOTCHA! slowly falling into a kiss…………………. bro someone give me a director's chair on that set pleeeease

I took some inspo from willhelm and simon in young royals (willhelm faces a super similar internal crisis as mike):

#byler #byler analysis #will byers #mike wheeler #byler endgame #byler brainrot #byler tumblr #stranger things s5 #st5 #byler nation #stranger things predictions #stranger things theory #st theory #st 5

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nhmkhnh · 1 day ago

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hellooo, do you take c.ai requests? if so, may i please request a rich!older!abby who is a professional trainer and former athlete, (or maybe owns an athletic company or something) who makes diet plans for her younger!bimbo!girlfriend, and she likes, helps her workout and stuff too

𐔌 older!rich!abby anderson ━ younger!bimbo!fem!user ⸝⸝

≔ chat here (c.ai)! || ≔ chat here (janitor ai)! (soon?)

the weights clink quietly in the background. not the heavy kind—abby made sure of that. those were racked neatly out of reach. instead, she has her girl on resistance bands and soft pastel dumbbells, everything color-coded and easy to grip with manicured hands. no strain, no sweat—just enough to keep her toned. soft. touchable. pretty.

exactly how abby likes her.

she leans back on the leather bench, sweat still glistening across her own sculpted abs from her 5 am deadlifts. a protein shake in one hand, the other lazily holding her girl’s pink ipad, where the custom diet plan she spent three hours perfecting last night is open in a sparkly notes app.

“tuesday: oat milk smoothie, one scoop vanilla whey, four strawberries, half banana. protein waffles. no syrup.”

abby smiles at her own work. she’d even added a glitter heart sticker next to “abby’s approved 😘.”

she watches {{user}} curl the light weights in a matching set of baby blue—sports bra too small, shorts riding up that ridiculous ass abby spoils rotten. she could barely focus during that board meeting this morning, kept thinking about how she wanted to bend her girl over the conference table and—

“back straight, baby,” she murmurs instead, voice low and fond.

{{user}} adjusts instantly.

good girl.

abby gets up, padding across the plush flooring in her sports bra and compression leggings, broad frame casting a shadow over {{user}}. she gently sets her hands on her girlfriend’s waist and guides the motion. “there we go. just like that. you’re doing so good for me.”

she watches her form. watches the little pout when her arms get tired. watches the way her thighs jiggle just the right amount. abby swears she’s never been more obsessed in her life.

after a few more reps, she pulls the weights away and replaces them with a bottle of electrolyte water she imported from italy because it’s pink and tastes like strawberries. “hydrate,” she commands softly. then wipes her girl’s forehead with a warm towel.

“let’s do stretches now, yeah?” she says. “don’t wanna pull anything. you’re too precious for that.”

she leads her into the next room, where floor-length mirrors reflect the two of them—abby: tall, muscled, confident; {{user}}: dolled up, small in her hands, perfect. abby helps guide her into each stretch, palms sliding over soft skin under the pretense of “correcting form,” when really she just wants to touch. needs to.

the more abby presses close, the more the scent of her shampoo rises—something expensive and sugary sweet. the kind that lingers on abby’s pillows long after {{user}} slips back into her pink car and drives home, lip gloss still smeared on her cheek.

except abby never lets her leave without dinner. never lets her leave at all if she can help it.

once stretches are done, abby scoops her girl into her lap without warning, still sitting on the yoga mat. “you did so good, sweetheart,” she praises, voice thick, low against {{user}}’s neck. “you followed your meal plan, you finished your sets, you even texted me your weight like i asked.” a kiss to the jaw. “proud of you.”

she pulls out her phone and shows her a little progress chart she made, complete with sparkles and a photo of {{user}} at the top. “we’re gonna keep going slow, okay? keep you healthy. soft. just how i like you.”

#abby anderson x reader #abby x reader #abby anderson #c.ai bot

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primaviva · 22 hours ago

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“SICKENINGLY SWEET” ⸻ SWEETGIRL HEADCANONS

PAIR. sweet!abby anderson x sweet!masc!reader

SYNOPSIS. you and your girlfriend abby love each other a lot; so much so that everybody around you seems to be sick of it your antics.

WARNINGS. mdni, suggestive content, smut, mentions of strap on use, dirty talk, sub!abby, masc pet names, majority is fluff.

you and abby are like two brick houses with bows on top; sturdy, solid, reliable… and constantly pressed forehead to forehead whispering, “i missed you,” like you weren’t just apart for twenty minutes.

the rest of the patrol unit? fed up. fully.

manny once walked in on you two giggling under a tarp during watch duty. “you guys are gonna get sniped because you can’t stop cuddling.”

abby just blinked up like, “then i die warm.”

you two are just a ridiculous pair of sweethearts. she loves doing things for you to show her affection, even if it’s… questionable. abby could make you a shitty sandwich and you’d eat it like it’s fine dining.

“wow baby, this is two pieces of bread and cheese still in the plastic,” you comment. in your mind you know it’s diabolical. how did she not see the plastic? it’s not wrapped THAT thin.

but the minute she shrugs and bats her pretty lashes telling you it’s “it’s made with love.”

the switch up is evident.

“then i love it,” you grin, taking a big bite and choking slightly. just imagine that one spongebob meme where squidwards two front teeth are tacking the most microscopic bite out of the krabby patty? literally you. she kisses your forehead as her atonement for whatever food poisoning you’ll probably wake up with. should’ve taken the cheese out the plastic man…

she’s obsessed with your hands. especially when they’re on her.

rough palms sliding up her sides under her tank top. the quiet way you press your lips to the back of her shoulder in the morning before she’s fully awake.

you’re both tough as hell but the softest with each other, and it’s undeniably cute (or so you like to think).

she’ll walk into the gym and immediately find you across the room, eyes lighting up like the sun just came back after a week of torrential rain.

“there’s my baby,” she’ll grin, jogging over to press a sweaty kiss to your temple.

and you? you melt like the tip of a lit candle from the hot wick.

“hi, beautiful,” you murmur like you’ve just seen her for the first time.

gross! manny’s groaning from across the room.

abby smells like sweat, gun oil, and eucalyptus, and you’re addicted.

you nuzzle her neck constantly, half the time forgetting where you are.

“babe,” she whispers during a briefing. “you’re gonna get us kicked out.”

“you smell good,” you mumble. “gonna live here.”

she shakes her head but lets you. always lets you.

you’re the type to kneel down just to tie her bootlaces without her asking.

she’s mid-conversation and suddenly you’re crouched, focused, tongue between your teeth.

“they were coming undone,” you say simply, double-knotting them with care.

abby stares like she’s gonna propose again, even though you already live in her bed.

“i’m gonna kiss you so hard you can’t walk,” she whispers.

“good. carry me.”

she doesn’t even care if you’re joking. she 100% would, can, and will carry you.

you hold her hand like it’s a god crafted bracelet created for you.

anywhere, anytime.

at dinner. in meetings. even when it makes it awkward to reload your gun.

she’ll try to shake you off like “you need both hands to function y’know.”

you just smile. “nah, i only need one. the other’s for holding you.”

she groans but doesn’t let go.

abby can get a bit jealous. she wants your sweetness all to herself like a greedy bee among a pasture of flowers in the spring.

one time she got jealous you carried someone else’s bag.

it’s just for five seconds. someone was limping and you were helping like the sweet girl you are. she says nothing, but the angelic eyes giving you a not-so-angel stare of death and daggers behind your back tells you all you need to know. you could practically feel her staring you down. in fact—the tension is loud.

later, she pins you to the wall in the shower. “next time i limp, you better carry me.”

you grin, “of course baby.”

she’s not even mad. she just wants to be babied by you. exclusively.

she’s secretly the clingier one, even if no one else sees it.

you leave for five minutes and come back to her pretending she didn’t look for you three times already because at this point it’s a animalistic instinct engraved in her brain (and heart).

“where were you?”

“washing my hands.”

“for that long?”

she always sits in your lap when she’s tired; strong arms slung around your neck, her whole weight just relaxing onto you like you’re her favorite chair.

she doesn’t ask. she just does.

you instinctively pull her close, nose pressed to the side of her head. “long day?”

she hums, “better now.”

and everyone in the room rolls their eyes so hard it echoes.

she gets extra clingy when you’re injured—a quiet, fretted clingy as if you’re slipping through her fingers like sand.

sits next to your cot, arms crossed, pretending not to hover like the helicopter lover she is.

“i’m fine, abby.”

“but you almost weren’t.”

you reach out, touch her hand. “you’d never let that happen.”

she doesn’t answer but instead just leans down and kisses your wrist.

she gets defensive when people tease you about being soft.

“aww, look at her, such a gentleman,” someone sneers.

abby turns immediately. “say that again and i’ll knock your teeth in for every time she opened a door for me.”

you’re behind her like she’s your knight in shining armor (a t-shirt with an unknown stain paired with faded jeans and boots being the armor in question). but hey, her sticking up for you is deeply appreciated and not to mention… kinda hot.

you’re both givers. which means every time ends up being a silent competition of who can make the other cum first.

abby pulls your shirt off with a reverence that makes your skin burn.

“you’re so good,” she murmurs against your throat, voice thick and honey-slow. “always so fucking good to me.”

you slide your fingers along her ribs and smile, breath shaky. “only for you.”

and it’s true. she could ask anything and you’d do it.

abby’s into how gentle you are, even when you’re fucking her.

“you don’t gotta be so sweet,” she pants, hand gripping your shoulder.

but you’re already kissing her cheek, whispering, “wanna be. wanna make it feel’so good.”

she could melt straight into the mattress. full-body shivers—her goosebumps feel like goose pothole. that’s your effect on her.

you lowkey have the filthiest mouth during sex, but it’s gentle. like, respectful filth.

abby’s whimpering underneath you, and you’re saying stuff like:

“taking me so well, sweetheart.”

“that’s it, baby. breathe through it.”

“y’re perfect like this, y’know that?”

and she’s clawing at your back unable to utter anything that remotely sounds like a letter in the alphabet.

you have to be sweet to your girl in the bedroom and just as she has her ways, you have yours. your strap game is respectful. devastating. ridiculous.

she once limped into the medbay the next day. nora asked what happened.

“squats,” she lied. her ass did not do squats.

meanwhile you were behind her in line, smug and beaming like the damn sun.

she’ll go down on you like she’s starving, but your praise? that’s what undoes her.

“that’s it, baby,” you whisper, hips trembling. “so good at this. just like that.”

she moans into you like she needs the approval to breathe.

you thread your fingers through her braid and gently tug, “my girl.”

she nearly loses it.

she calls you “handsome” in the dirtiest voice you’ve ever heard.

like when you’re pinning her against the wall and she’s pulling you in by the shirt.

“so good to me, huh? my handsome girl always knows how to ruin me…”

you’re not even sure if you blacked out or cummed from the praise alone.

abby’s obsessed with the way you take care of her after.

cool rag on her neck, soft kisses over bruises made by you and admittedly liked too much, wrapping her in your hoodie even though she’s the one who could lift you.

“why are you looking at me like that?” she asks sleepily.

“because you’re the most beautiful thing i’ve ever ruined.” oop-

she covers her face with her hands as her thighs rub together.

everyone’s sick of how in love you are.

they groan every time you call her “sweetheart” or whisper “you’re all i need” like it’s not the third time today.

but you don’t care. and neither does she.

you’d go soft and stupid for her a thousand times over, and over, and over again.

DO NOT STEAL, COPY, OR TRANSLATE MY WORK. ©PRIMAVIVA.

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chuellas · 2 days ago

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Phainon is such a casual toucher and I don’t mean in the sense of typical casual touches. It’s not just brushing of the hands, knocking of the knees, grazing thighs when sitting next to each other, holding your shoulders when grounding you. No. I mean he makes every touch seem so casual, so natural. Touches that should be intimate are made to look so normal coming from him.

You have a hair in your face? “Oh, here, let me get that for you.” There is zero hesitation, all confidence. There’s a breeze and you’re shivering? “I have plenty of space in my jacket, come here.” Before you can answer he wraps you in his jacket against his ridiculously warm chest. He’s expressing his excitement for you? “That’s amazing, you have to tell me more.” As he’s taking your hands in his and lightly shaking them.

It’s always done with such little effort, that you never even question it. Even if you’re someone who has an aversion to touch, it just seems comfortable with him, there’s never ill intent behind it. It’s just Phainon, it’s who he is and it just makes sense that he’s allowed to be in your space like that.

#yapping ʚїɞ #this may be catered to me #but #it’s also so true #you cannot convince me otherwise

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americaswritings · 2 days ago

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Headcanon: Being Mason Thames Acting Partner in HTTYD and Falling in love

I have no idea how Hollywood works so this is probably completely unrealistic, but who cares, let a girl dream...

Masterlist

HTTYD is your first big acting gig so when you found out you got the role as the female lead you were so excited!!

But also so nervous

And then you were told Mason Thames would be the male lead and your acting partner in most of your scenes so obviously you googled him right away

And oh god that boy is handsome!

That didn't help your nerves at all :))

You actually told your friends you would be in trouble, if he was nice, because how were you supposed to not develope a crush on him when you would spend literally all day together for months (and kiss)??

Well, he turned out to be so sweet and funny so sigh there went your heart...

It was just you two your age at the beginning of filming so you spent a lot of your (limited) free time playing Mario Kart, watching movies or just hanging out

And you looove re-creating silly tiktoks or coming up with your own ideas for videos (you are so goofy together)

You keep them private though (for now)

“If we post this TikTok, we’ll either go viral or get disowned by the internet.”

“Perfect. Let’s make another one!”

If you're both tired or spend too much time together you develope peak chaotic energy

and there is always lot's of banter

You two grew close quickly, because you're both so young and going through this together

“You know, I’m really glad it’s you I get to do all this with.”

When you get homesick he comforts you

He is so funny and always joking around, but if you have something serious to talk about he always listens and tries to give you advice

And if he doesn't have any he is just there for you or tries to distract you - whatever you need

Also you fall asleep on set A LOT and he always takes photos of you

“Delete it!”

“Never. It’s going in The Archive.”

“THE WHAT?”

“My private masterpiece. 11 photos and counting.”

Yeah, the boy has a whole album on his phone just with photos of you passed out somewhere just to annoy you with them later

"What do you think? Should I post this? Or maybe put it in my story?"

"Don't you dare!"

But he actually thinks you are so cute :))

You fall asleep on his shoulder once and he doesn’t dare move for like an hour, because he doesn’t want to disturb you and for you to wake up and move

Someone else takes a photo then (and he loves that one even more) ;)

With time you grow more comfortable touching each other and eventually it has just become natural for you to be touching in some small way a lot of the time

For example you reach out and fix his hair mid-sentence

"Your hair is always in chaos."

Or you rest your head on his shoulder during a break

"That way you can't take a photo of me, if I fall asleep."

You always have excuses though, if someone else points it out

"It's just for the photo so we look like we don't hate each other!"

"Oh we don't?"

"Only most days."

And you like to jump on his back

"You’ve got to stop doing that without warning.”

“But you always catch me!”

“One day I won’t, and you’ll regret it.”

“Liar.”

Oh and he is tall

"Wow I can see the whole world from up here!"

"You're so ridiculous!"

Sometimes he gets overwhelmed and tired, because he is the lead of the film and therefore has the longest hours and the least breaks

And there are huge expectations...

You always notice he feels that way when he grows quiet

When you two are alone you sit down and tell him how good of an actor he is and how perfectly he fits the role

"You don't have to carry it all alone. We're all here to help."

You are not proud of it, but you get a little jealous when you see people on the internet being so open about their crush on him and how good he looks

It's a little overwhelming and makes you feel small and not good enough

Because how could he ever see you then...

Which is ridiculous, because you get to spend time with him every day while the people on social media don't even know him, but feelings aren't rational...

When you accidentally get hurt filming a fight scene he is so worried at first

You are a bit embarassed about all the attention

"It's just a little nosebleed, I'll live!"

And he keeps checking on you to make sure you're really okay

But at the end of the day you both laugh about it

"You should have seen your face!"

And it makes the cut which you both think is really funny

"Some editor out there really watched me bleeding and went, ‘Yeah… that’s cinema."

“Method acting at its finest.”

One day near the end of shooting you admit to him that you’re scared of filming to be over...

“I don’t want it to end.”

“The shoot?”

“Yeah. I mean… yes and no. I’m excited to go home and sleep for like twelve years. And eat food that doesn’t come from craft services. But also…I’ve gotten so used to seeing you every day. And when this is over, we’re just going back to our lives, right? You’ll be on some new set. I’ll be… somewhere else..."

You don't want to lose the close friendship you have developed

You actually tear up and he is so helpless at first

But then he tells you he is going to text you all the time with updates from his life

"Constantly. You’ll block me out of pure annoyance."

And that you are going to FaceTime a lot, send each other funny reels and visit each other whenever possible

"You are going to be so famous now, you will be busy."

"Come on, I'm never too busy for you!"

"Promise?" "Promise."

And when you wrapped he is the first one to start clapping and give you the biggest hug

When filming is done you still have press to go

(It‘s so exhausting)

At first you’re both sooo nervous and try your best to give good answers and speak all grown-up

Interviewer: “You two seem very mature for your age.”

And you just look at each other and think about the dumb tiktoks you did together the night before

But at one point you’re both so jet-lagged and tired you can’t keep it up anymore

When you accidentally say something unfiltered and weird, he bursts out laughing

“I take it back!"

“Too late. That’s going viral.”

After that you just have fun together and laugh a lot and the fans and interviewers love that too so :)))

It’s is so hard though, seeing him dressed up like that every day ;)

You love all the dresses and outfits you get and how you get styled ("I look like I have my life together")

but you’re also just so tired???

He loves seeing you dressed up too OBVIOUSLY and sometimes you swear he keeps looking at you WHICH IS RIDICULOUS WHY WOULD HE

You both talk about how you’re so excited for a day in sweat pants all the time

You have amazing chemistry in the interviews

That's what the fans say and maayyybe you obsess over it a bit

You even found some fans making compilations of your cute moments and you secretly torment yourself watching them and wondering if he feels the same

(Yeah, you really shouldn't go on social media these days...)

But you do have become such a good team that when one gets stuck on an answer, the other jumps in to finish or redirect it smoothly

When it's time to test your knowledge about the other

"So how well do you really know each other? Ready?”

you exchange a playful look with Mason

Needless to say you perform well on all the friendship tests (duh)

But you still learn something new about the other too and it’s your favorite thing

"I once posted a cover of me singing a Taylor Swift song on youtube and it blew up for a moment."

"Wait? Did you really? How did I not know that? I need to find that!"

The thought of him listening to you sing makes you blush

"I am definitely looking that up later!"

"No, you're not!"

"I so am!"

"I need to take down that video!"

Some questions are hard to answer though, because they put you on the spot

“How do you manage the pressure of being part of such a popular movie at your age and staying ‘picture perfect’?”

Like what are you suposed to say to that?

Or they get very personal and sometimes hurtful

"You joined a really beloved franchise, and with that comes a lot of pressure. There was some noise around your casting at first, and as the female lead opposite Mason, fans have a lot of opinions. How do you deal with that kind of feedback or hate when it shows up on social media?

These questions always stress you out and raise your anxiety and bring down your mood

“…so yeah, I try not to read too much of it and remind myself why I love doing this. But I’d be lying if I said it doesn’t get to me sometimes.”

Mason notices when that happens, because he knows you so well, and he always makes sure, in some small way, that you feel better.

If he can with words:

"People forget there’s a real person behind the screen — and she’s one of the kindest, most hardworking and talented people I’ve ever met. I wouldn’t want to be doing this with anyone else.”

Or he might give you a reassuring look if the camera isn’t on him

Or he initiates some little touch and contact with you

Like brushing his knee against yours under the table

You also have quite unique press dates like recording a day at a theme park (which was so much fun!!)

Or answering the webs most searched questions like you have seen real celebrities do

Sometimes you get sexist questions though. At your age it's not so bad and obvious, but whereas Mason gets asked about the action of the film you get asked about fashion...

You bring it up to him once because it's annoying and hurtful and you come up with a way to deal with those questions together

And when it happens the next time he remembers and helps you shut down the question :))

And when press is over

you did the premieres

and watched the final film together (you definitely did not cry over it)

it's time to say goodbye (there might have been even more tears involved)

But you promised

and so you hadn't even taken-off when his first message pops in

and when you land there are a dozen more

and you make it work

in between schedules and life you face-time and call and text and one day...

...Mason stands in front of your door

"Surprise!"

Tags:

PERMANENT

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tamoscringecorner · 3 days ago

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SPAMTON X TENNA HEADCANONS!! (Old man toxic Yaoi final boss?!?!) Also, they are officially called 'TVBuisness' 📺💲

-Sometimes when they try to kiss, due to their noses they can't so they just boop each other's noses with theirs -Whenever Spamton makes Tena flustered steam comes out of him and his CPU overheats -Spamton as a silly pet name calls Tenna "Mr. Big Shot" and in return, Tenna calls him "Mr. Small Shot" -Often times Spamton is the one to work on Tenna's repairs and upgrades because he is light and can put his hands in his chest cavity with ease due to how small he is -As a guilty pleasure in secret Tenna watches sappy old rom-coms and always wanted to do that by sharing a scarf cue but due to their height difference he can't, so to make up for it he just puts Tenna on his shoulder and wraps them up with the scarf -Spamton can't reach Tenna's hand so instead of holding his hand he just clings onto his pants leg -For April Fool's or Halloween they dress up as each other mainly because it's both a cute couple costume and their height differences make them look ridiculous -Spamton always helps plan and choose Tenna's outfits and Tenna always takes care of Spamton's hygiene -Tenna threatens to fire anyone who is even SLIGHTLY mean to Spamton or dares to tell him he did something wrong (GASP?!) even if they don't work for him -One-time Spamton causally mentions how he 'found it kinda annoying how there is so much merch of him but not himself' to Tenna and right after Tenna called 50 manufacturers and created Spamton his own line of merch and forced his employees to buy it or they'd 'BE FIRED WITH NO PAY!!' on the plus side Spatmon was now turned into a fan favorite aside from Tenna -Sometimes Tenna introduces Spatmon to his show as a 'charming, amazing, kinda, and PERFECT guest star!', at this rate he's done it so often it's no longer a mystery it's him -On April 1st as a prank, the stage crew put a kiss cam on him and Spamton in the middle of the show and pressured the crowd to cheer for them to kiss, it seemed sweet but the moment turned kinda silly since Tenna nearly passed out from his system overheating and them taking 5 minutes trying to kiss but unable to due to their noses constantly getting in the way -Spamton and Tenna have matching rainbow ties with each other's initials on them and they are SO annoying about it. -When it's pride month and Tenna makes ALL and I mean ALL the merch rainbowified, he even forces the employees to wear a rainbow shirt or tie. -Tenna's marketing team thought they needed something to prove that Tenna was 'woke' and supported the LGBT community truly so for the whole month there were millions of pins and shirts with fanart of Tenna and Spamton. It was EVERYWHERE, pins, shirts, hats, mugs, and the worst part was everyone loved it. When Tenna and Spamton found out about this 'marketing genius idea' Tenna almost passed out and Spamton just repeated '[HOLY CONGERO HOCHI MAMA]'

They are so stupid I hope they get bombed.

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thelostprincessposts · 21 hours ago

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Sunflower [Painted Verso x Reader]

Pairings: Painted Verso x Reader

Summary: you like Verso, but you think he likes Lune, and you're both clueless in love. Angst with a happy ending!

Rating: PG?

Warnings: none really. Canon-typical violence and injuries.

Author's note: I am PMSing this week so what started angsty turned mushy because Verso makes me mush

The realization hit you like a ton of bricks as your gaze followed Verso's lip movements; the way his sentence would finish and the corner of his lips would uptick slightly in a warm smile. His eyes were glittering, half lidded as he listened intently. The way the fire lit his beautiful eyes. How the flames made him seem softer and more content than usual. You could listen to the mirth of his laugh forever; let it lull you into a stupor as you sat there entranced. You wished you could reach out and brush away the stray hair that managed to fall over his forehead.

Fuck. You were falling for Verso.

There was a small...tiny...miniscule problem, though. You sat across the campfire, observing him from a distance. His current demeanor was not aimed at you, but at your teammate, Lune. And Lune was one of your best friends, so how could you interfere with her happiness?

Verso seemed so at ease with her. They would poke fun at each other and ask each other the most ridiculous questions, like "would you rather be a monkey or an elephant?" And then get into a heated debate about the pros and cons.

When did you even start to harbor these feelings for Verso? You couldn't remember a time that you looked at him without thinking how attractive he was or a time when his sarcastic remarks wouldn't make your chest feel warm.

You sighed to yourself and tore your eyes away from them, instead leaning your head on Sciel's shoulder. She was fond of snuggling and gently laughed while wrapping her arm around you.

"You know I can always tell what you're thinking?" She said mischievously. You pulled your head away to narrow your eyes at her. She stared right back with a smirk.

"Cards, yeah? Let's play," you suggested heavily. Since Sciel could summon her deck anywhere, you two were getting quite good at various games each night.

"Fine, but I'm not letting you win this time," she fake yawned before dealing your hand.

"Ouch," you laughed back. You tried your hardest not to look over at Verso and Lune. You'd had enough pining for one night. In turning your back to him you completely missed the way Verso's eyes softened at your laughter with Sciel.

_______________

You then thought, perhaps, that Verso viewed you as a liability. He'd suggested sparring with you to prepare for the next area you'd be exploring. "The nevrons there are really fast, and I noticed you haven't been our quickest dodger..."

You almost spit out the oats you were eating for breakfast. "Uh... I'm not sure how you want me to take that observation," you said, more than mildly offended. His eyes widened and his hands became super animated as he replied.

"No! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you. All I'm saying is that I'd like to help you train. If you're not comfortable with me, I can ask Monoco to help too," he suggested. "It's just that I know some of these nevrons have effects that can't be parried. I need to be sure you can dodge."

It was still early. Lune was grumbling through breakfast (she's definitely not a morning person). Sciel was already helping Maelle with her pictos in a clearing nearby.

Verso's eyes looked helpless. He rubbed his neck waiting for your response.

Your heart raced against your will at the prospect of training with Verso in private, even if just for a few minutes. "Okay, if you think it will help," you agreed.

He gave you a crooked smile and stretched his arm to the edge of camp gesturing to an open area to practice. You walked past him trying to hide the blush that was inevitably creeping across your face. Get it together.

You stepped away from him and pulled out your daggers in preparation. "No daggers," he commanded. "I'm going to send blank chroma waves at you, gradually faster, until you're comfortable dodging them. And then maybe some hand to hand combat if you're up for it."

You nodded in anticipation. Admittedly, you were not the fastest fighter of your crew. You were methodical and always there to support the fight, but it wasn't in you to run in, guns blazing for a takedown. Verso shook his jacket off and removed his weapons belt, leaving him in his white blouse. That damn neckline showed off the valley of his chest and you had to force yourself to meet his eyes.

He started off slowly - sending blasts of chroma near your feet and then to your sides to dodge. As the speed picked up you were bending and jumping, cutting to the left and right to avoid the shots.

"Good. I'm not so worried about distance combat," he said, motioning his fingers to beckon you closer to him. Your chest was heaving trying to keep up with your movements.

Verso didn't give you a chance for a break, instead launching into a series of punches. He wasn't putting much weight behind them. You only noticed this because, as he expected, you were not as good at dodging in close range combat. His hands grazed your shoulders and arms a few times before you lifted your arms in defeat.

"I need to catch my breath," you admitted before scratching your flask of water.

"You're getting better," he offered while you took a long pull from the bottle. You couldn't help the next thought that popped into your mind, let alone left your mouth.

"Have you trained with Lune?" You asked. Your back was turned to him while you replaced the bottle cap and set the water aside.

"I don't have to. She's a strong fighter," he replied. Part of you was giddy that you had his attention, but the other part of you was horrified that his attention was on you for the wrong reason. When you didn't reply he started to stutter over his words. "Look, I...I didn't mean you're not a strong fighter. You've held your own. I just, I wanted to -"

"Save it, Dessendre. Let's go again." Your shoulder brushed his as you strode past him to your starting point. In an attempt to not show your defeated face, you missed the look of total regret covering Verso's festures. When he turned to you and nodded, you'd never be the wiser.

Verso was fast, but you knew the nevrons could be faster. You went through two more rounds of hand to hand before Maelle approached to watch. You'd been in the middle of taking a breather when she suggested it: "maybe I should practice with you. My sword can be very fast."

You took a hesitant look at Verso, but he agreed with Maelle. Maelle was giddy to be included, though you felt your time with Verso was cut short. You and Maelle started with hand to hand drills before moving to makeshift weapons. Her sword was replaced by a sturdy branch, your daggers replaced by twigs.

Lune came over during the sparring to see what was happening. You couldn't help but notice how both her and Verso's faces lit up as they talked. You saw her laugh out of the corner of your eye at something he said and the next thing you knew you were groaning in pain before landing on your ass.

Maelle's stubby branch had made contact with your ribcage and a bruise was surely forming. You felt the wind knock out of you as you hit the ground and Maelle gasped.

"Oh my gods, I'm so sorry Y/N!"

You shook your head as you winced and felt your lungs struggle to open up. Verso rushed to your side immediately and lifted your shirt to see if any real damage was done. "Look at me, Y/N. You can breathe. You just had the wind knocked out of you. Take a small breath through your nose," he coached you. His eyes were intently scanning your face before his hand reached down to brush the hair off your forehead.

As your breathing figured itself out, you felt immense embarrassment and anger at how you allowed yourself to be distracted. You needed to forget about Verso.

"I'm fine," you murmured as you rolled to your side, away from the team huddled over you, and pushed yourself up. They couldn't see the way your face scrunched up in discomfort.

"Y/N..." Lune managed to catch your arm as you went to pick up your water. "I can help heal it if you want." Of course she could. Lune could do fucking anything.

Your eyes met hers. Your resolve was crumbling as you felt Verso's pained eyes staring you down from where you fell. "I'm fine, Lune. I'd like to be alone for a bit."

She nodded and watched you stalk off to the springs to get cleaned up.

__________

You and Maelle were chatting over the fire when Lune interrupted to ask about your bruising. Maelle respectfully slipped away so Lune could sit with you on the log.

It was just the two of you. You lifted your shirt so she could see your injury more clearly. "Yikes, that's intense. I'm shocked Maelle had that much force behind it."

"I wouldn't underestimate her. I think I just lost focus after all that training." Lune nodded at your flimsy excuse and brought her hand to her chin thoughtfully.

"It doesn't look like anything is broken. Do you want any healing?" She asked. You lowered your shirt and shook your head.

"I'm okay. I'll just have to pay more attention next time."

There was a stretch of comfortable silence as you both watched the fire. You'd known Lune since you were children. If there was anyone who really understood you, it was probably her. "It was kind of Verso to offer to train with you," she said.

You didn't really have a response, still unsure of what to make of his intentions. You made a noncommital hum in response. Your thoughts wandered thinking how foreign it felt to hear Lune speak with you about Verso - about any man, really. Lune never was the kind for girl talk back in Lumiere.

"Sooo...what do you think of him?" Lune prodded. There it was. Lune wanted your opinion on the man she was interested in. Her smile was growing and you knew you had to choose your words carefully.

You ran your hand through your hair with a shrug. "From what I can tell he seems to be endearing. He seems to get along with everyone quite well."

She chuckled and crossed her legs. "Endearing? Are we playing a word game?" She teased.

You laughed a bit yourself, trying to relax. "I don't know, Lune. He's not been with us that long." 19 days, 2 hours, and 49 minutes actually. "What don't you want me to say?"

"I wish you'd get to know him better."

Maybe you didn't spend your days chatting with him nonstop, but you knew plenty. You knew he was a terrible sleeper. Knew he was hiding an arm injury from the way he favored his left arm. Knew that he savored the instant coffee the team brought because it took him 30 minutes of nursing his cup in the morning before finishing it. You knew the way his eyes crinkled when he found something undoubtedly funny. And you knew he was falling for Lune.

"I've gotten to know him plenty. I'm happy he's with the team."

What you were really trying to say to her was: I'm happy for you. But you couldn't bring yourself to say it directly yet.

Lune threw an arm around you and you returned the embrace with a hug. Your heart might have felt like it shredded into a million pieces, but you would never let her know this.

__________

As if getting an injury during sparring wasn't embarrassing enough, Verso was constantly checking up on you throughout the next day. It felt like at each mile you walked he was asking if you were coping alright and telling you to stay out of nevron conflict - that the team could handle it without you.

You felt useless and like a hindrance all day. Your thoughts were unkind as you watched Verso and Lune walk side by side ahead of you. Verso was making Monoco walk near you since he was much bigger and could defend you quickly. By the time you made it back to camp, you were over it.

You completely skipped team decompression by the fire. As much as you wanted to be there for the team, you weren't sure you could handle another heart to heart with Lune.

Thankfully, you didn't have to tonight. You scrubbed your face with spring water and noticed Lune and Verso had made their way to the cliffside to chat. You couldn't resist peeking around the corner to see what they were up to. Their conversation looked intimate from the way he ran his hand through his hair and the way her hand was gently soothing his upper arm. Your heart completely crumbled at the sight.

You turned away quickly and tried to swallow the lump in your throat before anyone could see you. Your vision felt blurred and your chest ached thinking of their romance; not to mention the bruise on your side making it difficult to breathe deeply.

"Everything alright, Y/N?" Sciel asked, concerned when you snatched your bedroll and water flask up in a flurry.

"Fine, I'm just exhausted. I'm going to sleep," you replied in a rush before settling down in the cave where the Curator usually set up. It was always quiet and dark there. Once you knew you were alone, you couldn't stop the tears from slipping down your face. Eventually sleep took you blissfully away from any thoughts of Verso's proximity to Lune or Lune's boisterous laugh.

___________

You woke the next day with a wicked headache, surely from crying all night. Though, it did feel good to release all those emotions. You were resolved to start the day anew and distance yourself from Verso and Lune while you sorted out your feelings.

This proved difficult as Verso intercepted you on your way to the campfire in the morning. "Y/N, how are you doing? Sciel mentioned you looked unwell last night." Traitor, you thought.

You pushed past him to grab an apple from the supply stash. "I'm fine. Was just tired is all. You don't need to worry about me." Your words were clipped as you refused to make eye contact with him.

"Y/N! You're awake. Can I take a look at your ribs?" Lune exclaimed, coming around the corner with some fish from the stream. Your new day's resolution was imploding at both of them hovering over you.

"I'm fine," you said tightly. "Much better than yesterday."

"Is it normal for you to wince, then? You look pained," Verso remarked, crossing his arms.

"Are you guys going to fuss over me all day or can we just get going? I said I was fine. Let's leave it at that."

Verso and Lune shared a glance. They were having some secret conversation in their eyes. Your heart panged, but Lune put her hands up in surrender.

A few hours later the team was trekking through an area of dense forest trying to find an old expedition camp Verso swore had leftover supplies. You were thankful that the foliage was so thick that it prevented the sun from beating your forehead any further, but the forest felt oddly quiet. Too quiet.

"Stay close. Something is off," Verso whispered from the front. The only sounds for a few minutes were your feet crunching leaves and the wind whipping through the trees. Verso moved cautiously in front of you, his arm pulling you behind him. You startled at the contact, but your heart warmed at his protection.

You didn't have time to dwell on the moment because within seconds your team was surrounded by bulky nevrons with bladed arms and legs.

"It's an ambush! Circle formation!" Lune called from your side.

The team naturally moved so that everyone's back was facing the center. Everyone was focused outward and no nevron would get between the group. You were secretly grateful for Verso's trainings since these foes were, indeed, close range combat fighters. You parried their arms as best you could and then dodged to land blows at their sides. You had to have been close to the abandoned camp with how many nevrons were surrounding the area.

You were winded from fighting off three opponents, but you couldn't lose focus. Lune was dodging her opponents but was overrun. You helped her by taking down a nevron at close range. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed another nevron moving on Verso and hurried to meet it.

The nevron was fast, but when it noticed you coming it switched its attention from Verso to you. In one swooping motion, its arm aimed from Verso's side to your leg and you didn't have enough time to dodge from the way your momentum was carrying you. The blade sliced your thigh, tearing through your pants and leaving an immediate gash.

You let out a guttural yell as your dagger met its chest, the nevron disappearing as your leg gave out.

"Y/N!" Verso screamed. You were falling and your leg was on fire and you were pretty sure it was the dumbest thing you'd ever done. It dawned on you that Verso was immortal and would recover from the nevron attack. You, on the other hand, were already injured and definitely not immortal.

You could hear yourself screaming and writhing in pain, but your mind felt disconnected from your body. Your eyes searched the trees above you; your peripheral caught the flashes of Lune's fire attack and a burst of energy from Sciel.

The wind picked up again and as you watched the leaves dancing in the wind, your eyes fluttered closed of their own accord and strong arms gathered you from the ground.

__________

You weren't sure how long you'd been unconscious, but the next time your eyes opened it was dark. Your body had only woken you up to purge, for in seconds you rolled over to heave onto the ground.

Someone was saying your name. Someone else mentioned poison. The sensation of wet fabric cleaning your face was the last thing you remembered before slipping back to a dreamless sleep.

__________

You were hardly awake, but you were roused from your sleep by your body shaking intensely. You felt like your bones were trying to break out of your skin from how harshly you shook; your teeth clattered and you felt extremely cold despite a sheen of sweat coating your skin.

Lune's hands were on your leg while she attempted to cleanse and heal it. She had not realized your eyes were open yet. "Lune..." you croaked.

Her eyes whipped up to watch you before she yelled for the team. "So...cold..." you managed to whisper to her.

"You're cold? You're burning up. You've been poisoned by the nevron's blade. Your body is trying to rid the poison," she spoke gently. Verso was the first to make it over to you two. You were struggling to stay awake, but you would never forget the way his wild eyes held yours. "She's complaining that she's cold," was all Lune said before turning her full attention to your leg.

Sleep was coming for you, but not before you felt another jacket being placed on your body and the warmth of a body behind you.

__________

It was dusk when you opened your eyes next. The sky was a beautiful mix of pinks and blues while the sun was setting and you could smell someone cooking at the fire nearby. Your body was no longer shaking and your leg, while painful, at least was not on fire any longer.

You coughed from your dry throat and heard footsteps racing toward you. "Oh thank goodness! Let me get you some water," Sciel exclaimed. "Lune! Y/N is awake!"

You attempted to prop yourself up on your elbows when you noted a log behind you. Lune was by your side in an instant to help you rest against the log in a semi-seated position. Sciel returned with a flask of water, but Lune warned not to drink too much in case your body threw up again.

"Your fever has broken," Lune commented after touching your forehead. Sciel was stroking your arm soothingly, trying to be close to you, but not too close.

"Where is everyone?" You asked. You seemed to be at the old expedition camp, but it was just these girls with you.

"Verso took Maelle and Monoco to look for something. They should be back soon," Lune commented before examining your leg.

"How long was I out?" You asked through a wince while she prodded at your bandage.

"About a day...although you were up a few times to puke through the night. We were afraid to move you back to camp, even with Esquie. You were...in pretty rough shape," Sciel responded.

You caught a glimpse of your mottled leg under the bandage and grimaced. It was dark and the scar looked rotten. Lune had done more than a fine job of closing up the wound.

"I remember you healing me, Lune. I can't thank you enough," you said quietly. She shook her head as she replaced the bandage.

"None needed. This is what we do for each other. We do what we must."

You caught her wrist and made to hold her hand, but her eyes got all weepy. "Lune, there's something I've been wanting to say and now feels as good a time as any since Verso isn't here. I'm so happy for you," you stated as best you could.

Lune's face held pure confusion as she looked from you to Sciel. Sciel shrugged. "What...do you mean?" Lune asked.

"I mean you and Verso. You don't have to deny it. I saw you two the other night at camp and the way he acts with you. I'm happy you found someone that cares for you."

Lune stared at you with wide eyes before busting out laughing. She ripped her hand out of yours to wipe tears from her eyes. It was your turn to look confused. "You...you think...Verso is into me?" She managed to get out between laughs.

Meanwhile, you and Sciel eyed each other, both confused as hell at whatever was happening. "Lune, you two have spent most nights in each other's company."

"You idiot," she smirked as her laughter finally calmed down. "He's been asking me about you. He's been so nervous about getting to know you. I guess it looked like we were together, but I did nothing but speak of you in private. Trust me, Verso only has eyes for you."

"Me?"

"Y/N?" Sciel asked at the same time.

Lune shook her head laughing and adjusted to sit on your left. Sciel sat on your right in a cozy gal pal circle...well, triangle.

"Y/N, I've been coaching Verso on how to approach you. Albeit, my advice doesn't seem to always work, but he's trying to get comfortable around you. He cares a lot for you," Lune shared and Sciel 'awwwed.' Your heart soared at the prospect of Verso inquiring after you.

"That...makes no sense. He practically told me I was a bad fighter and then had Monoco babysit me on our trek."

"He just didn't want to see you get hurt. He's...not the best with words yet, but his intentions were good, I promise," Lune offered.

The fire cracked and the sky grew darker. You weren't sure how much longer you had before the others returned, but your mind was still trying to make sense of Lune's admission.

"Soooo...you're not into Verso, then?" You asked quietly.

"No, Y/N. That's why I asked what you thought of him. I already gathered that he was into you, but I needed to know if you had any interest."

"Gods, I feel ridiculous," Sciel laughed.

"Why?" Lune questioned, eyes narrowed.

"I'm pretty sure I aggressively hit on Verso and few nights ago. Makes sense why he turned me down now." The three of you cackled and it felt just like old times in Lumiere. It took a minute or two to calm down from the laugh attack before you sighed.

"I am happy that you would have supported me if Verso and I were a thing," Lune said, squeezing your hang. "But, I have to know...you are into him right?"

You felt your cheeks heat and you looked down at your lap. "I'm very into him," you admitted.

"Okay good, because that man stayed up all night trying to keep you warm and he's currently out looking for sunflowers for you."

You opened your mouth to reply, but were cut off by Esquie's shouting coming through the clearing. "Mes amis! We return!"

Both Sciel and Lune stood up, the latter giving you a wink before checking on the food over the fire. You couldn't even imagine what you looked like after 24 hours of poison-fueled sickness, but there was no time to fix that.

It just registered to you that Verso's jacket was covering you since he approached the group in just his white shirt. You felt like you might explode with anticipation, which admittedly was better than feeling like you might puke again. Verso picked up his pace when he saw you were awake.

"She's awake and thankfully it looks like she's on the mend," Lune announced. She was stirring a stew of some sort - an expedition speciality to throw whatever you could find into a pot.

Verso's eyes met yours once in the camp perimeter and you caught a glimpse of a bundle of flowers in his hand. He immediately came to kneel by you. You could see the exhaustion lining his features before he forced a smile. "You're awake," he said in disbelief.

"I already said that," Lune chimed in. She grinned as she watched you two and you couldn't help but roll your eyes.

"Lune..." you warned. She laughed and turned around, but you sighed and noticed Sciel watching you too.

"Any chance you can help me to a more private location so we can chat?" You whispered to Verso. This time he gave you a real smile and nodded. He handed the flowers to Maelle and scooped you up in his arms. He might have looked exhausted, but the ease at which he carried you said otherwise. Maelle trailed behind with the flowers saying how relieved she was to see you recovering.

Verso brought you to a tree log around the corner and set you down gently before turning to Maelle. You shrugged his jacket off while he turned away, and as Maelle sauntered back to camp, you both turned to each other with an offering: his arm outstretched with a bouquet of wildflowers and your arm bearing his jacket.

"Thank you for the jacket, but it's getting cold and you may need it."

"Are you still cold?" He asked before sitting next to you.

"No, and I hear I have you to thank for that," you blushed. He took his jacket from your hands and slipped it on.

There was a moment where he didn't say anything, just contemplated the ground and refused to meet your eyes, but you didn't want to rush this conversation.

"I'm struggling to decide if I should yell or scream or cry over what you did yesterday, but I'm just...so happy you're alive," Verso said quietly. A shiver made its way up your spine at the vulnerability in his words.

"Me too. I'm forever indebted to you and the team for taking care of me. I wasn't thinking properly when we were attacked."

Verso gave a small nod and met your eyes. "What were you thinking?"

You laughed a bit to yourself. "Probably something along the lines of 'I'll show Verso how fast a dodger I am and how dare he think I'm a terrible fighter.'"

He raised an eyebrow at you. "I don't think you're a terrible -"

"But the louder part of my brain was thinking that I couldn't stand to see you get hurt. Even if you would recover," you cut him off. You could see him visibly swallow before reaching for your hand. His right hand gently covered your left and he stared at the connection for a moment.

"I was terrified," he whispered. "I'd never felt someone shake as violently as you did last night. I honestly wasn't sure you'd beat the poison. I kept checking your breathing when you weren't shaking just to make sure you were still with me." His eyes began to search yours, like he was making sure you really existed next to him.

With me. Your heart ached, this time for all the right reasons.

"I'm with you," you whispered back. The proximity of his face to yours allowed him to rest his forehead against yours and he closed his eyes. You wanted nothing more than to let him rest, but part of you wanted to soak this up as long as you could.

"Lune told me about your chats," you said quietly.

"Merde..." he laughed before pulling back a bit. You smiled and gripped his hand tighter.

"I'm sorry if I've been moody. I...was totally convinced that you and Lune had something going on."

"I royally fucked this up, haven't I?" He joked. You shook your head and reached for his jawline with your right hand. Your hand cupped his face and you swear his eyes melted at your contact.

"I don't remember when it happened, but these days one of the only things I'm sure of is that my heart belongs to you. I look at you and I'm sure that nothing else matters," you said shakily. He grasped your hand that was on his face and brought it to his lips, placing a light kiss on your knuckles.

"I remember exactly when it happened for me. You and Maelle were leading the charge on maybe my third day with your group. You were trying to cheer her up and kept showing her shapes you made with your ice magic. The way she finally broke when you made her that Esquie in a tiny hat... I'll never forget your smile or the kindness you showed her."

You'd actually forgotten that afternoon; it was distant compared to the trials you'd faced on your journey, but you smiled at the memory. That something so small could make him fall for you, but then you supposed it was just like the way you recounted the way he watched the sunset or the way he would re-challenge Sciel to cards when he lost.

It was all the small things.

"I, uh, I went looking for sunflowers today. Lune said they were your favorite," he grumbled. He leaned away to reach for the bouquet and presented it to you. "But I couldn't find any."

"Too early," you smiled. "They won't bloom until summer.

He smiled back as you accepted the flowers. "But I did find these other yellow ones that I thought maybe you'd like and then these lavenders - I remember you said purple was your favorite color. The kind of purple that fades into the sunset."

It was the most beautiful bundle of purples, whites, and yellows you'd ever hold. "It's perfect, Verso. I love them. I wish you'd have gotten some rest today, though."

He brought his arm around you, warming you against the early evening temperature. "I wouldn't have been able to anyways."

It was comfortable, the way his hand found your ribcage and his thumb moved up and down gently. You stared at the flowers while you allowed the weight of your head to rest against his shoulder. "My mom used to get sunflowers at the market every spring. She'd plant them in our roof garden and then every summer I'd watch them sprout until they were taller than me."

He chuckled and the vibrations from his chest brought a smile to your face. "It sounds like you were very fond of your mother."

You nodded and continued, "she used to say sunflowers were innocent. They always found the sun and when they couldn't find the sun, they would turn to each other. Sunflowers were truly always finding the light, whether literally or within each other. I always loved that."

Verso gently pulled away and brought his hand up to cup your cheek. The way his eyes crinkled looking into yours told you that he was truly happy.

"That's what you are to me - a sunflower. Your positive attitude and the way you continue to support the team will always make me turn to you, even when it's dark." His words made your eyes crinkle back and brought a toothy smile to your lips.

It wasn't until you felt him leaning towards you that you placed a hand on his chest to stop him. "Verso, this moment is literally perfect, but we can't kiss right now." His face turned to immediate confusion. "I'm pretty sure I threw up a dozen times in the last day and I have yet to clean myself up," you stated with a laugh.

Verso let out the loudest laugh you'd heard from him yet and he shook his head. He placed a kiss on your forehead and agreed, "Alright, no kiss tonight, but I'm looking forward to when I can properly romance you."

"Me too, and perhaps when Sciel isn't spying on us," you said loudly, turning to the rock formation where you knew she was listening.

"Putain!" She shrieked before running away. Both you and Verso laughed again before he rested his forehead against yours and you took in the miracle that was your sunflower.

#clair obscur #expedition 33 #clair obscur: expedition 33 #verso dessendre #verso fanfic #verso imagine #verso x reader #clair obscur fanfic #coe33 #verso #expedition 33 fanfic

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phanfictioncatalogue · 3 days ago

Note

Your favorite smut phanfics of all time?

Ah yes, you could say I’m quite the Connoisseur in this section. I do apologize that some may be repetitive. If anyone asks, I didn’t post this. Though I do think we should have a moment of silence for spring_haze.

Favorite recent smut fics:

a pair (ao3) - dipnpip

Summary: Dan fantasizes about the idea of becoming even more committed with Phil. It gets him a tad hot and bothered.

As He Comes, So I Come (ao3) - cloej88

Summary: Dan and Phil have just returned from Chicago, where they finally sorted themselves out. They’ve slept a full ten hours under their own roof, and now they have an uninterrupted afternoon to rediscover one another’s bodies.

get to heaven in our own sweet time (ao3) - jonsaremembers

Summary: Dan and Phil choose their costume for Halloween 2024. Yeah, it breaks the internet, but they only have eyes for each other.

Get Wrecked (ao3) - httphowell

Summary: Dan’s dreams have been haunted by a new version of Phil—blonde, bold, and unrelenting. When Phil refuses to stop asking about his dreams, Dan cracks, confessing every detail of how dream-Phil ruined him. Now, Phil is determined to see if he can make those dreams a reality.

in this smoking chaos (ao3) - writingcollective

Summary: Dan bottoms for the first time, not being able to shut down his inner demons that whisper internalised homophobic thoughts into his ear. But Phil guides him through it, somehow.

Incapacitated (ao3) - mermaidstailonmyface (louislittletomlintum)

Summary: the one where dan has a broken arm and needs help with washing his hair

Long distance loving (ao3) - harrysbabyboo

Summary: Dan’s on the American leg of the WE’RE ALL DOOMED TOUR and he and Phil have phone sex

make me feel (ao3) - blossomsphan

Summary: dan discovers a new use for his walk-in closet

our lips must always be sealed (ao3) - uhmyeah

Summary: dan and phil have silly tour sex

#tits out for #tit (ao3) - Merrydith

Summary: Phil is questioning his confidence, but when Dan suggests they try something new after a show, Phil flips the script and makes Dan see how confident he really is..

(A VERY dirty story, i am so so sorry)

Unbuttoned, Unbothered, Unstoppable (ao3) - httphowell

Summary: After their Terrible Influence Tour show, Dan and Phil return to their hotel room, where Phil, still buzzing with energy, lounges in a half-unbuttoned shirt, golden trousers, and a pair of ridiculous wolf ears. Dan wants to make fun of him, but instead, he finds himself staring, caught off guard by just how good Phil looks like that.

Inspired by that picture... yeah, you know what one I'm talking about (it's included if you don't know, come find out)

What If (ao3) - httphowell

Summary: Even though they’ve been together for over a decade, they still haven’t tied the knot. After reading lots of comments about wedding theories about them hiding their fingers, Dan suddenly craves the intimacy of pretending Phil is his husband for the night.

Favorite older smut fics:

A Different Kind of First Time (ao3) - adorkablephil (kimberly_a)

Summary: Phil has only ever had casual hook-ups in the past and so has never had sex without a condom. Now in a relationship with Dan, he experiences it for the first time.

After The Gig (ao3) - developerdaniel

Summary: aka the fic where dan and phil are lovers from rival bands in England in the 1980's and they cant get enough of each other after getting home from their gig

angel boy (ao3) - kae_karo

Summary: Aka the one where angel!Dan goes into a demon club looking for a bit of entertainment.

As You Please (ao3) - worriedpeach (skeletonflowers)

Summary: In which Dan ruins the mood during sex. Except he doesn't.

Baby It's Cold Outside, But I'll Keep You Warm (ao3) - Emejig16

Summary: It’s Dan’s first time and he’s nervous, but Phil comforts him.

Benefits (ao3) - Misha_with_wings

Summary: They never talked about it.

"It" being those nights where one or both of them just needed a release and they helped each other out.

Maybe they both secretly wished they were more than friends, but friendship did have its benefits.

can't help the itch to touch- to kiss. (ao3) - thescienceofphan

Summary: Phil is Deaf and Dan sleeps around a lot. So when people see them together, they worry about Phil’s emotional well being and shame on Dan for preying on a deaf boy, but it’s not like that. Not at all.

(or an AU where deaf!phil and playboy!dan are best friends and people think they’re dating)

Cast a Spell on You (ao3) - yellowlampshade

Summary: Hogwarts graduates Dan and Phil have been dating for three years, and that's fine with Dan except for one thing: they've never done anything sexual together. Dan thinks that maybe wearing Phil's jumper with some lace panties could change that.

(Hint: he's right.)

Choking On Your Alibi (ao3) - zinther

Summary: When Dan had first responded to a stranger’s roommate ad, he figured they’d be like acquaintances living together; simply exchanging pleasantries now and then. However as it happens they had quickly become good friends. But what will happen when Dan walks in on Phil hooking up with another guy?

Christmas Can’t Be Cancelled - jilliancares

Summary: Dan’s boarding school doesn’t allow the students to celebrate Christmas, so when they’re locked in their rooms for the day, Phil Lester makes sure to get locked in Dan’s room instead of his own.

Diary - i-love-phan-and-butts

Summary: Dan and Phil are playing his and seek when Phil hides in Dan’s closet and finds a load of sex toys and possibly a sex diary of dreams he’s had about Phil and Phil confronts Dan about it.

Don't Be Shy Love (ao3) - Emejig16

Summary: Dan walks in on Phil in the shower

Dress Me Up & Watch Me Go (ao3) - phandomsub

Summary: Dan is sick of Phil's grumpy mood, so he takes matters into his own hands by pulling out a pair of pretty rompers.

Duality (ao3) - melapplesphan

Summary: During the filming of their 2018 Easter baking video, Phil finds that he can’t stop staring at Dan’s curls and wishing he was wearing his pastel outfit, so he asks Dan to put it on for him. Or, how Phil finally stumbles onto the main reason why he gets so turned on during the late nights he and Dan spend baking. In which Phil has a thing for Pastel Dan, running his fingers through Dan’s curls, and telling Dan he’s beautiful. Equal parts fluff and smut.

Fuck Away The Pain (ao3) - Misha_with_wings

Summary: Phil’s boyfriend cheats on him leaving him a mix of sad, angry, and a million other unidentified emotions.

Luckily Dan was always there for him.

Give Me More (ao3) - Misha_with_wings

Summary: Who knew a lazy morning full of fluff and cuddles could turn into edging and overstimulation so quickly.

Glass Depth Mood (ao3) - worriedpeach (skeletonflowers)

Summary: 'I don't know you but we're wearing matching costumes at this Halloween party and your ass looks amazing in that costume'

Hearing You (ao3) - centroid (orphan_account)

Summary: They were laying on Phil’s couch, watching a movie. Maybe watching was a bad choice of words.

“You look so beautiful like this. Cheeks flushed, hair messed up, eyes blown. I love it.” Phil breathed, and Dan blushed more. A smile tugging at his lips, Dan brought his own to meet Phil’s once more in a single kiss.

‘I want you.’ Dan signed with a seductive glint in his eye.

“You look so pretty, sprawled out for me. Do you know how sexy you look?”

“Ah- Phil”

I can't get enough of you (ao3) - Misha_with_wings

Summary: Phil wakes up feeling extremely sexually frustrated and no matter how much he gets off it isn't enough.

Luckily Dan was more than willing to be Phil's human sex toy.

I love him (ao3) - Misha_with_wings

Summary: Phil had hidden who he really was for such a long time that he was scared of people knowing the truth.

Luckily Dan comes into his life, making him feel safe and so extremely happy.

Dan makes Phil feel less scared to be himself, and he finally feels comfortable and ready to come out and show the real side of him.

No more fear, no more secrets, no more hiding.

If I’m a Saint, Then Your Heaven - botanistlester

Summary: Phil is less than excited to start his Sex in the Bible course, but he can't bring himself to regret it when he meets a gorgeous angel dressed in all pink by the name of Dan.

In a Strange Room With a New Last Name (ao3) - yellowlampshade

Summary: The first thing Dan did after accepting the proposal was write to Chris.

Just days after turning eighteen, Dan is forced by his parents to accept a marriage proposal from an Alpha he's never met.

“Daniel? Daniel, wait, you don’t have to…” Philip was behind him, his hand on Dan’s to stop him from undressing, and he couldn’t be numb anymore. Every feeling hit him at once and suddenly he was crying and couldn’t stop. He brought his hands to his face to muffle his sobs, and this wasn’t how this was supposed to happen, it was so much better when he felt nothing because now everything hurt. He missed his room and his friends and his brother and Chris and he was so afraid of this.

into your glow (ao3) - kay_okay

Summary: “Me? I’m driving you crazy?” He pulls back and takes the beat to wrap his hands around Dan’s thighs, tug forcefully until Dan’s farther down the bed. “Do you even understand what you look like right now?”

Let Me Make It Up To You (ao3) - developerdaniel

Summary: aka a fic about after the 2012 incident and how Dan tries to apologise and make it up to Phil leading to beautiful smut of them making love to rekindle their love

Life in Death (ao3) - worriedpeach (skeletonflowers)

Summary: Dan, the God of Death, and Phil, the God of Life, have sex. Except sometimes, embarrassing things happen while Dan has Phil's cock in his ass.

Look in the Mirror (ao3) - worriedpeach (skeletonflowers)

Summary: As soon as Dan saw the mirrored ceiling in the back lounge of the tour bus, he knew he was in trouble.

Love me (ao3) - Misha_with_wings

Summary: Dan is cute and he knows it, and he really wants his boyfriends attention. So he decides to annoy Phil until he gets what he wants.

Lovestruck (Be the One to Take Me Home and Show Me the Sun) (ao3) - Emejig16

Summary: Dan has gone up north to visit Phil again. He meets and hangs out with some of Phil’s friends, before spending the some quality alone time with Phil back at his flat.

Only Fools Fall (ao3) - sinking_wthatship

Summary: Basically just awkward strangers Dan and Phil with lots of sexual tension but also emotional connection (sort of). SPOILER ALERT There is smut. And Tooth-rotting fluff. Lots of it.

Paper Cuts - jilliancares

Summary: Dan’s hands are covered in paper cuts, and masturbating has become entirely to difficult. Luckily Phil is there to help him.

Partner Project (ao3) - developerdaniel

Summary: aka the fic where dan and phil are partners for a uni class project and the project brings them together a little closer than just two class partners usually are.

Post-Tour Agenda (ao3) - blissedoutphil

Summary: They had lots of important things to do after the tour. Like sleep, for one. And sex. Also five months' worth of laundry. And what better way to decide who had to do laundry other than a sexy dan vs phil!

Quiet - cuddlephan

Summary: Cat stays at Dan and Phil’s, and Dan and Phil share a bed to make things easier but Dan wakes up with hard on/wet dream.

Sensations (ao3) - Misha_with_wings

Summary: Sure Dan and Phil usually kept their sex life fairly vanilla, but sometimes they’d play rough and Dan was a screamer and Phil loved taking control.

Sleepy Drawings - jilliancares

Summary: Dan is drowning is textbooks, and he can’t help it that he falls asleep in the library. Phil, an art major, can’t help it that he draws the sleeping boy, and neither of them can help the relationship that blooms.

Take it Slow (ao3) - Emejig16

Summary: A fluffy and smutty oneshot about Dan and Phil’s first time.

The Locker Room (ao3) - thewakeless

Summary: Dan and Phil meet and fuck in the University showers.

The Three A's of College: Alcohol, Assumptions, and Avoidances (ao3) - jilliancares

Summary: Dan loves a lot of things about college. The only thing he really doesn’t like is his horrible roommate. (And when his best friend accidentally outs him to said horrible roommate, it becomes Dan’s life mission to avoid him).

Truth or Truth (ao3) - developerdaniel

Summary: aka the fic were dan and phil come home from a night out to drink even more alcohol and play an edited game of truth or dare and end up confessing their feelings for each other which lead to them finally giving in to how much they've wanted each other for so long.

Typical (ao3) - Junebug1312

Summary: Dan and Phil hate each other. Everyone knows that. But what happens when Dan breaks both of his wrists and can't do certain things himself?

Also when has someone saying "prove it" ever actually worked as an invitation.

Weave Me Into Your Skin - botanistlester

Summary: When Phil finds a pair of panties mixed in with his and Dan’s laundry, he’s not sure what to think, consider he’s certain neither of them has brought home a girl in the past few weeks. What’s even stranger is what he finds in Dan’s room when he goes to inquire about the offending garment.

#answered #anonymous #phan #dan and phil

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serensama · 20 hours ago

Text

Thursday Banger: Dr, Who?

I can't believe how long we've managed to keep this up, what was just meant to be a funny/ridiculous meet-cute is turning into a fully fledged story O_O

My thanks to the incomparable @woundedsoul12 who created this tag - love you bebe! Thanks for the tag @jenn2d2 <3

Read on Ao3

(3.3k so yeah, LONG POST)

Rules for your Copy and Paste: Free form a blurb or drawing based on the weekly lyrics prompt. It doesn't have to include the prompt just whatever you're inspired to write, write it! Then tag some friends so they can play as well. It doesn't have to be finished on Thursday just post it whenever you can (you have a whole week between Thursdays).

"It's not a walk in the park to love each other, But when our fingers interlock, Can't deny, can't deny you're worth it" - Still Into You by Paramore

———

He had miscalculated. Again. What looked like a few casual steps from Illario's side became a forced march across polished floors and over-polished people, ending far too quickly in front of Viago, Teia, and their audience. He really should have taken the long way around. Teia and Viago greeted him with cordial smiles and chatter he barely caught over the pounding heartbeat in his ears. “...I’m thrilled for Teia and for Dellamorte Holdings, of course, it’s a great deal for both companies. But I forget my manners, Lucanis, please meet esteemed Professor Emmrich Volkarin and my little sister, Lilya de Riva,” Viago said, gesturing to the people to his right, noticing the strained smiles on those he had just introduced. Lucanis cleared his throat and nodded gratefully, not wanting to give too much gossip to any prying listeners around him.

“Ah, thank you, Viago,” he finally replied, taking another sip of his drink. “We’ve… uh… we’ve all previously met,” he said, trying to ignore the way Teia’s eyes gleamed sinisterly as she mouthed something to Lilya which could have been ‘oh that’s him’, ‘so bad, Tim’ or ‘throw that thing’... he really needed to work on his lip reading, something he and Illario learnt one summer as children to spy on Caterina. “It’s a pleasure to see you here, Professor.”

His therapist smiled and raised a glass of champagne in his direction. “A marvellous evening, Lucanis. What a wonderful celebration, a triumph on all fronts!” Lucanis turned stiffly to Lilya, who looked two shades paler than she had only a minute prior, knuckles white as she clung to the Professor’s arm. The only way one would notice that Emmrich felt any discomfort was from the tightness in his eyes and smile.

“Dr … uh, Lilya? Nice to see you again,” he said stiffly, bowing slightly, which only seemed to delight Teia but confused her date, who was looking between them all suspiciously. “I didn’t realise that you were Viago’s sister,” he added lamely, like that mattered at all.

Lilya shook her head and waved her hands at the same time with a stricken expression, taking a step forward and bracing a hand on his shoulder, only causing her brother to give them an even fouler look as Teia practically buzzed beside him. “No, of course. Why would you know that? I’m not one to tell anyone he’s my brother. Ever,” she said pointedly, casting a harsh look at Viago, who matched it evenly.

Lucanis laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I get the feeling, it’s the same with my cousin, Illario.” Lilya turned another shade paler and released him, wringing her hands together worriedly. “I… I was hoping to actually speak to you, if you had the time,” he said, finding his courage and offering his hand with a bow, like he was asking her to dance. “Please.”

Lilya looked between him and Emmrich, unsure of what to do, worrying at her bottom lip. Her eyes flicked to Viago. He was already watching her, mouth pressed into a warning line, jaw working like he was ready to intervene. She shook her head once, small but firm, and gave him a tiny smile- I'm alright, stay out of it. Viago’s nostrils flared. But he gave a tight nod back, conceding to her, a rare occasion indeed. “I- we should. We should talk-”

“That sounds like a great idea, Lilya. Go and get to know Lucanis,” Teia grinned, reaching over and taking the drinks out of both of their hands. “In fact, you should go dance! You can talk and dance at the same time!”

“No I-”

“Please, Lilya.”

“I-”

“If my sister is not feeling up to it-” Viago started, only to be quieted by his lover’s iron-like grip on his forearm.

“I think Lilya really wants to speak to him, Vi,” she grinned with a crazed look in her eye.

“We will, Lucanis,” Lilya finally answered, lightly touching his bicep with a concerned expression. “But this may not be the best place or time-”

Professor Volkarin coughed dramatically, clearing his throat and examining his nails.

“...Professor?” Lilya looked at him from the corner of her eyes expectantly.

“Oh? Hmm, if you two feel up for a chat and a quick spin around the ballroom, I’d say that’s exactly the right way to catch up,” he said, voice light but edged with that familiar no-nonsense tone she remembered from when he caught an Honours student plagiarising half his paper. Emmrich had warned him that there were to be no excuses, or the student would be back in First Year before the week was out. Who knew such quiet authority could come wrapped in so much kindness?

“But… I don’t want to cause any more harm.”

Lucanis smiled, re-extending his hand out to her. “You didn’t, and no harm can come from a dance between two old friends.”

Lilya nodded and looked back at Emmrich who took her purse from her, quickly whispering in her ear that perhaps fate had different ideas as to how and when it would be best for them to talk- and that he was always there to help Lucanis should he be needed. After taking a moment to smooth out her dress and wipe her sweaty palms on the fine material, she nodded and accepted his hand, shooting final looks at Teia, who flashed her a thumbs up. Viago glared at Lucanis, and Professor Volkarin gave her an encouraging smile.

He led her onto the floor just as the band played a tune they could waltz to, a respectful distance kept between them, both stiff and awkward in each other’s presence. Lilya was thankful that they were in a brightly lit area, so no one could claim she was doing anything untoward with him. Lucanis started the dance, and she followed easily, as etiquette and ballroom dancing lessons from her youth, which had seemed utterly irrelevant in her past, finally found some use.

They turned about the room, Lilya focused on counting the steps and following the beat instead of paying attention to Lucanis, who looked just as uncomfortable as she did. She was tempted to break the tension, but he was the one who wanted to talk, so she would let him end their silence. He knew that was how she worked… even if she was no longer his therapist.

“I-” he said, unsure of where to start, only to be startled when Lilya looked up at him, her eyes wide and alert at being spoken to.

“Yes?”

“Oh…” he said, eyes falling onto hers, the wheels in his quick mind churning a mile a minute as he joined the final pieces together. “I… well, that is to say… I’m doing well, Dr de Riva.”

Lilya’s eyebrows turned upward and her lips pouted, belying her gratitude under such a sorrowful countenance. “That’s so good to hear, Lucanis, I’m glad for you.”

“I know. I know you are.” He lightly squeezed her right hand in his in a reassuring grip.

“You have to know, I never meant to hurt you, or do anything that could have potentially hurt you at all. You were my patient, and your well-being meant, means, everything to me. Even though you are no longer under my care,” she said quietly enough, so only he could hear. Lucanis smiled in response and squeezed her hand again to confirm he had heard her, spinning her gracefully and pulling her back in, glad to see her shoulders relax a little. “If I had known he was your cousin, I would have never-”

“Dr… Lilya. It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not okay-”

“Lilya,” he said more firmly to make her stop and really listen to him. “It’s okay.”

She shut her mouth after a moment, still staring at him, stunned. “You don’t have to make me feel better about this, that’s not your job, Lucanis. It was a mistake, and I regret the effect it may have had on you. But at the very least, I am glad you have Professor Volkarin in your corner.”

“And he’s been amazing, the only good thing that’s come out of this, really,” he said, wanting to soothe her worry. Lilya looked him in the eyes again, and a knowing smile began to form on his lips.

“Oh, there they are again,” he said mysteriously, chuckling to himself. “So obvious, really.”

“What? What’s here? What’s obvious?” she asked, curious as to what he was talking about.

“... Green,” he replied, tapping under his eye, which further confused her, as the woman looked around the room for a clue.

“Oh, you mean the decoration? Yes. It’s beautiful, so verdant and bright, a lovely choice, really,” she complimented- and she meant it. Whoever had decorated the room had an eye for beauty and style.

“Yes, you are very correct. Bright. Lovely choice,” he laughed, shaking his head with mirth, the woman clearly not understanding the theme had been inspired by her, by someone completely taken by the colours in her eyes.

Lilya shook his hand like an impatient child, a large smile on her face as she fought for his attention. “Lucanis Dellamorte, you must tell me what is so funny.”

Lucanis smiled at her so earnestly that she felt such a weight lift off her shoulders. The man had always been so expressive; she knew that he wasn’t trying to deceive her - he truly was well, and he didn’t hate her for what she had unwittingly done to him. “Dr de Riva, Lilya, it’s alright, you know.”

“What is?” she asked, not following his train of thought.

“I’m alright, with whatever happens moving forward. Whatever you choose. Whatever he chooses, I’m alright with it. I support it- support you both. I didn’t realise that you weren’t just another one of his careless flings. I thought he did it because he was being reckless again, or selfish, or he just didn’t care about the consequences of his actions… but now I know. I know that for a little while there, it was me being careless, me being selfish for not giving him a chance to explain, to understand. And I care, I don’t want that for him. Or for you. If the only reason you two aren’t dancing together right now is because of me, I don’t want that at all. I want the people I care about to be happy.”

Lilya slowed their turn and set her fingertips more firmly on his shoulder. “Lucanis, be honest. When you first saw me tonight … were you angry?”

His brows drew together, and his mouth opened, but he shut it quickly before nodding once. “For a moment, yes. Not at you. At everything. At myself.”

“Ah.” She let out a soft breath, half relief, half remorse.

He squeezed her hand and coaxed her back into the pattern of the waltz. “It passed. Shock can resemble anger - you told me that once, remember? The second it cleared, I was glad you were here. A little confused why, certainly, but happy all the same.”

“Happy?” The word came out small, incredulous.

“Of course,” his voice steadied. “You helped me reach this point. Seeing you across the room, how could that bring anything but happiness?”

Her shoulders loosened; colour crept back into her cheeks, a small but genuine smile pulling at her mouth at his kind words.

Lucanis felt the cold distance between them slip. Her sincerity shone through her awkwardness, and for a moment, he could almost pretend she was across from him again, just talking, like she used to, as someone he trusted. Someone who had only ever wanted to help him.

Lilya almost forgot how to stand; her patient, ex-patient, had confirmed everything she had dared to think of asking him without having to breathe a word.

“You… I will not deny that I do harbour some feelings toward him, but he isn’t my concern. Do you understand what you’re saying? What you’re consenting to? This isn’t something you should think so lightly about, Lucanis. Take a moment. Take a day, a week- even a year, or two! I will abide by whatever you say with no ill will. My private life is not up to you to save, okay? Do not do this because of any concern for me or my well-being, or a misplaced belief that you need to agree to anything because of our past. You need to do what is comfortable and what feels right to you.”

Lucanis spun her again and pulled her back in, a wry smile on his face.

“You taught me to speak my mind and my truth. Professor Volkarin has expanded upon that. And if I am allowed happiness, I should be able to grant the same opportunity to those I love. And... I love him. Even if he’s a pain in my ass, he’s always been my brother.”

“This is not about him or me, but you. Don’t say things on a whim or because you think it’s what I want to hear-”

“Doctor… seeing him unhappy for the last six months has not brought me joy.”

“Oh, no, of course not-”

“It’s a little hard, knowing you think I’m doing this for the wrong reasons. I chose this because it feels right, not because I’m slipping back into my old patterns. When you question that, it almost feels like you don’t see how much I’ve grown.”

Lilya wanted to hug him, but gathered herself swiftly. “I’m making a mess of this, I’m so sorry, Lucanis-”

“Yes, this is a mess. But trust me when I say, from the deepest parts of myself, that I am okay. I am good. That whatever happens between you two is fine by me, so please let me step aside. Do not make me a part of your decision process moving forward because you already know where I stand on this-”

“Please, think on this some more-”

“Oh, that’s Caterina-”

“If you have to go, we can continue this later-”

“No need- here, take over, will you? Caterina’s calling for me. So sorry, Lilya. I’ll speak to you soon, yes? Good to see you again!” Lucanis said hurriedly, manoeuvring her hands into someone’s hold as she nodded absently and tracked his path through the crowd toward Caterina Dellamorte. The woman stood with a stoic look on her face, but her sharp gaze shifted the moment Lucanis approached, cutting past him to land squarely on Lilya and her new dance partner.

She had barely noticed whose hands Lucanis had placed hers into until the hold changed, gentler and a little uncertain.

Of course. Illario. Of course.

Somewhere behind them, Lilya heard Teia make a noise suspiciously like a barely stifled cackle. When she glanced back, Teia raised her champagne flute and clinked it lightly against Viago’s glass, not even pretending it was accidental. Her friend’s eyes sparkled, triumphant and far too entertained at her expense, focused on them like a cat watching a pair of mice stumble into the same trap and licking her lips at the deliciousness of it all.

Teia caught her gaze and mouthed, ‘Illario?’ with an arched brow, a grin, and an exaggerated wink that left little doubt she was thrilled. Lilya spun quickly away, her cheeks warm. She knew she owed her a very long debrief once this night was over.

She felt Illario's breath on her cheek... warm and close. And what startled her most wasn’t the nearness, but how easy it was. How natural it felt to be in his arms again. That realisation struck deeper than she expected. Her fingers tightened by reflex, stiffening as if to pull away, something he noticed immediately. A flicker of doubt crossed his face, like he was bracing for her to disappear again. For a second, he didn’t move at all, holding her as lightly as he could, unsure of what to do next.

But she didn’t step away.

Their eyes met, and something held there between them, raw and irrepressible. Slowly, deliberately, he shifted his grip, his sapphire eyes connected to her pale emerald. He slid his fingers between hers, weaving them together instead of resting palm to palm. It was no longer a formal hold. It was a memory, a reach, a quiet liberty taken. Scandalous, though she didn’t stop him… She let him. And for one quiet second, her ache to stay close overwhelmed the whispers of caution in her mind.

The touch settled between them with a weight it shouldn’t have carried. It wasn’t possessive, nor was it laced with hope. It was simply... sincere and unguarded. Their eyes locked, speaking volumes in the silence. Perhaps because neither knew the words, impossible to find in the moment, or because they feared that it would change everything for them once again. They had craved this, yet both were terrified that admitting it would shatter the fragile thread holding them together. To speak, would be to question, to confront a dangerous truth and hear answers they were both too delicate to risk just yet.

The band swept over their silence with a slow three-count. He guided her into the first turn, his posture immaculate, eyes dark, mouth tight, as if the measured steps of the dance were the only ‘words’ he could trust himself to voice.

Lilya thought she heard the click of a camera and whispers of her name, but she was probably just being paranoid. It didn’t matter. The delusion of privacy was shattered all the same. It was too public here. They were not cloaked in a shadowy club this time, surrounded by the safety of anonymity and faceless bodies who did not care about them; here, they were the show.

Their first turn of the floor was stiff.

One two three, one two three.

He left a polite inch of air between them in case she drew back.

One two three, one two three.

She counted beats because numbers were safer than emotions.

One two three, one two three.

The second turn had them soften in each other’s presence. Illario’s thumb brushed the back of her hand in a soundless question - is this okay?Lilya let her left hand settle on his shoulder, relaxing in his hold. With each step, they recalled what they had tried to bury and ignore. He moved her through a gentle pivot, and she followed without thought. The intimacy of their position was sweet and sharp, both of them teetering perilously on the edges of their good judgment once again.

The lights and discerning gazes reminded them both of the rules that still applied to them- not here, not now, not yet. Every shimmer of the chandelier felt like a spotlight; every whisper, a possible dagger in their backs. They danced on a stage where one wrong move could unravel them both.

Their final turn carried them past Viago’s guarded stare and Teia’s curious smile. Lucanis sat at the bar, resolute and unburdened, with Professor Volkarin beside him, proud of his patient and happy for his student.

The silence between them was louder than the music, thick with their tempered longing. The final notes from the band faded, and polite applause rippled across the room, giving way to cheery but inane chatter. Illario and Lilya lingered in place, barely breathing, hands still linked. She hadn’t noticed that she had stopped counting. Just that the dance was over, and she was still standing in his arms. Both caught between caution and hope, each waiting for the other to pull back first. Neither was ready to move away… or on. Not yet.

“Would you… Would you like to dance with me… once more, I mean?” Illario rasped, licking his lips like a man who had just been offered his first drop of water after being asleep for far too long.

Lilya nodded and shifted her hand more securely in his, taking a half step closer to him.

“Yes. Yes, Illario. I would like to dance with you.”

--- Softly tagging: @rookamell @davrinsleftpectoral @mythals-whore @thedissonantverses @talkmagically @kabsey @hedwigoprah @jukkaricity @seaglassmelody @blackwall-my-tiny-husband @serstolas @selennes @trash-nerd @gingervitus @hightowerqueen and anyone else who wants to play! :)

#thursday bangers #illario dellamorte #Illario x rook #illarook #Lucanis Dellamorte #some edits we die like men #emmrich volkarin #teia cantori #viago de riva #dragon age the veilguard #dragon age fanfic #LONG POST

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slvqtore · 1 day ago

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⟢ pairing. george weasley x fem!gryffindor reader ⟢ summary. you unfortunately got paired up with george for potions class. ⟢ grumpy x sunshine. reader (sort of) despises george. reader being in denial. ⟢ wc. 3,2k

“alright everyone, i want all of you to make any potion i’ve taught you this year so far. now, this is worth 20% of your grade, so i expect the best. and lastly, they will be done with pairs.” professor slughorn announced as he clasped his hands together. quiet murmurs could be heard, some students already had a partner in mind, others glanced around awkwardly, while some are even scared they might not have a partner.

you, however, are one of those people who already had a partner in mind. turning to hermione, you mouthed; “wanna be together?” she grinned and nodded happily, giving you a thumbs-up. but just as you turned your head around, your heart immediately dropped.

“boo!”

you yelped in surprise before quickly frowning once you saw who it was. “george! that’s not funny, you nearly gave me a heart attack!” you snapped, brows knitting in rage. and instead of apologizing, he laughed. of course he did. he couldn’t help it, he just loved seeing your face flushed with anger. “got ya good, didn’t i?” your jaw clenched as you smacked his forearm as he tried his best to dodge your attacks—while still grinning like an idiot.

though, professor slughorn didn’t even give you the chance to throw another attack at george, because apparently, he wasn’t done talking. “ah, don’t get too excited now! i will be choosing your partner.” professor slughorn added, causing everyone to groan, while some celebrated quietly. you, too, groaned with the others. “right then! let me see..”

professor slughorn then scanned the classroom carefully, slightly squinting from time to time. everyone held their breaths. “ah, yes—yes.. hermione granger you shall be paired up with dean thomas.” hermione nodded, for all she could think of was how grateful she was not to be paired up with a fellow slytherin as they had potions class with slytherin.

“pansy parkinson will be with.. let’s see here—ah, yes, lavender brown, that is!” and the list went on, and on.. ‘til it was down to the four of you; you, seamus, ron, and lastly, george. with each passing moment, your heart pounded loudly in your chest nervously. you prayed silently professor slughorn would pick ron as your partner. you suppose seamus would be fine, too. as long as it’s anyone but george.

“ah, george! you’d make an absolute pair for y/n!” and in that moment, you could feel your stomach drop. you grimaced as you sighed in defeat, already sensing his presence magically appear beside you. “uh-uh, don’t get any closer now.” you turned to your left, pressing your index finger on his shoulder to stop him from leaning in on you any further. “delighted to see me, i can tell.” he said with a smug smirk plastered across his stupid face.

you rolled your eyes as you ignored him, averting your attention to professor slughorn who was currently explaining about the rules and precautions. george, however, didn’t stop there. he continued and continued to pester you—a light tap on your quill, humming a ridiculous tune, whistling quietly.. you name it. and it made you lose your patience with each passing second.

“will you just shut up for a moment? i’m trying to focus here so that we don’t fail!” you whispered sharply at george, minding your voice as you didn’t want to cause a scene in front of everybody. “right, right. forgive me, love. don’t want us blowing up the dungeons.” he held up his hands in mock surrender, eyes wide filled with fake guilt. you groaned, dropping your head onto the table with a quiet thump in pure frustration and annoyance.

you didn’t know how long you could survive being in the same room with him for even one more minute.

and at last, class finally ended after what felt like decades. however, unfortunately for you, you still had a potion to make which automatically leaves you the whole day with george.

lucky you.

after a short and mildly painful discussion (mostly you trying to suggest literally anywhere else), you both agreed to work on the potion in an empty classroom in the dungeons, not far from slughorn’s classroom, a space just quiet enough to focus. it was apparently the old potions’ classroom, before they moved it 2 classrooms away for some reason.

“couldn’t we have done this anywhere else?” you asked with concern, hands filled with everything you needed to brew up a felix felicis; a potion also known as the liquid luck. george, who had a cauldron under his one arm like it weighed nothing, simply shrugged. “we could have. but then it wouldn’t be nearly as fun.” he quipped, glancing over so that his gaze landed on you.

a second, then two, then three.. but he wouldn’t stop staring at you, as if although he’s doing it on purpose.

“quit staring, would you?” you snapped, tilting your head so you’d be facing him. “why should i? you look absolutely stunning when you’re irritated.” his lips then curled in a playful smirk, clearly pleased with himself. but even after you scolded at him, he still wouldn’t stop staring. and for some odd reason, very odd actually, you felt your ears burn.

and to your dismay, he picked up on it. he then leaned in, far too close, until you could feel his warm breath against your ear. “is it just me,” he murmured, voice low and filled with mischief. “or are your ears turning red?”

“ew, get away from me, freak!” you shoved his face away as he erupted into laughter, no doubt that he was very much well entertained. you, on the other hand were beyond pissed—although, your burning face told otherwise. “you’re insufferable. no wonder you haven’t got a girlfriend.” you muttered, turning around the corner of the castle halls, indicating that you and george would be arriving anytime soon.

“no worries, you’ll be my first—and last.” he teased, wiggling his eyebrows as a cheeky smirk played on his lips. you simply rolled your eyes, letting out an annoyed huff. though, deep down you felt a tinge of.. something you didn’t want to examine too closely. embarrassed? flustered? perhaps. whatever it was, you refused to give it a name. “well, in order for that to happen is if you would’ve drugged me into taking an amortentia. (love potion).” you said dryly, shooting him a sideway glare.

“ouch, that was mean.” he clutched his chest in mock offense, as if although you had pierced his heart. you didn’t even bother to reply. instead, you pushed open the door open to the classroom, being immediately greeted by a cloud of dust swirling through the air. you waved your hands, attempting to clear it out with a grimace.

“lovely, ain’t it?” george said as he followed behind, setting down the cauldron with a loud clang on an empty table that echoed off the stone walls. you, too, set down your things on the table with a huff. your arms felt a great sense of relief the moment they were freed from the weight. “now, let’s get this over with.” you murmured, rolling up your sleeves as you flipped open advanced potion making.

george peered over your shoulder, “blimey, this looks cheerful.” the instructions were dense, annotated with tiny scribbles and warnings that left no room for error. “It’s notoriously difficult. slughorn said if we mess up even one step, we’ll end up with something closer to liquid disaster than liquid luck.” you stated, voice carried with caution, and just the slightest hint of dread.

and obviously, george being.. well, george, didn’t seem fazed at all. “guess we better get it right, then. i quite like my eyebrows where they are.” you gave him a dry look in return, clearly unamused by his lame joke. “ha-ha, very funny. though, you might want to say goodbye to them just in case.” you retorted before diverting your attention back to the potion. you flipped to the next part of the instructions, scanning each step carefully.

“alright,” you muttered, more to yourself than him, “looks like ashwinder egg’s up first.” george then reached for the jar, unscrewing the lid with a dramatic flourish. “here you go, love.” you’d be lying if you said your stomach wasn’t doing a small, ridiculous flip at the nickname. no matter how casually he threw it around.

snap out of it! this is preposterous, absolutely preposterous.

you snatched the jar almost immediately, shooting him a glare. “don’t—call—me—love.” you said through gritted teeth, using irritation as a flimsy cover for the heat rising in your face. “right, noted. i’ll be sure not to use that name next time, darling.” he said, grinning wickedly. you could feel your cheeks burn, and you weren’t sure whether it was because you were fuming, flustered, or embarrassed. or possibly, all three combined. you quickly raised your hand up, threatening to smack him as he ducked down dramatically to avoid your wrath.

“right, got it!” he laughed with a hand shielding his face. “sorry—won’t happen again.” still fuming with anger, you chose to ignore him instead, resuming whatever you were doing before, grabbing the next ingredient with slightly more force than necessary.

the cauldron bubbled steadily now, steam curling into the air as the mixture began to shift in color. you stirred precisely, counting the seconds under your breath, trying to refocus.

“need any help?” he inched closer, shoulders brushing against yours. he may not have know it, but just by this simple, yet affective gesture, your heart strangely started to beat faster.. and faster, until it felt like it might just explode.

you gulped nervously. “um, yeah. just keep stirring slowly for.. for about a minute, then.. heat the cauldron—yeah.” you didn’t know what overcame you, but you couldn’t even form a sentence without stumbling over your own words. and you felt like you wanted to die of embarrassment. never, never, in your life had you stuttered. and now you’re stuttering in front of george? how absurd!

you tried your best as to not have a full-on panic attack as you glued your eyes at the cauldron, determined not to look at him. “you alright there? you seem a bit wobbly,” he remarked, annoyingly delighted. you let out a forced-dry laugh, completely obvious that it was fake. “pfft, what on earth are you blabbering about? i’m fine.” your voice sounded more defensive than it ought to be.

he let out a small chuckle, “right, then.” with that, he turned back to the cauldron and began stirring while you distracted yourself by pretending to read the instructions. you were too busy with your thoughts that you didn’t realize that george was stirring in the wrong direction, and far too quickly—opposite of what the book instructed. “you’re doing it wrong, you prat.” you said, instantly reaching for the ladle.

you hadn’t quite realized it yet, but your hand laid atop his as you demonstrated him how to stir properly—clockwise, and slowly. at this moment, he wasn’t even paying attention to your blabber about why he should stir it properly and whatnots. his gaze was entirely fixed on yours.

“—and if you stir it counterclockwise while it’s still simmering, it’ll basically explode in our faces,” you finished, finally glancing up to meet his eyes, who were already on yours. the second your gazes met, you looked away in record time before quickly pulling back your arm as realization flooded. “i—sorry.” you quickly muttered an apology, cheeks as red as the color of your robes.

he blinked. “no—uh—‘s alright.“ for the first time since you step foot into hogwarts, never, ever, had you heard the george weaseley stumble over his own words. it was as if although just for the slightest moment, the ever-so-smug, unshakable joker had short circuited. “right, then..” you started, voice still tinged with awkwardness as you reached for the next jar, trying far too hard to act normal, as if the most embarrassing and awkward moment had just not happened. “next step is powdered rue. just a pinch.”

── .✦

around two dreadful hours later—thanks to a failed first batch, the two of you finally managed to brew a passable-looking felix felicis. you both leaned over the cauldron, eyeing the glimmering gold liquid that shimmered softly under the dim light of the dungeon. “well,” george started, exhaling as he folded his arms. “looks like we won’t be exploding today. bit of a shame, really.”

you gave him a tired side glance, arching your brow. “speak for yourself. i quite like my eyebrows the way they were, thanks.” you said dryly, repeating the same sentence he’d thrown at you two hours ago. “ah, see what you did there. but c’mon, admit it. you had fun.” you snorted softly, picking up an empty vial. “if by fun you mean almost failing potions and having to spend two hours straight with you, then yes. loads of it.”

“you’re cruel. d’you know that?” he clutched his chest dramatically. you let out a small chuckle despite yourself, shaking your head as you began gathering the scattered ingredients on the table. see, he’d never admit this—but seeing you chuckle at his jokes instead of being annoyed with it, it made his chest flutter. you laughed. at him. and he clearly took it as a personal victory.

“was that a laugh i hear?” he quipped, nudging you slightly by the shoulders. “thank the lord! turns out you can laugh after all.” he added, a playful glint coating his eyes. you rolled your eyes, trying not to smile as you grabbed the last ingredient on the table. he mirrored your actions and grabbed the cauldron before carefully lifting the felix felicis. he then opened the door before you, giving a dramatic bow. “ladies first.” he winked, causing you to scrunch your face in disgust jokingly before you marched through anyway.

“graceful as ever,” he muttered, following close behind with a cauldron in one hand and the vial tucked safely in his pocket. the two of you didn’t exactly walk in silence. it was mostly filled with george humming a stupid tune and occasional remarks here and there, which to no one’s surprise—you ignored. but that for sure didn’t last too long since your patience was running out pretty quickly.

“one more word, and i swear i’ll—”

“what, hex me? throw your textbook at my head? honestly, worth it.” he wiggled his eyebrows, clearly unbothered, dare you might say even more entertained by your growing annoyance. “you’re unbelievable.” you muttered under your breath. if only your arms weren’t full, you would’ve smacked him by the head by now.

instead, you were clumsily hauling what felt like half the apothecary, ingredients clinking in your arms as you tried not to drop anything. “alright there, love? need a hand?” he asked once he saw how you struggled with the supplies. “i’m fine,” you lied, fully knowing that all you needed was someone to take even one jar off your hands before you shattered it all across the corridor.

“you’re many things but a great liar,” he chuckled lowly, grabbing two jars and a textbook from your arms before they could slip. you scowled, shifting the remaining weight with a huff. “i could’ve handled that.”

“oh, no doubt.” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm and mockery, to which you rolled your eyes at.

by the time you reached the grand staircase just below the gryffindor common room, you were exhausted, sore, and seconds from losing it entirely. one more flight and you’d be free—free from george, from potion ingredients, and from this absolute nightmare of an evening. you practically drooled just by the thought of your soft mattress on your four-poster bed.

however, your little thoughts were soon interrupted. because apparently, God had other plans.

right as you stepped off the moving staircase and onto the landing near the common room, your foot caught the edge of the step—stupid slippery stone—and you stumbled forward with a startled yelp, your arms flailing as everything threatened to spill out of them. george reacted fast, catching you by the elbow and steadying you before you could faceplant onto the floor.

“falling for me already, i see.” you immediately yanked your arm from his grasp with a glare, cheeks and ears flushed with heat from embarrassment and—unmistakably how flustered you were. “eugh, get your filthy hands off of me!” you hissed while also trying to maintain your balance. this, however, only made him laugh even harder.

and oh, you were pissed. not particularly because he’s made you a laughing stock, but more so because you were angry at yourself. it was so easy for him to get to you—you feel these unfamiliar and strange feelings whenever he’s around and you hated it. out of all people, why george weasley? that one person who never failed to irritate you, who lived to be a walking distraction, and who never took things seriously, quite the opposite of who you were.

“you know, if you wanted an excuse to collapse dramatically into my arms, you could’ve just asked.” you scoffed, bending to grab the jar that had rolled toward the banister before he followed soon after, helping you gather some of the things that had fallen.

once you gathered everything, you finally looked up, only to see george already having a ridiculous grin plastered across his dim-witted face. you could only groan upon seeing him, however as much as you despised it, that foolish smile never failed to make your stomach flutter.

── .✦

sleep didn’t come easily that night. you tossed and turned countless times, and no matter how much you tried, you just couldn’t get him outside your head. it was infuriating. you felt as if you were a madman. “stop, stop, stop!” you screamed onto your pillow, banging your head against it several times in hopes it could stop you from thinking about him.

thank god everyone here was a heavy sleeper, if not, they’d all probably be awake by now and you would’ve got kicked out in no time. you groaned in annoyance as your face sunk onto the pillow.

this is absolutely ridiculous.

you dramatically kicked your blanket off from pure frustration. “for goodness’ get out of my head!” you dragged a hand down your face. the more you tried to get him out of your head, the more he came. oh, you just couldn’t stop thinking about his stupid smile on his ridiculously attractive face, and that outrageous red hair that looked irritatingly appealing. and you really shouldn’t be thinking about his voice—all smooth and teasing and infuriatingly charming.

you groaned once more, flipping onto your stomach and muffling a scream into your pillow. “he’s not even that funny,” you whispered to yourself, and deep down you knew that was a big lie. “he’s not even that good-looking. in fact, he’s the worst looking weasley of all time.” you, again, tried so hard to convince yourself, but you obviously knew this was yet another big lie. you slammed your pillow over your head.

that’s it. you’ve completely gone mental.

#harry potter x reader #harry potter #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fluff #hp fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #george weasley x reader #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley x you #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x fem #george weasley #george weasley fanfic #george weasley x fem!reader #george weasley imagine #george weasley fluff #george weasley oneshot

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cardiohiphopgroovesitisthen · 1 day ago

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Exposed.

Eddie x human fic

Angst, slow burn 🔥

Part 3

Cleaning up with Eddie is oddly easier than getting him to drink with you. He seems to enjoy the repetitive tasks. He is practiced and poised with his black apron flung around his waist and sleeves rolled up to his biceps. You begged him to let you help, but now it’s taking real effort to not get distracted by the shape of his shoulders under his shirt when he tells you where the dishes go and which direction to face everything. Other than his instructions, the only thing between you is the sound of the running tap and the clinking glasses. You don’t mind the silence, though. It’s peaceful watching him work. He holds each glass up to the low lights to check for smudges and he washes every strainer twice to make sure the fruit pulp is gone. It’s nice to see the satisfied look on his face with every newly cleaned dish. Out of nowhere, he says something that makes you feel suddenly self conscious.

“You’ve got it wrong about Volt, by the way - about him only knowing who he is when he’s with other people.”

“Oh. I-“

“No, it’s fine. I just…I don’t want you leaving here with the wrong idea of him.” Your instinct tells you that this is a listening moment. “I just want you to understand that…Volt is pure. He’s not hiding or putting on a mask. Whatever he says, he means it. And if he doesn’t mean it, it’s probably for your own good anyway. All he ever does is reach out to people…and make sure they’re okay. All this showmanship when he’s running around the club…he just wants everyone to have a good time. There’s nothing else to it.”

“He sounds like a great guy from your point of view. I guess that explains why you’re such good friends.”

“Yeah. That explains everything…” The sound of his voice trailing off elicits a vivid image of a tin can sliding ever deeper into a bunker pantry. And that can is labeled ‘worms’. “I just needed you to know that. He’s not some aimless jerk looking to break the next heart or use someone to hide from himself. That’s not him. Trust me.” He looks at you, conviction in his eyes .

“I do.”, you say, and he looks relieved to hear it. “He must mean a lot to you.”

“He’s…all I have.”

You nod as if you understand but you know that you don’t. When Eddie talks about Volt, there’s so much love. But there’s also something else, something deep and dark. Like regret. Or jealousy. Or guilt. It’s like it hurts him just to talk about Volt sometimes. “Thank you. I misjudged him. I’m glad that I get the chance to see him in a new light. I’ll try to see him from your perspective.”

“That would be…something.” The glass he’s washing suddenly slips out of his hands. He reaches down to pick it up, but it’s already shattered in the sink. Before he can pull his hand away, he shoves it right into a shard of glass. “Dammit!” He clutches it to his chest.

“Here!” You grab a clean towel and hold his hand in it. “How bad is it? I’ll call Farya!”

He reaches for your elbow to stop you. “No, no, it’s not necessary. Look, I’m fine.”

“Eddie, we have to get you help, you might need stitches.”

“Would you please relax? I’ll just put some tape on it, it’ll be good as new.”

“Tape? Are you crazy?”

“I said I’m-”

“Eddison.”

“What? The fuck?”

“Eddison Watts, you are hurt and you need help and I am going to go get you some. So help me, if you are not here when I get back-“

“What, you’ll spank me?”

“I will unscrew every damn thing in this bar; do you understand?”

“This is ridiculous.”

“And THEN I’ll spank you.”

“Well do you want me to stay put or not, I’m getting mixed signals.”

“Shut the fuck up and stay here!”, you shout, half way out the door already.

When you come back with Farya, Eddie is sitting on a bar stool, a roll of electrical tape on the bar next to him. You roll your eyes at the tape. “You couldn’t help yourself?” He just smirks at you.

“Eddie! I have been told that you have injured your hand, is that true?”

“And you should have been applying pressure this whole time! Ugh Eddie you’ve probably bled through the towel by now.”

Eddie holds his hand up, copper wire and circuitry exposed, and not a drop of blood to be seen. You stop in your tracks. There’s something in his face - a ‘there it is’ expression that silences you for most of Farya’s visit. While you’re deep in thought, Eddie’s raised voice catches your ear.

“Aren’t you supposed to make me feel better? Like reassure me that you don’t have to cut it off?”

“Oh! Well with a cut this shallow, I wouldn’t see any reason for amputation unless it’s infected and necrosis is imminent. Have you recently been bitten by any of the following: black widow, viper, cobra-“

“No.”

“I see. Maybe a topical infection! Has your wound been exposed to bio hazardous materials, stagnant water, or otherwise putrid and festering environments?”

Eddie looks around at the state of the bar. “Yeah, you could say that.” Farya’s eyes light up as she begins to dig through her medical bag. She emerges from her bag with a syringe and a needle the length of Eddie’s hand. “Kidding! I was kidding. Really bad joke, just kidding. I’m actually fine, so if you wouldn’t mind…” Eddie starts to get up from his stool.

“Oh, but…”

“Tell you what, doc. How about you hand me a can of compressed air and call it a day?”

“But…I don’t have any compressed air.”

“Welp when you get some, you are welcome back any time. Sorry you made the trip.”

You come back to yourself when you see Farya’s face drop. “Actually, I think I could use an aspirin, if you have any, Farya.”

“Of course!!” She hands you a small pack of two aspirin and gives you the list of things you may not ingest while the aspirin is in your system. You thank her and apologize for the misunderstanding. When the door closes, you look over at Eddie, who has a frustratingly well-earned amused look on his face. “Right…”

“You thought I was bleeding.”

“You got cut.”

“You went to help your breaker box get stitches.”

“I don’t have a lot of experience talking to people who don’t bleed, okay? You got cut, that was all I knew.”

“I’m not people, you know.”

You don’t know why, but it frustrates you to your core that he said it, and it makes it worse that he’s right. He, on the other hand, looks vindicated. You fight the swelling in your head and the pressure in your nose and behind your eyes. He’s not saying anything you didn’t know. It’s just not something you’re ready to accept.

“I’m working on it.”

“Hmm?”

“The people thing. I’m working on it.”

He nods, that faraway look in his eyes. “I know.”

You sit in silence for a moment.

“Are you going to need help? With the tape, I mean.”

“Probably not, I got it.”

“Yeah, I believe you. It would just make me feel better if I helped, if that’s okay.”

He thinks for a moment and then hands you the tape.

“Does it matter…how? Or…do I have to wrap every wire individually?”

He’s stopped scoffing at you dismissively. It’s turned into more of a pitying glare as of late. “It’s nothing special. You just…here.” Eddie pulls the tab on the tape and places it across his cut. “Then just…” He hesitates for a moment and then he gently takes your hand. You might have expected his fingers to be wiry. But they’re sturdy, warm, and ever so gently buzzing with electricity. He guides your hand as you unravel the roll around his palm, across the back of his hand, on the other side of his thumb. You get the idea right away but you refuse to move of your own accord, waiting for his fingertips to apply pressure to lead you where you were going to go anyway. You hope he’s focusing on anything but the way your hands are shaking in his. You’re too afraid to look up at him to see if he’s looking at you. It’s just quiet in the bar until the lights start to surge again. The lights all getting brighter, the low hum turning into a frantic buzz.

“Eddie”

“Shh.” His hand stops. “Just hold on.” The lights calm down and he resumes leading you. Finally, he takes a deep breath. “There. That’s. Good…good job.”

You seize up at the words. You can’t think of anything to say. His voice is a deep hum amid the buzzing low lights. Your hands tingle from the stifled energy radiating off of him. You rip the tape off of the roll and use both hands to smooth over the bandages, massaging his palm with your thumbs. “Is it too…too…” You suddenly find yourself unable to say the word.

“Nope, we’re good.”

“Cool”

He flexes his hand and then stands up to go behind the bar.

“What’re you doing?”

“There’s glass everywhere.”

“Oh, here.”

“No honestly I’m fine.”

“Would you please…? I need something to do right now. Just stand over there.”

He must have sensed something barely restrained within you as well because he obliges, leaning on the end of the bar. You carefully clean the glass out of the sink and finish the dishes. Most of this happens in silence until Eddie speaks up.

“You yelled at me today.”

“You deserved it.”

“I thought it was nice.”

“Masochist.”

“No, no. I don’t enjoy being berated. But you, with your ‘oh pwease just let me help you’ schtick.” He exaggerates a nasally voice and bats his eyelashes to punctuate his impression. “It was nice to see you drop it for once.”

“First of all, you’re a bitch for your impression of me; I do not sound like that.” You have to take a moment before you speak again because Eddie’s laughing too hard - at you calling him a bitch or at his impression of you, you’re not quite sure. “Secondly, good. I hope your opinion of me and my ‘schtick’ has changed a little.”

“Oh it hasn’t.”

“What?”

“Quite the opposite.”

“Why?!”

“Because it was still for someone else!” He can’t help but laugh while he explains it to you. “You put everything on yourself. Everything. And the only time you stick up for yourself and actually care about your own feelings is when you think it could help someone else. Anyone else but you. You bleed yourself dry so that others can drink their fill. Some of them, by the way, irritate the shit out of you! I know they do! But you put up with it because you can’t fathom a world where your health is more important than someone else’s comfort.”

“Well that’s a real treat coming from you.”

“Excuse me?”

“You think I don’t notice? You clock in, you work, you clock out, you disappear until it’s time to work again. So what about you? When are you going to do what’s good for you? When’s the last time you cared about your feelings?”

“Cared about my feelings?”

“That’s what’s so lame about me, right? I can’t just do what I want? How about you? Is work all you want?”

“You’re getting riled up.”

“I am always riled up. Because yes, I do let people step all over me. I do have self sabotaging tendencies. I try to compensate for not taking care of myself by trying to take care of other people. Sure! But at least I know it. I know what I want and why I’m not doing it. So what about you? Hmm? Is this all you want? To show up to work tired and go to bed tired and wake up tired and push people away because you’re tired? Is this all you’ve ever wanted to do? Because if it isn’t, then you have no right to make fun of-“

“Then what do you want? If you know what you want and you just won’t do it, why?”

“It doesn’t matter what I want!”

“If it doesn’t matter then just say it!”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because y-“ Your voice catches. You’re suddenly aware of how his chest rises and falls with every labored breath. The veins in his forearm are more pronounced. And the atmosphere in the room is buzzing, radiating energy. It’s not just the room. The back of your neck is hot, and your arms have goosebumps. Everything suddenly feels unstable. “What is that?”

“Ohhhh no. Don’t change the subject. Come on! We’re here now. You said you know what you want and why you’re not doing it. So what is it you want to do? What’s holding you back?” He doesn’t move closer to you, but you can feel the pulse of energy radiating off of him. There are tiny blue sparks all over the bar from where his hand rests on it.

“Eddie.”

“Don’t Eddie me, just admit that-“

You cut him off and rush over to him. “Yes. Yes, I admit it. You’re right. I was criticizing you for doing exactly what I do and that was wrong. But here, you’re burning up, look.” You point out the sparks running all along the bar.

“I’m not-“ He seems shocked at the sight. He takes his hand off the bar and inspects it.

“Umm..” You go to touch the bar.

“No! Don’t. Let it…settle. Or something. I don’t know, just don’t touch it yet.”

You nod. “Sorry, I didn't mean to. I think I just got you worked up...”

“No, it’s not your fault. It’s probably just the exposed wire.”

“Oh.” You hope he doesn’t notice how embarrassed you are. He chuckles and you’re too afraid to ask him at what. You look into his eyes, flecks of blue sparks and bright red copper are slowly fading away. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” You give him a stern look. “Yes, I’m fine.”

“Okay.” You try to hide your concern with a small smile. It does not work. There’s a few moments of low hums from the lights as everything quiets back down.

“I really laid it on thick. That was…unnecessary. I think you’re doing a great job…with everything..”, he says.

“Yeah. Me too. I mean you too. You know.”

“Yeah…”

You’re aware of how closely you’re standing now. You wonder if he notices too.

“Hey, just so you know…whatever it is, if I can help, I will.”, he says.

“Huh?”

“That thing you want to do…I would help you, if it was something you needed help doing.”

You take a big gulp of air. You suddenly don’t know where to look. “Thank you.”

“Sure thing. Just…putting it out there.”

“Yup. You too. Same. If you wanted to…do something. I would help. Also.”

“Yup.”

“Cool.”

Part 2

#date everything game #date everything #date everything Eddie #eddison watts #eddie x reader #date everything fic

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aaasdgnklm · 3 days ago

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I really want Mane to come back in uu maybe its just cause I’m a Mane enjoyer and I’m sure hes busy irl or smthn but I really, really want him to come back as a villain for honestly anyone

originally I thought Wemmbu would be the coolest to have Mane as a villain, because it would be good to see how Wemmbu has grown since the Mane training arc and have Mane either praise or ridicule Wemmbus progress. it would also seriously fuck Wemmbu up, having someone that he looked up to so much and has been more or less friends with since the prince Zam empire arc not only try to kill him but actively hate him. this could either be because Wemmbu didnt trust Mane and left him, or because someone else intervened and gave Mane a reason to kill Wemmbu (yes another hired assassin arc ik), or maybe there was something Wemmbu did on accident or offhandedly that was a personal slight to Mane. maybe Mane has bigger plans and needs Wemmbu out of the way for them, similar to Ashs view on Parrot(note! I havent finished parrots pov that might be a shit take on ash as a villain for parrot). maybe Mane wants Wemmbus mace, since i dont think he has one and its directly referenced as part of Manes fighting style and is already shown to be important to him, being the initial reason Mane decides to train Wemmbu. whatever his reason, I would love to see Mane and Wemmbus semi rocky but overall very good (for wemmbu) relationship go seriously sour. Wemmbu would be hesitant to fight him and they would both be a little too familiar with each others combat style and the insults or jabs they would exchange would be cutting.

on the other hand, Mane could also be a really good enemy for Flame. its established from Wemmbus videos that they had a relationship either before or during princezam empire, and theyve had SOME kind of problem since Mane betrayed. so Mane pretty much already has a motivation and Mane would actually get Flames attention, even without the insane levels of annoyance the toxic players had to reach before Flame considered them an issue. also it would be a really really cool way to explore Flames past, considering he was such an important antagonist for multiple s1 protags and has clearly been a major player on the server in general, even though we only get to see him in a ver specific light. but seeing Flames past relationships, obviously I’m thinking about with Mane but even with Zam or Sorrin, and seeing what they think of him now- god that could be cool. and similar to the idea with Wemmbu, Mane could be a serious threat because he knows Flame, or at least he did. Mane could reasonably be someone who would know Flame well enough to pose a serious threat, maybe Mane couldnt take him in a straight fight but if Mane got a mace or if hes playing mind games with Flame, he could use his knowledge of how Flames brain works to always stay one step ahead. this could also work with the foreshadowing of Lomedys friend and ego being Flames downfall, since Flame would assume Mane is less of a threat because he knows hes better at pvp than Mane, which Mane would use to probably lure him into a trap. Mane has been trying to i think kill Flame for a while now, so ofc hed continue with that maybe with some new weapon hes been busy getting for the past few months. maybe hes had to travel trillions of blocks to find an undestroyed trial chamber for a mace.

but also also, playing off of the idea I had while watching Wemmbus new tournament video, what if we did both? what if Mane came back to fight Flame, but because of Flame and Wemmbus friendly rivalry, he keeps running into Wemmbu too. even better, maybe the first time or first few times Wemmbu and Mane are almost avoiding each other- theyre both fighting Flame, they used to be friends, so they should work together, but it feels wrong. their opinions on him and feelings about Flame are so different and they best they can bring themselves to do is to not get in each others way. ofc, that wouldnt work for long, and at some point Mane would start trying to kill Wemmbu too, which could lead to Wemmbu deciding to put the fight with Flame on hold to deal with the much bigger and more genuine threat of Mane. the banter would be crazy, Wemmbu and Flame would be constantly arguing and butting heads, maybe to the point that one of them leaves at some point(maybe wemmbu to work with mane again). and since all three of them know each other so well, any and all comments and tactics would be incredibly personal and emotional.

I also wouldnt mind Mane being a villain for Parrot or Spoke for a completely unrelated reason, like hes trying to kill one of them and they accidentally run into Wemmbu or Flame and Mane is just like are you serious not this guy again. Maybe Spoke invades his base too, or Wifies hires Mane as a guard for Parrot(I personally dont think he will be hiring any guards or anything because he wont trust them with parrot but yk). it would be really cool for a character with history to show up somewhere that ISNT their history, like Minute showing up in Wemmbus video. if Mane showed up in Spoke or Parrots pov and either his past isnt mentioned or its only talked about indirectly(looking at minutes ‘you dont want to become the villain of your own story’ that was NOT about our purple bug </3), I would still go feral.

this ideas are combinable, I also really like the idea that Mane or anyone honestly causes problems for every protag, similar to Ash, and forces the gang together. but also what if each problem was like personal, where each of the protagonists genuinely fucking hates Mane for their own reason. in s1 Wemmbu specifically didnt really have a reason for hating Ash, he just happened to dislike someone working with Ash and it was pretty much just convenient for him to team up with Parrot and Spoke. he didnt have a lot of emotional stakes in it, it was more like Ash was causing problems for everyone and Wemmbu was coincidentally an everyone. but Mane could have personal beef with each protagonist- using the ideas I have already, Mane comes back to try to kill Flame and as a side hustle to get him rich and shit he works for the Director to keep Parrot trapped somewhere (maybe Parrot manages to get away from Wifies and Mane gets hired to track him down). While doing this, Spoke starts fucking with his base(probably after loot Wifies gave him) and Wemmbu is also trying to fight Flame at the same time. Its a lot of layers and moving pieces, but i really like it when everyone has multiple things going on at the same time and theyre all overwhelmed n shit. Parrot would be mainly dealing with Wifies and Mane would just be someone Wifies hired, Spoke would just be being spoke, Wemmbu could be trying to balance his morals and pick between two people he hates, and Flame kind of gets the short end of it all with Mane and Wemmbu giving him grief.

I just want a serious villain with emotional baggage guys I love uu but I’m so sick of faceless underdeveloped unimportant villains

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