#I would die for this model of him to be finished (he would not do the same for me)

[crunchycricket]

Soon. Oohhh soon. Cyrus Uprising Will be real

[anxiousbabybird]

Love and Deepspace men x fem!reader slightly unhinged and NSFW HCs, PART 2!

Once again, minors do not interact! I made you guys a part 2 of my current thoughts. No plot or card spoilers in my comments or reblogs, please and thank you 💙

Part 1

Rafayel

Have you met this man? He wants to know where you��re at and who you’re with at all times. So jealous. It’s probably in your best interest to forget other men exist once you’re dating him

Convinced you to suck his dick while he’s painting to see if it helps convey emotion into his painting—he accidentally pushed the paintbrush through the canvas when he came

Loves when you ride him—it’s so cute watching you bounce on him and use his body for your own pleasure. This also allows him to sit back a little and enjoy every sound you make, every facial expression, every feeling. Of course he does eventually get bored and flips you onto your back for his turn

Before you’re dating, he persuades you into being a nude model for him. He takes his time caressing your skin and telling you he has to “feel” the art, lets his hands wander and linger as he moves your body little by little until you’re in the exact position he wanted. Spends hours staring at your naked body, pretending to draw it (he finished his sketch hours ago but he doesn’t want you getting dressed yet)

Kinks/fetishes: biting, marking, breeding, spit, primal, spanking, mirror sex, praise, wax, shibari, choking, exhibitionism

Loves a pussy job—just sliding his cock between your folds and tapping at your clit like he’s knocking on a door until he cums all over you. Loves this for two reasons: 1) you look exquisite with your clit swollen and body spattered in cum, and 2) the banter between the two of you during a pussy job is top tier. It’s not quite degradation, but you’re both going back and forth in the most teasing way, riling each other up.

Has the biggest praise kink. He thinks he might actually die if you don’t tell him how amazing he is at least 12 times a day

Part of the pretty dick club. It’s actually perfect—thick but not too thick, long but not too long, nice veins wrapping around and well groomed at the base. Some would say it���s perfect.

Xavier

Sometimes when he’s flustered by you, his body emits a soft glow because of his evol. You notice it for the first time when you surprise him with a kiss to his cheek. He glows a little brighter the first time he kisses your lips too.

He’s fallen asleep during sex before. Usually after several rounds, he’s cum twice already, and you’re laying on your sides on the bed and he’s lazily thrusting into you from behind and all of a sudden he stops. Sheathed inside you and an arm around your waist. When you look over your shoulder, he’s sounds asleep and already softly snoring. You have no choice but to do the same, falling asleep in his arms and keeping his cock nice and warm all night

His favorite position is missionary where your legs are wrapped around his waist and he’s slowly, deeply thrusting into you. He likes seeing every expression on your face, really feeling you sucking him in, hearing every breathy moan you try to hide from him. And he likes that he can kiss you whenever he wants

Likes to read at night, even though he falls asleep doing it. When you start staying nights at his place, he convinces you to read out loud to him and you do that every night until he falls asleep with his head on your chest.

Kinks/fetishes: hair pulling (he likes when you give a little tug), overstimulation, marking, cum play, face sitting, cockwarming

Loves fresh flowers and brings you new ones every week. He thinks they’re pretty and hopes you appreciate them the way he does. Sometimes he buys them or sometimes he picks them from some lush patch in the forest. Always takes some for himself so he knows when they start dying and he needs to get you new ones.

Loves to lay his head in your lap so you can play with his hair

The kind of guy who will keep his hand holding yours no matter what because he wants to make sure you’re staying beside him. Sometimes takes one of your hands and puts it in the pocket of his sweatshirt with his just so it stays warm.

Zayne

He was very opposed to fucking in the hospital at first but then on a day he was super stressed, you stopped by and sucked him off under his desk while he reviewed charts and he was able to successfully perform a surgery other doctors thought was inoperable—he was more lenient on sex in the hospital after that

Kinks/fetishes: size kink, spanking, brat taming, choking, degradative praise, impact (spanking/flogging/paddle), breeding, edging/denial, thigh riding, dirty talk

Has absolutely bent you over his knee to spank you when you’re being a brat and talking back to him all the time with no regard for your own well being. All he wants is to take care of you because you never take care of yourself. And he would take the best care of you.

Cunt smacks. No further explanation needed.

Favorite sex position is prone bone. He likes hitting it from the back because sometimes the prolonged eye contact that can come with facing each other makes him uncomfortable. But doggy style isn’t what he wants because he wants to feel your body against his, holds you as close as possible. This position works best because every inch of him is atop you and he can feel your body there beneath him, he gets to tuck his head into your neck to bite or kiss or moan into, he’s close to your ear and can whisper filthy things or tell you how close he is or how good you feel around him, and most of all, this position has him so fucking deep inside you that he swore nothing in this life felt better the first time he entered you in this way

Allergic to saying nice things to you 98% of the time.

He runs cold because of his evol and sometimes when he cums, it feels like ice inside of you. Made you scream in surprise the first time but leads to some fun temperature play where he uses his tongue to warm you up after. He’s also often cold and loves to curl up against you and tell you that you’re his heater.

#ThickDickClub

@luffysprincess @seraphofthesimps @adaurielle

[777heavengirl]

the one where it's 2 in the morning

sirius black x reader ! - 944 words masterlist bags masterlist

"What are you doing? It's two in the bloody morning-" Sirius padded towards you, the light from the crescent moon raining in through the windows. Your eyes flickered over to his figure, his fingers rubbed circles in his eyes as he walked away from his room, his inky black locks gaining a blue hue from the moon. But as he got closer the yellow light of the lamp next to you warmed his features. You'd never get tired of watching him like this. Domestic and pliable, no smirks of mischief on his face, no ulterior glint in his eye. Just Sirius, shirtless and tired, throwing himself unceremoniously on the couch beside you. 

"Did I wake you?" Your words were barely above a whisper, so as not to disturb the silence of the night. He mumbled a no, muffled by the soft cushion of the couch where he had buried his head. His hair bled over onto your lap, his arm following suit as he pulled and brought himself closer. His head was on your lap, now buried between the thick blanket and your sweater.

"What're you doing" You hesitated answering, praying he'd be clueless to the newspaper in your hand and the red pen that had circled the prospective jobs you were looking at. 

"Nothing much- why are you awake?" 

"Because you are- don't change the subject let me see-" He lifted his head slightly, glaring at the muggle newspaper before ripping it from your hands. It wasn't violent by any means but he stood swiftly from the couch, his body rocking as he fought off the remainder of sleep and the rush of getting up so quickly. His hand held the newspaper tall above him, out of your reach. "oi why are we looking at jobs?" 

"I was using that Sirius," you tried clawing up to get it, chest to chest as the tips of your toes proved to be unsteady. "I'm looking for a job because I need it-"

"I thought I told you not to- we've been at this for two years now doll" He let the newspaper fall behind him and wrapped his arms around you, the way he did when he wanted to convince you to take the tube instead of apparating. The way he held you when the metro shook and rocked you and he'd whisper in your ear. You prayed to the stars above he couldn't see the rush of heat on your face.

"I can't not do anything, Sirius, I've been thinking of taking up a ministry job-" He groaned, letting his head fall onto your shoulder, his body slumped and lethargic.

"I don't know what part of I'll take care of everything I have a trust fund isn't getting through your thick skull-" 

"What will I do when you move on with your life then mhm?" The words left your mouth before you could think twice, your hesitation and insecurities spilling from you like water from a fountain. He lifted his head now, unpeeling himself and standing in front of you with his loose stance and eyes locked into yours as if daring you to even finish your sentence. And you did. His hand clung to your wrist. "When you go off and marry no doubt some French model-" his brows furrowed, his eyes changing into something you couldn't figure out. "And move out, will you take care of me then? I can't be a burden to you when you finally… you know"

Your eyes trained on each other and silence swept over you.

"Leave-"

Sirius could feel the heap of bricks at the pit of his stomach. Heavy with something akin to sadness. He couldn't believe this was what you had been thinking. Had he done anything to make you think he'd leave? He thought of the last time James came over, the soon-to-be father making some stupid remark about how old habits die hard and you're still not unpacking everything? You have a home now you know? He’d have to fix that… What if you moved out first? What would he do then?

He tried to look away now, not being able to bear your gaze on his. Because when you acted like he could live without you, away with someone else, in some other apartment that would never be as warm and comfortable as the one you had lived in together, he could feel the words claw at his throat from the inside. A confession poisoning him from the inside out. 

But then you poked at his side. And he locked eyes with you again.

With your warm eyes that made him feel like he was home, like he belonged. You had always looked at him that way. Even when he teased and pulled at your hair at 11, even when you had to help heal his wounds when he ran away at 16. So he decided that he'd keep it inside again. He decided he'd finish unpacking his trunk tomorrow. After two years. Because you are his home.

"That won't happen anytime soon doll-"

"You don't know that-"

"Trust me, I'd never leave you" You felt your heart in your throat at his words, but nodded. You'd bicker about it more some other day, the late hour bearing down on your resolution. You made sure to remember to get the newspaper after Sirius went to bed again, fold it, and bury it between books. You knew he wouldn't truly be mad, because you knew deep down he knew the day would come as well, when one of you would have to leave first. 

But you knew it would never be you.

[harmonictechnicality]

model!steve and voice actor!eddie

part 2 here | ao3 link here

Eddie chose a career in voice acting to avoid shit like this.

Forced socializing. Schmoozing with hotshot directors who are used to everyone kissing their ass until their lips bleed. And Eddie doesn’t do that shit. 

… Okay yeah sure, Eddie kisses asses. But only in the literal, consensual kind of way. Usually after a few mediocre dinner dates, at least.

But this particular fuckhole of a director is insisting that Eddie attends the production shoot of the commercial that he’ll be narrating for. Which is weird - that’s not how this process typically goes. Eddie gets the script and records it in his studio. Easy peasy.

“I do things a little differently with my projects.” The director sneers into the phone’s speaker. Eddie silently gags at the oozing amounts of ego on this guy. “I want to immerse you into my vision.”

Ew. Eddie would rather immerse himself into a nap, but whatever. A job is a job.

“Understood.” Eddie agrees with minimal teeth-clenching. “I’ll be on set shortly.”

The phone clicks dead with nothing but a chuckle from the guy. No ‘goodbye,’ no ‘thank you.’ Rude… but that’s kind of an industry standard, so why did Eddie expect anything different?

He folds the script into his back pocket, throws on a shirt that screams ‘Los Angeles disaster gay,’ and makes his way to the studio lot.

Fucking yay. 

Upon arrival, the director immediately escorts Eddie into the green room. Rambles on about needing him to meet the lead model for this commercial.

“Isn’t he just posing with the product?” Eddie lets his snarkiness run loose with that question, knows it right away.

Luckily, the guy is too busy snapping at a crew member to notice. “You’ll be voicing his character’s inner narrations.”

“Right.”

“And I want your tone to be seamless with the energy that he’s giving in this shoot. Got it?”

“Loud and clear.” Mostly loud.

The director swings open the door and reveals maybe the most cosmically beautiful person that Eddie has ever seen.

“Eddie, this is Steve.” The director says. “Steve, this is Eddie.”

Models are beautiful people, that’s the goddamn gig. Makeup, no makeup. Photoshop, no photoshop. They just look better than the general population and society accepts that as a fact.

But Eddie is a grubby little voice actor that burrows himself up in his boxy apartment for days. Very little sunlight, very little human interaction, and a shit ton of takeout.

Long story short, he doesn’t get out much. So this? Seeing a biblically hot heartthrob in the flesh? With his own two eyes? It’s knocking him into deep space. Sending him into an astral projection without sticking a tablet on his tongue first.

“Nice to meet you, man.” Steve holds out his hand while someone brushes more powder onto his shiny, glowy skin. God, that’s the best damn skin Eddie has ever seen. Powder be damned, Steve doesn’t need it’s chalky finish.

Eddie shakes himself out of this spell, takes Steve’s hand like he’s somehow worthy of touching him. “Yeah, you too.”

Lame. So lame. On a scale of one to Star Wars prequels, his response is the CGI in Attack of the Clones. ‘Yeah, you too?’ Ugh, what a dumbass.

The director tells them to get acquainted and to be on set in ten minutes. Ten minutes. Eddie has to be convincingly normal for ten whole minutes. Pfft, that’s laughable, but he’ll give it a shot.

“That guy’s a total asshat.” Steve grumbles.

Oh. Eddie could smother him in kisses for saying that. Lick Steve clean of all that stupid powder and probably die of talc poisoning. Death By Licking a Model is one hell of a way to go.

“Yeah.” Find some new words, Munson. “Major asshat. But he happens to be paying my bills this month, so technically, he’s my favorite major asshat.”

“Oh, same.” Steve laughs. It’s fucking glorious too. Eddie kind of wishes he had brought his microphone so that he could capture such a wonderful sound with high quality recording software. Is that creepy? Maybe he should dial it back. 

... As if. This guy’s hair is sculpted with effortless perfection and his shoulder blades could slice through a French baguette. No way Eddie can dial it back or keep it together.

“So you’re doing the voice work on the commercial, right?” Steve asks.

‘Yup.” Eddie shoves both hands into his pockets. “Indeed I am.” 

Okay, that was borderline Yoda. Get a grip.

Steve seems unfazed though. “That’s cool. Can’t wait to hear what you come up with.”

“Thanks.” Eddie smiles warmly. Nerves mellowing out. “And I can’t wait to see you in action out there.”

“Hope I can give you some good inspiration.” And Steve winks, legit winks at Eddie. Does it like it’s normal too, like he winks at everybody. He probably winks at nuns just to see if he can get them to consider conversion.

Eddie is so hopeless. Fucking tragic at this point.

They walk into the studio and are greeted by a somber, archaic set design. There’s a massive throne in the middle that is draped with fur. 

It’s… tacky. That’s the nicest adjective Eddie has to describe it. Tacky bullshit.

“I thought this was for a cologne ad.” Eddie says, eyeing the snowy backdrop.

Steve nods. “It is.”

“So what’s with the secondhand Game of Thrones set?”

“Mr. Asshat thinks this is his cinematic debut.”

Eddie snorts. Loves that he already has inside jokes with this beautiful, beautiful creature. “Someone should tell Mr. Asshat that this is visual plagiarism.”

“Nah.” Steve runs his hand over the tacky fur piece. Smirks to himself as he speaks. “I say we let him suffer.”

Eddie’s legs wobble. “Damn, you’re hot.”

He sounds ridiculously uncool, so breathy and gone. But Steve shrugs in a non-pitying kind of way, so maybe Eddie's uncoolness is excused. Or expected.

While the camera and lighting crew finalize their positions, Steve takes off his robe, revealing his costume.

Torn, muddied pants. Ripped and clawed to shreds. A billowy white top that’s completely unbuttoned. Un-laced? Eddie’s not entirely sure about the mechanics - just knows that Steve’s chest is out, that’s all he can focus on.

There’s a dented crown that the stylist places next to the throne, right at Steve’s feet. It’s shimmery yet tarnished, catches the light in a kaleidoscope effect.

The product is called The Fallen King, so deductive reasoning tells Eddie that Steve is meant to be the physical embodiment of this scent. He recalls something in the script about his title being slandered by promiscuity and forbidden love. Apparently they’ve bottled up that smell into a cologne. 

Do people really want to smell like a dethroned monarch? That’s a thing? Huh.

Just to make the sexual torture even more unbearable, Eddie gets to spectate alongside Mr. Asshat himself. Which also means that Eddie almost has a center view of Steve’s performance.

Cause that’s exactly what he’s giving. A performance. A full display production of his body, his face. His whole godlike essence. 

It’s unfair how fucked Eddie is from watching Steve pose. He can hold the oddest positions without budging a single tendon. So still. Durable. Strong.

Every last thought in Eddie’s head is impure from that observation. He wants to wrap his fingers around Steve’s muscles until he finally moves, twitches. Eddie wants to watch as Steve’s pretty lips part, falling open with sighs. See how long it takes for those sighs to turn into moans.

Steve slumps back into the throne, legs spread obscenely far apart. His gaze droops low and dark, practically eye-fucking the camera. It’s crazy how jealous Eddie is of that stupid inanimate object. The things he would do to get eye-fucked by that golden sex god up there…

His internal porno gets interrupted by a new pose. A wicked one. Steve is on his knees now, looking up into the camera lens. He sinks into the dreamiest expression. Looks dazed, all spaced-out and helpless. Eddie kneads at the growing heat in his pants with the heel of his palm. Hopes it’s not fucking obvious that he’s so horned up right now.

The director clears his throat and yells over the camera’s constant shuttering. “Can you tilt your head back, Steve?”

And Steve does. So obedient, so exceptional at his job. His head rolls back on his neck, shoulders sagging with the shift of weight.

Eddie is chewing the inside of his cheek, nearly ready to take the horny loss and go jack off in his car. Steve is in the most ideal position now, totally vulnerable. Eddie could fuck him so good like that, let Steve melt into his touch. He’d treat him like treasure, spoil him with dick and praise. Eddie would catch him if his legs give out. Would lick Steve’s kiss-bitten lips until the swelling goes down.

God, Eddie is so sick in the head for conjuring up x-rated scenes like this. In public, surrounded by strangers. Literally on the clock. He seriously needs to get his head checked for having such a whorish imagination.

The shoot ends shortly after that last pose, the one that rocked Eddie’s world. He closes his eyes for a minute, takes a few deep breaths. Tries to inhale some goddamn decency.

“How was it?” Steve heads his way, snaking his arms back into the bathrobe.

Eddie blinks hard. “It was… you were…” And the words stop. Nothing else comes out, his throat is strangled and bare.

Steve gives a soft laugh, nudges Eddie’s arm with his elbow. “Guess you do better when there’s a script in front of you, huh?”

Oh. So he’s pretty and darkly playful? This is too good, too delicious.

Eddie wets his bottom lip, recovers quickly. “I do better when there’s not an earthbound angel in my presence.”

“Wow.” Steve raises both eyebrows. “That’s quite the compliment.”

“Oh come on - you must get compliments all the time.”

“Not like that one though.”

“No?”

Steve takes a step into Eddie’s space. “Definitely not.”

They just stare after that - mostly because it’s Eddie’s turn to speak but words are so secondary when there’s this much beauty to behold. Gazing becomes his top priority.

And before the conversation can lead to an exchange of last names or phone numbers, Steve is rushed off by his agent. Maybe his publicist. Maybe his mom, Eddie has no fucking clue. Just someone taking away his shiny new toy. He sort of feels like reenacting that scene in Cast Away when the volleyball drifts into the ocean. Be dramatic as all hell about this ending.

Eddie doesn’t actually jack off in his car, although he really wants to. No, he decides to use all of his adrenaline and pent-up hormones for the voice recording. It gives his vocals this strained, chesty sound. Sinful and corrupt. Cracking with emotion in certain spots, spiking the volume in all the right ways.

It might be too much, a little bit too suggestive for a lousy cologne advertisement.

But as he listens back, Eddie can’t help but picture Steve. Imagining snapshots of him from every angle, especially the unspeakable ones. The recording barely sounds like a script anymore. It almost sounds like Eddie whispering the lines directly into Steve’s ear. A dirty secret between them.

This is it, he thinks. Sends the audio file to his sound mixer without a second read-through, without a retake. This might be the best voiceover Eddie Munson has ever done.

[retroaria]

Domestic Life w/ Osamu Dazai ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊

• ───────── ·𖥸· ───────── •

summary: life with agency!dazai, days off, date nights, the whole shabang!

warnings: slightly suggestive at some points (not sure if MDNI is necessary but keep it in mind) NOT SAD AND MISERABLE CANON DAZAI!!! Pretend he is happy and joyous for this, why would he want to die when he has you? Not proofread!!

BSD M.LIST | enjoy 🐈 - aria

• ───────── ·𖥸· ───────── •

The days where Dazai can fully devote himself to you are unfortunately far and few. On top of that, he’s a rather forgetful man. He saves all his reports for the last minute, needing to finish them up while everyone else is already gone (or spend just as much time begging Atsushi to do them for him). He makes plans, promises, deals, all of which take up his time aside from the usual agency agenda.

You know that Dazai loves what he does, so you put up with it. At the very least he still comes home almost every night, flops himself down on the bed and wraps his arms tight around you. And he’ll still be there in the morning. flashing you a warm smile as you wake up to see him adjusting the collar of his suit, throwing his jacket over his shoulder before planting a soft kiss to your lips and heading out the door. The purely intimate moments you get to experience together always happen in the dead of night or at the crack of dawn.

Aside from that, as well as all the work related events Dazai brings you to, his days off don’t come often. Whenever the stars align and those days do happen to fall upon you, you know immediately as you wake up in the morning. He’s still wrapped around you, arms and legs, almost in a death grip. He would’ve left for work by now if he had too, not that he hasn’t slept in late before, but his suit is still sprawled on the floor of your room. He hadn’t taken the time to wash it or hang it back up because he wouldn’t be needing it the next day.

• ───────── ·𖥸· ───────── •

These days begin with an absolute power struggle in the bedroom (not the fun kind). This man will not wake up and will not let you out of bed. He will whine and groan and sometimes even shed tears at the fact that you would ever want to leave him when he finally can spend a morning with you. “Dazai we still have stuff to do today, you can just hold me captive.”

“Do you hate me Bella, is that it? Has our love truly dwindled? I finally have the chance to engulf you in my affection and you want no part of it.” He’ll give you a full Shakespearean style monologue about how cruel it is that you would deny his neediness.

“Oh my god Osamu, you are so dramatic”

Eventually you do escape his grasp and leave the bedroom to start the day, to which he must follow suit. These days are spent with Dazai following you around like a lost puppy.

He follows you to the bathroom, you guys get ready together, he sits on the toilet while you shower, talking to you through the curtain about all the recent agency drama, casually mentioning all the times he’s almost died in the last week alone. (He’s also sneaking peaks of you, slyly pulling the curtain back when you won’t notice)

On days where the two of you get to go out you always let him pick your outfit. Dazai’s list of skills typically pertain to crime and manipulation, but style and fashion is somewhere in there too. He’s usually wearing simple jeans and a crew neck, but he wants you to look like a runway model next to him. “Gosh you look beautiful, gonna make me look like the luckiest guy in the world standing next to you!” he gushes in a sing-song tone.

The first order of business is breakfast, a task which Dazai wants desperately to help you with, but always fails miserably. You opt to let him make coffee for you two, which he adorns with an ungodly amount of sugar and creamer. you’ve been drinking Dazais coffee for so long you’ve grown to like it. It’s like a sweet treat with breakfast, nothing you could complain about. If he gets his hands on a frying pan you’re truly doomed, so this is the one thing you let him have. He can handle the toaster too so he’ll make toast for you guys with jam on it that he spreads on in the shape of a heart with a smiley face in the middle “Dona’ look, can you tell what it is?” he says with a smirk of confidence on his face.

“Very sweet Osamu, your hearts are getting better and better” You can’t actually tell what it is but you know he does the same thing every time. You grab the toast from him and plant a kiss on his cheek, it’s like his reward.

One of Dazai’s favorite things in the world is going to the grocery store with you. It’s such a simple task, that always ends up being so much fun. He relishes in the domesticity of it. It feels almost intimate in a way, it’s something you both would have to do if you were apart, but you’re together, so you do it together for the both of you. He loves being reminded that you are a part of his life in every way.

But god is he troublesome

Dazai is the kind of person to stay at the sample stand and talk to the employee for forever. After about 10 minutes he knows their geographical lineage, their favorite flavor of ice cream, their mother’s maiden name, the name of the high school they went to, the name of their first love, but then he gets bored and moves on. Btw he ate the whole tray of samples while he was talking to them, but made sure to swipe one for you before he bounced. “Don’t think I forgot about you darling” he’d wink as he hands you the cup.

Once you guys get everything you need you head back home. Dazai is a gentleman and is obviously carrying all the heavy bags, but not without complaining. “I don’t remember us getting 3 tons of milk”

“I have the milk, that’s the bag with the 10lb rice”

“I don’t remember us getting 3 tons of rice either.”

When the two of you get home he acts like he just got back from a 12 hour shift, like he’s been fighting an enemy organization all the day, like he’s been strategizing with Ranpo for hours, like he just had to get rescued by Chuuya. He helps you put the groceries away and throws himself onto the couch.

Once he notices you’ve start cooking he returns from his corpse like state on the couch and peaks over at you. He likes watching you cook because you look so focused yet so relaxed at the same time (I’m sorry if you don’t like to cook oops) . He likes to try and read your mind whenever he watches you do things.

Eventually he’ll get up and walk over to the record player in your living room. As you’re chopping away you notice the feint sound of a jazzy tune ringing away behind you, before you can turn around to see the source there is a pair of hands on your hips, swaying you from side to side. “Osamu, I have a knife in my hand”

“That’s never stopped me from anything before in my entire life” he hums away, pushing his body up against yours as he lays his head in the crook of your neck. You guys stay like that as you continue to cook, him humming into your shoulder, planting soft kisses as you simply sway to and forth.

“This is really nice, but I’m about to start chopping onions.” You lied, you were already chopping them.

“Augh god, my eyes! Why would you ruin the moment!?”

“I have to make dinner ‘samu!”

After dinner you guys both enter a corpse like state on the couch, snuggled together, either watching a movie or a parallel play type thing, usually both of you reading your respective books. During this time Dazai can be rather clingy, wanting to literally lay on top of you or have you lay on top of him. He also needs to get your opinion on whatever is happening in the movie or this crazy new suicide method he saw in his book (it’s a novelty interest now, how could he want to die when he has you!)

As bed time approaches, Dazai gets into the shower and it’s your turn to sit in the bathroom with him and tell him about all of your own work drama. Unlike Dazai, your peaks behind the curtain aren’t very sly “hey I see you~” he’d say in a teasing tone.

When the two of you finally get into bed, a wave of sadness washes over Dazai. He is unpleasantly reminded that he has to go to work tomorrow. His little life with you would end once morning came and he’d go back to having to use 100% of his brain power to focus on anything but you. He dreaded the thought and all he can do now to eleviate the pain is pull you close beside him. He plants a million kisses on your face before pulling your lips against his into a deeper kiss that usually lasts until both of you are tired and slightly out of breath.

At this point you begin to drift off to sleep in each others arms. You awaken the next morning to Dazai flashing you a warm smile as he adjusts the collar of his suit, throwing his jacket over his shoulder before planting a soft kiss to your lips and heading out the door.

• ───────── ·𖥸· ───────── •

I FINALLY wrote something for my husband Dazai. I hope you guys enjoy and I can’t wait to keep writing I’m having so much fun here!! Stay safe guys and much love 🤍🤍🤍 -aria

• ───────── ·𖥸· ───────── •

[villainsandvictimsalliance]

So many lonely people on Kaiju No. 8 had found companionship with Kafka.

He's the personification of support. A senpai, a role model, a hero, a friend, a cadet, a reliable worker, even a crush. He's someone you can trust and someone that wants to be there for you. Even the comedy relief guy or the saviour of the day!!

In the latest manga chapters he was a plushie for a little girl.

There's Reno who lost his entire family. Kafka took the role of the senpai with him: guide and teach the guy, talk with him, show him how to survive and inspire him. Reno met a genuinely good guy that was openly offering his help and friendship, so he went back to thank him and do the same. Hey, your dream is not over, Reno said. What did he get in return? Kafka sacrificing his life for him, telling him to run, giving up the most important thing in his life for Reno.

There's Mina, who is terrified of being alone. She found a personal clown in Kafka, yes, but he was also the boy who helped her keep her hope and made things easier. He would always go with her to the shelter during a kaiju attack, even if he was in another school. He told her she didn't have to kill kaijus all alone. He promised to be by her side. Mina was thrown into a world of giant burdens and expectations, where her failures could mean death and destruction. Kafka saw her not as the weapon she was, but as Mina.

Hoshina was constantly disrespected, overlooked and ignored. He gave Kafka a chance because he reminded Hoshina of himself. For his troubles, Hoshina got a guy that would work hard to reach his expectations, that would rival him, that would call him first thing and spend all that time worried and would apologize before turning into a kaiju to save their lives. Kafka became a friend of sorts to Hoshina through hard work and respect.

Kikoru was used to all types of reactions from the people around her, but not to the level of worry and pride and trust Kafka gave her. It was not for show, he was completely open and sincere in his feelings. Kikoru you're an asshole, Kikoru you're amazing, Kikoru pleaseeee take care of yourself, Kikoru I won't disappoint you, Kikoru you have my permission and gratitude if you kill me if I ever lose control, Kikoru I trust you to finish this battle.

The first thing Kafka did during the second part of the recruitment was support Aoi and Haruichi during their subjugation of a kaiju.

He saved Minase's life by partially turning and risking his life for it. He saved Iharu and Reno that day against No. 9.

Narumi told Kafka that only they knew the weight of the burden they carried for being there the day Isao Shinomiya was killed. Freaking Narumi, who wouldn't share that burden with anyone else.

Like it was noted by his boss while he was still part of the Cleaning Corps, Kafka would do his job after complaining, but he'd do it perfectly and do it again if asked to.

He's reliable. I know I said it before, but he is.

In a world where anyone can die any minute, in the Kaiju Country, Kafka is a presence you don't want to vanish. It's what Mina says: everything is easier with him around, anything is possible.

When in the first chapters Kafka tells the little girl to not be afraid because he'll go and everything will be okay— the girl thanks him. In the anime, the little girl even asks Mina to please not hurt the good kaiju. Once people have met him, they don't want him to go. They'd do anything for him not to go, not to die. When Kikoru saw him losing control and remembered her promise, she decided that she'd rather believe in him 'til the end. When Isao was about to disappear, he thought about Kafka and said he'd leave things up to him too.

Isn't that what it means to be a hero? To be able to say "leave it up to me" but also trust others to help you when you need it? Inspire people to support you because you supported them first?

The only thing scarier than the kaijus is to be left alone in the world— and Kafka fights that.

[lovexjoe]

Filming Pieces of Her

warning: smut, age gap, some fluffy

A/N: I had a request for Jacob and a younger co star smut idk what happened to the inbox request but here you go!

Synopsis: Y/N plays Andy who is 20 while Jacob is Michael Vargas who is 31. After their kissing scene Y/N had to take a break.

She doesn’t get it at all. She’s 20 and he’s 11 years older than her! How is she crushing on this man so much?! His fun personality and that goddamn accent doesn’t help it either. The set was being filmed in Georgia today then we’re flying out to Australia to finish up the rest. Andy her character was a simple girl so the glitz and glam wasn’t necessary. The director just asked for Y/N to apply simple makeup so here she was preparing for the hotel scene. Where Andy and Michael kiss and there’s clearly sexual tension between the two prior.

It’s fine ….. at least you’ll kiss him and get it out the way right? You applied your concealer and left it there to dry a bit to get more coverage. A tap on your trailer making you jump.

“Come in!” The door immediately opens with Jacob holding smoothies and a small pouch.

“It’s too late to grab dinner so I managed to get us smoothies. Could you help me apply this stuff” he waves his makeup pouch. He is just too cute.

Jacob was known for his role as Armando in Bad Boys. There’s something about him in a fuller beard and more reserved that turned you on. He sits in the empty chair beside you and watches as you finished up your makeup.

“Honestly you don’t even need that stuff you’re beautiful already.” He casually says as he sips his smoothie.

“Flattering me at this time at night is dangerous, Scipio” you jokingly wiggle your brows at him causing his cheeks to turn pink

“I’m just saying” he puts his hands up innocently.

You dab little dots of concealer on his little imperfections, you didn’t mind them but he had to be camera perfect. Jacob was beautiful as is. You stood between his legs, blending out the concealer while he’s looking up at you. His eyes are sinful. They could make anyone fold.

“Are you nervous? ….for the kiss?” His hands rest on the side of your thighs and you didn’t know how the fuck you stood still cause you wanted to melt right then and there.

“A little bit?….given it’s my first kiss…” You put his finishing powder on and started packing up the products.

“First on screen kiss? Well im honored”

“No Jacob….uhh my first kiss ever….” He thought for a minute as to why anyone would wait this long to kiss someone as enticing as you. Then he remembered you’ve been modeling for most of your younger years and only recently started acting. You barely had a regular childhood.

“Well…” He now stands behind her, looking at her through the mirror.

“Like I said, I’m honored.” He places a soft kiss to her temple before heading out to set.

Oh she was done for.

~~~~~~~~~

Filming the hotel scene

Michael: (sighs) I’ll take the couch

Andy: You’re not sleeping in here. Get your own room

Michael: That’s not how it works

Andy: Well I’m not comfortable with that

Michael: And I’m not comfortable with letting you out of my sight. So….tie me up if it’ll make you feel better, but neither one of us is leaving this room.

Andy: *glares in frustration and sexual tension*

Director: Cut! Good job guys. We’ll finish the rest in 10 minutes. You walked off to grab some water and freshen up. Your nerves getting to you. Andy is the one to initiate the kiss and you don’t know how you’re gonna have the balls to do it. You pep talked yourself in the mirror. He’s just a guy after all.

~~~~~

Director: and ACTION!

Running, fast as you can from someone who could potentially kill you. Trying to find an escape in a panic, was there multiple? Michael was caught up at the hotel with an intruder and I don’t even know if he’s okay. I’m out of breath and I can barely hold on but I’m running. I don’t want to die. I see a fence up ahead and I do my best to climb it. I felt someone grab my leg and I let out a cry for help hoping someone could just save me

Michael: hey hey it’s me it’s okay. I got you. They’re gone.

You drop down into his arms and let out a cry you’ve been holding. Your mom’s secret causing complete chaos to your life. Your heavy breathing subsides and you look up at him. He’s been protecting you this entire time, risking his life for you. Was that time at the bar real? The way he was looking at me, my body couldn’t resist this any longer. I pulled him in for a kiss. A long awaiting kiss.

~~~~~

Characters aside, Jacob’s lips were so soft and his hands felt so big and warm around my waist. We were told that the kiss should last a few minutes. I let out a soft moan, his hands coming up to caress my face as his tongue slips in my mouth. My god. I could stay here. I started to suck on his tongue and he lets out a groan.

“And CUT! Perfect job guys we’ll take a 30 and finish up.”

When we both pulled away, we look at each other for a few minutes then I excuse myself. I headed straight to my trailer not speaking a word to anyone. I’m hot and completely bothered. You took off your jeans since they got ripped from the hooks on the fence. You threw it on the floor, utterly flustered from that kiss when Jacob comes in unannounced.

“H-hey” you said nervously. He closes the door and locks it. Not saying a word to you, eyes on you like you’re his prey. That innocent sparkle in your eyes as if you didn’t just turn him on in ways he didn’t realize was possible. He sits on the couch just watching you, your legs were tightly pressed together trying to find some relief. He notices and lets out a small laugh.

You narrow your eyes at him, this man knew exactly what he was doing to you. You walked over to him, straddling him as he places his hands on your ass.

“What’s so funny?” You questioned him as you take in the scent of his cologne.

“You’re clearly in need of some relief and I’m tired of acting like I don’t want you.” He guides your hips on his leg and you left out a soft gasp. His lips meet your neck as he unbuttons your white bottom up. Your character Andy wearing the most see through top and a black bra has been beyond distracting.

“Jacob!” You let out a moan as he sucks in your neck. He pulls away resting his forehead against yours.

“Tell me to stop and I will. Do you want this?”

“Y-yes” You move your hips against his leg as he pulls you in, getting lost in your lips. Trailing his kisses down to your neck then your chest. He pulls down your bra, massaging your breast, placing one nipple in his mouth. Your moans only being music to his ears. Your clit starting to feel simulated as you kept moving in the same spot.

You call out his name knowing that you were close, you felt your wetness against his jeans.

“Keep going baby, cum on my leg. I’ve got you.” He held you close with one arm as his other hand continues to guide your hips. You could barely even coherent a sentence you were just moaning out for him, reaching your peak. Still you were craving more.

“J-Jacob please touch me. I want you!” He lets you ride out your first orgasm holding you close.

“Before we go any further, please let me take you out to dinner first. It wouldn’t feel right to do this here.”

Oh a gentlemen he is. You agreed and hoped this blossoms into something more.

Taglist: @yeahnohoneybye @cardi-bre91 @onlysarang @romanreignsluver1 @minwn

@armandosbabymama @dyttomori @bbyplutosblog @vergilnelosparda @believeinthefireflies95

[its-avalon-08]

can i request a logan x reader: reader sees his ex at the paddock one day and gets insecure thinking he invited her and leaves but it turns out the ex is now dating a mechanic from another team or something like that…

just a silly idea i had and it’s totally ok if u don’t feel 100% comfortable doing it! and btw i love your writing sm

my ride or die (ls2)

✦ pairing - logan sargeant x female!reader

✦ genre - comfort, tears, angst

The paddock buzzed with the usual pre-race excitement as Y/N made her way toward Logan's garage. She spotted Logan talking with his team, a confident smile on his face. Just as she was about to call out to him, her eyes landed on a familiar figure – Emily, Logan's ex, standing a few feet away, chatting and laughing with some team members.

Y/N's heart skipped a beat. "Why is she here?" she muttered under her breath, feeling a surge of confusion and anxiety. She approached Logan, her voice slightly shaky. "Logan, look who's here," she said, pointing discreetly toward Emily.

Logan, engrossed in a conversation with his engineer, glanced in the direction she pointed and, without really paying attention, smiled and nodded. "Yeah, great," he said absentmindedly, turning back to his discussion.

Y/N's stomach dropped. His casual reaction felt like a confirmation. She took a step back, her mind racing with thoughts. "He invited her," she whispered to herself, feeling a mix of anger, hurt, and betrayal. She turned on her heel and started walking quickly toward the exit, her emotions swirling.

Logan finished his conversation and turned to look for Y/N, but she was already gone. His heart rate quickened as he realized something was wrong. He began to search the paddock, asking people if they had seen her.

"Hey, have you seen Y/N?" Logan asked one of the engineers.

"No, man, not for a while," the engineer replied, shaking his head.

Logan's worry deepened. He pulled out his phone and tried calling her, but it went straight to voicemail. He ran towards the parking area, hoping to catch her before she drove off.

Y/N stormed out of the paddock, muttering to herself as she headed toward her car. "Of course she'd show up… flaunting herself around… why did he have to invite her?" She tried to keep her tears at bay, but her eyes were already glossy with emotion.

As she reached for her car door, she felt a hand grab her wrist. She turned around to see Logan, his face etched with concern. "Y/N, what's going on? Why are you leaving?"

Y/N pulled her hand away, her voice trembling with anger and sadness. "Logan, did you invite her? Did you invite Emily here?"

Logan's eyes widened in shock. "What? No, I didn't invite her. Why would you think that?"

Tears finally spilled over as Y/N looked at him, her voice breaking. "Because she's here, Logan! And she's a model, she's perfect, and she always flirted with you even after you two broke up. How am I supposed to feel?"

Logan stepped closer, reaching out to hold her shoulders gently. "Y/N, listen to me. Emily is not here for me. She's here because she's dating a mechanic from Haas. I swear, I didn't even know she was coming."

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes filled with doubt and insecurity. "But she's so… perfect. How can I compete with that? She's glamorous and confident, and I'm just… me."

Logan's expression softened, and he pulled her into a tight embrace. "Y/N, you don't have to compete with anyone. You are more than enough for me. I love you for who you are, not because of what you look like or what you do."

She buried her face in his chest, her tears soaking his shirt. "It's just hard, Logan. She made me feel so small, like I wasn't good enough for you."

Logan held her even tighter, his voice gentle but firm. "You are more than good enough, Y/N. Emily is in the past. She doesn't matter to me. You do. I love you, and I want to be with you. Not her, not anyone else. You."

Y/N sniffled, lifting her head to look into his eyes. "You really mean that?"

Logan nodded, his eyes filled with sincerity. "I really mean that. You are the one I want to be with. Forever."

She let out a shaky breath, a small smile forming on her lips. "I'm sorry I doubted you. It's just… seeing her brought back all those old insecurities."

"I understand baby," Logan said softly. "But I promise you, you have nothing to worry about. You're the only one for me."

Y/N nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over her. "Thank you, Logan. I love you."

"I love you too," he replied, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Now, let's go back and enjoy the rest of the weekend together, okay?"

"Alrighty american boy, lead the way." she agreed, feeling the warmth of his love and reassurance.

time skip

Logan had an incredible qualifying session, securing a spot on the front row. The team was ecstatic, and he was feeling on top of the world as he made his way back to the garage. As he walked in, he saw Y/N waiting for him, a mixture of pride and guilt written all over her face.

"Logan!" Y/N called out, running towards him. She wrapped her arms around him tightly, burying her face in his chest. "You did amazing!"

Logan hugged her back, smiling. "Thanks, Y/N. I'm really happy with how it went."

Y/N pulled back slightly, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes. "Logan, I need to apologize again. I feel so ridiculously guilty about earlier. I shouldn't have doubted you. I'm so sorry."

Logan's expression softened as he cupped her face in his hands. "Y/N, it's okay. You don't have to keep apologizing. I understand why you felt the way you did."

"But I overreacted," Y/N insisted, her voice trembling. "I should have trusted you. I let my insecurities get the best of me, and I hurt you in the process. I'm really, really sorry."

Logan shook his head, feeling a pang of sadness for how upset she was. "Hey, don't do this to yourself. I love you, and I understand why you felt insecure. It was a tough situation, but we worked through it together. That's what matters."

Y/N sniffled, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I just hate that I made you worry and feel bad before such an important session. You deserve to be happy and focused, not dealing with my doubts."

Logan pulled her closer, resting his forehead against hers. "Y/N, your feelings are important to me. We dealt with it, and I still had a great qualifying. Please, don't beat yourself up over this. We're stronger together."

Y/N nodded, taking a deep breath to steady herself. "Thank you for being so understanding. I promise I'll work on my insecurities. I don't want to make you feel like this again."

Logan kissed her gently, wiping away her tears with his thumbs. "We all have insecurities, Y/N. What's important is that we talk about them and support each other. I love you, and nothing's going to change that."

"I love you too, Logan," Y/N whispered, finally allowing herself to smile. "And I'm so proud of you. You're going to do great tomorrow."

Logan grinned, feeling a wave of warmth and gratitude. "With you by my side, I know I will. Now, let's go celebrate this qualifying session and enjoy the rest of the day together, okay?"

"Okay," Y/N agreed, feeling a sense of relief and happiness. "Let's do that."

As the evening settled in and the celebration for his successful qualifying session began to wind down, Logan found himself quietly observing Y/N. She was laughing with some of the team members, her eyes sparkling with genuine happiness. Her smile was radiant, and the way she effortlessly brought joy to those around her made Logan's heart swell with love.

He took a moment to step back, leaning against the wall, and simply watched her. Every gesture, every laugh, every glance – it all reminded him of how lucky he was to have her in his life. She was his rock, his support, the person who believed in him even when he had doubts about himself. Her vulnerability, her strength, her love – it all made him fall deeper in love with her every day.

Logan felt a profound sense of gratitude wash over him. Despite the challenges, despite the moments of insecurity and doubt, they had come out stronger. He realized that her presence in his life was a blessing he never wanted to take for granted. She was more than just his girlfriend; she was his partner, his confidante, his everything.

In that quiet moment, Logan made a silent promise to himself – to always cherish her, to always support her, and to always remind her just how much she meant to him. As he watched Y/N continue to light up the room with her presence, Logan knew that he had found something truly special. And he was determined to hold onto it with all his heart.

[theother-victoria]

been thinking of street racing with aventurine bc I imagine he’d like the thrill of it too…

tags: not proofread, I typed this out in tumblr drafts, some suggestive comments, flirting, gn reader, I don't know anything about street racing so pls forgive any inaccuracies, banter (they're so silly)

Aventurine, who pulls up to the race in an edgy and sleek sports car, drawing the attention of everyone else there- yours included.

You lean against the side of your car, watching him as he leaves opponent after opponent in the dust. He's skilled, you'll give him that. From the aggressive driving style and the make and model of the car, you're betting it's just some bored teenage boy with daddy's money to burn, but you'd be lying if you said you weren't at least a little bit curious about the person behind the wheel.

A few easy wins later that night and you're slated to race against him. He takes his sweet time pulling up to the finish line, but to your surprise, he rolls his window down for the first time that night and you're able to get a good look at him. He's no teenage boy but he has the same mischievous look that implies he's up to no good.

"Checking me out already?" he remarks, his (captivating) eyes twinkling in delight, although they're hidden behind his sunglasses. "And I thought I'd for sure be the one to make the first move."

Oh, so he's a flirt too. You can barely hear him over the loud purring of his expensive and modded car's engine and you know tonight's race will be a tight one.

"I see you've got money. What's a rich boy like you doing all the way out here?"

His grin widens.

"Ooh, you’re sharp. I like that and the way you talk.”

"Why don't you tell me who you are first?"

He laughs and shakes his head. He rolls up the window, much to your irritation, but not before saying one last thing and sending a wink your way.

"If you win, I'll tell you who I am. How does that sound?"

Damn. No other choice but to accept since the race is about to start.

You end up losing, but just barely. You had to push your car to its limits and he wasn't above playing dirty too, giving you a couple of close calls throughout. Although, he at least didn't endanger your life like some others have in the past, so you'll give him that.

After the race ends, you pull into a brightly-lit gas station with some people there. Shortly after, another car pulls up next to you and he steps out.

"Not bad, not bad," he says, clapping lightly. "It's not often that I find someone that can at least keep up with me, much less overtake me a couple times."

"So you were following me."

He raises his hands as a mock display of innocence.

"Hey, relax! Don't be so hostile! I just wanted to get to know you a bit better, that's all. Besides, you wanted to know who I am, right?"

You watch as he scribbles something onto a business card.

"Wasn't that only applicable if I won?"

"Eh, I've changed my mind now," he says, handing the card to you. "I don't make deals that don’t pay off and I'd consider it a loss if I didn't get at least your number tonight."

"You still didn't answer my original question. What's someone like you doing all the way out here? Surely you have more important matters to attend to, right?"

He laughs.

"Wow, you really don't know who I am, huh?"

"... What's that supposed to mean?"

"Ah, nothing. Just talking to myself. But to answer your question... I suppose it's because I enjoy the thrill of it. It's like gambling. Not knowing whether you'll win or lose, or even live or die. After all, the higher the stakes, the higher the excitement- why're you looking at me like that?"

"… You're insane."

"Sure, sure, sweetheart. I'll pretend that your reasons aren't the same as mine and that the adrenaline rush doesn't excite you every time. Why else would you willingly race, night after night?"

With one last wink, he gets into his car and drives away. You finally glance at the business card, only to do a double take and gape at it in shock when you realize its contents.

Aventurine, one of the IPC's Ten Stonehearts? No way... this guy's an IPC exec?

You don't know whether to feel proud about the fact that you got an IPC executive's number without trying or humiliated about the whole exchange...

There's a winking smiley face and an "call me xoxo" written next to the phone number.

And against your better judgement, you do just that.

He turns out to be an interesting companion. You'd think that with his demanding position, he'd be traveling all over the galaxy every day- which is true, to an extent, but he's always there for your weekly races and frequently drags you out shopping with him. He teaches you how to play poker and how to count your cards, if you didn't know how to already. He then tries to get you to play a round or two against him, which you promptly refuse each time.

("I spent all that time teaching you how to play and this is what I get in return? Boo, you're no fun. But a round or two never hurt anyone, right?"

"Aventurine, even a round or two is a surefire way to go into debt to you. Absolutely not."

He pouts and grumbles like a little kid every time.)

He also pays for additional mods to your car. When you try to refuse him, he merely brushes off your concerns.

"Sweetheart, I don't think you understand," he said back then. "I make more in a day than what it costs to mod your car. To me, this is nothing. Besides, I want an opponent who can keep up with me. If you start falling behind, well, then that's no fun for both of us, right?"

One night, there’s a particularly high-stakes race that you’re slated to compete in. The cash prize is one that’s too big for anyone to pass up.

Well, except for Aventurine. That amount of money is probably nothing by his standards.

For once, he’s not racing. When it’s your turn, he waves you over with a teasing smile as you’re getting ready.

“Say, how about raising the stakes for tonight?”

“What now?”

“Let’s make a bet.”

“… Fine.”

“If you win, we go on a date together. My treat, of course. If you lose, then you’ll have to play a round of poker with me.”

There isn’t an ounce of shame in his words. You openly gape at him as he beams at you proudly.

“… What?”

“You heard me.”

“Why though?”

He shrugs.

“Simple. I know this is a bet that will pay off. And I’ve been wanting this to happen for a long time now. So…”

He leans in close, lips teasingly brushing over your ear for a moment.

“Don’t disappoint me. I want to see you try and turn the tides in your favor for this race.”

You pull away from him.

“I accept, but only because I am not going into debt because of poker.”

He laughs.

“Go on then, sweetheart. I want to see you leave everyone behind in the dust. Oh, and don’t forget your good luck kiss!”

Aventurine blows a kiss to you. You roll your eyes as you climb into your car. Insufferable, that’s what he is. But if there’s one thing he’s good at, it’s reading people. Meaning he must’ve noticed that you wanted this too.

You roll your neck and focus on the road ahead. The race is about to begin.

That cash prize and date with Aventurine is yours.

[wearebarca]

3. Captured // Alexia Putellas x Original character pt. 3

Part 1 part 2 part 3

synopsis: Rosalie has never stayed too long at the same place. When the opportunity of a lifetime presents itself critical moment in her life, the photographer decides to once again leave behind what she knows and joins the staff of Europe's best football team.

word count: 4,3K

18 + (eventually)

A/N: Hello, notify me if you'd like a little album of the pictures Rosalie takes. Spanish is from google translate so please be nice. French is my first language so all should be good on that part. Enjoy.

The question took the brunette by surprise. She could see that the footballer was getting more comfortable around her but she did not think that the woman would ask such a personal question. The subject had always been quite sensitive for the Canadian but, for unknown reasons she felt that, here, in this empty facility, with the catalonian trusting her with this whole process, she felt like she could share this bit of her story.

“ My uncle was a wedding photographer. When I was younger, he used to bring me with him to some weddings and have me play his little assistant. He would give me one of those single use cameras and tell me to capture what I found beautiful.” The memory put a nostalgic smile to the woman’s face. To this day, she still incredibly misses her uncle and wishes that he could see her today. 

“My parents were busy people, so my uncle took me under his wing. He taught me everything he knew and encouraged me to pursue this passion and helped me make a career out of it.” She raised her camera and snapped a shot of the blond who was listening with a small smile on her face.  “ Can you angle yourself towards the left please?” 

The blond moved to the side and for the first time tonight, really took the time to look at the brunette. Her hair was in a messy bun with a few strands escaping and framing her face. Her high waisted jean shorts showed off her long legs. She had on an oversized gray grandad cardigan on top of her black t–shirt. The sleeves of her sweater were slightly too long and went over her hands. The brunette looked comfortable and at ease, she was relaxed and completely in her element. She looked nothing like the photographer’s Alexia had worked with in the past. She was used to flamboyant people who yelled orders at their models or were constantly harassing her with their camera, not this slightly awkward, caring, beautiful woman who was willingly sharing her story with the footballer.

“ He must be an incredible photographer.”

“ He was yes,” The brunette’s expression dimed at that, Alexia suddenly felt bad for bringing the subject but the smaller woman motionned to her that everything was ok and continued. “  Eleven years ago he was diagnosed with bone cancer. He died a year later, not long after my eighteenth birthday.”  

“ I am sorry,”

“ Don’t be, I’m happy to talk about him,” She said smiling, “ What about you? Why football?”

“ My dad, he loved football. He was always very supportive and proud. He got sick.” The blond said, looking down, not wanting the photographer to see her be vulnerable. Rosalie felt the shift in the atmosphere and put down her camera. “ He said that he would not die before seeing his daughter play for Barcelona’s first team, but he went two months before I reached our goal.” 

The brunette wanted to hug the girl standing in front of her but could not decide if she would be comfortable enough to do so. “ I am sure he is extremely proud of what you have accomplished, La reina”, the name earned the smaller woman an eye roll from the footballer who shifted in a different position for the photographer. 

“ Ok, let’s get this shoot over with, I think we both deserve to go home and finally relax.” They finished up quickly and Rosalie was quite happy with the pictures that came out. While she uploaded the pictures to her computer, the blond helped picking up the equipment. Grateful for her help, the brunette promised the captain that she would bring her coffee next week as a thank you.

They walked out of the empty training center as the sun was starting to set. When the brunette reached her small car, she turned around to see the taller woman standing awkwardly behind her. 

“ I just wanted to thank you for making this shooting so casual and easy.”

“ Of course, anything to make you comfortable, Alexia.” She grabbed the blond’s hand and gave it a light squeeze. “ Have a good weekend Capitana,” 

“Thank you,” The blond started to walk towards her own car but turned back around after a few steps. 

“ Bonne nuit Rosalià.”

The morning air was crisp against her sweat coated skin and the breeze coming from the sea kept the brunette cool even after running for an hour. It was still incredibly early in the morning and the only sounds that could be heard were the odd car passing and the sound of her feet hitting the pavement. Early morning was her favorite time to go run. It allowed her to be completely submerce by the calmness of the still sleeping city. Rosalie didn’t often run with music, preferring to listen to the sounds of her own steps, which acted as some sort of metronome for the torrent of thoughts running in her head lately. 

It had been four days since her shooting with the captain and still, the whole ordeal seemed to be the subject her brain would drift back to whenever the French-Canadian would let her mind run free. The fact that the blond seemed to make tremendous effort to stay as far as she could from the photographer had not helped the questions that were quickly multiplying in her head. 

Rosalie somehow thought that after that night, Alexia would be more approachable and less standoffish. But clearly the woman was not as comfortable as she thought with how vulnerable they had gotten and now she was probably regretting telling the brunette so much. Or maybe she thought that Rosalie went too far by sharing her story with the footballer. Whatever the reason was, the results were still the same. 

Later today, the team will be taking off towards Sevilla for a two day trip. They would all meet at the training center and take the team bus towards the airport. Flying had always been a tricky thing for Rosalie. When she was a teenager she had been on a plane with extremely violent turbulence that had scared the girl and ever since, flying had been one of the woman’s biggest fears. Her friends had always found the thing ironic, since the brunette's job required Rosalie to fly frequently and said that she should’ve gotten used to it by now. But nonetheless, every time the photographer simply thought about flying, she would get restless and anxiety would start creating a pit in her stomach. 

This was the reason why she was currently out at such an ungodly hour, trying to literally run away from her anxious thoughts. Around her she could see that the small coffee shops that were lined on the streets were starting to set up their front patios in order to open and the smell of freshly baked pastries was floating in the morning air. A quick look at her watch told her that she still had a good three hours before Lucy and Keira would arrive at her apartment to pick her up, meaning that she still had time to hit  the half marathon mark before heading back.

She wasn’t used to running this long on morning runs, but she had gone over her training program with Sara, one of the coaches and switched up her training to make it more challenging. So far her breathing was good and she could feel the slight burn of her legs but overall, her pace was good and she was more than satisfied with her time. 

Sara had been a true angel this past week. She had helped the runner organize a new training plan that was focused more on endurance rather than speed. Rosalis had always struggled with long distances which was why marathons were her least favourite type of races. She was extremely hard headed though so she was still focused on mastering this type of event. 

She even went as far as going running with the Canadian during the weekend. She was quite impressed by the level of fitness the brunette was displaying and found that she very much appreciated the company of the French-Canadian. After their run they had stopped at a local café and had agreed to room together during the upcoming trip. 

When Rosalie arrived at her apartment complex, she noticed the couple’s car parked by the door. She checked her watch to see that she technically still had at least an hour and a half before they were supposed to be here. She opened her door to come face to face with a sleeping form on her couch and Lucy running around in her kitchen.the smell of crêpe was wafting in the space.

“ Took you long enough,” The older woman whispered, handing Rosalie a fresh cup of coffee.

“How did you even get in here?”

“ You’re the one who left her door unlocked Rosie, which is not very safe darling you should be more careful.” 

The blob of  blankets on the couch stirred enough to reveal disheveled blond reddish hair. “ Lucy, please shut your mouth. I'm trying to sleep here.”

Rosalie made her  way to the living room and jumped on the woman who screamed at the Canadian to get off.

“ Frenchy you smell like ass go shower, Mama Bronze isn’t done with food anyway.” 

After her shower the brunette put on some comfortable clothes consisting of the staff’s tracksuit pants, a white t-shirt with the Barcelona logo and the Nike club vest that had quickly become one of her favorite articles of clothing. When she came back in the kitchen, everything had been picked up and the kitchen island was dressed up with the food. Lucy and keira were already sitting down and shoveling down food.

“ Mais quel bande d’animal, sincèrement? Vous ne pouviez pas attendre que j’aille fini?”

“ Tais toi femme et viens manger.” Lucy replied with her mouth full.

“ I regret teaching you French, I hope you know that.” She sat down and sipped on her coffee. She wasn’t hungry due to the knot that kept her stomach in check. Knowing that the younger woman would most likely not be able to eat due to her nervousness, Lucy got up and pulled out from the fridge a protein smoothie she had made at home before coming over. 

“Here, at least drink this, you just came back from what I assume was a big run. You gotta put something in you.”

Once breakfast was over, Rosalie finished packing up her camera bag while the girls were loading her bags in the car. The drive to the training center was quiet. Keira was still half asleep and Rosalie was simply too stressed to engage in conversation. Lucy didn’t mind the silence, she was relaxing and enjoying the time spent with two of the most important people in her life. 

The bus ride with the team was more or less the same, with everyone in  pretty much the same state as Keira. As they got closer to the airport, Rosalie’s nerves became worse. Her knee was bouncing up and down and the woman kept zoning out, unable to keep listening to Martina who was going on about a rumor about some people working in management. Thanks to Marcello’s participation in the conversation, Rosalie’s state remained relatively unknown. Or so she thought. 

A few seats behind her, Ingrid, Alexia, Mapi, Keira and Lucy were all sitting together. Knowing that the younger girl was quite fragile at the moment, Lucy had kept a close eye on her. 

“ Hermana, you keep watching Rosie, is everything good?” Mapi wondered, stretching her neck to catch a glimpse of the photographer. 

“She hates flying, it affects her a lot. I just don’t want her to get too bad, you know » Alexia had also noticed the change in the brunette. The normally bubbly woman looked pale and uncharacteristically quiet. 

« Can we do something to help? » Ingrid asked.

« Not really, nothing really distracts her in this situation. We just have to let her process this and stay close, just in case. » Keira replied. They were used to flying with the brunette and had tried everything to help her calm down but nothing really did the trick. She usually would put her headphones in and grip the seat as  hard as she could until they would land. 

Lucy got up and excused herself. Alexia watched her make her way to the front of the bus where the coaches, therapist and the rest of the staff were. “What is she doing?”

“ I think she’s trying to figure out who’s sitting with Frenchy on the plane.” Keira answered, turning towards her girlfriend.

“ They are close, Si?” Alexia’s curiosity had gotten the best of her. She wasn’t jealous, she could see that Lucy and Keira cared a lot about the green-eyed woman and she did not understand why, but she wanted to know as much as she could about her. 

“ Yeah, Like sisters they are. Lucy’s very protective of her, she does have much family. We’re hers now, you know.” Keira smiled as she watched Lucy walk back to her seat, but not without stopping to drop a granola bar on The Canadian’s lap and threatening her to eat it before they boarded. 

“ So who’s with her?” 

“ Apparently she’s the only staff member who didn’t get a ticket in the same area, probably because they booked it after everyone else. She’s gonna sit with the team, but we don’t know our seats yet so..” She said as she sat back down.

“ It’s ok, I can ask whoever is with her to swap with me, I’ll sit with her.” Ingrid said smiling. 

“ Thank you Ingrid,” Lucy said, visibly more relaxed knowing that the brunette would be with someone she seemed to trust.

At the airport, security went smoothly and the team collected their boarding passes only to be called moments later to the gate. The speed at which everything was going was a godsend for Rosalie who was too focused on making sure she had all her documents all the while taking pictures of the team, to have time to think about the moment the wheel of the plane would leave the ground. 

As she walked in the tunnel leading to the aircraft, Rosalie could feel her heart hammering in her chest and her palms getting increasingly sweaty. Lucy’s grounding presence helped the brunette a little but her fear was fighting hard to gain control. The photographer checked her boarding pass for the first time since receiving it to check what seat she had been assigned. 

“ where are you sitting?” The question came from Ingrid who was walking in front of them. 

“ I have B47,” her answer came put a lot more calm than the woman felt as she scanned the seats to find her own. 

“ That's good, Mapi and I are right in front of you,” As she was answering, the Norwegian stopped and picked up her bag to place it in the overhead bin, which told Rosalie that they had reached their seats. She walked the few steps that separated her from her seat, only to come face to face with the woman that had been occupying her mind for the last few days. 

Suddenly, Rosalie’s anxiety found a new target to spiral about. A hand on her shoulder pulled the photographer out of her thoughts. 

“Are you ok? We can sit together if you want? I have a few movies downloaded on my tablet. Mapi can sit with Alexia.” Ingrid asked, smiling softly at the brunette. Rosalie appreciated the dark haired girl but there's one thing that woman hated more than flying, and it was  pity. She knew that they only wanted to help her but she couldn’t help but feel like they were pitying her and she didn't want to appear weak in front of her new team, which is why she politely declined, thanking the couple and placing her belongings in the bin on top of her seat. 

The comotion caught the attention of the blond captain who had not seen who was prepared to sit next to her. She was more than surprised to see the photographer standing in the alley with a nervous small playing on her lips. 

“ Hey,”

“Hola,” Alexia said smiling, picking up her bag from the seat next to her. She sat down next to the blond and closed her eyes to try to calm herself before take off. 

Looking at the brunette, Alexia felt a strange sense of protectiveness wash over her. She wanted to make the brunette feel better, make that smile that takes her breath away appear on the photographer’s soft features. A few seats away, she could see Lucy watch them with a worried expression which Alexia answered with a reassuring smile. She would not let the brunette spiral. 

Surprisingly, Alexia was not the first one to speak. “ I am sorry if I overstepped during the shooting. I didn’t want to male you feel uncomfortable.” She said, eyes still closed and head thrown back. If she was to sit with the blond for this trip, might as well try to make it a little less awkward. 

“ What do you mean?”

“ I don’t know, I just  don’t want you to think that I’m probing your personal life.”

“ No, no I did not think that, do not worry,” the footballer took a second to think about what she was going to say next. She was aware of her own behaviour towards the photographer. The woman made her nervous and she felt like with the brunette, she did not need to put on a controlled facade like with the rest of the media team, and that scared the Ballon d’Or winner. Alexia hated feeling like she wasn’t in complete control of herself, so the easiest solution in her mind was simply to keep her distances. But staying away from the brunette did not appease her curiosity. “ I am very sorry if I made you feel this way. I appreciate your presence Rosalia.” 

The blond’s small confession made Rosalie slightly relax, enough for a small smile to escape her lips. She turned her head towards Alexia, who felt a warm feeling take place at the sight. “ I appreciate your presence as well.” 

The plane jolted, signaling the brunette, who had momentarily forgotten where she was, that they would be taking off very soon. She quickly grabbed the arm rest and panic flooded brain. Alexia, who had seen the brunette deteriorate, did the first thing that came to her mind. She grabbed the hand that was gripping the arm rest and held it with her own. She reached with her other hand and gently turned the photographer’s face towards her. Green met Hazel and the brunette was instantly captured by the depth of the footballer’s gaze. 

“You’re ok, hey look at me, breathe with me ok?” The blond took a deep breath in through her nose and out through her lips. The brunette followed the footballer’s lead, her eyes never straying from Alexia’s. “ bien, lo estás haciendo muy bien”

Alexia’s words ignited a small flame at the pit of the photographer’s stomach which successfully calmed some of the anxiety, but replaced it with an odd feeling that the French-Canadian was simply not ready to face yet. 

“ Here take this, it'll help with the pressure,” the captain pulled out a pack of gum and popped two pieces in Rosalie’s hand. The first bite surprised the photographer who made a face that pulled a chuckle from the footballer. 

“ What kind of psycho chews cinnamon gum?”

“Hey it’s good don’t be mean,” the woman answered with a hurt expression. She could see that Rosalie had calmed down quite a bit, but the deadly grip she still had on the blond’s hand showed her just how sacred the photographer was. Suddenly, they could feel the plane gain some speed and the wheel lifting off the ground. The brunette’s gaze shifted quickly towards the small window as panic clouded her eyes.

“ no, no sigue mirándome” With her hand still on Rosalie’s face, she drew the brunette closer still. Only a few inches separating the two. Rosalie could smell Alexia’s perfume, something sweet, like strawberries. She smelled like summer, it was intoxicating. She didn’t understand what the blond had said but it did not matter, since as soon as her gaze met hers, the blond smiled sweetly and Rosalie forgot once again where she was. 

“ Tell me one of your happiest memories,” The French-Canadian was surprised by the blond’s question. She had gone from ignoring the photographer to taking care of her during takeoff. She knew that Alexia was simply trying to distract her, but the curiosity she could see shining through her eyes made the brunette realize that maybe, the football player didn’t hate her after all. 

“ My first triathlon, it would have to be one of the most meaningful things in my life.” She answered.

“ Tell me about it, si?” 

“ It was a few years ago, my uncle loved triathlons. He used to do one every summer. He also volunteered as a photographer for the races. When I got older I would volunteer with him and he used to say that I would be a great triathlete if I wanted.” She said, smiling at the memory. 

“ He knew that my football days were over since I had gotten injured and needed surgery on my ankle. He said that once I’d be on my feet again I should give it a try. But I used to think that I would hate running, it was the part I hated the most during training.” Rosalie’s expression darkened. 

“When he died, I thought that it would be a good way to honour him in a way, the training was so hard. I had never swum before and my cardio wasn’t great coming back from injury.” She took a deep breath and her gaze left Alexia’s to shift to their intertwined fingers. 

“ But the rush of crossing the finish line was electric. It felt like I made him proud.” She looked back up only to see the captain's face lighting up along with hers. 

A few seats in front of the two, Lucy was witnessing the whole thing along with Keira. They couldn’t believe what they were seeing. In the time they had known her they had never seen her be so relaxed on a plane, nor being so physically close with someone she had just met. She had always been a bit weird about physical touch, it had taken a while before she started to relax whenever the English women hugged her. But at this moment, hand in hand and only a few inches separating their faces, the photographer looked comfortable, happy almost. 

The sound indicating that you could take the seat belts off pulled the two women out of their little bubble. Realizing that she was still gripping the footballer’s hand, Rosalie slowly untangled her fingers from Alexia’s and slightly pulled away from her. 

“Thank you for distracting me,” 

“My pleasure, I am always happy to know more about you Rosalia” The footballer turned around and pulled out her headphones from her case. Rosalie, still surprised by the blond’s statement, put one headphone back in her ear, letting the other one dangle in on her chest and closed her eyes, listening to the calming sound of her music, all the while keeping an ear out in case anything happened. 

A few minutes passed, not much could be heard around. Everyone was either on their phones or had put a movie on their screen. Rosalie could see from the space between seats that Mapi and Ingrid were snuggled up and watching The Lion King on their tablet. An intense shuffling sound pulled her attention away from their screen to see Alexia intensely searching for something in her bag.

“ Ah mierda , where are they?” She sounded frustrated enough for the brunette to lean in to see.

“ Are you ok?”

“ Si, I think I did not bring my headphone charger and they just died,” The blond said frustrated. 

“ Here,” The brunette took her headphone that was resting on her chest and offered it to the footballer. “ we can share if you’d like, I’m not using them both.” She said smiling. 

“ You don’t mind?” 

“Of course not, it’s the least I can do after you helped me like that.” She said, getting closer so the wire wouldn’t pull her other headphone out. “ What do you usually listen to?” 

“ You can leave on what you were listening to, I just don’t like working without music.” The blond said, pulling out her laptop. Rosalie pressed play again and the soft piano song started again in her ear. After a moment, the blond stopped typing and spoke again. 

“ This is nice, very calm, what is it called?” 

“ This is Interlude by this group called London Grammar. The singer’s voice is so powerful, it’s one of my favourite groups.” she said, happy to share her music with the blond.

“ Good, I will look them up then.” The blond went back to her work, softly humming to the music in her ear. Meanwhile, Rosalie was starting to feel like her lack of sleep and intense morning run were slowly taking a toll on her body. Alexia’s calm and grounding presence, along with her perfume that flooded her senses every time she took a breath allowed the photographer to relax enough for her eyelids to become heavy. Slowly her whole body became heavy and her head lolled to the side, resting gently on Alexia’s shoulder. 

At the contact, the footballer went rigid, but relaxed as soon as she realized that the photographer had finally succumbed to sleep, after being on edge all morning.  Knowing she could not work without disturbing the brunette, Alexia closed her laptop and relaxed in her seat, letting the soft music guide her towards sleep as well.

A/N: feedback is appreciated

[antlered-prince]

The ValRayne Faeu Masterpost

Decided to finally make a masterpost for @owl-bones and I's fae au! This will be updated when I remember and contains all the relevant info and designs you might want (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

You can find more under the #valrayne-faeu tag on both of our blogs. Feel free to also use this tag or tag either of us in anything you make!

Last updated: 2/7/2024

Designs

Finished Dream (full body soon) Blue (will get a slight revamp) Ink Nightmare Killer (will also get a small revamp) WIPs Horror Dust (wings) Cross Error (wings)

How tall is everyone?

World Building

Designing OCs/Self-Inserts - ONE | TWO | THREE | FOUR Can a human become fae? And visa versa? What kind of insect wings are associated with each court? What determines which Court you end up in? Rejecting becoming fae What if a fae tears off their own wings? Trying to return to the mortal realm early after being trapped Primary rules of interacting with the fae How big are the fae? What does the fae realm look like? How do you get to the fae realm? What might the fae find intriguing enough to take someone to their realm? Is there something unpleasant about the fae realm? Why wouldn't people enter the fae realm willingly? What would happen if you trick and fae instead? If a fae steals a concept can you trade it back? Iron, rowan and four leaf clovers What if a mortal manages to escape? Can fae and humans have children? Changelings Can fae be killed in some way? Do the Courts overlap our world? How knowledgeable is the average mortal? How do fae feel about Integrity souls? What is the aspect of Integrity souls that fae share? Why do fae trick people? Do fae normally have so many names? Enemies/Predators of the fae? How is a fae born? How were Dream and Nightmare born? Who is the most dangerous? Where do Dream and Nightmare stand in regards to each other?

Character Specific Asks

Dream If you can't lie, why avoid eye-contact? (Art) How can we trust you if you could be lying? Some insight on Fae Dream If Dream finds humans so interesting, why does he change them? Bird MC Drabble (ft Dream & Nightmare) Bird MC Drabble - Does Dream feel remorse? Bird MC Drabble - Can we make him understand the culture difference? Bird MC Drabble - Is there anything we can say to change his mind? What would Dream do in exchange for affection? (Art) Why is affection a big deal? Anonymous Dream Drabble He's totally non-threatening guys (Art)

Blue Blue and his conflicting values and nature (Art) I'd let him trick me (Art) I want to hug him! (Art) Who did this to you? (Scar)

Ink I'd use him as a model for painting (Art) What can I get with..... (Art)

Nightmare What is Nightmare's goal? Does Nightmare have a favourite trick? What would happen if he met his match? What's the best deal Nightmare has made? (Art) I would die to get my hands on that book What flowers are in the book? Nightmare's favourite flower? What would he want in exchange for a kiss? (Art) If we stay, would he be willing to give us information instead? If I stay for the (eternal) evening, where would I stay? What happens if we fall asleep in his library? (notes on Dream's garden & library) Nightmare would move us? (Library) If I asked for a hug, would he give one? Can I pet his wings? What is Nightmare's favourite noise/sound? Nightmare's wings (Art)

Killer What's Killer's favourite trick?

Dust What is Dust like?

Multiple Characters Who stole the ability to lie? Who is the liar theory (Art) Who would appreciate mortals being hard to trick? Names that Dream and Nightmare have collected Any Papyrus-type fae? (OG AUs design ideas) Can I hug Dream and Nightmare? Dream and Nightmare - Someone who didn't want to leave (Abusive family) Which fae are most likely to accidentally in-debt themselves? Someone staring while they talk because their voice is pretty (Reactions)

Other helpful refs

Beetle wing origami

[lowkeyrobin]

Hello! I was wondering if you could please do newt (platonic/familial) with a younger sibling who makes/mends close and personality wise is similar to Luz from TOH? Thank you! :D

yesyesyesyesyesywsyes omg please keep the maze runner requests coming I'm very very fixated atm kdk how to function, PLEASE SPAM ME W TMR REQS RJNENE ; anyways thank you for requesting, hope you enjoy!! ; post writing robin here, I tried with the personality like Luz but I struggled for some reason so I'm so sorry about that LMAO

NEWT ; clothing maker/mender

summary ; you make and mend clothing around the Glade, and Newt is somehow always there to help

warnings ; language, Newt is still a runner so pre-injury era

genre ; platonic fluff

word count ; 1.1k

masterlist

The day you came up in the box, you were frightened and felt like you didn't fit in with the other kids of the Glade. You were socially awkward and didn't know how to talk to people, although being a people pleaser.

Talking was just hard for you, but luckily, Newt understood. He tucked you under his wing and tried to help you fit in with the others, but to no avail. Nothing was sticking out to you, it wasn't like jobs were supposed to be enjoyable but you truly couldn't fit in anywhere. The fifteen year old boy with dirty blonde hair was there for you, though, reassuring you that actually becoming a Glader, even after remembering your name, took time.

Becoming a Runner was off the table at day one, you had zero stamina and could barely run for shit, let alone your life, you and Newt, and Alby, Minho, and the other Runners quickly agreed upon that. Being a Builder was quickly eliminated as well, because you didn't want to deal with obnoxious assholes like Gally, Hank, and Alec all day long. Plus, you knew nothing about "structural integrity" or whatever the hell they were talking about anyways, wood to hammer to nail was all you saw.

You quickly gained a friendship with Winston after a month or two in the Glade, but no way in Hell were you joining the Slicers either. You'd gain an emotional attachment to the animals much too quickly to then watch them die, the emotional despair would be a bit much at the moment. Bagger was also off the charts, leaving Med-Jack and Track-Hoe on the table for you.

Newt wasn't going to let you become a Slopper, considering you weren't bad at helping people nor farming, you just had to find your thing that you'd be comfortable doing. So, you settled on Track-Hoe as they needed more help in the gardens and you wouldn't mind getting your hands dirty, with dirt, that is. No blood.

You found, or maybe relearned, your nick for sewing one morning as you needed to repair your shirt, and ran straight to Newt with your new talent. After seeing it himself, Newt quickly bounced to Alby's side to ask if you could make mending and making clothes your job. You hadn't had any luck finding a job out of the many in the Glade, clearly, so this might've been your luck turning.

The next coming days were slow. Thankfully, Alby approved your idea of a new job, considering you and Newt wouldn't stop pestering him about it, and it'd be a great convenience to have you around for something as necessary as clothing. The builders graciously built you a little hut next to the Homestead to give you your own little place to go and work, instead of working around the Glade and potentially dirty-ing the clothes you fixed and made.

The hut consisted of a table, a loom, a hanging rack for finished projects, and a little chest system organized by all the threads, needles, etcetera. Alas, Newt was the one to help you with your new job on days when he wasn't running out in the maze. Minho switched him out with Ben or George on those days as per his request, as to help you learn how to talk to and understand the Gladers, whom you didn't understand too well yet.

But, by the time the next Greenie, Henry, arrived, you were right on track. You modeled and measured and patched and sewed your days away, finding peace in the seemingly boring activity. And by this time, Newt had become your brother figure and your best friend, considering how much he understood and supported you and helped you get some great opportunities around the Glade. And now, you were the Keeper of the Seamers, the only worker, but still the Keeper.

After a long day of running in the maze with Minho, Newt jogs to your expansion of the Homestead, desiring your help.

"Hey, Shank" He warmly smiles, closing the door made of sticks behind him. "How's your day been?"

You shrug in response. "Slow. Need me to fix anything for you?"

He awkwardly smiles and nods, looking down at his knees. His cargo pants are ripped, and the skin beneath painted a light red in comparison to his pale complexion, rug burns covering his kneecaps.

"Tripped and fell out in the maze" He explains, "Just don't want them falling apart because it kinda trailed 'round to the back" He says, tracing the little rips around his knees.

You nod. "I mean, the best solution would be keeping them like that or turning them into shorts for hot days. But I know the maze is cold and stuff, so, your call. I don't wanna ruin your running pants but I can always scrounge up new ones, and the next Greenie will be up in two days so it wouldn't be that long of a wait-"

"I'll just keep them ripped" He lightly smiles, cutting your rant off.

He knew damn well to not let you spiral over something so little, so he developed the radar to sniff out when you were about to rant about small things for an hour out of panic. He pats your shoulder before sitting down next to you, looking over at the rack of finished clothing you'd patched up and finished making.

"Oh, were you able to finish that shirt you were making for yourself?" He asks, running a hand through his hair.

Lord, he needed a haircut, although the best method of that was knives, which made it all choppy and blunt. Hopefully, WCKD would send up some cutting shears or something soon. All of your hair needed a cut desperately.

You nod, setting your needle and thread down to go grab it. You pull it off the rack and hold it to your chest. A simple, thin, off white, long sleeved shirt rests against your torso as you cheesily smile at him.

"Looks good"

"Thanks" You put the shirt back on the rack, deciding to put it back in the Homestead near your hammock later.

Newt was usually very supportive and went out of his way to show appreciation and reassurance for you, though making it casual to actually feel real for you. Once he found out that he needed to speak with you like that after reassuring that you'd live without rain, he learned the lesson.

Before you can speak again, Ben runs in, looking for your help.

"Y/n, I ripped up the sleeve of my shirt, can you fix it?" He asks, holding the grey-blue shirt up for you to see

"Yeah, sure, leave it on that table" You reply, pointing at the table in front of you.

"Thanks, you're the best!" He says, setting the shirt on the table before leaving.

Newt looks up at you and smiles, "You're getting used to talking to people, I see"

You nod, catching his infectious smile.

"Welcome to the Glade, Y/n/n"

[sage-green-matcha]

STAB - ETHAN LANDRY 🔪

Billy and Stu? Nah, Y/n and Ethan 😋

Content includes: Bimbo!Reader, sweet gf! Ethan Landry, gf!Reader, mentions of blood, killing, shooting <3

A/n: I love stu sm and I would 100% be that type of gf 🤭

<3

<3

<3

"My mom and dad are gonna be so mad at me!" You cried, holding the stab wound Ethan had done on you.

"Shut up Y/n!...You look good by the way" he mumbled, watching as Sam held a panicked look in her eyes. "This literally sucks! You said we could..." The pain was too much, stopping you in your tracks.

"What? Yea, we can still go on a date, but we have work to do" he sighed, rubbing his temples. "You said this would be fun!" You squirmed, wiping the blood that was seeping out of your slashed shirt.

"This is fun, sweetheart!" You rolled your eyes, taking deep breaths to distract yourself from the pain. "It's not fun! Babe, you literally stabbed me! You said we could just use the fake blood on me!" You groaned.

"It's not believable like that!" He spat, dropping the ghost face mask next to him.

"Are we gonna finish this or what? I can't die! I have a fucking final next week" you cursed, limping over to Ethan.

"Yea, can you still walk?" Ethan asked, placing his hand around your waist. "I'll be fine"

Sam finally broke out of her trance, running towards Tara. To say she was shocked would've been a lie. She basically already knew it was you and Ethan, you two came out of nowhere.

"I got the gun, who do you want me to kill first?"

"Go wild, sweetheart"

His words gave you confidence, bullets being shot as everyone ran. "Got one!" You smiled excitedly, watching as Mindy tumbled to the ground. "Always hated that bitch, talks too much" you mumbled, holding your wound as you looked for the others.

All the doors were locked, the windows were boarded up. There was no way for all of them to escape.

You and Ethan eventually killed off the rest, Sam being the last one. You had shot her in the stomach, waiting for Ethan to finish the job.

"Fucking...pathetic" her words were mumbled, her blood mixing in with the one of her sisters and Highschool friends. "Shut up!" You hit her with your gun, blood spilling from her mouth. "You know I'm...right. He had you kill them because he's too scared"

You glanced at Ethan, his eyebrows furrowed. "Come on babe, show her. Show her you're not scared to fucking kill her!" You yelled, frustration running through your laugh. You kicked her in the ribs, watching as she yelped in pain.

Ethan just stood above her, he had only killed Tara so far. "Are you gonna do it? Your dad would be so proud Eth..." You smiled, his expression changed as you waited, tears falling from Sam's face.

He needed time, time to watch as she suffered the same way his brother did. Richie was never a good role model, not even a good brother. But Ethan knew this would gain him his dad's respect, and that was all he had ever wanted.

"It's okay, I can wait for you" Your glistening doughy eyes made him melt. He had to do this for you too.

He pulled his gun out, his eyes watching carefully as a loud gunshot went off. Sam Carpenter was finally dead. He expected himself to feel better. He thought that the feeling of loneliness would fade with each second that she suffered.

But he felt the same. He felt like a sidekick, he felt useless. And it's not like he even did this in honor of Richie. He didn't do it for himself. He did it for you and his dad.

"So...what do we do now?" You honestly didn't expect to be the first successful ghost face. When you mentioned the idea to Ethan he was on board right away. You guys had only taken the plan this far and now you had no idea what to do.

"I guess we clean up now..."

You cringed at Ethan's words, a frown on your face. "Weren’t we just gonna say we got attacked and were the only ones that survived?"

"Hmm yea, I guess. I didn't do that stab wound on you for nothing. But I will admit, you look really cute limping around”

You rolled your eyes, bumping his shoulder as you walked past him. "You're lucky I didn't stab you back.”

[queenie-avenue]

I love the ceo/Adrian but can you do one of a yandere reader like you did for academic rival.

Pretty please 🥺

A Gentleman's Confrontation.

💌 ⤻ THE CEO, ADRIAN HOUDE

—> you're a creep, he's obsessed; a matchmade in hell!

⤻ reader is gender neutral, possessive thoughts, obsessive thoughts, crimes against the reader, invasion of privacy, typical yandere behaviour, filming without consent

notes: all ya'll are little creeps but i love all of you. thank you for saying please, anon. mwah!

🦋 ⤻ archives.

You had been obsessed with Adrian Houde since the moment you heard him compliment your name. Your heart practically swelled each time he came to check in on the fashion department, always managing to catch his eye and smiling at him shyly. You even went into his office a few times — unaware he was the one who personally requested you — to present the pitches for fashion shows and the budget needed for your department despite it being out of your pay grade.

You did it all so you could see his face.

So you could look into those hypnotising hooded blue eyes of his, so cold you could almost die from hypothermia when you stare at them.

Still, you always stared.

It started off as a little crush. You finding him attractive — who didn't, really — and unconsciously drawing him in your many sketches as a model.

Then, it turned a little crazy.

You started nabbing a few things each time you went into his office. A pen, a tie he abandoned on the chair, a crumpled buck that you saw him touch. It was all yours for the taking.

Still, you kept a distance from Adrian, ensuring he would never take things too personally. After all, he was the most eligible bachelor perhaps in the whole world, and you were just some low-level intern who didn't even get paid well enough to be in his tax bracket. So while you were delusional, you kept that side of you to yourself.

Till you were caught, of course.

✧ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ✧

Adrian's blue eyes pierced into yours as both of his hands pinned you against the wall. His blonde hair tousled, framing his face perfectly. If not for the tense situation, you would have thought whether he had a hairstylist that did all this work for him or whether he was just that good.

“I've been watching.” His voice, clear as his icy gaze, spoke out. “Did you know there's a camera in this office?” He refrained from telling you about the cameras he planted at your desk.

“Oh.” Was the only thing you could say as your eyes went down to his lips, guilty of lusting for him, even now.

“I could get you fired for this.” He whispered, pursing his perfect lips as he leaned closer to you, head going down to your neck, to savour the taste of your scent. His nose grazing against your neck as you groaned. “Just what were you thinking?” He whispered, hot breath hitting your neck as he gazed at you. “It's like you're giving me permission to…” He didn't dare finish his sentence as you stayed there, pinned against the wall.

Knowing that you were just like him, that you liked to rummage through his things like he did to your desk when night fell; were you trying to kill him? He was a gentleman, he was taught to always be a good man to anyone he was romantically interested in, to be cordial and kind but you doing that just made him want to lock you up. You doing that was like you giving subtle confirmation you wanted him too, no? “I'm trying to be good for you.” He breathed out, one of his arms going down to your waist.

His eyes met yours and you swore you saw tears in his eyes. “I really like you, [y/n].” He confessed suddenly, causing your eyes to widen.

Of all the people you would have thought would have a crush on you in the office, it was the head honcho himself. The one you stole things from, the one who stole your heart.

“Those things you did, the things I saw in my camera… does that prove you like me too?” He felt himself cringe at his words, feeling like a high school student confessing to his crush. “Please tell me that's a yes, I've been waiting so long just to- just to-” Just him speaking was enough to drive your breath away. He was breathing heavily too, like being in your presence banished all thoughts of oxygen away from his mind; his brain focusing on you and only you, prioritising you over oxygen.

“You have to say yes.” It was like in that brief moment, the gentleman you had always know Adrian Houde to be suddenly disappeared, his warm blue eyes filled with frightening obsession.

“Say yes. Please. I won’t let you out of this office till you say yes.” Well, that certainly tempted you to not say anything. Being able to be trapped between his arms was like a dream come true, but you also desperately wanted him to be aware of your feelings.

“Yes. I like you too, I love you.” You stumbled over your words.

“Are you sure that’s what you want to say?” He asked.

You felt a sense of dread travel through your bones at his inquiry, forcing you to rethink your answer. However, your answer was clear as day, he wanted you and you wanted him. “Yes. I’ve been obsessed with you since the moment we met at that office.” You confessed.

Adrian’s eyes widened as he realised that you — his sweet intern, the light of his life — was also the same as him. No, you would never be the same. You would never be as unhinged as he would be for you. You had no idea just how crazy he was for you.

He could list down all the crimes and perverse things he did for you against his own morals.

He had stolen your notebook and scanned it just so he could fixate on your handwriting, he had installed a hidden camera under and on your desk just to see how your body moved, he had investigated every part of you to the point he could recite the measurements of your body from his mind. You would never be as crazy as he was for you, but it felt good to know you thought you were.

“Confirm it again.” He said, his gravelly voice turning cold like the times you had heard him talk during meetings; the perfect businessman. “If you do, I want to let you know that you won’t be able to leave my side. Even if you wanted to.”

You didn’t take his words seriously.

“I’m not playing, sir.” God, he loved it when you called him sir. “I really… do like you.”

He snapped and grabbed your waist and pulled you up, slamming your cute little butt onto his desk. “I hope you won’t regret this.” Adrian whispered as he ran a hand through his golden-blonde hair, another hand reaching for his tie and loosening it in a way that made your mouth water. "Because I'll make sure you fall so deeply in love with me we'll go tumbling to hell."

You didn’t even realise he was so close until it was too late and his lips claimed yours.

The kiss was sloppy and desperate, his tongue overlapping yours in a sensual dance. He licked your lips, you bit his, your tongues explored each other needily. His palm on the back of your head, holding you in place so you could not escape. Slowly, his lips descended down to your neck, hungrily licking and biting as you let out breathy gasps.

“You won’t be able to leave me after this. I need to take responsibility, and you do too.”

[sufferu]

Did you read that WHDAAA spin-off fic by Vyazov23 called Watching Arc 4 in The Theater of Despair ? Any things you liked and have problems with?

I did! I appreciated that the guy managed to actually FINISH a react fic lol: I’m realizing more and more that these things are a pain and a half to actually write. SERIOUS props to the one who actually managed to pull it off, I’m not even being sarcastic.

Though, to be entirely honest…I disagreed with the entire main premise regarding how the characters would react, lol. I actually don’t want to shit on a singular work, though — especially not one that had so much effort put into it, like goddamn the guy actually FINISHED that one — so I’m gonna go ahead and use this as a segway to talk about the most common usages of this trope that I disagree with in this fandom.

The idea that anyone would learn about Return By Death and go “Okay! This is a good thing, and Subaru is a hero!” — I feel like it goes against the themes of Re:Zero, as well as a lot of established characterization. (And also the harem subplot that often seems to go alongside that idea, lol.) And I feel like a react fic that goes over the experiences of Return By Death, furthermore, should be centered around the characters coming to terms with (or grappling with, anyway) the fact that they FUCKING KILLED HIM. Like, SOO many times. Rem and Ram, in particular, should be characterized as absolutely, irreconcilably devastated by what they did in Arc 2. In fact I actually have a lot of criticisms about how these fics tend to characterize a lot of these characters in general, especially Julius, Ferris, Wilhelm, and Rem. Rem is simple — I don’t agree with the idea that she is actually a good influence (or that the other characters would see her as such, more on that in a sec) — but for the other three…I think a lot of these fics tend to twist themselves in knots trying to make them approve of Subaru’s self-destructive behavior, despite all three of them having canon moments contradicting it.

Julius’ first appearance was him desperately trying to save Subaru from getting slaughtered and most of the subsequent scenes with him have included something about him either trying to be a good role model (that will help Subaru Not Die Horribly) or taking some step to actively keep him safe (whether that be going out of his way to teach him a hands-on lesson about self-awareness the moment they meet up again post-Whale or quietly sticking Ia on him without letting him know). Hell, it’s heavily implied that he associated Subaru with his beloved, sickly, baby brother pre-Gluttony. The knowledge that Subaru has apparently been not just getting regularly put in mortal danger, but not even getting out of it ALIVE in a lot of cases — I think he’d have a way worse reaction to that than is normally shown.

Wilhelm, too — not enough focus is given to the fact that Subaru’s situation is basically just a worse version of the one that Theresia was forced into by being the Sword Saint. Wilhelm went and dueled his wife specifically to free her from the shackles of being forced to wield a sword when all she really wanted to do was care for flowers. Hell, in canon he already has a scene where he refuses to keep training Subaru because he realizes that Subaru has no actual interest in the sword and does not want to facilitate that kind of self-destruction. Wilhelm would have a fucking seizure if he learned that his beloved not-grandson was being forced to die repeatedly in order to keep his loved ones safe. And he’d probably have a really horrible reaction to the idea that some of those loved ones were straight up RESPONSIBLE for some of those deaths. This is the man who spent 14 years hunting the White Whale, he’s second only to Otto when it comes to revenge schemes (and even then it’s debatable who comes out on top over there).

Ferris, though, gets it hands-DOWN the worst. First reason is that the fact that he would almost certainly have the absolute worst reaction to the PREMISE of Return By Death out of the entire cast (due to his strong value of life and pride as a healer) is — often completely glossed over. This is the same guy who grieved suicidal Witch Cultists, was referenced as one of the two bleeding hearts of the Witch Cult elimination squad (the other being Subaru), who (in the LN) had what sure looks like a breakdown at the idea that Subaru wanted to die during that one Arc 3 loop where he went into shock, to the point where Crusch had to step in and speak (even joke) on his behalf as he basically sat in the corner with his head in his hands, cursing Subaru for not valuing his own life. If Ferris ever finds out about RBD he’s gonna fucking kill himself. But then, on top of that, he so often gets reduced to this — purely antagonistic force that just hates Subaru for no reason, who needs to learn to respect Subaru as a hero for his sacrifices, in a way that just — not only is kinda mean spirited, but completely glosses over some of the most fascinating parts of his character.

Also — I feel like a lot of these fics have the characters reacting like Subaru is an anime character to them rather than their friend, if that makes sense. Like, some of the reactions we see end up being like…the typical fan reaction to scenes? Instead of how someone would react if that were a Real Person up there doing that shit. Rem, in particular, is cut WAAAAY too much slack in most react fics, with everyone pretty much losing their anger towards her after hearing her tragic backstory and then glossing over everything she does in Memory Snow and Arc 3 with “Hah, that’s cute.” Like — I’m sorry, I think there should be a bit of a reaction to the revelation that the person who tortured Subaru for HOURS on end spent the next month sneaking into his room to watch him while he slept, following him around constantly, and enabling all of his bad behavior (which is now very obviously just a collection of trauma responses) like the world’s most dedicated Yes man (with the singular exception being the “From Zero” speech). Also, so much of what she does to him pre-Gluttony is just — horrible? And would be seen as such by the other characters, who do not have the same sense of naïveté/love of waifus/lack of self-preservation instincts that Subaru does to prevent him from seeing Rem for the danger that she is.

And well — I don’t think there’s enough consideration given to the fact that, most of the time, these characters already know how things are going to end, since they have their own memories to use for reference. Most of the time, they already KNOW whether Subaru is gonna survive or not, and that should impact how they respond to what they see next.

[idyllcy]

from one admirer to another : how do you like your eggs?

pairing: leon kennedy x reader || masterpost: from one admirer to another

synopsis: from one admirer to another, an online penpal service, allows for two people with common interests to write to each other without ever revealing their actual address! Luckily for both you and Leon, you get matched up! What do eggs and Christmas even have in common anyway? sure hope it's that modeling business and NOT that Ada Wong addiction.

featuring: reader as scrambled eggs // leon as christmas

Dear scrambled eggs:

it feels strange to write to someone in such a format, but I suppose I should get used to it. We got paired up via from one admirer to another because of our shared passion for Ada Wong. I find it a little amusing that someone else just straight-up put a model's name instead of modeling on its own, but I'm glad you did.

As an ada stan, I feel the need to ask this immediately. How did you feel about her helicopter shoot? I'm hoping you aren't some weird stan like those... yeah. Also, while on that topic, if you're really as die-hard as me when I have free time, you should read glhf <3 by okaokra on ao3. It's gender-neutral, it's a great fic, unless, of course, you're too normal for reading fanfiction. In that case, maybe we can find another middle ground aside from Ada Wong.

Right, I forgot to introduce myself. I'm user Christmas, a weird translation + twisting of my real name. I live in Raccoon City, and I model as a part-time job because of ... you guessed it, Ada. My dream role is to model with her, but considering that I'm only a local model, this is truly out of my reach. Maybe some strike of luck will help me?

I used to dream of being a cop until I got scouted off the street by some guy for modeling. Do you think I suit it? Who am I kidding, you have no idea what I even look like. Maybe you pass me on the covers of local magazines all the time if you live nearby. I'm not nearly as famous as Ada Wong, though, so I suppose I can never truly call myself a big model until I become someone like her. Even then, she's not a supermodel.

Tell me more about yourself, maybe? What's your favorite holiday? How do you like your eggs in the morning? Do you even eat eggs? Why the name "scrambled eggs" over anything else? What do you do in your free time— oh, I should answer that question.

I seldom have free time lately, but I feel like all I've been doing late is reading the fic that I mentioned earlier. Oh, right, hopefully you enjoy the sticker I got from a fan gathering. I did a little bit of research, and it seems pretty normal to send your penpal small trinkets in the letters, so we'll start with a sticker.

I thought the mail would be digital, and then I was notified that you would prefer physical mail — which, to be fair, I'm not complaining about. I think it would be funny to open a box of letters exchanged between a penpal and I 10 years down the line. Who knows, maybe you'll even be at my wedding.

Right, my apologies for a long first letter, but I'm excited to be starting this.

signing off, Christmas

Leon sends the mail the next morning, rubbing his eyes slowly as he rides the public transport to his next shoot, waving good morning to his manager as he sips on his coffee, hair blushed back and gelled, formal clothes handed to him. Leon finds that he doesn't really suit clothes like this, but for the camera, he puts up with just about everything. He finds it interesting that he would be modeling in clothes he hadn't liked wearing all that much.

"You have another shoot later today, and then you're off for the rest of the weekdays. You have another shoot over the weekend."

Leon nods, blinking slowly as the coffee shoots through his system and he's revived magically. It feels unreal. He's working as a model despite finishing the police academy at the top of his class. Is this what delusion and some sweet talking from a random agent can do to a person? It feels a little wasteful to let his training turn into this, but he's not complaining all that much. Yet. he meets eyes with the model he's supposed to be posing with, blinking in surprise. Wow. That appearance is lethal.

He waves at you, giving you a small smile as you wave back, smiling back.

"New?"

"Mm... moreso someone who doesn't like booking. My manager booked this months in advance, so I'm here." You stay still as the makeup artist finishes with you, Leon raising a brow as you give him a cheeky grin.

"Did you leave before your makeup was finished?"

"I wanted to meet you. I heard I was modeling with someone pretty well-known." You grin. "Leon Kennedy, was it?"

"Yes. Am I that big now?"

"Mm... you're quite a name amongst us local models." You tap your chin. "It's quite an honor modeling with you. I heard you have deadly biceps."

"Well, you can't see them through the suit."

"It comes off, no? I'll just fix it." You tilt your head.

"And how do I know you won't jump my bones?"

"Oh, please. I'm your coworker right now. I'm not someone sketchy." You roll your eyes, helping him free an arm as he flexes for you. You blink at his arms, raising a brow as you stare up at him. "Can I squeeze?"

"As long are you're not weird about it."

You grab his bicep, giving it a squeeze as you nod slowly. "God, I need your arm routine. You got a trainer? I'd like to get that contact."

Leon rolls his eyes, fighting the blush that threatens to creep up his neck from your skin contact. God, what is he? fourteen? Get a grip, Leon. "Gotta get that from my manager, then."

"Shame." You sigh, helping him put the suit jacket back. "Maybe the next time I bump into you, I'll have biceps of a greek god too."

"Leon, model two! You two are up!"

"Wow, they don't even name you?"

"Maybe I just like being mysterious."

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