#i was bothering my coworkers endlessly about it

[kata-the-bee]

Okay, smartasses, I’ve seen more than enough! We, the WORMAGEDDON™, are the ones pranking people, not the other way round. So you better stop pranking her, she is under MY protection now!

Helianthine has a message for the anons out there trying to take advantage of Val's... specific brand of intelligence. Beware, she is a tough cookie...💙

Oh crap, the dandelion has spoken! And she means business!

Also holy crapa the way you drew Valefar is SO DAMN CUTE!!! Look at her silly little face, she is so fluffy and innocent!!!! I am in absolute awe and it's made my day!!

[angeliteeyes]

Hihi

Could we get reader S/O who is getting harassed/bullied somewhere like work and their partner finds out? I’m kind of curious how a jokey character like Hu Tao would react or handle this situation but if you would have another character you would prefer that’s cool too.

Have a lovely time of day!

Hehehe... Hu as in "Who upset my darling S/O?" and Tao as in "They need to geT OUt!" Hehe.... No, not funny?

Lmao anyway—hope you enjoy ;p

Hu tao x Reader - How She'd React to Finding Out You're Being Bullied at Work

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤

You weren't always like this.

Hu Tao knows your reaction to her startling you like the back of her hand—or at least, she used to. Heaven knows how many times she's coaxed it out of you, after all; the way your eyes would widen in shock as you let out a shrill little shriek was simply too adorable to pass up. But lately... something has been off. Your muscles would tense far tighter than they used to. When your eyes met, they bore into hers the way a scared stray's would, an innate layer of fragility coating them. And perhaps worst of all, you lost your signature smile when you finally recognized her, it being replaced with a fake, plastic mockery of the joyful expression she loves so dearly.

That same fauxness appears every time your job comes up in discussion, she's noticed. Time and time again, it's always the same pleasantries about work going "well", and never any actual details, despite her regular poking and prodding. You also get particularly cagey when the topic of coworkers pops up and endlessly end up shying away from further questioning, much to her chagrin.

As she paces around her abode, the weight of her dilemma presses against her tiny shoulders. How is she supposed to help you out when you won't even tell her what's going on? Oh, if only she could just curse whatever pesky person's bothering you...

Her feet come to a halt.

"Curses, huh..." An eerie grin stretches across her face as her eyes narrow in mischievous excitement. Soon, the walls echo with bone-chilling giggles, the kind only someone with as strange a sense of humor as her could produce.

"I guess I can figure something out after all."

-

Hu Tao's odd behaviors were nothing new to you, including her strange penchant for gifting you items you couldn't recognize. Whenever you'd ask about their meaning, her answers were, at best, roundabout and unclear. At worst, she'd merely giggle creepily, following with cryptic deflections. Things like that you "shouldn't worry about it" or "you'll understand eventually".

Perhaps that's why, as she determinedly pushes an amulet into your palms right before work with a stern warning to keep it on the whole workday, you listen without question. Why wouldn't you? As much as you aren't anywhere near as skilled or knowledgeable in spiritual matters as her, you knew better than to doubt her own talents and wisdom. That's practically a death wish (both literally and figuratively).

It's only once your colleague comes over that the true meaning behind her actions becomes clear. You brace yourself, awaiting a crude string of words like you've come to expect, when—

Growwwllllll.

The two of you stand in confused silence for a second, processing the sound. More important than the actual noise, though, is the source of it. And based on the way that they're clasping their arms over their stomach... No way. Really?

Grooooowwwwlllllll.

Even louder this time, you stare in complete bewilderment at the sight before you. At this point, they've hunched over so severely that they're basically bowing at you, a gesture you know for a fact they'd never do under any other circumstance. It's taking everything within you not to burst out into laughter, honestly, but you somehow manage to hold it back. Just in time, too, as they sheepishly whisper an excuse to leave and run off towards the nearest restroom.

On a typical weekday, their comments would stab at you like thorns all throughout it. Not today, though. Turns out their intestinal issues put them out of commission for the rest of your shift, granting you much-needed peace and quiet. You would feel sorry for them, but... well, what goes around comes around, right?

You pull out your newly acquired amulet and smile—a real, earnest one this time. As much of a jokester as Hu Tao may be, you know better than anyone else how serious she gets when it comes to important matters. Even if her methods still retain her signature eccentricity, the heart behind them was, and always has been, painfully sincere.

-

As you return to your shared home, a familiar face pokes out from behind the entranceway walls, goofy grin and all. Her eyes are swimming with amusement and anticipation as they make contact with yours.

"Yo! How did work go? Anybody end up bothering you?" Her tone is laced with joyful giddiness as she awaits your response.

The mention of your job stirs up plenty of negative emotions and discomfort—or at least, it would've any other day. But this time, a wave of relief courses through you, finally understanding that you don't have to struggle on your own any longer. You pull her into a warm hug and gently nestle into her. This time, she's the one that ends up wide-eyed in surprise, her normal fiery energy temporarily being quenched by your arms.

"I had a wonderful day. Thank you."

A few quiet seconds pass before you feel her own limbs snake around your torso. It's moments like these in which you get to glimpse a softer, shyer side of your lover, an honor you try to cherish every chance you get.

After some time, Hu Tao pulls herself back and, to your surprise, she's now pouting at you. Usually, this expression of hers is reserved for petty attempts to get out of things like chores or consequences for her pranks that went too far, yet the one before you right now feels different. Softer, perhaps.

"Just don't hide this sort of thing from me again, got it? It's no fun when you get all sad and mopey." Her face contorts, an attempt to make her pout and words appear more playful. You're not buying it, though. And so, you respond to her thinly veiled plea with the genuine affirmation she desires.

"I promise."

[vandal-flower]

All I Feel, is Rage...

Ror men with their s/o is experiencing her Feminine Rage Era.

Requested Characters: Various.

Notes: It's my first time writing something about this, please have mercy...

He is Confused.

Don't get him wrong, he absolutely loves you, and for everything you are, but to see you in a state like this puts him on ...edge to say the least.

He's heard about this feminine rage era through other beings, hearing its just a trend. However, to see it right infront of his eyes. Damn...

He's concerned for you, but according to the manual guide on, "How to Fully Support Your Partner" , by the valkyries, he's supposed to just calm you down, and agree with what you have to say.

No matter how wrong it is.

HERCULES, Jack the Ripper, Sasaki Kojiro, ARES, and anyone else on your mind...

He's awfully entertained.

Don't get him wrong. He feels awful for what you're going through. But honestly, he finds it hard not to laugh.

How is it possible that someone, or some people have made you so angry, that you turn out like this?

Feminine rage era you say? Well, this one is for the books. Don't worry he'll listen to what you have to complain about, but he isn't letting this down any time soon...

LOKI, Shiva, Hermes, Qin Shi Huang, BUDDHA, and anyone else on your mind...

He finds it attractive.

Manz had to rethink his life decisions, because... Oh my days, you look like a mess. A hot mess. His hot mess.

The way your hands pull onto your hair, the scream you made when you were ranting about your boss, coworker, anyone who just so happened to push you beyond your limits...

Honestly, he could watch you rant and walk around endlessly for almost the whole day and not be bothered by it. As long as it's not directed to him, he's fine...

And your boss? Don't worry about them, he'll take care of it...

THOR, Poseidon, HADES, Apollo, Lu bu, and anyone else on your mind...

Don't we all have those days...

My inbox is open. Check out my Rules.

[mxtantrights]

cause you're sweet like a flower in bloom

pairing: Johnny Storm x fem!reader a/n: feeling inspired and also my crush on Johnny Storm has been relit (ha) so I've decided to write while it's good! this is a continuation after the first part, but can be read as a standalone. reader has the nickname specs and is female.

When you first met Johnny, you didn't see past the persona he puts on. The good looking guy who treats the whole world like his bachelor pad? It didn't help that he also openly flirted with you.

You remember that night clearly. Sue had invited you to a get-together at her and Reed's place. She originally wanted a more cozy dinner with just you, Reed, Ben, and Johnny. But you had told her that it made you nervous to be the only one of your coworkers that got to dine with her and her family.

So she pivoted. Made sure you didn't feel nervous. And you thanked her for it endlessly.

"What are you thinkin' about?" Johnny asks.

It pulls you out of your thoughts. In front of you is the view of the city. You two had both boarded the ferry in hopes of not going home just yet. You, beach you didn't want to think about work, and Johnny for another reason. A reason unbeknownst to you.

You look over at him. Taking him in for a few moments. His hair, his eyes. This guy is the full package and can get anyone he wants, so why the hell is he so bothered trying to hang out with you?

You crack a smile, "I'm thinking about the first time we met."

He shakes his head and looks away from you. You don't miss how the tips of his ears turn pink. Or how he starts interlacing his fingers together. Your eyebrow quirks up as you look away from him, back out to the water.

"Ya know I thought you had a boyfriend." he says.

That makes you cackle. You look back at him and find him looking at you already. With a hand over your mouth you look at him in disbelief.

"You were flirting with me so hard, and you thought I was taken?" you ask.

He shrugs his shoulders, "I mean, okay when you put it like that it makes it seems like I'm a would-be homewrecker."

You hum to yourself. He nudges your shoulder with his as he laughs.

"There were so many people you could've flirted with. Probably would've been in a relationship right now." you joke.

You don't mean it. Not that you don't think he could be in a relationship. Johnny is very much the type, even though he doesn't show it. But the subject is more complicated than a quick little joke and his whole playboy appearance.

"I'm taking my chances with you." he jokes back.

You snort, your eyes falling shut, and you hit him over his shoulder. As you laugh you lean you head back. Before you can hit the back of the headrest, you feel his hand come out and block it. He doesn't move it.

"I'm glad we hung out. I'm feeling less stressed." you admit.

"And I'm glad you don't consider this a date, because this is not my best." he says.

Your eyes go wide as you open them, "Johnny!"

In between the breeze that carries from the water, you realize how close you are to him. Even though the both of you are in separate seats your body are practically meeting in the middle. All you would have to do is lean over an inch or two more and you'd be touching him.

"When we go out on our first date, it's gonna be great. Might even sweep you off your feet." he vaguely explains.

A first date with Jonny Storm. If you had been told this a couple of months ago you would have laughed. Maybe you would have denied it ever happening too. But now, you like the idea of it.

"Your sister is my boss and mentor." you say.

Johnny shakes his head, "You're gonna work yourself into a tizzy, specs. I haven't taken you out yet."

"Yet." you repeat.

"That's right. I'm still planning. And hopefully you'll let me ask you and you won't avoid me again." he prods.

You smile softly. Avoiding Johnny was a hard task in itself. But now, knowing that he's going to ask you out one of these days? It'll be like pushing a boulder up a hill.

All your common sense tells you that it's unlikely the boulder will ever reach the top. Who were you to fight with the known laws of science?

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

I saw you wanted to do something else with baby. Idk, just a quick idea, you could do headcannons of what it's like from that point. What life is like and whatever. Idk, we all love baby so this is just an idea, you don't have to write it

Have a nice day ❤️

Actual image of Baby inside (Reader's) head

❤️ Baby Headcanons ❤️

SFW and NSFW Headcanons for my favorite parasitic yandere

Would anyone even notice? The change in (Reader's) personality...

❤️ Baby makes sure to act just nice enough for people to not hate (Reader), but also not try and hang out with them outside of work

💀 Especially a certain someone (Reader) can't seem to remember anymore

❤️ Baby does his best to pamper and care for his darling host

💀 Coworkers notice how vibrant and healthy they have become since Baby makes sure his darling is never lacking nutritionally

❤️ That isn't to say that he doesn't spoil them rotten with their favorite snacks and desserts

💀 They do everything regular couples do, just while looking like only one person

❤️ They go out frequently on dates, to the movies and the park and to restaurants

💀 During dates Baby will flatter (Reader) endlessly, making them giggle for seemingly no reason at all

❤️ (Reader) doesn't mind if people stare at them like they're a druggie, although that may be because Baby likes to make them invisible to (Reader)...

💀 Baby often laments not having a body of his own, wishing to make his own income so he can buy gifts for his darling

❤️ But despite those little regrets, he wouldn't change his current life with (Reader) for anything else~

💀 Although, sometimes (Reader's) eyes do linger for a tad too long on attractive humans they pass on the street..

❤️ But it's easy to make them forget about silly strangers

💀 Being able to shut off their attraction with a flick of his tendril, or arouse (Reader) within a second, is a very useful tactic

❤️ Getting them hot and bothered in the grocery store because he was jealous of the DILF (Reader) thought had a nice ass

💀 Having them hurry up their shopping trip to try and prevent themselves from climaxing in public

❤️ It's alright if Baby ever pushes them too far

💀 He can just make them forget about it if they won't forgive him

❤️ Sex isn't just a punishment for Baby, however; it's also a reward

💀 Anything (Reader) does, no matter how small, is warrant for sex

(Reader) clutched the edge of the sink to prevent themselves from collapsing due to their unstable, trembling thighs. "Please, stop!" They half heartedly pleaded with the entity sending shock waves throughout their brain. "I just made dinner!"

Another orgasm rocked their body, soaking their pants in their fluids. "But you were so happy with how it turned out! I only wanted to thank you for making us such a lovely meal~"

❤️ When asked if (Reader) would ever try dating, they would always happily reply that their life was already perfect

💀 "I'm already in a very committed relationship.. with myself, hahaha!"

[nightlifexxx]

Fandom Hate - a Rant

(Disclaimer: This is not directed at anyone in particular. It’s just my opinion, and to be honest, I’m not expecting to be proven wrong about something I quite firmly believe. Please feel free to ignore this post.)

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I’ve been part of the Supernatural fandom since forever. Although I had a hiatus from fangirling over that show, I got back into it actively about a year ago. And now, I feel like I need to rant to the Internet, because my teenage self never could, and now that I’ve outgrown that anxiety (mostly), I finally can.

During my hiatus, I had honestly forgotten how toxic a fandom can be. But renewing my SPN obsession led me right back to Tumblr. And, well… it began again. I was aware of some of the drama that had happened between the actors, the anti tags, etc., but I genuinely thought that five years after the show ended, things would’ve calmed down. But no - hate, as usual, is all-consuming. Anti this, anti that. And it got me thinking - why do we take something beautiful, someone’s safe space, and make it our mission to turn it into hell?

I understand, to a certain extent, why some ships get hate - mainly because of how viciously certain fans defend their preferred interpretation (and I mean all ships here, even the less popular ones). But like I said, only to a point. I’ve been shipping certain characters for years, but I’ve never made it my personal goal to convince the Internet that my ship is the one true reality, let alone insult someone else’s preferences or favorite characters.

It’s fiction. It is not real. Not like this.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had my own struggles with mental health, and fandoms have always been a form of escape for me. Certain ships have meant a lot, emotionally. But still.

What actually bothers me the most is the hate the actors get?! Anti-Jared, Anti-Jensen, Anti-Misha - are you all okay? These are real people with real feelings. And apparently, a part of the fanbase has made it their goal to make these actors’ lives miserable?? We don’t know them. They’ve been presenting a version of themselves to us for twenty (I repeat, TWENTY) years just to try to keep a fanbase happy - a fanbase that, let’s be real, will never be 100% satisfied with anything they say or do.

I’ve seen posts that laser-focus on things that happened years ago, overanalyzing situations to the point of madness. And sure, all three of them have said or done questionable things over the years, but haven’t we all? The only difference is, unlike us hiding behind screens, everything they say is recorded, clipped out of context, and repeated endlessly to villainize actual human beings who are, by the way, living life for the first time, just like we are. Actual human beings with actual bad days. Imagine crashing out and someone plasters your face all over the Internet? And don’t get me started on “they are actors, they should do better.” They are doing the best they can. And acting in front of a camera is one thing, acting in a room full of people for hours is another. You can’t do a retake of your body language becoming defensive in a panel or take back a slip up. They can’t be perfect. They aren’t perfect. They are painfully, beautifully human.

And all this “Jensen did this to Jared,” “Jared did this to Misha,” “Misha did that to Jensen/Jared” - can we just take a breath and try to be real for a second? Yeah, they’ve had their moments. Imagine working with your coworkers for fifteen years. Of course, there’s going to be tension. At the end of the day - it’s work. Haven’t you ever been pissed off at a coworker? Gone too far with a comment? Sure, their actions have wider consequences because there’s money and fame involved, but most of this “drama” is like any workplace drama - just blown way out of proportion.

And honestly, controversy is baked into the entertainment industry. Compared to the celebrity nonsense we’ve seen over the years, their behavior is relatively tame. So I have to ask: have we all collectively forgotten how to be compassionate, or are we just so desperate to project the bitterness from our own lives onto people who have literally given the prime of their careers to entertain us?

[spookyshipperfics]

Mandatory Training

Find it: a03 / Fandom: The X-Files / Rating: T

Tagging: @today-in-fic

What is it About? During mandatory sexual harassment training, Mulder starts to worry that he’s been bothering Scully. However, she’s quick to correct the misunderstanding.

Read it: “You weren’t trying to slink off to the basement, were you?” Skinner’s voice stopped Mulder so abruptly that his dress shoes squeaked against the tile.

“Who me?” Mulder responded with faux innocence. “Never.”

“Remember, Agent. This sexual harassment training is mandatory, and I expect your butt in that seat,” Skinner warned. “Who knows? Maybe you’ll even learn something.”  

Mulder smirked, making some smartass comment about “not threatening him with a good time” before shuffling into the board room with the rest of the suits. Scully was already there, hands folded in her lap like the perfect student she was. She smiled, and he squeezed her shoulder, taking the seat beside her. The board room felt an awful lot like high school detention, and Mulder fantasized about carving something juvenile into the side of his chair.

Skool suxs , or better yet, Skinner stinkz.

Stuff like this only wasted his time. Important work sat neglected in the basement while he sat in an uncomfortable chair. He had sunflower seeds at the ready, each kernel poised to crunch away boredom and hopefully attract a few annoyed stares. At this point, any distraction was welcome.

However, Mulder’s stomach clenched as the presenter read through the slides. When “Examples of Sexual Harassment” appeared on the screen, it dropped entirely. Each bullet seemed pinpointed at him and Scully—or rather, his interactions with Scully.  

Making comments about a coworker’s physical attributes.

Check.

Inappropriate touching of any body part, including hugging or kissing.

Double check.

Staring.

Hell, he was doing that right now, his eyes glued to the smooth skin of her legs neatly crossed at her ankles.

Suddenly, Mulder was sweating. Flirting with Scully had become a part of his daily routine. Sometimes, she looked so beautiful, he couldn’t help but tell her, even if corny jokes and innuendo often concealed his true affection.

He had memories of flushed cheeks and shy smiles. He even had memories of salacious comebacks. But maybe he’d been mistaken. The idea he could have ever made her uncomfortable made him want to sprint from the room.

Scully twisted in his direction with that damn intuition of hers. “Are you okay?” she mouthed, concerned eyes racking over him.

He thought about screaming at her to face forward—to save herself. Instead, he just nodded, fidgeting endlessly with his pen.

She didn’t seem entirely satisfied with the answer. Curious fingers found his knee, and Mulder nearly leaped to his feet.

She was trying to kill him.

Her hand was gone, but the warmth of her touch lingered. He pried his attention from her—and from her legs. Scully’s gaze burnt like coal, but he wouldn’t look, not even if she started unbuttoning her blouse.

Nope.

Nada.

Well… maybe he’d look.

Who was he kidding? Of course, he’d look. He was absolutely hopeless.

“Mulder, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he responded, eyes boring into the parchment paper that once housed his turkey sandwich. After the meeting, Scully returned to the office with coffee and subs; he returned with nothing but guilt. They’d sat in silence with the desk between them.   

“You haven’t even looked at me since we got here.”

“Hmmm.”

“Mulder!” This time, she nearly yelled it.

His head snapped up. The crumbs on his empty wrapper hadn’t been half as captivating as her eyes, now icy and sharp.   

“What’s going on with you?”  

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I guess that training… it got under my skin.”

She chuckled. “Really? Wait,” she dismissed her laughter with the wave of a hand. “I shouldn’t laugh. It just doesn’t seem like you.” Then, she pouted. “Is somebody bothering you at work?”

“What? No,” he insisted.

“Then what’s wrong?”

He shrugged. “After hearing all that, I’m worried I’ve been bothering you.”

Her face turned as hard as marble. Mulder readied himself to leave, to walk straight to Quantico and slap his resignation on Skinner’s desk, neatly typed and double spaced.   

Sorry, sir. I’ve really done it this time. I ruined the best thing that’s ever happened to me.

Better yet, why not cut out his heart? Surely, he wouldn’t need it if he didn’t have Scully. Why wait? He could do it right now in the office. That letter opener looked pretty sharp. The janitor might not be too happy about the mess, but—

“Why would you think that?” she asked.

“Well, those slides.” He cleared his throat. “They mentioned touching, staring, and… uh… making comments about a coworker’s physical attributes.

“Mulder.” Her lips curved into that pout again.

He’d heard her say his name like that thousands of times. It was tinged with disappointment and just a trace of sadness. Heat rushed to his face. His hand twitched with the desire to dump his now-cold coffee over his head.

“I think you forgot what adjective preceded those verbs,” she continued.

“Scu—”

“ Unwanted .”

His eyebrows jumped to his forehead. “So, you’re saying...”

“I’m saying none of those things are a problem if they’re wanted by the recipient. That’s the point you missed back there—the point you’ve been missing for years.”  

Part of him felt like collapsing from relief. The other part wanted to leap into the air. Did he have champagne somewhere in the office? He felt like popping some.

“Don’t look so smug,” Scully warned, mouth curling into a shy smile.

He didn’t want to lose momentum now. Rising to a stand, his hands found purchase among the ink blotter and scattered files. “So, just to confirm, touching your lower back is…”

“Gentlemanly,” she responded while mirroring his movement so they were both leaning across the desk.    

“Offering you a hug?”

“Comforting.”

“Holding your hand?”

“Sweet.”

“My bad habit of staring?

Her gaze flicked to his mouth before refocusing on his eyes. “Erotic,” she whispered.

He closed the distance, lips finding hers after waiting for so long. They were so soft that he was reluctant to stop. “And what about that?”  

“Perfect,” she uttered.  

It took everything in him not to pull her onto the desk. He was still gawking at her like a love-drunk idiot when she removed lab results from one of the files instead of a marriage certificate. Her cheeks were still flush, her eyes twinkling as she launched into every reason she was right and he was wrong about the current case.

The smile never left his face.

Skinner was right. Mulder did learn something. He loved Scully, and she loved him back.

Come show some love on a03 here.

[faerghusfucker]

Tell me literally every thought about your Sylvain please 👉👈

every thought???? literally every thought???? if you insist :3

so at the start of the story sylvain is a senior in hs and he’s 18. a few ages have been shifted around just to get everyone started in the same place and his is one of them. i considered having him still be 19 and have been held back or smth but like sylvain wouldn’t do that i don’t think. he doesn’t want to spend more time in hs, he wants to get tf out of there. he’s a straight c student, does not try at all. literally does the bare minimum (but since he’s super smart that does tend to get him pretty far)

the blue lions are the jocks, so to speak, and sylvain does both hockey and fencing. he’s rlly good at hockey bc he’s been playing since he was a kid, but he kinda just joined fencing because felix made him do it with him and he’s mid at it. he fences sabre :3 the dynamic of felix getting mad at him for not training very much persists here. felix is the captain of the fencing team and if sylvain is the reason they lose a match he will crash tf out.

sylvain also cannot fucking see. he has contacts for sports but he wears glasses to look more indie and intellectual to impress the ladies. those round glasses are performative and NOT a reflection of his true spirit. he also carries a performative book with him everywhere (that is until he starts reading it and actually gets rlly into it and analyzes the themes and everything)

he’s also, like in canon, a secret nerd. especially for theater. ashe, mercedes, and annette are often in the ensemble for the school musicals, and ingrid sometimes helps the crew with construction and such, so the whole blue lions friend group usually goes to shows together. ESPECIALLY felix and sylvain, because felix and annette are high school sweethearts and he wants to support his girlie, and also because sylvain absolutely eats up theater. i’m gonna out myself as a former theater kid here and say that i’ve actually casted the three houses characters in three musicals that do exist and that they do put on during the school year. if anyone wants more details on that you need merely ask, idk if three houses fans and theater fans overlap very much lol. @medicallyfascinating and i yapped endlessly about casting and what their drama program is like and all that stuff. ANYWAY all that to say that sylvain gets way way way absorbed into theater, and when annette complained that the theater department needed more boys, GUESS WHO DIPPED HIS TOES INTO ACTING?????? mister gautier himself of course!!! he ends up being weirdly good at it except for like dancing/blocking. he has a rlly hard time with that.

sylvain also has a job!!! my sylvain is a pretty heavy drinker and also loves abusing substances, and while he has rich family, we know the type of man matthias is. he is NOT going to fund his delinquent son’s antics. so sylvain works in a fast food drive thru with annette so he can afford to buy weed from yuri and also fund his vaping habit. he and annette are coworkers and he’s actually really good at his job but also FUCKING ANNOYING. everyone wants him gone but he’s accidentally become important at his job and so they can’t get rid of him. he could become a manager if he really wanted to but he cannot be bothered.

he is also banned from interacting with the cheer team. sylvain has gotten in a situationship with literally everyone on the cheer team at some point, and even flayn who’s a freshman has been so violently warned away from him that she would scream if he looked at her. hilda is the cheer captain and she and sylvain used to date but then at sylvain’s junior prom he cheated on her and she kicked his ass in the parking lot. and now he’s blacklisted, except that yuri ends up being curious about him and so sylvain has a bisexual awakening of sorts. the girls are all mad at yuri for this and also yuri is annoyed because literally nothing good came of attempting relations with this inept man. unfortunate for all involved!!! and now yuri is charging sylvain extra for pissing him off.

sylvain was the second person felix came out to :3 the first was glenn. sylvain was unsurprised. i think that everyone was tbh.

uhhhh what else what else. see i’m trying to strike a balance of having fun yapping but also not spoiling too excessively much so that i have fun things to reveal when i start writing fic for this. you guys better read my fics. hrmmmmm sylvain is the first to get his license in the group and ends up being the assigned chauffeur until others catch up lol. dedue and mercedes are closest to his age but mercedes just didn’t feel like driving for a bit and dedue is a lil younger than him so. it just happened that sylvain did it first. his car smells like mango flavored vape, its soaked into the cushions of the seats. but otherwise he keeps it clean-ish.

THANK YOU VERY MUCH FOR THIS ASK this was a bunch of stream of consciousness fun facts lol, if anyone wants any clarification or wants to know anything else abt him or anyone, the askbox is open :3

[toppersjeep]

Running For The Hills- Charles Leclerc X Reader

masterlist

Summary: Inspired by run for the hills by Tate McRae. You and Charles work together you are a race engineer at Ferrari. You two kinda have a relationship of sorts but you know that it’s never gonna lead to anything more.

______

(This is a random post for you all because we hit 700 followers thank you so so much I love you all endlessly. It means more than you know. Thanks for reading my stories 🩷) - A/N

Your POV

||hotels late nights hands through my hair||

There I was in his hotel room again. Looking up at the ceiling wondering why I kept doing this. I tried to stop myself but I couldn’t help it. He was addicting in every single way. Like a good song on the radio. Or your favorite tv show. Charles Leclerc was addicting.

“Are you still awake” Charles asked softly rolling over to look at me. “Just can’t sleep” I said as he pulled me closer. “Come here” Charles said. “I thought you were asleep” I said. “I sleep better next to you now” Charles said I snuggled up to his chest. “Do you” I said he kissed my forehead.

||cause I know deep down that’s it never gonna be us||

“Yes you know I do” Charles said. We both finally fell asleep. We knew what this was just friends and coworkers with benefits. Despite me wanting more but never saying so. I knew how this would end and so would he.

At work we acted like nothing happened. Like I didn’t wake up next to him this morning. Like his hands aren’t all over me the night before. Or how my heels were on the edge of his bed last night. We pretended. Something we were both good at. Especially him.

“Y/N did you send the documents to Fred” Carlos asked. “Yes I did” I said. “Okay how about the statistics from free practice” Carlos said. “I have Charles I can get yours if you’d like” I said. “Yeah I just feel like my cars slower” Carlos said.

“Cause you were” Charles said walking over. “Yeah yeah mate I get it” Carlos said rolling his eyes. “Uhhh here” I said handing him a part. “Thank you Y/N” Carlos said walking away. “Did you need something Cha” I asked. “No.. I just wanted to see what you were up to” Charles said.

“Going over stuff from the previous race and reading over regulations” I said. “Anything I can help with” he said sitting beside me putting a hand on my back. “You’re more of a distraction to be honest” I said. “Oh” Charles said. “Am I now” Charles whispered in my ear.

“I.. don’t get you what happened to at work we are coworkers” I said softly. “Did I do something you seem off” Charles said. “Charles I don’t wanna play this game anymore” I said moving his hand. “I don’t get you” Charles said.

“I have work to do” I said. “Alright” Charles said getting up. “Here” I said giving him paperwork. “What’s that” Charles said. “Stuff for you to read over so” I said. “Alright” Charles said. “I’ll see you later” I said. “Are you sure you want to because” Charles said. “Yes” I said.

Later on…

This time I went to Charles apartment. Being that we were back in Monaco now. I knocked on the door. He opened it with a smile. And I walked into his place. Like I had a million times before. This time it felt different.

“Wanna tell me what’s bugging you love” Charles said. “I don’t wanna make you mad though” I said sitting on his couch. As he shut the door. “What’s wrong” Charles said sitting beside me. “This ..whole situation I can’t keep doing it” I said.

“Hooking up” Charles said. “Yeah I just.. we both know it will never lead anywhere” I said. He then stood up and turned away from me. “And why all the sudden are you saying this” Charles said. “Are you that bothered you can find someone else” I said.

“I don’t want someone else Y/N” Charles said. “And I don’t want to keep doing this anymore ,it’s going to lead to nothing” I said yelling. “Y/N I don’t care I want you nobody else” Charles said. “Stop saying things that you don’t mean” I said. I then got up. Attempting to leave.

He grabbed my arm and pulled me closer to him. “I mean every damn word” Charles said cupping my cheek. “Just listen to me please baby” Charles said as I looked into his green eyes. I nodded. “At first I thought the same thing it wouldn’t be anything” Charles said.

“But as we kept this going… I.. well I” Charles said still cupping my cheek. “I never wanted it to end.. I wanted you by my side” Charles said. “Charles” I said softly. “I want you by my side all the time” Charles said. “Not just to hook up either” he added.

“I want you to be mine always and nobody else’s” Charles said. “Because.. I’m madly in love with you Y/N and I can’t stop” Charles said I blushed. “I love you” I said he then kissed me. “.. So screw this whole friends with benefits thing and be my girlfriend” Charles said.

“As long as we still get the benefits” I said he laughed. “Oh that’s a definite my love” Charles said. “Then yes I’ll be your girlfriend” I said. “It also comes with extra benefits” Charles said with a wink. I smiled knowing he was officially mine.

____

[tsprants]

NIGHT TWO! three? I DON’T KNOW!! 🎉

i’m thinking about stanley parable again, shockingly. more specifically, the countdown ending, and the narrator’s voice lines, and what all of that has to do with his role in the game and story (yes. another one about this. i find it to be a compelling topic). if the narrator is to be believed in the countdown ending, then he would most likely be considered the main antagonist of the game, and quite sadistic, at that. according to himself, he erased stanley’s coworkers. this ending does confirm that the endless repeating of the game is actually happening (similar to the apartment ending, where stanley repeats the story over and over in his head), as the narrator describes other runs where he torments stanley for his own pleasure/enjoys his being miserable (e.g. “i turned off the machine; i set you free. of course, that was merely in this instance of the story. Sometimes when i tell it, i simply let you sit there in your office forever, pushing buttons endlessly and then dying alone. other times, i let the office sink into the ground, swallowing everyone inside; or i let it burn to a crisp”). but is it fair to call the narrator an antagonist in this ending? most of the narrator’s actions in the game are almost entirely reactionary, and the countdown ending is no different, as what sets him off in the first place is stanley/the player attempting to gain power by taking control of the mind control facility and machine, therefore derailing the story (“you were supposed to let it go, turn the controls off, and leave. if you want to throw my story off track, you're gonna have to do much better than that.”). short answer: yes! long answer: technically yes, BECAUSE he literally fucking bombed the whole office, admitted to killing hundreds of people, and admitted to torturing stanley over and over and over. it would also work with other endings, such as the cold feet ending, apartment ending, insanity ending, etc. of course, my saying yes is predicated on the assumption that the narrator is being truthful in what he was saying. presuming that he is, that would have several large implications surrounding his character, fan theories, and the game itself. firstly, the narrator is flat-out confirming that yes, he does have memory of every run of the game (this is further emphasised by the fact that his dialogue in the countdown ending changes after you do the ending several times). stanley most likely does note seeing as narrator is having to tell him about other runs. secondly, yes, he is in control of what happens in the game, but not stanley, it would seem. but unpacking that! what would all that mean? starting with the narrator remembering previous runs, that would obviously mean that he remembers the zending and skip button ending, and the not stanley ending (the holy trinity of sadness). he literally remembers just sitting there for billions, maybe even TRILLIONS of years, waiting for stanley to return. He remembers stanley killing himself to stop him from being happy, which is a good jumping-off point for why the narrator is NOT the antagonist (i’m going insane)!! there are multiple endings or paths you can take in the game where stanley/the player intentionally causes the narrator distress, and therefore takes on a more antagonistic role himself. there is, i believe, no set “villain” in the stanley parable, as both stanley and the narrator are consistently villains and victims to one another, which i will expand on in my next 2am rant (maybe if i can be bothered), by talking about the museum ending! yaaaayyy

[donnerpartyofone]

(Sorry this is somehwat redundant but I don't feel like editing it!) I just found out that for the last two weeks this guy has come in and bothered someone about ordering a birthday cake for his alleged son. He claims to have been coming here for 10 years and it's his favorite place ever, but none of us knew who he was until he started tormenting us recently. Each time he tries to order the cake, he makes it so complicated, confusing, or creepy that he leaves without placing the order. With me, he just pretends to have no idea what I'm saying, forcing me to stand really close to him so we can scream in each other's faces (occasionally he just rewords what I said so it's either wrong or endlessly repetitive). With my coworker, he says weird grotesque things about his alleged wife, like she's the tyrant who sent him in to order a cake with no clues as to what she wants him to get for their son. The supposed birthday is in four days. I work two of those days. I feel like I should start carrying a weapon to work.

I keep mentally composing, and then not posting something that's basically like:

If there is someone in your life who is consistently taking up more time and energy than you really want to offer them, and who consistently isn't that good at taking "no" for an answer, and who consistently commutes "a simple favor" into an elaborate series of duties, then you can stop wondering if they are doing it on purpose or just don't know any better. They are, effectively, doing it on purpose. They may not be sitting in their lair twirling their mustache while conceiving of ways to monopolize and control you, but they at least have a demonstrable instinct toward behaving that way, and you should definitely feel free to respond accordingly.

...But of course, every time I think to post this, I hear the internalized voices of precious little tumblr warriors scolding me for suggesting that you don't have to work on your own enforcement of boundaries, or be collaborative in building better friendships, or be sympathetic to people who can't read social cues, etc. Which is of course NOT WHAT I'M SAYING. I'm just saying that people who routinely try to get more from you than what they're owed are demonstrating behavioral habits that are not your job to change -- it might not even be within your power to change them -- and it's OK, even advisable for you to switch gears into protecting yourself.

(boring part below)

Even though it recently came out that my job has a customer who has been kicked out of every other place in the neighborhood for stalking and harassment, I find myself just as worried about this other guy who acts like a big friendly lummox, but I'm 100% convinced it's a smokescreen for the fact that he is demonically trying to hurt and annoy everyone he can. I've been having this conversation with my coworker about whether or not he just doesn't know any better because he acts like a big friendly oaf, but the more shit he pulls the more I think: This guy is a serial killer. Even if he never kills anyone! Spiritually he is walking around with his arm in a fake sling, trying to isolate people by begging them to get something imaginary out of the trunk of his car. He is consistently, deliberately trying to get inappropriate access to people, just to see how much shit he can force them to take. We're trapped in one of those movies like WHAT ABOUT BOB? or THE CABLE GUY or even SPEAK NO EVIL or FUNNY GAMES, where normal people are targeted by a predator who exploits the fact that they're too civilized to immediately say "I KNOW WHAT YOU'RE DOING AND I'M NOT GOING TO PUT UP WITH IT, GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE BEFORE I KICK YOUR ASS!"

This is a very big, tall, middle-aged white guy who wears a lot of Hawaiian shirts, and who speaks slowly in a loud voice, grinning and gesturing as if he were delivering a monologue on the late show. The first time I encountered him I was wearing my WICKER MAN hat and when he got to the register he seemed to take a strangely long time to start talking before saying "HELLO MISS WICKER! WHACKER? WICKER? HELLO MISS WHACKER!" I had the feeling that I was being forced to ignore the innuendo because of his performance of being a big innocent goofball, and in any case he took such a long time to order his coffee, with his series of drawn-out jokes and gestures, I was more worried that he might never just tell me what he wanted and pay for it and leave. The next time I saw him, I became sure that this was all by design. I was working by myself on an excruciatingly busy weekend morning, and when he got to the register he started making these loud stretched-out jokes about how busy it was, and every time I said "Yeah it really is WHAT CAN I GET FOR YOU," he would make another joke about how busy it was. If he couldn't think of something to say he would just start waving his arms around like a magician at a children's birthday party until he came up with another joke. He wouldn't move on from one of these jokes until you acknowledged it. When he finally gave me his drink order and I started making it, he tried to get the entire line to give me a round of applause three separate times, saying "YAAAAAAY!" like a little kid and clapping his hands as loudly as possible. This was met with dead silence and it made me feel terrible, which I'm positive was the goal.

I described this to my coworker, and shortly afterward she had her own encounter with him: He came by after closing time when she had unfortunately allowed some of the (nice) customers to stay a few extra minutes to finish their drinks. The door was locked, and she suddenly heard a loud banging. She looked up to see this guy trying to get in, and made the traditional "We're closed" hand signal, which he smiled and acknowledged. Then a few seconds later he was POUNDING on the window right next to some customers, who were understandably alarmed and confused by his attempt to make them override the actual employee. So my coworker was forced to go over there just to make him stop, and he said he needed to put up a poster on our event board -- then he started wedging himself inside and telling this long, convoluted story about how he's a sound engineer for some local venue or something, and my coworker asked what that had to do with him entering the business after hours. Then he made some weird jokes about cheating on his wife that she found totally disgusting and eventually he left, but obviously all of this was about imposing himself on someone unwilling, just to see how much he could get away with.

By now we've seen him a few times when working together; one of the last times, I finally gave him his coffee and then he wouldn't leave our very small condiment table. He immediately latched onto whoever was next in line and absorbed her in a long, idiotic conversation, and when I asked him to please move so that other people could access the milk and sugar, he laughed in that way that normally says "Oh sorry!," but then he didn't move even when other grown men had to almost wrap their arms around him to get at the stuff. Then he came during another extremely busy Saturday afternoon and started trying to place a cake order for his alleged son's birthday. (Supposedly he is married with children and even though he evinces this whole "doofy dad" thing, it's really hard for me to imagine anyone spending enough time with him to form a family) Every time I tried to tell him to just come back or call when he knows exactly what he wants, he pretended not to understand me, so finally I came out from behind the register to shout my words into his face, and he kept cupping his ears and saying "QUE PASA? QUE PASA?" (racistly), and repeating things back to me in a slightly distorted way so that I had to keep re-explaining my extremely simple instruction while standing much closer to him than I wanted to. Whenever he senses that he has hit a wall with you, he starts declaring that he's been a customer for more than ten years and this is his favorite place blah blah blah, and then he often moves on to entrapping the nearest customers, who are always disturbed and unsure of how to defend themselves. By the time I got him to go away the owner pulled me over to ask if I was OK; she couldn't hear the whole thing but she sensed that something bad was happening and perhaps fortunately, she was already primed to notice danger because of the situation with the actual neighborhood stalker.

I am really not looking forward to seeing how the situation unfolds with the stalker, who has compelled other businesses to get the cops involved already, but I worry just as much about this fucking guy. If he doesn't come right out, like the stalker does, and say "You guys are trying to poison me and I'm going to distribute fliers saying you're all rapists, and follow you around and threaten you," then in a way it will be harder to deal with him. It's just so obvious to me that he doesn't not-know that he's making everyone miserable, and I don't really know how far he'll push it; probably it will just stay on the level of this energy vampire nonsense, but it is so reminiscent of the behavior of sexual and violent predators who use all kinds of coercion techniques to put you off your guard and isolate you so they can do something bad. At the risk of overstating the obvious, trying to make people do things that they obviously don't want to do is a huge red flag, whether or not it escalates to physical contact. I'm really not looking forward to having him come back to order this birthday cake for his supposed son, I won't be surprised if he specifically picks a time when I'm working and it's busy so he can continue this terror campaign that he has launched against me personally. Possibly the silver lining to all this will be that I finally learn to start acting like I work, not at a cute little neighborhood bakery, but at one of the rough and tumble dives where it would be normal for me to say "I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOUR FUCKING PROBLEM IS BUT IT ISN'T MINE, I DON'T CARE IF YOU 'DIDN'T DO ANYTHING,' YOU NEED TO GET THE FUCK OUT AND NEVER COME BACK." My bosses would probably back me up.

[venus-haze]

Radio Gaga (Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Summary: Reader is a late night radio DJ in Memphis, one of Elvis’ favorites. Your song choices are perfect, and he practically falls asleep listening to the sound of your voice. When you’re one of the first DJs to play ‘That’s All Right,’ he’s starstruck, especially when you request an interview. 

Note: I don’t know how radio station abbreviations work so I didn’t bother with that, just the show’s name. Reader is gender neutral. Please let me know what y’all think! Requests are open🔮 Do not interact with my blog or posts if you are under 18 or post ED/thinspo content.

Word Count: 3.2k words.

Warnings: Some sexual talk but nothing explicit.

As soon as 11 o’clock hit, Elvis rushed over to a radio in a side room in Club Handy, ignoring B.B.’s jokes about his devotion to Memphis After Hours. He’d come upon the show by chance one night, unable to fall asleep yet too tired to get up and put on one of his records. He had turned on the radio that sat on his nightstand, tuning in and out for something decent. A smile spread across his face as he caught the last half of a Howlin’ Wolf song. What had really gotten him, however, was the voice that came through the speaker when the song was over. Only known as Moonstruck, he felt his breath catch in his throat when they introduced the next song. Since then, he was hooked.

The station didn’t even play that type of music during the day, when he had tuned in again. He figured they needed someone to fill the night spot, and found that Moonstruck hosted the show on Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday nights. Sometimes they’d have guests on, doing interviews with up and coming artists. From the moment he started recording music, he’d imagine what his interview with Moonstruck would be like. He liked other radio DJs, but hardly missed Memphis After Hours if he could help it.

He turned the dial up after the last DJ signed off and the advertisements that played in the few minutes between shows were over.

"Welcome to Memphis After Hours. If you’re one of the night owls listening in, don’t expect to sleep any time soon, because I’ve got some music for ya that’ll keep ya wide awake," Moonstruck said. "I’m playing this song first because, well, I haven’t been able to stop listening to it. Now, this is by a new artist from Sun Records, Elvis Presley’s ‘That’s All Right.’ I promise you’ll be at the record shop tomorrow buying it."

He thought he was going to pass out. He’d only dreamed of this happening, but when the music started, there was no denying it—that was his voice. Unable to contain his excitement, he let out a a holler that sent B.B. into the room.

"What’s goin’ on EP?"

"Moonstruck’s playin’ my song! That’s what’s goin’ on!"

"You must think you’re some hot shit, then," B.B. joked.

"They said they couldn’t stop listening to it," Elvis said in disbelief, staring at the radio as his voice emitted from it, courtesy of Memphis After Hours.

Over at Memphis After Hours, you busied yourself with looking at your schedule for the following week’s shows, humming and nodding along to the song. You weren’t exaggerating when you announced to your listeners that you’d been playing it nearly non-stop since you bought it a few days earlier. It’d led to your coworkers telling you to close your door as your personal copy of the single spun almost endlessly on the company-provided record player in your small office.

You mostly did administrative work at the radio station, coming in for a few hours in the mornings to help with paperwork and getting schedules in order. When your boss had lamented that the previous host of Memphis After Hours had quit to take a coveted spot as a daytime host at another station, you jumped at the chance to take it.

Your boss agreed to give you the spot, as long as you kept up with the advertisers and programming yourself. No one wanted to work nights, but you didn’t care as long as you got to do what you loved. Your parents weren’t so pleased to hear you’d be out so late, and made you promise to call them before you left the station each night. Besides that, you were basically unsupervised, the only person in the building after 11pm, besides the nighttime security guard. The night of your first show, you’d been so nervous about potentially embarrassing yourself that you decided to go by Moonstruck rather than your given name, just in case things didn’t pan out. That had been nearly a year ago, and the name still stuck.

The biggest setback was not being able to take callers, since the guy who operated the phone switchboard left at six, but you found up and coming musicians eager to fill in the time with interviews on Friday nights, even though you didn’t have a huge audience. You’d picked up ‘That’s All Right’ from the record store earlier that week as a matter of course, always on the search for new music for yourself and Memphis After Hours. You loved what Sun Records’ artists were putting out, and tried to play their music and other smaller labels as much as you could.

‘That’s All Right’ by the extremely unknown Elvis Presley stirred something in you that you’d never felt listening to another song, and you had to resist the urge to play it through the whole show. You made a note to contact Sun Records on Monday to schedule an interview with Elvis. You’d interviewed some of their artists in the past.

The show went on without a hitch, and you almost considered playing ‘That’s All Right’ one more time to close it out. You spent the weekend with your friends, who teased you when you looked through a diner’s jukebox for the song when you all went out Saturday night. 

When Monday rolled around, you walked into work, immediately assigned various tasks from the other radio DJs who definitely didn’t take you seriously for doing a weeknight show. Still, when you sat down in your office, the most important thing on your mind was calling Sun Records.

You spoke with Marion first, catching up a bit as you’d gotten to know her well enough from how often you called the label. She handed the phone over to Sam, who was thrilled when you expressed interest in interviewing Elvis and had promised to get back to you as soon as he heard from him. In their excitement, they had forgotten to let you know that Elvis was a fan of yours too.

As with most of his breaks from work, Elvis hung out on Beale Street, staring in shop windows at the clothes on display and talking with musicians busking on the street. He dropped in to the Sun Records office. Marion was busy at her typewriter, but when she saw him walk in, she gasped, running into Sam’s office. He stood in front of her desk, confused as to what was going on, until Marion practically pushed Sam into the room.

"I was just fixin’ to call you," Sam said.

"‘Bout what?"

"Guess who just asked to interview you?"

"The president," Elvis joked.

"Moonstruck!" Marion exclaimed.

He could feel his breath catch in his throat. "You better not be messin’ with me right now."

"Nope,” she said, checking the notepad she had written the information on, “they said they’ve got 11:15 open for this Thursday or Friday if you’re available. If not, next week they have—"

"Friday. I’ll be there Friday."

"Alright, make sure ya get there ‘round 10:30 so they can go over some things with you before the show," Sam said.

Elvis nodded, smiling as Marion hugged him in congratulations. He knew Memphis After Hours wasn’t a huge radio show, but to him it was everything. He couldn’t wait to tell, well, everyone.

As much as you hated it, you found yourself hanging by the telephone, hesitant to leave it in case you missed a call from Sam about Elvis. A little after one in the afternoon, your phone rang, and Sam let you know to expect to see Elvis on Friday. You thanked him as calmly as you could until you hung up and let out a laugh in relief. 

The rest of the week seemed to drag on—for both of you. You’d tried to keep your mind on your work, but found yourself making simple mistakes as your thoughts wandered to what he’d be like, much to your coworkers’ chagrin. Meanwhile B.B. teased Elvis for looking like a lovesick puppy every time he saw him that week. He couldn’t help it, just when it seemed like Friday wouldn’t roll around, the time seemed to inch forward that night. So, at a quarter after ten he had grown restless, and if anything, he figured being early would make a good impression.

He walked into the radio station, finding an older man sitting at the front desk. The security guard didn’t acknowledge his presence, focused on the crossword puzzle on the back of the morning newspaper. 

Elvis cleared his throat.

The security guard didn’t so much as look up when he uttered, "What?"

"I’m here for an interview with Moonstruck," he said.

He nodded, motioning to the door next to him. "Down the hall, third office on the left. If you’ve reached the washrooms you’ve gone too far."

"Thank ya."

Elvis repeated the security guard’s instructions to himself in his head as he walked. Not that it was difficult to find, there was only one office with the door open and lights on. He took a deep breath before knocking on the door frame.

You looked up from your desk, a smile on your face that made him feel like his heart was about to beat out of his chest. As soon as he saw you, he couldn’t remember how he used to picture you. It was always just you.

"You must be Elvis Presley, right on time," you said. "I’m—"

"Moonstruck," he whispered, almost as if in awe.

You couldn’t help but giggle. "You can call me Y/N. It’s great to meet you, Elvis. Please, make yourself comfortable."

"It’s great to finally meet you, Y/N," he said.

"You listen to the show?"

"’Course I do. I couldn’t believe it when you played my song the other night."

"I’m flattered. Most of the musicians I interview have never heard of my show until I reach out. I think I’ve only got a thousand or so regular listeners," you said. "Enough about me. We can go over the interview questions so you’re not on the spot, but is there anything specific you want me to mention or ask about?"

Shit. He’d been so preoccupied just thinking about meeting you he hadn’t even considered any promotional stuff he could be doing.

"Uh, I have some shows coming up."

"Perfect, where and when?"

He rattled off a few dates and locations, most of them not too far from Memphis. You made note of them on your typed up sheet of interview questions.

"If there’s any that you can make it to, I’ll make sure ya get the best view in the house," he promised, leaning in closer to you.

"Anywhere I can see your face is a great view," you responded, eyes widened when you realized what you had said.

A handsome smirk spread across his face. "I could say the same about you, darlin’."

You failed to bite back a smile at his words as you wrote. He was talented, drop-dead gorgeous, and a fan of your show. Check, check, and check.

Running through the questions with him before the show, you were glad to find the two of you had so much in common—except food, as you found yourself nearly gagging when he confessed his favorite meal was a fried peanut butter, banana, and bacon sandwich, courtesy of his mama. He insisted it was greatest thing you could ever eat. The two of you kept talking and flirting, getting way off track from the interview questions you had written down. In fact, you had lost track of time so much that when you glanced up at the clock on the wall, you noticed you were minutes away from missing your cue to go on air. 

Grabbing your notes and his jacket sleeve, you led him back up the hallway, making your way over to the studio. Your coworker in the booth threw his arms up in exasperation, and you shrugged in response. As the pre-recorded ad reads played, your coworker left, uttering a half-hearted ‘good night.’

"There’s only about three minutes before we go on," you said, walking inside. "The interview isn’t until about fifteen minutes or so into the show, but you’re gonna have to introduce yourself at the beginning."

You noticed Elvis hesitating at the door, eyes all over the inside of the studio until they locked on you when you walked over to him.

"Everything okay?" you asked.

"I’m nervous," he admitted.

"Elvis, you’ll be fine. We went over everything already. Don’t think of it as an interview, just two friends talking about music," you said.

"Christ," he muttered to himself. "I’ll try."

"If that doesn’t work, you know what they say in show business," you said.

"What’s that?"

"Just imagine that everyone else in the room is naked," you joked, turning back around into the empty studio. 

You sat down in front of the switchboard, putting on your headphones and getting yourself situated as the last few advertisements played between shows. 

On cue, you began recording, greeting your listeners and letting them know you had a guest that night. Despite his nerves, Elvis sounded great when he introduced himself. You gave him an encouraging smile and went on to announce the next few songs you’d be playing. When you looked up from putting the records in place, Elvis’ gaze was set on you, appearing more focused than before. Whatever switched in him, you were glad for it.

The interview was one of the best ones you’d ever done. He answered confidently, and the conversation between you flowed naturally as he spoke about his music and influences. He even threw in some thanks to Sun Records and his mama, which you thought was sweet. You mentioned his upcoming shows, encouraging your listeners to attend. 

Even after the interview ended, he stuck around, giving you song suggestions and trying to make you laugh whenever you had to read for an advertiser. The hour went by quickly, time seemed to race by when you were with him. You’d never felt a connection like that with anyone before.

You signed off the show, letting the last few advertisements play before shutting down the station’s broadcast for the night. He exhaled as if he’d been holding his breath.

“That went great! I told you it’d be fine,” you said.

He smiled. “Like ya said, just two friends talkin’ about music.”

“Well, I better pack up,” you said, gathering your things to bring back to your office.

"Got any plans for the rest of the night?" he asked.

"Depends on you," you answered.

"Well, if you’re lookin’ to stay out, I know a place that’s always jumpin’ if you’d care to join me."

"That sounds perfect. Let me just call home," you said, before adding, "Parents, ya know."

"Trust me, I know," he agreed.

He waited as you called your family from your office phone, letting them know you’d be out late and to not expect you back for a few hours. The call was quick, and when you hung up, he put his hand on the small of your back as the two of you left the radio station, with no acknowledgement from the security guard. 

Elvis led you to his truck, parked right near the entrance of the building. He was appalled when you informed him you’d usually take the late route bus or simply walk home, as your parents’ place was a few streets away. Still, he insisted it was dangerous, and went as far as to offer to drive you home every night. You laughed, taking the offer as a joke as you slid into the passenger seat of the truck.

"Where to, Presley?" you asked, when he revved the engine.

"I know a place," he said with a smile that you swore would have had you weak in the knees if you were standing up.

You admired his side profile as he drove, and he teased you for staring. You couldn’t help it, he looked like a dream, from his half-buttoned black lace shirt to his plush pink lips to the eyeliner that accented his electric blue eyes. Your gaze wandered to his big hands that gripped the steering wheel, and you wondered how they’d feel on your—

"This is where you’ll hear some of the best music of your life," he said, pointing to Club Handy as he navigated the bustling crowds of Beale Street to find a place to park. 

He rushed out to get the door for you and held your hand as the two of you crossed the street to the club. You smiled, squeezing his hand and giggling in excitement. You were thrilled at how well you and Elvis clicked, and so quickly, too. You had almost identical taste in music, so you trusted that Club Handy would be just as great as he’d said.

The bouncers standing outside of the club’s front doors greeted him when he walked up, letting the two of you in without a wait. He led you through a crowd of people, most of whom seemed to know him. He wasn’t lying, Club Handy was jumping, and you weren’t sure why you hadn’t been there before.

The music playing made your head spin and your toes curl. The smell of sweat, strong cologne, and booze clouded your senses. That’s how you knew it was good. Elvis seemed to notice you looking a bit flustered, so he led you over to the bar.

"Order whatever you want, baby. It’s on me," he said. 

You gave the bartender your order, as did he. They were simple enough, but just when your glasses were placed in front of you, Elvis seemed to spot someone he knew.

"Hold on, I got a friend I want you to meet," Elvis said, leaving you at the bar with your drink.

"Is he always like this?" you asked the bartender.

"The boy’s wired to something," he responded with a shrug.

Elvis was back in a flash, a bright smile on his face with a man in tow who you swore was—

"Y/N, I’d like you to meet my friend B.B. King."

"No way!" you exclaimed, hopping up from your seat. You were a fan of B.B.’s, but knew he was way too big of a musician to be interviewed on your show. Meeting him in person was the next best thing.

"So you’re Moonstruck?"

"I sure am. It’s so great to meet you," you said. "I’m such a big fan."

"You know Elvis here’s your biggest fan. I mean the lengths he’ll go to just to hear Memphis After Hours is—"

"Alright, B.B., that’s enough," Elvis said, scratching his jaw in an attempt to distract from the blush that was spreading across his cheeks.

B.B. grinned. "I guess that’s my cue to leave. Nice meeting you."

"You too!"

As B.B. sauntered off, Elvis took the seat at the bar next to you, throwing back his whiskey. "Sometimes he talks too much," he muttered.

"Don’t be embarrassed," you said, rubbing his arm. "I like you a lot."

"How much is a lot?" he asked, leaning in.

"Enough to kiss you right now."

Without hesitation, he closed the gap between you. His lips were soft, but the kiss was rough as he grabbed your waist and pulled you closer to him. You tried to resist the burning in your lungs to come up for air until you couldn’t ignore it any longer. You’d never been kissed like that before, and you never wanted to be kissed any other way again. 

Breathlessly, you stared at his smug expression as he caught his breath next to you.

"By the way, thanks for the advice back in the radio station. It did made me feel better," he said.

"Advice?" you asked, your brain buzzing from the kiss and the alcohol.

He grinned like a tiger about to pounce. "Picture everyone else in the room naked."

[kentolove]

Earlier today i was haunted w thoughts of boring office worker Tsukishima who has a small (huge) crush on one of his coworkers....

1.4k words

potential content warnings: there’s a portion in which reader feels v sad, but its all good since Tsukishima reassures them!

Tsukishima is a confident guy.

He prides himself in his strong character, one that is often praised by onlookers. Applauds and remarks of his nature are regarded as his best asset, and he believes them to be his best trait as well.

However, his persona crumbles the first day he sees you in the office; pink pencil skirt and a pearl white blouse to complement you.

My God is the first thing that he thinks, along with the fact that you are the most beautiful person he has ever seen. You strut the office with an unusual amount of confidence, considering the fact that you are the newest addition to the office. Your head is held high, heels clattering the floor with a sound that echoes and rings throughout his ears.

“You like the newbie, Tsukishima?” His coworker and work husband, Koganegawa, interrogates.

A wave of defensiveness overcomes him.

“What? I was just looking at her.”

“For much longer than necessary,” a loud, rumbling chuckle escapes his friend’s chest, “it’s fine, anyways. She’s cute.”

Tsukishima rolls his eyes and walks away from him. He has better shit to do than to sit down and listen to his friend endlessly interrogate him.

His plain work desk is calling for his name. Maybe he could sneak to the back and smoke a cigarette? Or maybe he could play one of those stupid mobile games he has downloaded on his phone? Or he could--

“Excuse me?” A voice lulls him from his previous daydream. “I’m sorry to bother you, but it's my first day here and I can't figure out how to use that godforsaken printer.”

An angel stands before him. The angel in the pink pencil skirt and the white blouse. You look so much prettier up close, he thinks, and maybe that's why he's being so overdramatic.

“Me?”

He’s aware he sounds foolish.

You laugh. It's short and cute, and he feels as if he's under a spell.

“Yes, you, blondie. Who else would I be talking to?”

He rolls his eyes.

“Don’t call me blondie,” he gets up from his seat. “Follow me. I’ll show you how.”

Tsukishima likes to think you’re friends.

You get drinks after work, you spend all your lunch breaks together, and you sometimes come over to his small apartment to visit him. You drink and talk the hours away, and Tsukishima has never felt so close to someone since his high school best friend.

He feels as if he could tell you everything, so he does. From the big milestones in his life, to the cute dog he saw on his way home, he tells it all to you.

He thinks it might be love. What else could it be? The burning desire to share every part of yourself -- the ugly and the good -- to someone close to you. To hold someone so close, it feels as if your mind and body have become one. He wants to love you. To admire you and praise you like no one has ever done before.

Maybe one day he’ll be able to share his dreams with you.

One day, he thinks.

You’ve drank far too much.

Going out with your coworkers in the middle of the week is never a good idea. You know it, Tsukishima knows it, and everyone else knows it.

But sometimes there’s a part of you that wants to live out your youth before your job takes it away from you. And in order to do that, You decide to get drunk on a Wednesday afternoon.

It’s never a good idea, unless you have Tsukishima around.

He calls a taxi for you, and he gets in the car that is far too small for his huge stature, just to make sure that you get home safe. He lets you rest your head on his shoulder, and he doesn’t complain even when you spend the whole night talking his ear off.

“Kei,” you whisper, leaning up to his ear. “Wanna know a secret?”

“Humor me.”

His hand moves to the side of your head to force you back onto his shoulder. Your body must be sore and he knows that you always complain about neck pains, so he takes it up to himself to take care of you.

“That first day, when we met... I lied to you.”

“How?”

“About the printer... I knew how to use a printer. Who doesn’t know how to use a printer? You’re kind of stupid for believing that I didn’t know how to use a printer.”

He rolls his eyes. 

“Am I?” He’s egging you on, he knows, but he can’t help himself. Not when you have that dreamy smile on your face, and your eyes are closed as if you’re in some type of wonderland.

“Mhmm... I thought you were so cute. I wanted to talk to you but I didn’t know how.”

He tenses. You were just as interested in him as he was in you?

“You looked so mean. I thought you’d tell me to go away after I talked to you,” you move your head slightly so you can look him in his eyes. One of your fingers traces the shape of his lips. “You’re still so cute.”

“You’re drunk.”

“I know,” your finger is still tracing the features on his face, all the ones you’ve grown to love. “I really want to kiss you right now... Can I?”

He sighs. He takes your hand and brings it to his face. He places a small kiss on your palm.

“I won’t kiss you when you’re drunk.”

You whine. “Why? I like you so much...”

“I like you too, baby. But not when you’re drunk.”

You place your head back on his chest and wail. He grabs your chin and forces you to look up at him.

“Stop whining,” a small kiss is placed on your forehead. “That enough for you, crybaby?”

You smile, and it’s like lightning. Bright, shocking, blinding.

You love everything about Tsukishima.

His personality, his mind, and even his tiny little closet-size apartment.

You spend more time in it that you do your own, but that’s only because he makes a home in everything. The space is so utterly him -- littered with vinyl's all over the shelves and a small little cat he calls Graybee.

He makes it known that he wants you in his space. The small home he made for himself is not full unless you’re in it. He’s told you this numerous times, yet sometimes it’s hard to grasp.

But on days like these, where he spends his whole day loving you, it’s easier to understand.

You’ve been down for the past few days. You can’t describe why you feel this way, for everything is fine. Rent is paid, you have food to eat, and your health is fine. You feel as if there is no “real” reason as to why your spirits are so low.

He noticed. He noticed that you drag your feet whenever you walk, and that your eyes have a dark cloud inside them. He noticed, so he called out of work, all in the name of taking care of you.

“Kei,” you call for his name. He’s in the kitchen, making some type of soup. He told you that its meant to raise your appetite, but the pungent scent of the soup is poisonous.

“I told you not to come into the kitchen until I finish this,” he scolds, moving away from the stove to greet you. His hello comes in the form of an endearing flick to your forehead.

“Are you trying to kill me?” You ignore his antics and move over to the pot, staring at the meal he’s prepared for you.

The ladle finds purchase in your hand, and you use it to get a taste of the soup.

“It’s not as bad as it looks, but it’s hot,” you groan and touch your lips in slight pain.

“You took a sip while it was still cooking,” he stares at you, dumbfounded.

“Kiss it better?”

He rolls his eyes.

A chaste kiss is soon placed on your lips. It’s short, but it’s temporary and it quells the small burn. You love his kisses more than anything.

“Go back to the bed and rest, baby. Don’t move or you’ll piss me off,” he says, taking your head in his palms. He holds you and stares. He does this often -- moments where all he wants is to bask in you and your beauty.

A kiss is placed on your forehead.

“I love you. Now go.” 

He pushes you off him.

[liminalpebble]

Eddie's Education: Chapter 8

Masterlist link

Minors DNI

Friday afternoon, Leia and Eddie worked together behind the bar again. In the quiet hours before the after-work rush Leia took over so Eddie could study, as uninterrupted as possible. His GED exams were next week and his generally agitated demeanor was even more frenetic than usual.

He looked over his notes as his curly mop of hair bobbed up and down to the metal playlist, his sprawled legs endlessly bouncing against the bar stool. As concerned as Leia was for him, she also found this version of him novel and adorable. She wished she could use more physical and pleasurable means to relax him, but she settled for easing his nerves by quizzing him with flashcards and practice problems during lulls. Finally, she could sense Eddie was reaching a saturation point; his brain soaked like a sponge with equations and formulas. He rubbed his forehead and yawned.

Sitting across from him, Leia neatly stacked the flashcards and set the books aside, taking both his hands in hers reassuringly. Eddies' eyes went wide with surprise as they twitched up to meet hers. “Eddie, you need a break for now. I think you've got this section and you're just going to scramble your brains if you keep pushing it.” She squeezed his palms. “You're doing great. You're gonna do great. Wanna help me hang some decorations to get your mind off it?” Leia asked, sliding a box of orange and black garland over to him. She then tucked a stack of fliers, which proudly announced The Hideout's Halloween Night Extravaganza, under the crook of her arm.

He grinned broadly, and pointed a finger dramatically at her, “AH HA! I can see through your wicked ploy, Vespero. You're making me hang the garlands 'cause your short little hobbit arms can't cut it.”

she chuckled and nodded with mock sincerity, “You caught me, Munson! But seriously, I wouldn't have to if the you and Dale would just cave and buy me a step stool.”

“Relax, Princess Leia, Dale put in the order a week ago. It's on its way,” Eddie declared, as he fished plastic jack-o-lanterns and little ghost shaped ash trays out of the storage box.

“By what, stagecoach? How does it take that long?”

Eddie just chucked and replied, “I don't know but in the meantime, Your Majesty, I am your humble servant,” he said bowing dramatically.

Rolling her eyes and smiling she said, “Cut the crap, nerfherder,” and whisked the stack of ashtrays away, setting them out on each table. When she was out of earshot, Dale moved over to Eddie from the corner where he'd been doing the paperwork, watching the scene over the rim of his reading glasses. Eddie was staring after her, mouth agape, hypnotized by the pendulum sway of her voluptuous hips, when he felt a sharp smack upside his head.

“Ouch! Goddamit, Dale. What the fuck was that for?”

Dale hiss-whispered to Eddie, “For dragging your fucking feet asking that girl out. What's the matter with you?! I swear if you don't do it soon, I'm gonna do it for you!”

Eddie gave him a look of dread and said, “Don't you dare, Dale. She...she's a good friend, and a coworker, and my teacher, and like a decade younger than me. There's no way.”

Dale crossed his beefy arms and smirked, “But you like her, right? You like her a lot.”

“I...that's besides the point. You don't bother setting your heart on a '52 Telecaster if you can never actually get it,” he said, staring wistfully at her graceful little form sashaying between tables, silky black hair following her movements in subtle waves. Unable to stand looking anymore, he switched to staring at his feet. “I'm a fuck up, a high school drop out, a hundred years too old for her, I live in a trailer. Nah...I don't have anything worth bringing to the table for a girl like that.”

Dale sighed, “I think she, and a whole lot of other people who care about you, would beg to differ. She's always telling you to think better of yourself, and you said she's smart. Maybe you should actually take her word for it and stop being a knucklehead. You're a good kid, Eddie Munson, you deserve some good luck for a change. Sometimes you just gotta be brave enough to act when that good luck falls right into your lap.” With one more pat on the shoulder, he ambled back to his paperwork.

Eddie resumed watching Leia's work as his thoughts churned around. She knotted her hair up, and took off her cardigan, beginning to work up a sweat. He'd never noticed it before, but there on her shoulder was beautiful tattoo; a blue teacup, with an elaborate pattern of golden stars. He smiled, hoping that maybe...just maybe...she could find her cup of stars after all her setbacks, and maybe...just maybe...it could be him.

---

On Monday morning Eddie stood in the hallway at 7 with the other students waiting to be let into the room for the first GED exam. He tapped his foot incessantly and checked his watch. Realizing he still had 15 minutes he decided to hurry down the hall to see if he could find Leia in her classroom.

Dumbass, she doesn't start teaching until 8:30. She won't be here yet. He told himself, trying not to get his hopes up.

But as he came upon her classroom he saw the light on. He caught her just as she was dropping her bags to the floor. She hadn't even changed out of her walking boots yet. He suddenly noticed that seeing her stockings with boots also did something to him, but he didn't have time for horny daydreams, especially not today.

“Hey!” Leia greeted brightly. “I was just about to come find you. I just wanted to wish you good luck today. I know it's going to be a really long one...and...and I know it's stupid,” she said, turning red and holding out a paper lunch bag, “But I made you some snacks. There's some homemade cookies, and a sandwich and some fruit...and I know it's silly. I mean, you're a grown up. You can feed yourself. It's just I notice you always forget to and I was worried it'll be harder to go through these exams on an empty stomach...” She stopped abruptly, realizing he had been silent this whole time. “Sorry,” she said, “I'm rambling...are...are you okay?”

Eddie remained completely and utterly silent, clutching the bag lunch in his hand with his mouth dropped open. Feeling awkward, Leia added, “Oh...uh I'm sorry. It was an insulting thing to do, right?”

He kept staring.

“Can you please say something, Eddie? You're weirding me out.”

Eddie's eyes welled up into dark pools as he sniffed, and rivulets ran down his cheeks. Without a word he suddenly squeezed Leia into a hug so tight that her feet lifted off the floor. She was enveloped in the smell of warm leather, detergent, and his first cigarette of the day in the fresh fall air. It took her a moment for the gesture to register before she threw her arms around his neck, hanging on for dear life as he still held her suspended. She closed her eyes, breathing him in, taking in the moment.

“Eddie,” she finally squeaked.

“Yeah?” he said with a breathy sniff.

“Can you...can you put me down?”

He laughed through his tears saying, “Fuck...sorry...yeah yeah sure.”

If only he knew I never wanted that to end, she thought.

“Leia, that's the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me. You're so sweet.”

Now she blushed. “It's really no big deal, Eddie. I just want you to know you have someone in your corner. And not just me. You have me and Dale, and Wayne, and Gareth. Be brave, Eddie the Banished. We know you can do it.”

The jangle of the bell echoed through the halls, alerting Eddie that it was time to go to his test. She planted her hands on his shoulders and stood on her toes to peck him on the cheek. “Go get 'em, Eddie.”

He had no words, as he stared at her beautiful face in shock. He just nodded and ran out of the room, skidding down the hallway gleefully, into the classroom where he would be stuck for the next 2 hours, but he didn't care and wasn't bothered. Today, Eddie Munson was the happiest man in the world and he felt invincible.

----

It took three days. Three days of exams, sitting for hours at a time. Each day, Leia came early and brought him a lunch. On the second day he said, “I think that kiss on the cheek gave me good luck yesterday. Do...uh..do you think I could have another?”

She smiled and blushed. “I was afraid I'd made you uncomfortable.”

“Not at all. It was my good luck charm.” That was only a bit of a lie. It did make his pants feel just a little too tight for awhile. He couldn't stop thinking about how her soft lips felt on his skin, how warm and sweet-smelling she was up close, how he wanted to grab her face and kiss her a whole lot better than that, how the curves of her warm little body pressed against him. He had to keep tucking those thoughts away to finish his tests, but he couldn't be upset about it.

With that she again reached up on her toes, this time giving him a peck on each cheek.

“Woah! Double the luck. I'm gonna ace it today.”

She giggled as he hugged her yet again, then grabbed his lunch, and tumbled down the hall. On the third day when she wished him luck again, going on her toes to hug him and peck him on the cheek, he turned his head and their lips touched lightly. Exhilaration and panic rose in hot crashing waves inside of him all at once. He didn't exactly mean to do it. It was pure instinct. It felt like the most natural thing in the world.

Leia's brain could barely form thoughts as they held each others' gazes there, mere inches between their faces, Eddie's long arms still pulling her tightly against himself. His pillowy lips felt so soft against hers. His hand sprawled on the small of her back as her arms draped around his strong shoulders, felt so right.

But it's not right, she told herself, still feeling his breath against her cheeks as her thoughts raced. He's still a student here, at least a little longer. And you don't stand a chance anyway. It was just a clumsy mistake and he's going to regret it in a second, so don't get your hopes up. He'll call you stupid and needy for thinking it means more...that's what Sam would do.

Eddie noticed the sadness in her eyes and assumed the worst, setting her gently back to the floor. Oh shit, she didn't want me to do that. Of course she didn't. She's sad because I crossed a line. Idiot!

He put his hands up and stammered out, “I...I am so so sorry, Leia. I didn't mean to do that. I'm so clumsy....I”

She smiled, but still had a sad, conflicted, pained expression that sat veil-like over her face, “No no! Don't...don't be sorry, Eddie. It's okay. Don't think twice about it...already forgotten...water under the bridge.”

“Yeah...yeah...thanks.”

Before they could say anything else, the bell rang out, summoning Eddie to his last exams. Leia said a faint, “Good luck!” as he stumbled out the door, still baffled by the encounter.

Eddie struggled through the tests that day, trying to tamp down the distracting urge to comb through the details of their encounter that morning as he battled his way through rows and rows of multiple choice questions.

Get it together, Munson, he said, coaching himself. Whatever else, she's still your friend and she believes in you. Do it for her. Get this piece of paper for her. Don't let her down. Stop letting people down and running away.

So he took a deep breath, braced himself, and went once more into the breech with his trusty calculator for a shield, and his pencil for a sword, and the brown-bagged favor of a noble lady to spur him on.

@sunflowerdaydreamer

[darling-i-read-it]

Golden Retriever

Leon Kennedy x fem!reader, Ada Wong x fem!reader

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: guns, violence

Author’s Note: literally if I tweaked this it would just be an just a straight up ada wong x reader so I had to add the tag lmao. I hope you enjoy, this was funny to write

Requested: by anon, heyy! can you write someting about re4 leon x reader in which they both are trying to save ashley and ada flirts with reader instead of leon and he gets kinda jealous? through about this and i think i'd be so funny to see his face at ada like "🤨"

Summary: the request

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

“You are not the first agent I’ve seen here,” Ada mused, walking beside you. You raised an eyebrow, surprised.

“I thought I was the only one that was sent.”

“Looks like they sent in some backup. Like you couldn’t handle it.” You reloaded your gun, checking all your weapons on your body. You even made sure your knife was where it was supposed to be.

“Maybe they sent in someone else to deal with you.” She scoffed, giving you a sly smile. Ada was always aloof and this was no different. She would be here one second and gone the next before you even noticed she was gone. You and Ada had been loose coworkers for years. When you ran into each other, you helped each other. It was a give and take relationship. “Do you know who it is?”

“I do.” She looked like she was reliving a fond memory. “Leon S. Kennedy.”

“Oh yeah, Agent Kennedy, I know of him. Do you guys have a history?” “He’s a puppy dog, endlessly getting in trouble that I have to get him out of,” she mused. “It’s kind of sweet.”

“Oh Ada, you aren’t playing with this poor boy's heart are you?”

“Hey, I told him to let me do my thing, he was the one who insisted on tagging along. Don’t worry, you’re still my favorite.”

“Is that because I help you back?”

“Yes it is my love.” She raised her arm, grappling hook raised, and she let herself be taken away by it to the next floor. You rolled your eyes. She would be back when you needed her most. You would have to keep an eye out for this Leon Kennedy though.

===

You ran into him about an hour later as you arrived in the castle's hedge maze. You looked down at it from the floor above, noticing a man running around, shooting down the dogs that were down there. You were impressed. This was the guy Ada had to save?

You made your way down and shot down the last of the dogs. He looked up at you, clearly expecting to see another face, probably wearing a red dress.

“Are you the other agent?” he asked. You nodded, straightening your back.

“Yeah. Why did they send you?”

“They thought you died.” He walked up to you, extending his hand. You shook it. He was handsome. You could see the puppy dog underneath though, Ada was right. “I’m Leon Kennedy. I had Ashley earlier but lost her to this damn castle.”

“Y/N Y/L/N. I know the feeling, I’ve run into my fair share of problems here. Have you met the small annoying man?” He chuckled.

“I have.”

“We have the same goal here, working for the same people.”

“If you’re saying we should work together, I agree,” he said. “The more people I can get to keep an eye on Ashley, the better.” You chuckled and nodded. The two of you took the key Leon had gotten and opened up the next door.

You could hear Ada in the corner of the room. You noticed the sound of her shoes. You didn’t bother raising your gun as she tried to disarm Leon. He got her gun on the floor and he had a knife to her.

“Bit of advice. Try using knives next time, works better for close encounters,” he said smoothly. You scoffed. She stepped away.

“I see you ran into the resident golden retriever,” Ada said, turning to you. You shrugged.

“He’s more capable with his hands than you said.”

“Oh well that was quick,” she said slyly. You rolled your eyes, smiling a bit.

“You two know each other?” Leon asked. “Are you working for Wesker too Y/N?” You shook your head.

“I think Ada and I have a similar relationship to the one you had her have,” you said. Ada shrugged.

“You were first,” she said, pointing to you. “You’ve got more grit in you and you’re better with a gun,” she complimented. You gave her a small dramatic bow. Leon looked between the two of you, confused.

“That’s flattering.”

“I have things to do,” she said, dropping her glasses on the ground. “I’ll see you two around.” There was a small contained explosion and then she slipped away again. You weren’t surprised. When you turned to Leon, it looked like he was. He blinked twice, eyebrows furrowed.

“What was that?”

“Ada. I thought you knew her.”

“I do just usually…” he trailed off and shook his head. “Nevermind.” You nodded and started to walk forward into the castle.

“Alright. You got my back Kennedy?” “Yeah.”

===

You sat on the back of the jetski Ada had given you and Leon the keys too. He was driving steadily in front of you, Ashley just behind you. You had been going for about 10 minutes away from the island that Ada had just blown up.

You had your arms wrapped around his waist. You had gotten rather close in your shared near death experiences.

“You know,” Ashley mused. “I cannot for the life of me figure out if Leon is dating that lady, if you are, or if you’re dating each other.” Leon chuckled. You shook your head, giggling gently.

“Who said we weren’t a throuple?” you asked, laughing. Her head flew back, giggling.

“I’ve been trying to figure that out myself,” Leon said. “I thought we had a good thing going but it seems like Ada may have taken my opportunity.”

“Don’t you worry Kennedy,” you said, putting your chin on his shoulder. “I’m a sucker for the golden retriever vibe.”

Resident Evil Tag List: @ceruleanrainblues,@chloe-online, @alexxavicry

[lokiskitten]

Tom Hiddleston | nice acting skills

Pt2 : the changing room

Tom Hiddleston x fem!reader

Author’s note : I never originally planned to write a second part but I was being held at gun point so here’s pt2 of the “nice acting skills” imagine KSKSK

plot : after going through this rather peculiar moment, you unexpectedly bump into Tom in one of the changing rooms. From there, things take an unexpected turn.

warnings : smut ( with /legal/ age gap ), unprotected sex, extremely light and discreet spanking.

You were pulled out of your daydream session again by the exhaustingly familiar sound of the director throwing around new orders, setting you and Tom free from set as this scene didn’t necessarily needed to be filmed twice. You were now sent off to the makeup and costumes room which was located nowhere far from the place you currently sat. Tom wasn’t meant to be changing nor getting ready in the same room as you did, which was totally understandable due to the fact that you didn’t share the same gender nor age. He therefore took a different turn than you did, feet leading him to the left as you were accompanied on your right.

You were allowed in your personal changing room, the makeup lady arranging her stencils which laid on the table before the mirror. However, she suddenly seemed to remember about an important detail which she seemingly needed to be getting on the instant. You were therefore left alone with nothing but the costumes and cold cup of tea to keep you company. Sighing tiredly, you sat down on the chair which faced the mirror, eyes falling on your own tired reflexion. However, you were now able to hear the sound of the door opening again, a forced smile appearing on your lips as you expected this person who just walked in to be the makeup artist.

“Did you find what you’ve been looking fo-“ you began, eyes diverting upwards only to land onto Tom’s familiar yet unexpected silhouette. He closed the door behind himself, leaning against the wall as his strong arms crossed against his bare chest. You were now trapped with him. However, it was far from being a bother. But your naturally strong mindset forced you to put up a mask and pretend as if his naked upper body wasn’t something which disturbed your mind and senses. “Oh, it’s you.” You spoke bluntly, trying you best to hide any emotion which could’ve been a threaten to your reputation as a young and serious lady.

Tom smirked. “Yes, it’s me.” He answered, his deep voice which carried a beautiful British accent rolling off his tongue perfectly. It never failed to make your heart and crotch melt. Finally getting up from the door, the older man slowly moved towards your seat before his veiny hands decided to take ahold of the leather material. His ocean blue eyes stared at your reflection in the mirror, yet he wasn’t making eye contact but simply admiring how beautiful your body was. Gently, his hand moved up to your hair which he dragged back behind your ear, fully revealing your beautiful face to him.

“You’re beautiful.” He affirmed, making sure to regulate both his voice and tone in order to guarantee that he would look as attractive as he possibly could- even tho he wouldn’t have needed any of these forced artifacts to seduce you or anyone else. You had caught him red handed through his game, though- again- it was far from being a bother. In contrary, you enjoyed it. However, the little voice in your head couldn’t help but beg you to deny his offer whilst the other part of yourself desperately wanted you to give in his flirts. Your body easily became a battlefield for those two separate opinions to fight and argue endlessly.

Face to your lack of answer- and that mostly because you were lost in your thoughts- Tom tilted his head before moving his hands down to the opening of your robe, gently starting to pull on it in order to reveal your bare chest. However, your own hand was soon to move up to his wrist and take a firm hold of it, asserting dominance and stopping the older man through his track. Face to this hostile move, the actor couldn’t help but grow confused. He frowned and accepted to respectfully pull his hand away. “Do you not want this? I beg your pardon, I thought you shared those same feelings which previously took possession of my body.” Tom explained, referring to how he felt whilst shooting the infamous scene barely a couple of minutes ago.

“No no, I do.” Your responded, your main priority being to make sure that he wouldn’t feel like he was in the wrong nor inappropriate. You finally agreed to get up from the chair you have been sitting on, still unfortunately remaining shorter than your screen partner who towered above you. “But isn’t this... not such a good thing? I mean, I always hear people brag about not mixing your love life with coworkers.” You explained, remaining aware that Tom surely didn’t work that way, which was easily noticeable if you bothered to take a look at the female casts from the movies he’s played in and link it all up with his never ending list of ex romantic partners.

Upon noticing that he didn’t seem to truly pay attention to your words, but more to your face, you stopped yourself through your speech. He was adorning those flirty eyes of his, which no woman could potentially resist to. No matter how hard you fought, in the end, you’d always fall for him. “Can you- stop looking at me like that, with your eyes and.. eyebrows.. and all of it.” You ordered, hands gesturing towards his face. Hearing those satisfying words, Tom accentuated his facial features game. “Looking at you like what?” He responded, slowly moving closer to your body until his hands could finally wrap around your waist. It felt like a huge victory to him.

Before you could know it, Tom’s lips pressed against yours, the man offering you a genuine and intense kiss which honestly resembled the ones he’d give you on set. But for now, this didn’t matter. All that mattered was that you were sharing a wanted and needed moment with your screen partner. His hands moved down from your cheeks to your shoulders, pushing off your robe which fell off your body with ease. Unlike him, you didn’t adorn any form of underwear and was therefore left naked for the older man to cherish and enjoy. The kiss progressively intensified, both of your lips parting in order to allow each other’s tongue to come in.

As he embraced your figure, Tom slowly started to push you towards the nearest wall, the two of you stumbling upon a couple of objects before your back could finally collide with the hard material. You moaned against his mouth, knee moving up to his hip which allowed you to feel his hardening bulge against your sensitive core. Your clit was throbbing, begging for sexual satisfaction coming from the man. Feeling your leg suddenly raise against his hip, Tom’s hand moved underneath your thigh and made sure to hold it up there, offering you some free support so you wouldn’t have to carry the heavy member on your own.

Tom cared a lot about the feminine pleasure- probably more than he did care for his own- which would surely guarantee you a good time spent with him during this early afternoon.

Upon feeling that you were now wrapping your arms around his neck, Tom decided to take the initiative to pull his boxers down- setting free his hardening member which had yet to grow to its full size. He was now able to fully pick you up, hands wrapped underneath your thighs in a cautious manner. His tip wouldn’t stop colliding with your soaking hole, visibly begging for entrance without ever truly daring to cross the step. Thankfully, you knew that Tom had always been a very determined man who usually reached out for the stuff he wanted instead of waiting for people to give it to him.

Therefore, it didn’t take long for him to carefully sit you down on his cock, being able to feel that you were now wet enough to painlessly welcome in his prominent member. You guys moaned together, his forehead pressing against yours as his girth was progressively coated with your love juices. Once he reached balls deep, the actor decided to take a couple of seconds in order to allow you to adjust to his size, ocean blue eyes looking up at your face which he admired and praised more than anything in the world at the moment.

Kissing your lips, Tom began to move again, hips gently and cautiously thrusting forward and retracting backwards repetitively until he felt like he could now fasten his pace. Meanwhile, you found yourself lost through pleasure and bliss, forehead firmly pressed against his as you decided that it would probably be wiser for you to keep your mouth shut and avoid to attract anyone else’s attention. Besides, you only wanted and needed his. Moaning out loud would’ve been a great risk to take as the two of you remained aware that you were in a studio filled with thousands of working people. Therefore, Tom regulated his pleasure by wincing and hissing silently whilst you decided to carry on humming sensitively.

Your arms remained wrapped around his neck as he carried on pleasuring your cunt as well as his own member, lips praising your neck which in some way also helped him through the restricted moans process. His girth rubbed past every single sensitive spot of yours, g-spot going wild and swelling out of pleasure due to the man’s perfectly appropriate actions and mannerisms. However, and without giving you a warning, Tom suddenly pulled out in order to flip you around- you chest now facing the wall as you were soon to understand that your job was now to bend over for him. His arms had probably grown tired of carrying you, which you acknowledged and understood.

Before he decided to bend you over, his large hands moved up to your breasts from behind your back, caressing and squeezing them with a lot of lustful care before he retracted his hand back to your spine, pressing his palm against your flesh and forcing you to slightly bend over. There wasn’t much space between you and the wall, which therefore only allowed you to fold a little bit. Your own palms collided with the wall as Tom’s hand caressed all the way down to your bum, giving the flesh a gentle slap before allowing his digits to take ahold of his own girth. He guided his tip to your entrance again, taking time through his actions to make sure that he would execute them properly and painlessly. Even through lust, Tom remained a gentleman.

Feeling his hardness slide inside of you again made your legs tremble, yet Tom made sure to hold you up by giving your hips a gentle and reassuring squeeze. The muscles he had developed through the intense hours spent at the gym contracted as he began to move in and out of you as you tried your best to once again remain silent and discreet. Though, a couple of moans eventually had to escape your lips. Tom shushed you respectfully, giving your bum a light spank which stood as a punishment face to your risky behavior. Yet you refused to complain, smile appearing on your parted lips as the older man continued to pound your core.

Eventually, his hips began to stutter, thrusts gaining in sloppiness which was due to his nearing orgasm. This once Tom didn’t manage to hold back his own moans, hums and groans escaping his lips as he respectfully pulled out right before white strings of sperm could be projected against your cervix. Instead, the thick liquid landed on your back, staining your flesh. “Fuck..” he praised, taking a deep breath in before exhaling loudly. His hips continued to gently rock against yours, shaft rubbing against your upper bum as Tom wished to fully get over his orgasm.

You were left emotionally shattered, body still recovering from the intense amount of emotions and sensations which had previously taken possession of your body- brain still attempting to figure out wether this was right or negative for both of your careers.

Y’all asked : I deliver. I hope you managed to enjoy it! Requested tags : @lokis-leah @marianastudiesart @fa-me @lokistoriesblog @sunshineyrosie @delightfulheartdream ❤️

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