#but he's not in it for the money or the notoriety

[secondbeatsongs]

it's so funny trying to talk to people about Speed Racer (2008), because it's like...what if there was a guy who drove a car so well that he defeated capitalism

#speed racer #speed racer 2008 #speed racer (2008) #it's like #imagine there's a nascar driver with no sponsors. no logos on his car or jacket or anything. and he's the only one without logos #everyone else is plastered with 'em like in any normal race #(except for this one other dude who seems weirdly attached to the first dude) #(but don't worry about it) #anyway #so this guy's the best driver in the world #but he's not in it for the money or the notoriety #just for pure _love of the game_ #he just likes racing! #and so he finds a way #to drive a car so well #that he sends jeff bezos to prison #and dissolves the biggest corporation in the world overnight #that's what speed racer is #thank you for coming to my ted talk #anyway I might have had this conversation with a nice old lady today #in my defense #she asked

[total-drama-brainrot]

Saw this somewhere and wanted to throw it your way, sorry if you’ve been asked this before but what do you think of the concept of Noah always having been an assistant (even before the first season)/never playing as a contestant would look like?

The thing about Noah as a contestant is that he's, for all intents and purposes, kind of useless. And by that I mean Noah as a character isn't important to the plot at all in the grand scheme of things. He's barely important from an episodic point of view either; Noah does very little throughout Total Drama in terms of story relevance, and just in general. (Lazy king 👑.)

So taking him out of the equation wouldn't really affect too much in the grand scheme of things, save for probably preventing his friendship with Owen and, from a fanon standpoint, the rest of team E-scope. He'd be pretty much the same person, just behind the camera instead of on it.

But that's kind of a boring answer, and not at all what you were looking for, right?

So, let's say that Noah lands himself a job working as the personal assistant for some hot-shot A-list celebrity through one of his many siblings' various contacts; is it nepotism? Probably. But who's Noah to look a gift horse in the mouth? A fairly easy job following some pretentious asshole around all day and grabbing him the occasional coffee sounds like a pretty sweet gig, especially with the salary and various benefits that come with the job description. So Noah takes the job without question.

And that's how he finds himself stuck in the middle of nowhere, Muskoka, on an undisclosed island owned by said A-lister whilst he films the first season of his new Reality TV show, Total Drama Island.

Being Chris' personal assistant was supposed to be an easy pay check. "Supposed to be" being the point of interest there; Noah didn't anticipate Chris being as sadistic or as childishly needy as he was. If he wasn't running around like a headless chicken trying to accommodate for Chris' oftentimes outlandish whims and fancies, he was stuck answering to the producers in the host's stead- and the producers were pissed with Chris more often than not for his frivolous use of the show's budget. Something about having a genius level IQ and enough snark to make grown men cry apparently made him qualified enough to deal with the industry big-wigs. Noah was far too overworked to question it.

So much for an easy pay check.

Noah's not bad at his job by any means. In his professional opinion, the whole show and Chris' career would be in the dumps without his personal input keeping everything afloat. That doesn't mean he doesn't loathe his job with every sleep-deprived inch of his being.

And, inevitably, Noah ends up spending a lot of time around the campers themselves. Mostly as a consequence of always having to remain "on set" so to speak, since Noah's pretty much contractually obligated to linger around Chris' vicinity and wait for his boss to assign him some menial task to do. Most of the campers are just as egocentric and insufferable as he'd first assumed- and honestly, what else would he expect from people who singed up for a Reality TV show?- but a select few turn out to be decent company; namely Owen and Eva (and Izzy, but Noah refuses to admit that the "Psycho Hose Beast" is actually bearable to be around).

He'd even go so far as to claim they were friends good acquaintances.

Of course, his job takes precedent over frivolous things like relationships, platonic or otherwise, so Noah doesn't exactly have the free time to hang out with them. Which is probably for the best considering if he did spend a lot of time around his friends acquaintances, the other contestants would have a solid enough foundation for accusations of foul play in the competition, and that's a headache Noah really doesn't want to deal with.

Consequently, Noah floats through the filming of Island, and later on Action, maintaining cordiality with his little group and cold indifference towards pretty much the rest of the cast. Not that he doesn't keep close tabs on the campers; of course he does, not only is Noah incredibly observant by nature, but he's also the one in charge of accommodating for these weirdos... plus, Chris is oddly invested in his "prize cast of ratings jewels", whatever that means. So Noah knows these people, probably more than some of them know themselves, thanks to a combined sixteen-ish weeks of observation and forced proximity.

In turn, the competitors know of Noah, though for the most part he's regarded as little more than a spectre on set- Chris' elusive personal assistant who the cast will occasionally see the barest glimpse of, usually hidden behind an impassive pair of mirrored sunglasses and, more often than not, rushing off to do whatever it is a PA does. Chris does get a little lazy in Action and on a few occasions does get Noah to make a "guest appearances" on screen- mostly just to deliver him a coffee and a gluten free muffin during the downtime of that day's challenge- but he's still practically non-existent to he majority of the cast.

Which is fine by him.

What isn't fine by him is the surprise addition of two people he knows nothing about, come the third season.

One of those contestants happens to know a lot about the cast, and a concerning amount of information about him. It's uncanny, just how much Sierra seems to know about everyone around her, even more so because of the way she practically worships the ground they walk on. Sure, Noah's encountered the odd super fan here and there- not fans of himself, of course, but in this time as Chris' assistant he's had to chase off more than enough rabid fans from trying to sneak their way onto the set of whatever show Chris was working on (or more accurately sic the on-scene security on them)- but Sierra's brand of crazy takes it to a whole new level. Noah doesn't like her on principle and is both incredibly vindicated and incredibly concerned when her stalkerish behaviour rears its ugly head. Not that he's allowed to do anything about it; the producers are adamant that Sierra's outlandish behaviour is entertaining enough for the audience to ignore the immorality, and given how much Chris has been allowed tog et away with in the past Noah's inclined to begrudgingly agree.

And the other new contestant? The one who qualified for the apparently non-existent Total Drama Dirtbags (and Noah totally isn't salty about that show being an elaborate ruse that he spent countless sleepless nights working on)? Noah's just as concerned about his friends acquaintances ignorance to Alejandro's inherent sliminess as he is about Sierra's blatant disregard for others' privacy, but again it's not like he can do anything about it. He's not even supposed to be on the show, so any sort of interference would be a big no-no.

Oh, what's that? They want him on the show?

Fuck.

Turns out, Noah's brief appearances during Action (characterised by his usual level of sass and snide comments) really resonated with their audience; they like him for some inexplicable reason, and want to see more of "Noah, Chris McLean's mysterious personal assistant".

So he's pretty much forced into acting as a co-host of sorts, much like Chef had done for the first two seasons, all whilst carrying out his usual tasks. Is he happy about this? Not a chance in hell, and he lets the producers know exactly how he feels about the sudden change in his contract. Not that it changes anything.

And the best part? World Tour is a musical themed season. If they expect him to sing, they've got another thing coming.

But, as a small part of him chimes in, spending more time on camera would give Noah plenty of opportunities to spend time with his friends acquaintances. There's a non-zero chance that he could have fun, even if it's at the expense of his valued privacy.

His new status as part of the show does allow Noah some opportunities to skew the competition in the favour of his friends acquaint- no, screw it, his friends. That's one silver lining of the whole situation.

Better yet, he can tilt things out of Alejandro's favour, since the former Dirtbag seems to have a knack for manipulating the competition anyway- Noah might as well make things more challenging for him, as it seems this game is too easy for him thus far.

#that's just my take on it i guess #in short: noah's a tad bit more isolated and a lot more vindictive. mostly against the producers though. #i imagine a noah who didn't sign up for total drama would value his anonymity a lot more. THIS noah isn't looking for fame or notoriety. #he's just looking for Cash Money. #as such being forced into the limelight would make him grumpier than usual. #he spends the majority of world tour trying to get alejandro eliminated because he's the producer's favourite. no other reason. #al the while being as unhelpful and outright antagonistic as possible as a “co-host”. #mostly to make himself as unmarketable and unlikable as possible so the audience don't want him to stay around. #ironically this only makes him more popular. noah hates it. #he also spends the majority of world tour trying to prevent sierra from leaking people's private information to varied results. #noah's a voice of reason in a cacophony of screaming. no matter how loud he shouts he'll never be heard. #can't decide whether i want him and blaineley to team up post-merge or for them to be enemies on sight. #total drama #td noah #assistant noah au #others' ideas #silly ideas #ophe's ranting in the tags again #long post #replies #kinda drafty in here (posts from the drafts)

[tribow]

I wish the energy people spent on hating elon musk was spent on scrutinizing their politicians and bills.

#elon musk #like i get it the dude sucks #but instead of screaming at the idiot being an idiot maybe scream at those allowing him to be awful to his employees? #the space x rocket isn't even worth clowning on him for #he didnt build that shit and its a unique rocket design it would have been genuinely cool if that worked #aaaa but he put his money in it so rocket bad space x bad #y'all just letting him take credit for the rocket like okay #haters literally just giving him more notoriety #meanwhile america has some of the worst bills of all time dancing around and I barely hear a peep about it #the dude isn't worth hating #nothing would be solved if he was suddenly gone #helluva a lot would be solved by killing these bills though

[battlekidx2]

Alastor Episodes 7 and 8 Thoughts

These two episodes really gave us a lot in regards to Alastor and I cannot wait to see where they go with him in season 2. What I find most fascinating about what they established with him in these episodes is how I think this perfectly sets up Alastor to directly challenge the show’s main themes of redemption.

Alastor is the only character in the main cast that I think could effectively challenge Charlie’s idea of redemption by making her face the question of “where the line for who can be redeemed and who is too far gone is?” 

Even Vaggie and her past as an exorcist couldn’t challenge Charlie’s ideals in the same way because Vaggie so clearly wants to be better and is trying to be better. She could only challenge Charlie’s idea of who could be redeemed. She couldn’t truly challenge the line of when someone is too far gone unlike Alastor. 

And to explain this I'll just jump right in.

It’s clear these two episodes were meant to show a shift in Alastor and Charlie’s relationship in some capacity. It’s a bit more of a subtle shift than with the other characters, but I think it’s setting up this future conflict well for the limited time the show has. 

At the start Charlie doesn’t think Alastor cares and calls him out on this. She directly states that she believes he enjoys the suffering. He refutes her idea of him by stating she doesn’t know what he feels. He purposefully hides his feelings behind a smile as a sign of control. (The first shift. It tells her there’s more beneath the surface)

Then Alastor helps Charlie enlist cannibal town and says he wants to mentor her in the song. This is more than the initial indifference and humor he got out of Charlie at the beginning. There’s an interest in seeing Charlie grow and being a part of it that wasn't there before. And, with Alastor helping Charlie here, trust is being built (at least on Charlie's end).

Then Alastor talks to Niffty (who he is clearly fond of) and admits he finds the group enjoyable to be around. He says he could grow accustomed to them after Niffty says she really likes them almost in agreement with her. He's very candid with Niffty and doesn't seem to feel the need to hide his emotions around her. They appear to be on the same wavelength.

And finally, Charlie is upset when she thinks that Alastor died against Adam and hugs him happily when he returns. In Charlie’s eyes Alastor has been helpful and risked himself and his power to protect the hotel. This is a true shift in their relationship on Charlie's end.

This bond is necessary because if (at the very least) Charlie doesn't care about Alastor then he won't be able to truly challenge her idea of redemption and the show implies it doesn't just go one way. It's just obscured.

To explain what I mean I want to look at Alastor's role in the final battle and that moment when he is alone after he escapes.

At the beginning of the battle he felt like the trump card he should have been. He makes the exorcists, before Adam destroys his shield, look like a joke. And he gives Adam a run for his money before he becomes overconfident and lets his guard down. He didn’t expect Adam to bounce back and have that much power left to show. He was caught completely off guard and paid the price. 

And instead of staying to face the end with the rest of the people in the hotel Alastor opts to save himself. He places himself first. When he leaves he seems almost smug, spouting off a one liner and smiling as he sinks into the shadows. It seems calculated and calm, but alone is a completely different story. This moment shakes Alastor and that moment alone puts his fight against Adam and decision to flee in a different light.

In this moment when he's alone he starts to lose it, saying there has to be a way out. This isn’t where things end. He will come out on top. 

He can feel his control over the situation slipping. His power and notoriety has been challenged left and right this season. First Vox, then Lucifer, then the loan sharks, now Adam. It’s one right after the other. And Adam almost killed him.

He’s struggling to grasp onto what little control he has left by forcing himself to keep on his smile and it calls back to the beginning of episode 7 when he says to Charlie that just because she sees a smile doesn't mean she knows how he really feels. His smile is a sign of control. And even in this moment you can see that last bit of control slipping. And it’s left him even more desperate for his freedom than before.

The Radio Demon was introduced almost as if he was an all powerful entity and now he is being brought back down to earth and he’s raging against it, barely keeping it just below the surface. 

But there’s even more to his breakdown than just his pride. The lines “Great Alastor, altruist, died for his friends. Sorry to disappoint that is not where this ends. I’m hungry for freedom like never before. The constraints of my deal surely have a backdoor.” strongly imply that he really does care for the residents of the hotel more than he wants to admit even to himself.

He is freaking out because he got too close to dying trying to protect and help people that he never thought he would care at all about and he’s doubling down on his plans from before. 

His immediate desperation to be free implies he is at the hotel because he is forced to be there, but he’s desperate to get out of the contract because he doesn’t like how it’s changing him. Alastor has always put himself first and here he is almost dying trying to protect this hotel and it's rattled him even more deeply than the blow to his pride.

I feel like they know exactly what Alastor can mean thematically and they want you to know he’s a villain while seeding hints there could be change under the surface (ones that Alastor himself is afraid of and wants to double down against). There’s a balancing act going on with him and it seems they really do want to challenge the idea of redemption with him. Not just Charlie’s, but his own as well.

Alastor is still in my opinion the best written character in the series. There’s just so much to unravel with him and he’s the most fun to try and dissect to me. I can’t wait to see what they have planned for him in season 2.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #the show must go on #hello rosie #charlie #netflix #Alastor is such a fascinating character #he has the potential to really challenge Charlie's views of redemption #By either showing her when someone is too far gone #because he doubled down on his original plans #or actually accepting that he's changing #and finding “redemption” #thus proving that anyone can change #even a sadistic prideful overlord

[rebelspykatie]

Steve joins a fraternity because of his father, slots himself easily into the most prestigious fraternity on campus as a legacy. All the guys envy him, his father’s name following him, branding him as a top dog, even as a lowly freshman. The other pledges either resent him or suck up to him, hoping some of that Harrington charm will rub off on them. 

Steve’s done what’s expected of him his whole life, but college gives him that taste of freedom he’s longed for. When he starts dating Eddie, it’s like a breath of fresh air. Besides Robin, he’s the first person that really sees Steve. He’s not a Harrington, or King Steve, or a legacy pledge. He’s just Steve and it’s intoxicating. 

Expectations weigh heavily on Steve. He’s bound to disappoint. He’s used to being the prettiest person in the room, but not the smartest, and the future his father has laid out for him is outside of his capabilities. He’s never going to be a lawyer and take over his father’s firm. He’s never going to be as smart as his little brother Dustin. He’s never going to be anything besides a trophy husband at this rate, good at spending daddy’s money and looking good on social media. 

But Eddie makes him feel like he’s more. More than his father’s name, more than the notoriety he brings to his house. What’s not easy, is that Eddie is in a rival fraternity. Steve begged him not to go to the dark side, but Eddie couldn’t be swayed. The stuffy, prestigious nature of Steve’s house didn’t appeal to Eddie. No, he was drawn to the misfits, the house of slackers and party animals. He wanted to have fun, not make a name for himself. Steve wishes he had that freedom.

The rivalry gets between them, pranks wars gone wrong, comments on how they’re fraternizing with the enemy. Eddie’s better than Steve at ignoring it. It gets under his skin and festers. Eddie’s never on time, always partying with his brothers, late night dnd sessions that seem to be more important than their dates. When Eddie misses a function and leaves Steve standing there alone like an idiot, it’s the last straw and they part ways. 

It’s hard to avoid your ex when you’re on the same campus, just a few houses down from each other. But Steve gets over Eddie by getting under Tommy. He falls prey to his father’s expectations again and sees Tommy as the advantageous match he could be. They’re closer to equals, rich fathers and ambitions that get the best of them. 

It’s easy with Tommy in a different way, the way they both know deep down it’s a political match. They’re both gaining something from this. Tommy gets the hottest guy on campus on his arm, the future leader of their fraternity, and Steve gets to tell his father he’s not messing up his entire life dating a directionless, no-name loser from the worst fraternity on campus. Even if his father’s comments on Eddie make his blood boil, wanting to leap to Eddie's defense, even if he doesn’t deserve it after abandoning Steve. 

Steve’s never been made of the hard stuff like his father or Tommy, he’s always been brittle, too soft on the inside, too fragile to handle that kind of pressure long term. And it cracks, blows up in his face when Dustin wants to pledge and finds Tommy cheating on him with Carol. 

Dustin is less scared of their father, not the firstborn, never expected to take over the business, but he’s also inherently got more freedom because he’s known since he was a kid that he wanted to be a polymer engineer. That path is straightforward and one filled with accolades that impress, the kind of degree you can name drop at a business meeting and not be embarrassed about, because you know Dustin’s not destitute and broke. Dustin’s also never been good at the game their father plays. He’s honest and kind, even if he’s a sarcastic little shit. 

It shocks everyone when Dustin decides to rush Eddie’s fraternity. It’s become a home to misfits in the Greek system, the ones that don’t realy fit in anywhere else. Probably because they’re less worried about grades and more worried about their dnd campaigns and how many nerds they can collect under one roof. That should’ve been enough of a clue for Steve on where he’d land, but Steve is still blindsided by it. Mostly because it inadvertently brings Eddie back into his life. 

Suddenly he’s around every corner, teasing Steve about Dustin, asking more questions about their home life than he ever did while they were together, like there’s no bad blood between them and with a hint of understanding behind his eyes. He even checks in on Steve post Tommy fiasco. It tugs at something in his gut, tricks Steve into thinking Eddie still cares, that he didn’t abandon him because he found out how little Steve has to offer. That he didn’t get tired of Steve not being enough. 

Maybe Steve’s ready to give Eddie another chance. Maybe they deserve another chance at something real, especially when the universe keeps pulling them together. Steve wants something that’s his for once, something he built on his own, something that his father has no hand in. Eddie Munson might just be the very thing that saves Steve from himself. 

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #katie writes #greek au

[play-now-my-lord]

A funny thing about the attempt to make Scorsese into one pole of those "highbrow (actually middlebrow) vs. middlebrow (actually lowbrow) art" tastes-great-more-filling stealth advertising things - okay, let's start over, a funny thing about Disney/Marvel directors and Scorsese talking shit on each other is this:

Scorsese views himself mostly as a craftsman, his films primarily as a jobsite, and gets asked questions about movies as part of that (admittedly very weird) job. His admirers see him as a visionary artist, but that's ultimately secondary for him to getting shit like cinematography, casting, direction, etc right - the things a director does, not what they aspire to. This is all over how he talks about other directors, focusing primarily on craft; it's actually pretty rare for him to make blanket statements about such-and-such a genre being artless schlock, the sort of shit you'd hear from someone who is a film critic for a living rather than gladhanding producers for a living.

The Disney/Marvel directors view themselves mostly as artists, their films primarily as a form of self-expression (admittedly under tight limits imposed by the demands of money), and are strongly incentivized to engage in something we might call "counter-criticism" by a mix of ego and studio pressure. Their concerns are at the end of the day artistic concerns, prestige and respect for achieving finished films, which is measurable in part by box office returns and in part by aggregate critical reception - which skews absurdly positive to begin with! But negative reviews by people they can't brush off are something they have an incredibly difficult time tolerating.

This state of affairs is, to put it lightly, incredibly strange. Scorsese is globally admired as a filmmaker with a specific artistic vision, but his vocabulary and concerns in embodying that vision are technical. The various directors of Disney/Marvel films are a revolving door of hired hands who have, exercise, and seemingly desire close to zero creative control over their most noteworthy work - and yet their concerns are artistic.

This is a dialogue that takes place on a smaller scale in many forms of art; it's extremely commonplace for artists with outsized industrial-scale success (and let us diplomatically say significantly compromised fidelity to their stated desires as artists) to wear the brittle persona of a misunderstood visionary, and for the actual visionaries who have achieved some notoriety (and the nobodies who live in their shadow) to have primarily technical and economistic concerns, and for these two groups to frequently butt heads while talking completely past each other. Something something Walter Benjamin, I guess!

#frog thoughts

[dracoj]

glass onion demonstrates how great satire often seems prophetic since it draws on what’s plain to see in the present. fake-elon Miles Bron waters a crowd of sycophants to do his bidding, throws money around until smarter people turn his idiotic ideas into something workable; worse-elon bought twitter in what looked like a childish fit of pique, grand proclamations to finally rid the platform of bots and meanies*. but that can’t be what’s going on right? theres gotta be something we’re not seeing, no one would make such nonsensical, expensive, dangerous decisions just for notoriety. there’s gotta be some master plan. but no, glass onion says (way back in 2021!), the center is clear. to see it, you just need to accept that he really is that fucking stupid.

#* people who don’t laugh at his jokes #j rambles #knives out #glass onion #watching this movie mirrored the experience I had watching the Twitter news over the past couple months #thinking ‘oh so he really is just that fucking stupid’ with every lore drop #really enjoyed it. paired nicely with my recent columbo kick #glass onion spoilers #1k

[stinkywritin]

Late Night Devil

Lee Heeseung x male reader

Short synopsis: You catch a glimpse of the mysterious figure and your life’s forever changed…

…a nice way of saying gay vampire Heeseung brain rot

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, essentially PWP, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), top!Heeseung, bottom!male reader, oral (reader receiving), biting kink, praise kink, FILTH IM SORRY

Title from song Teeth by 5 Seconds of Summer

(a reupload a my favorite fic from my old blog)

You felt eyes on you ever since you arrived at the party.

Ever since you walked through the front doors with your mother and father, you felt as though you were being watched. No matter how many times you turned around and checked, there wasn’t anyone looking.

Not until you got to the banquet hall.

Everything was draped in luxurious red cloth, the high ceilings connected to a glass dome which allowed the guests a full view of the starry night sky. The tables adorned with the finest tablecloths and expensive tableware you felt nervous picking up for fear of breaking it, the near overwhelming amount of candlelight contrasting the darkness of the night. The dark wooden chairs complimented the equally as dark tables, the ballroom devoid of all color except for the hints of burgundy.

You continued to feel watched over even as you slid down onto one of the chairs next to your mother, your black coat draped over the back of the chair as you fiddled with the silver rings on your hand. One of the rings on your finger was etched with your family crest, handed down from your father once you became of adult age and joined your father’s oil business. Light organ notes danced in the air as the chatter amongst guests grew louder, more families arriving and filling up the tables.

“Sit up straight Y/N!” Your mother scorned you, her previous lecture of maintaining the family image still ringing in your ears. Her voice sounded strained through the tight corset, you were pretty sure her internal organs were all smushed together. A tight lipped smile stretched on her face as she looked around the banquet hall, many other families and members of higher society. Politicians, heirs to fortunes, royal family members, everyone who had more money than they knew what to do with.

Through your father’s business, your family was ranked fairly high on the social status, no where near the level of royalty but definitely a name with notoriety. You being the eldest son meant you’re the child who received the burden of continuing you family’s legacy, expected to not only further your business’s success but to also hand it down to another son. Either this or marry into an even richer family but you were never interested in any of the female suitors your father brought to you, denying any advance before retreating into your studies.

Your father suddenly beckoned you to his side across the hall, champagne glass in hand along with the most manufactured smile while speaking to other men with the same expressions. Your face was devoid of any emotion as you walked to join his side, the light tapping of your shoes on the banquet hall tile was drowned out by the band in the corner.

It’s not that you didn’t like your father, quite frankly you didn’t know enough about him in order to form a sold opinion about him. You’d seen his multimillion dollar company run so many small villages into the ground, clearing out acres of land for hopes of even drilling a single drop of oil. You heard the protests of the people in your country, pleading for companies to stop their mindless destruction of land but like all the other companies, your father didn’t listen. You had no intention of continuing the family business, hoping that maybe one of your siblings would take it over or that you could personally destroy it from the inside out. Plans to escape the damned family business flooded your mind as you stood next to your father, stone faced as he bragged to a distant colleague about whatever bullshit rich old men brag about.

It was during a conversation about coal plants that you saw him for the first time.

Your eyes mindlessly moved along the grand staircase, up along the marbled railing of the balcony, before spotting him alone with his hands folded along the railing. Eyes instantly meeting yours.

His skin was perfectly smoothed and sculpted, his appearance statuesque as he held strong eye contact with you. The darkness in his eyes matched the slant in his grin, a devious smirk was on his lips as his eyes raked you in, seemingly drawing you closer to him. The dark strands on his head complimented the dark velvet coat on his shoulders, the ruffles of his white shirt peaking forward elegantly.

“Y/N what do you think?” Your father’s voice interrupted your speechless encounter with the brunette, ripping your eyes from the beauty before you to bring you back to Earth. Dante himself wouldn’t be able to fully capture the beauty of the man you laid your eyes on, his descriptions of heaven coming second to the allure of the man who captured your attention.

“Sorry come again?” You replied haphazardly, already tuning out the conversation before you look back up to the gorgeous creature from before. Only in the mere seconds you looked away, he had vanished. Your bewildered eyes searched all over the balcony for him, refusing to believe he was a figment of your imagination.

“Sorry gentlemen please excuse me one moment” you politely moved away from the men, leaving behind a group of insulted men and your angry father. Your heart rate picked up as you began your search for the man from earlier, refusing to let him leave your life as quickly as he had entered.

Your footsteps echoed in the hallways of the palace, the tiled floor ways leading to multiple different rooms. You came across a portrait in a hallway far from the banquet hall, the frame picturing a family with an only child. A son whose eyes seemed to bore into your sole, the faces of the parents had been scratched out, the colors worn pale from age.

“Such a shame isn’t it?” A rich, melancholic voice startled you from your spot before the portrait, the handsome stranger from before suddenly appearing behind you. You hadn’t heard his footsteps, nor any other indication he was near you. “The colors were much more divine when the portrait was freshly made.”

“When was it painted?” You asked the stranger, his smile was playful as his eyes shifted from you to the painting.

His hands were folded behind his lower back as he spoke up, “I stopped counting after the third century.”

Well fuck. Even though everything about that response screamed ‘don’t come near me I’m dangerous,’ something about the way his eyes flatly observed the portrait before you pulled you in for more.

“Do you know the family?” You asked, your voice wavering as you continued to take in his appearance. The man before you seemed to have discarded his coat, the silk of his white shirt now on full display. There wasn’t a single wrinkle, every fold was pressed neatly on his body. If elegance was a person it truly would be him.

“Do you always stutter when asking questions?” His eyes quickly turned to make eye contact with you, a playful slant adorned his lips at his teasing. You couldn’t help the rush of heat to your face, hopefully he couldn’t see the blush on your face but judging by how his smile grew, it was evident he saw it.

“I guess only when I’m talking to pretty people” you shrugged, your eyes traveling away from his to study the portrait once again. The scratch marks on the faces of the parents tore through the canvas, making it obvious someone took a knife to the portrait. Although the colors were muted, you didn’t doubt that the robes and silks worn by the parents were more expensive than your father’s entire company. Then there was the little boy. He looked no more than 6 years of age, cheeks puffed and eyes full of childlike wonder, his face was the only one still remaining on the portrait.

“You can do better than juvenile pick up lines” the man scoffed, your eyes snapping back to him just in time to see him stifle a laugh. “This isn’t a school courtyard.”

You let out a chuckle, already cringing on your cheesy one liner. “I apologize for that sir but I don’t apologize for the pretty laugh it let me hear from you.” Now it was his turn to blush.

It was the chiming of the bells from the clock tower that erased the relaxed feeling between you two.

“Excuse me sir L/N but I’m afraid that’s my queue to leave.” As he started to turn on his heal away from you, a tight feeling within you snapped and you reached out to grab his wrist. Immediately you felt his ice cold skin on your hand, his face contorted in shock as he looked back to you. “What are you-“

“How did you know my last name?” You interrupt him, his furrowed brows softening on his face.

“Seeing as how I made the guest list I’m well acquainted with your family Y/N” his cheeky grin was back, his wrist still in your grasp. You relaxed your hold to let him escape but instead he took another step closer towards you.

“You’re part of the Lee family?” You questioned, even if you already knew the answer. The Lee family was one of the wealthiest royal families in the country, owning a luxurious castle away from all the surrounding villages. Your father said they were weird and antisocial but seeing as how they donated to many charities and political campaigns in the villages, they were immensely powerful. No one from the Lee family held any political or government position in centuries but that didn’t mean they weren’t pulling the strings from afar.

“And you still don’t seem to know my name?” His spunky grin broke you from your deep thoughts. You were face to face with a member of one of the most powerful families in the country, your father’s complaints of their wealth ringing in your ears.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized. “I just didn’t think I’d ever meet someone from your family.” You honestly stated, barely noticing just how close he was to you. Your noses were mere inches apart, a strong enough breeze would’ve been able to bring you two together

“Heeseung.” His voice was slightly above a whisper before he continued, “my name is Lee Heeseung.”

Before your brain could talk you out of it, you took his hand in yours before bringing the back of his palm up to your mouth. You have a slight bow as you pressed a feather like kiss to his ice cold skin, you knew he still had that damn smirk on his face even if your eyes were closed. “It’s an honor to meet you Heeseung, I’m F/N L/N of the L/N family.”

“I’m aware” he snatched his hand back, although the grin was still plastered on his face. “This is my home after all.”

Before turning around to leave, he added “Meet me back here at midnight.” It wasn’t a question, more of an order, but you wouldn’t have refused either way.

“I’ll be waiting.” You gave one more curt bow, at which he scoffed and walked away from you. You noticed he wasn’t walking back in the direction of the banquet hall, in fact he was going in the opposite direction.

You turned back towards the portrait before you and as you looked at the boy in the painting again you felt a heavy weight in the pit of your chest. You could suddenly recognize the boy being Heeseung, a smiling young Heeseung. And suddenly the remark of the painting being more than three centuries old made that weight in your chest even heavier.

——

True to your word you returned to your unofficial meeting spot.

It was a pain in the ass trying to shake off your parent’s prying eyes and overwhelming amount of questions. You hid the fact that you had met — and flirted — with Lee Heeseung from both of your parents, you knew they would demand that you introduced them to him so you made up a lie about getting lost trying to find a bathroom. Seeing your parents fake smiles and having to endure a terrible sales pitch from your father was a special kind of hell that you didn’t want Heeseung to experience. Thankfully they believed your lie and didn’t press any further, leaving you alone for the rest of the evening.

It was a little before midnight, right when you were about to leave to see Heeseung again, that you spoke to your mother. You told her you would stay behind for a little while longer and that they should leave without you, that you’d call a cab later and meet them back at the house. She seemed hesitant to leave you, wanting to know why you would be staying behind but in the end she hesitantly left with your father.

“Just promise you’ll be back in the morning?” She pleaded, cradling your face in the palms of her hands. “Or at least call me in the morning to let me know you’re still alive?”

“Yes mother don’t worry I’ll let you know everything” you offered her a wide grin as she pulled back, the clicks of her heels hitting the tiled floor growing quieter. Once she had gotten in the car with your father, you turned and quickly walked back to the hallway from earlier that evening.

—-

The corridors were empty, only the sound of your hurried footsteps could be heard echoing off the walls. The painting was still just as magnificent as it was earlier in the evening, except as you footsteps took you close to it, you could feel that familiar weight in your chest again. The breaths picked up as you eyed the portrait again, this time feeling as though it was pulling you in.

“You came back” the same honey voice startled you, Heeseung suddenly appearing next to you. He grinned at your attempts to catch your breath, your eyes still wide from the scare he gave you.

“Of course” you huffed out, composing yourself by straightening your back to look him in the eye. “I had some questions.”

Heeseung quirked his head to the side while his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, the smile still plastered in his face. “Questions?” He paused, you gave a shaky nod in reply. “Alright well, ask away.”

“Is that you?” You pointed to the little boy in the portrait, his goddamn grin was making it ten times harder for you to focus on trying to make sense of him.

“Yes that’s me.” Heeseung flatly responded, his eyes traveling to look at the portrait. “I think that was my sixth birthday if I can recall correctly.”

“And you said this was made over three centuries ago correct?” Your voice was wavering, your whole body feeling heavy with anxiety and dread. “How old are you?”

“Y/N don’t you know it’s considered rude to ask someone their age when you first meet?” Heeseung’s met with yours again, seemingly able to bore holes into your brain. As if he could sense the panic coursing through your veins, he sighed before answering “I can’t remember how old I am or how many years are passing by, they all seem to blur together and over time I found it’s easier to not count my age anymore.”

Heeseung’s entire demeanor changed; he was no longer carrying himself with a high level of confidence, instead of the usual cockiness there was a melancholic tone to his voice as he longingly stared at the portrait.

He continued, “I was normal just like you, just human. Until at age 20 I was turned into this by my lover. He turned me into this so that we could be together for all of eternity but shortly after I turned he was killed by some hunters from a village up north. I was 20, a freshly turned vampire and completely estranged by my family for choosing a male lover.” He clutched something in his hand, turning it over before he took a seat on the tiled floor. His back was pressed against the dark walls as he beckoned you to sit next to him.

Once you were sat next to him, your hands making contact with the cold tiles of the floor as your back rested against the wall, you could see a small locket in his hands. The metal was scuffed and old, showing signs of years of use.

“This family,” Heeseung continued. “It’s made up of vampires from all over the country who are just like me. No family to turn to, no friends and partners to depend on, nothing. The Lee family took me in, no questions asked and I’ve been here since. And while the banquets and parties have been quite distracting, I still haven’t been able to find anyone to grow closer to, not since I died and became this.”

A fresh tear had escaped from Heeseung’s eye, it traveled down his cheek until hitting the floor, the man not bothering to wipe it away.

“I’m sorry Heeseung” you shakily whispered, hoping your voice was loud enough to be heard by the vampire next to you. The weight you had felt in your chest earlier — the intense panic over what creature Heeseung was and whether or not he was dangerous — had started dissipating at his words. Not entirely however, and it seemed Heeseung could still sense the remaining anxieties.

“Don’t apologize I haven’t even answered your question yet,” Heeseung wiped the remains of his tears off of his cheek while letting out a small — forced — chuckle. You were forced to go to banquets and business meetings and a bunch of other gatherings of snobby rich people, you were used to fake smiles and even faker laughs; however Heeseung’s was the most heartbreaking of all.

“As for age all I can say for sure is that I’ve been a vampire for a little over 400 years,” Heesung’s fingers messed with the locket in his hand as he spoke. “Anything else you’d like to ask Mr. L/N”

Heeseung had cocked his head to look at you, his eyes instantly letting yours. Sitting beside you was a supposed ‘creature of the undead’, something that up until recently you believed to be fake and the material for fiction. And yet the way Heeseung’s smile seemed to fill your being with bliss was anything but fiction, the way he had drawn you in even if you had only met that evening was a beautiful reality.

But that doesn’t mean you don’t still have questions.

“If you say you ran away to join this family how did you get that painting?” The teasing in your tone evoked a surprised laugh from Heeseung, the atmosphere surrounding you two had lightened, no longer full of worry.

“I’ve been alive longer than your great grandparents don’t question how I get stuff brat” Heeseung playfully pinched your shoulder, sending you two into a lighthearted scuffle that ended with Heeseung’s thighs straddling your lower torso.

“Ok I yield!” You huffed out between fits of laughter. As your chest rose and fell from your attempts to catch your breath, you could suddenly feel how close Heesung was. His hands held your wrists to the floor, his upper body draped over yours. “Okay one last question.”

“Ugh enough with the questions!” Heeseung chuckled out. After seeing the pleading look in your eyes he nodded his head, telling you it was okay to ask what was on your mind.

“Why did you ask me to come back here at midnight?” You asked, the underlying tone of your question being ‘are you going to kill me because I would please like to know in advance’.

“Is my interest in you not obvious enough?” Heeseung softly replied, grin widening when he sees the blush rise to your face. The hands that were on your wrists were now interlocking with yours, his hands delicately squeezing yours as he rested his forehead atop yours. “And here I was thinking you were also interested.”

“I am!” You helped out, causing a fit of giggles to erupt from Heeseung at your eagerness.

Heeseung’s hands were still interlocked with yours as he calmed down, his face still so close to yours. The way his eyes were sparkling with joy made the weight dissipate completely. Heeseung’s faced leaned impossibly closer to yours, his lips mere centimeters away from yours. “You’re so gorgeous the second I saw you I knew I had to talk to you. I knew I would miss the rest of the banquet because I had some business to take care of with another town’s mayor. Corrupt politicians and what not, such a pain to clean blood stains on carpets by the way.” Heeseung rolled his eyes at his comment, you could feel your heart rate pick up at the way his eyes flicked between your eyes and your lips.

“But I knew I had to see you again which is why I asked you to meet me here.” You felt your dick twitch at his words, the smirk playing on his lips was evidence he felt it too.

He started to slowly — so achingly slowly — roll his hips over your bulge. “The entire job I pleaded with the universe to let me see you again, all I could think about was how gorgeous you are Y/N.”

“Heeseung” you panted out, the fabric around your cock getting tighter. “Please kiss me.”

“Absolutely my love” Heeseung’s lips slotted perfectly with yours, your body heat felt as though it rose an extra 30 degrees. The way his lips fit with yours felt like an explosion of pure bliss, immediately opening your mouth to let his tongue in. The way Heeseung kissed you as if he was planning on devouring you made your head spin.

It could’ve been 30 seconds or 3 years but the kiss felt of pure heaven. No amount of time would ever be enough to fully satisfy the need you felt for each other, you thought this as Heeseung’s hip rolls began getting faster. After a particularly loud moan escaped your lips, Heeseung murmured into your ear, “Let me take you to bed my beauty.”

You eagerly nodded as he lifted you both up on your feet, leading you to his bedroom door while having his hand interlaced with yours. You two couldn’t help the giggles or the chaste kisses while you ran to his room.

—-

“Lie on your back for me sweetheart” Heeseung’s voice has seemed to drop a few octaves, sounding huskier as he pushed you back onto his silk sheets and started undoing the buttons on his shirt.

You quickly undid the laces of your boots, chucking them across the room before fumbling with the buttons on your shirt. You huffed in annoyance as you had difficulty getting your shirt off, Heeseung — who was now shirtless — took notice of your frustration and let out a low chuckle. His hands clasped yours as he placed them on you, slowly moving your hands down onto the bed before eagerly grabbing the collar of your blouse and tearing the fabric open. You gasped at the sound of the fabric ripping but quickly began to let out a deep groan as Heeseung began placing soft kisses down your chest. His lips were ice cold, making goosebumps rise all over your body from the drastic shift in temperature.

“There’s no time for slowly unbuttoning clothing” Heesung whispered into the skin on your sternum. His eyes switched back up to meet yours, the look of pure lust painting his eyes, “I want you now.”

“Then take me.” You gasped as Heeseung pushed your upper body down onto his bed, grabbing your hips and quickly pulling down your trousers and underwear, leaving you bare under him. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him close to you to bring him into another heated kiss. You felt the fabric of his pants on your cock as he began to grind his clothed bulge onto yours. The friction causing you to bite at his lower lip, your fingernails scratching onto the skin on his shoulders. One of his hands moved to graze over your bulge, the cold skin causing a shiver to run up your spine.

Heeseung continued to kiss and bite at the skin on your jawline as he wrapped a hand around your cock, giving it a harsh but arousing tug. “Knew you would sound heavenly darling” Heeseung said into your ear, the strokes of his hand becoming more even. “Knew it the second I laid my eyes on you.”

“Heeseung-“ you were cut off by your own whine as Heesung sharply removed his hand to slap your thigh.

“That’s hyung to you brat” Heeseung gave your thigh another harsh smack before bringing two fingers up to your lips. The pads of his icy fingertips grazing along your lower lip so slightly you could barely feel it. “Now open up.”

You opened your mouth to let his fingers dance along your tongue, wrapping your lips around his fingers and sighing. Heeseung’s eyes were fixated on the sight of you sucking on his fingers, his cock growing harder. He pulled his fingers out from your mouth before sliding them over your tight hole, inserting one finger in as you gasped in surprise. His fingers were still so, so cold, causing you to shiver again.

He slowly worked his finger in and out of your hole, teasing his second one before pushing them both in and stretching you open. As his fingers worked to stretch you open, Heeseung licked a stripe from your thigh to the base of your cock. You let out a loud yelp as he licked up the length of your cock, your hands flying to yank at the dark locks on his head. “Oh hyung that feels so good” you moaned out, your eyes squeezing shut from the overwhelming waves of pleasure that were washing over your body.

His fingers quickened their pace as Heeseung’s dark eyes looked up at you, he whispered with the head of your cock pressed against his bottom lip, “cum in my mouth gorgeous.” Heeseung’s mouth took you in, warmth engulfing your entire body as you cried out in pleasure. You could feel the pleasure overcoming you, making your brain foggy as all your senses were being overwhelmed.

All of a sudden the coil in you snapped, you came down his throat as he eagerly swallowed every drop you let out. Even as you came down from the intense feeling, his fingers were still working you open — albeit at a slower pace. When his fingers grazed your prostate you shivered while your thighs began to shake, throwing Heeseung a confused gaze.

“You didn’t think we were done did you?” His smirk causing your thoughts to muddle, he abruptly removed his fingers before smacking your thigh again. “Sit up now darling I haven’t gotten my fix yet.”

He laid back against the dark wood of his bedpost, a pillow separating his lower back from the wood. He removed his pants and underwear before turning to you and patting his thigh, beckoning you over. You let out a small chuckle, your post orgasm brain somehow finding the cheesiness of it all a little amusing.

Heeseung tilted his head in confusion as you crawled over, placing his hands on your hips before saying, “why are you laughing, darling?” He pulled you down to sit on his lower torso, his cock nestled between your cheeks which caused the blush on your face to deepen in slight embarrassment.

“You’re so cute” you placed an innocent peck on his lips, Heeseung gave you what felt like a hundred more as a response. He held you close as the grin on his face grew larger, both of your giggles breaking the kisses. As you both calmed down from your giggling fit, the eye contact you held began intensifying. Heeseung’s eyes seemed to hold all the stars in the night sky with the way they sparkled up at you, the light blush on his face deepening as you held him close.

His hand ran through the hair on the nape of your neck, his wide eyes and large grin seemed to distract you from the fact that you were both completely bare. His finger started to drag from the bottom of your ear down the slope of your neck before whispering, “Can I bite you darling?”

You could feel your soft length grow interested at his question, your eyes widened as they filled with curiosity. “You want to turn me?” Your question made the vampire look up at you, an unreadable look in his eyes.

“I don’t have to turn you.” Heeseung started, his cold hands tightening their grip on your skin. “I can feed from you and as long as I don’t take too much you’ll still be alive and, well, human.”

When the word ‘feeding’ fell from the man’s lips, you suddenly remembered the man — the vampire — below you could very easily kill you in two ways; by either draining all the blood from your body or turning you into an undead creature for the rest of eternity.

“I’ve been alive a long time Y/N” Heeseung’s voice bringing you back to the present. He continued, “I can control my appetite, I will not take more than you can handle and I will stop if you tell me to. You have my word darling.”

Instead of giving him a verbal response, you tilt your head to the side to give him full access to your neck and collarbones and nodded. Heeseung’s hands roughly pulled your hips up, aligning his length with your entrance before pulling you back down to sit on his lap. Your body shivered at the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins, the head of Heeseung’s cock was pressing against your g spot, leaving you full.

As you tried moving your hips, Heeseung would stop your movements to slam you back down onto his lap. His hands moved from your hips further down to hold your ass, his tongue licking over a spot on the crook of your neck. Your neglected length had been interested even after already orgasming once, however all pleasure before this failed in comparison to the feeling of Heeseung’s fangs piercing into your skin. His hips moved achingly slowly as he sunk his teeth into your neck, your grip on him tightening. Even if you had only met Heeseung that night you already knew he had ruined sex with anyone else in the future, it would be only him for the rest of your existence.

Heeseung’s hips kept a slow pace, his soft groan was muffled while he fed from your neck. The intense pleasure coming from Heeseung’s movements juxtaposed the sharp pain on your neck, your post orgasm brain becoming even muddier. You felt Heeseung remove his fangs from your neck, placing kisses on the marks left behind while his hips picked up a faster pace. The sounds of your bodies moving together echoed throughout the room, your pants being interrupted by Heeseung’s voice in your ear giving you encouragements.

“There you go, that’s my good boy.”

“Knew I had to have you the second I laid my eyes on you.”

“Darling you tasted so good, did so well for me.”

“Be as loud as you can for me Y/N, don’t hold back.”

The familiar sensation from earlier came back, this time magnified by ten. You could feel your muscles tightening as you reached your climax, your grip on Heeseung’s shoulders becoming more tense.

“Hyung I’m close,” you whined out. His thrusts were precise and fast, aiming and nailing your g spot head on every time.

“How cute,” Heeseung’s low voice went straight to your hard cock, his hand wrapping around your length and stroking in tandem with his hips. He continued, “My good boy wants to cum for me a second time. Make a mess for me sweet boy, I’m right there with you.”

You reached a moment of euphoria, your entire body tightening up before you came all over Heeseung’s hand. You felt Heeseung reach his high because his thrusts stilled, his grip on your body tightened before he went slack. Your body slumped into his as you now began trying to catch your breath. You heard Heeseung let out a giggle as he held up your tired body.

“Nope you’re not getting off that easy.” Heeseung quickly flipped you onto your back below him, the speed shaking you awake. His body was bent over yours, he brought one of his hands up to your mouth and put his palm to your lips. It was the palm that was covered in your release, “lick it off baby, you’re helping me clean up.”

You quickly licked your release off his hand, holding eye contact with him the entire time so you could see his proud smirk. His lips graced yours once you finished, your entire body slugging back into the sheets below you. “I’ll be right back baby.”

Your eyelids felt heavy while you watched him get off his bed, making his way across the room while nude which gave you a shameless view of his body.

He returned momentarily with some bandaids, along with a glass of water. “Sit up for me darling,” he said as he sat down next to you, putting the glass of water into your hands once you were up right. You lazily drank from the cup as Heeseung applied the bandaids to the wounds on your neck. “It’s not too bad but better safe than sorry.”

It seemed the vampire’s entire demeanor had changed, his touches soft on your skin as he took your now empty cup and placed it elsewhere. He laid back next to you, pulling the covers over your bodies before pulling you closer to him. “How do you have so much energy?” You grumbled, looking up at the vampire to see his bright smile.

“I don’t get tired,” Heeseung’s hand carded through your hair and scratched your scalp as he started talking, making it very difficult to stay awake. He continued, “It’s that vampire stamina, I don’t need sleep or rest. I don’t eat food either, well besides blood but it doesn’t have to be human. I physically can sleep, I just don’t need it to function so it’s basically just a nap.”

“Does that mean you can go another round?” Your hand had been lazily tracing patterns onto the vampire’s cold skin, slowly moving down his torso. Your body was still sluggish from your two orgasms but seeing the devious glint in Heeseung’s eyes was lighting a flame to your body.

“I don’t think you can keep up with me baby” Heeseung roughly pulled the (H/C) strands on the back of your head, pulling you up to make direct eye contact with him. “But if you insist.”

His teeth grazed your bottom lip, the feeling of his fangs eliciting a high pitched whine from the back of your throat; you might’ve bitten off more than you could chew.

Authors Note: Hey it’s V sorry about deleting my old blog but I’ll bring back a majority of my old fics. If you enjoyed, thank you very much !!! These are v fun to make and help me take my mind off real life stuff lmao. That’s it for now, brb folks -V

#enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen x male reader #lee heeseung #lee heeseung x reader #lee heeseung x male reader

[physical-manifestation-of-spite]

What I say: I hate Reigen Arataka (affectionate)

What I mean: Reigen Arataka is disgustingly and beautifully human. His flaws are raw and ugly and out in the open. He lies. He cheats. He steals. He takes advantage of the people he loves, using them to gain money and notoriety. He lies to the one boy who trusts him the most. He lies with almost breath he takes, like it’s a part of him, like he is ashamed of the person he truly is. And yet, he loves so much. He dedicates his life to teaching this boy how to be kind. He grounds people in reality with a single speech and it can change their entire life. He sees right through people, zeroing in on their most potent characteristics and their deepest lies after knowing them for only thirty minutes. He’s so good at helping people that people naturally gravitate to him, like flies to a light, looking to him as their tutor and leader. And yet, Reigen Arataka has no friends. He is a disappointment to his family. He is humiliated so embarrassingly in front of the world, finally getting retribution for his near-pathological lying, and you are forced to watch him stew in that shame as he struggles to live and grow with it. And then he overcomes it and comes clean, with ugly and humiliating tears in his eyes, to apologize to the boy he took advantage of for so long, who knows that he’s been a fraud from the very beginning. He grows. But he’s not over it completely. He still lies. He lets Tome continue to believe that he’s psychic. He doesn’t come clean to the world as a non-psychic. He continues to take money from people who don’t know any better. Nevertheless, when his kids -- when Tome and Mob especially -- are in danger, he acts without thinking, risking his life to protect their innocence -- their humanity. It is this constant dance of immorality to such self-sacrificial humanity that makes Reigen Arataka one of the best characters I have ever known.

#reigen arataka #it's all i've been thinking about today #spiteful musings #mob psycho 100 #mp100

[daisynik7]

Give You Blue

Chapter 6: Gravity

Set me free, leave me be, I don’t want to fall another moment into your gravity. 

Pairing: Eren x f!reader, Reiner x f!reader (past relationship)

Rating: Explicit (for mature content)

cw: switching POVs (reader is in 2nd person, Eren is in 3rd), underaged drinking, language, suggestive dialogue, kissing, angst

Word Count: ~5.0k

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Give You Blue Masterlist | ao3 | Give You Blue Taglist

Summary: You attend a party with Annie, only to run into Reiner unexpectedly. Mistakes are made and once again, Eren is to your rescue, this time more than ever before. Author’s Notes: Thank you for your patience with this! Sorry this took a while to get out. What do we think of this chapter? Juicy? Messy? Let me know! Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated, thanks so much for supporting this slow burn of a story. I promise, next chapter is (finally) spicy! Enjoy! 

You’re already dreading tonight as you walk beside Annie towards an off-campus party house. Your roommate managed to coax you into going out tonight, the first time all semester. You were reluctant at first, unsure if you’re truly in the mood for booze and mingling. Then they told you it’s a party for Armin’s birthday, which piqued your interest. That’s because you’re certain that Eren, Armin’s best bud and your special friend, is going to be there.

He came to your door in tears about two weeks ago after telling his parents about changing his major. Obviously, it didn’t end well. Since then, his father hasn’t reached out to him. His mother said that he, “Needs time to come around.” How cruel can a parent be, to discount their child’s emotions all to live out some legacy they think is worth pursuing? And for what? Money and notoriety? 

You held him in your arms that night, only letting go when Annie returned to the room, making all types of snide remarks. Eventually, the two of you retreated into his room, where you ate leftover pasta while Eren recounted exactly what happened. You stayed with him until he fell asleep on his bed, watching him from the desk as his eyelids fluttered into a peaceful slumber, one that was well-needed and deserved after the emotional night he experienced.

The fallout has him freaked out, naturally. He’s put a pause on his plans, even reconsidering the whole thing. While he knows in his heart that it’s the best option for him, he can’t escape the never-ending need to please his father. For now, he’s prioritizing his upcoming exams and projects to get himself through the semester, one day at a time. Baby steps, you tell him. Baby steps.

As the two of you approach the door, the bass of loud music already reverberating through the exterior, Annie turns the handle, entering the house. It’s already packed with other students, a few you recognize, most of whom you don’t. As you make your way through the crowd, Annie stands on her tiptoes to see if she can spot the birthday boy. “He’s in the kitchen,” she announces, leading you into the next room. 

Armin stands against the counter beside a girl with black hair, sipping on their drinks. You walk up to them, Armin exclaiming, “Annie! You made it!” He launches forward, wrapping her in a snug embrace. Her cheeks flush from the unexpected affection. 

You wave at his friend, introducing yourself. She eyes you curiously, returning your greeting. “I’m Mikasa. I recognize your name. Do you know my brother, Eren Jaeger?”

“Yes, I do. He’s my RA, actually.”

She smirks. “I see. He told me about you.”

“Me?” you ask, caught off guard.

“Yeah. Says you’re a really good friend. He’s been keeping you hidden like some sort of treasure, so it’s nice to finally meet you.”

Before you can respond, Eren’s voice rings out, “Mikasa! What are you doing?!” He’s at the other side of the room, hastily pushing his way through the party goers. When he arrives, he nudges her. “Don’t embarrass me in front of my favorite resident.”

“You’re the one who’s embarrassing yourself! We were only talking..”

He looks at you, laughing. “I hope my sister wasn’t harassing you.”

You smile at him, flustered by him calling you his favorite resident. “She’s not.”

She pokes her elbow into his ribs playfully. “See? I’m being good. Now, if you really want to know, I’ve got almost fifteen years of dirt on him.”

With a brow raised, you reply, “Oh, I’m all ears.”

“There’s no way I’m letting this happen unsupervised,” Eren teases, moving to stand next to you, his arm pressed to yours.

They share stories about their childhood, including how the two of them met Armin on the school playground, saving him from bullies. You enjoy this glimpse into Eren’s life; it makes you feel closer to him. A few times during the conversation, his hand slides over yours for emphasis as he elaborates on a tale. It sets your skin ablaze, alarming and exhilarating all at once. Annie hands you a drink that you don’t bother consuming it, too enthralled by Eren’s overwhelming presence. You almost want to pull him into a private room and keep him all to yourself. 

It switches in a flash when you hear the familiar voice and that dreadful nickname. “Coco?” Reiner stands by the fridge, staring at you with a bottle of beer in his hand. “What are you doing here?”

How reckless of you to forget that Reiner and Armin are in the same fraternity. Of course he’s here. They’re brothers. All the elation you felt up until this point sinks into the floor, along with your feet heavy on the tiles, unable to move. You despise how helpless you are around him, body shutting down or reacting in ways beyond your control. He’s got a firm grip on you without physically touching you. 

Eren clears his throat, readjusting his posture to stand straight. “It’s a party. So she’s here to party.”

Reiner glares at him. “Who are you?”

“I’m her friend.”

“I thought you were her RA.”

“Sounds like you remember me then,” Eren replies, smirking. 

There’s tightness in your chest as you hold your breath, anticipating his next move. Sensing your panic, Eren brushes his hand across yours, squeezing. This doesn’t go unnoticed. Reiner lunges forward, shouting, “Hey, hey! Don’t touch her!” He grabs you by the arm, pulling you towards him and away from Eren.

Mikasa grasps your other side, tugging you back. “Reiner, what the fuck?”

The commotion has gotten the attention of the rest of the room, hushing their own conversations to check out what’s going on. Reiner pleads, “Coco, we have to talk. Let’s go somewhere private.”

Still speechless, you try to keep your feet planted to the floor, unwilling to follow. Your knees give in as he drags you with him. Another hand holds you; it’s Eren, who’s staring at Reiner with an expression you’ve never seen before on his otherwise happy-go-lucky face. “You’re hurting her. Let her go.“

“Stay out of our fucking business,” he growls, fingers digging deep into your flesh. 

You do your best to yank yourself from his clutches. “Reiner, that hurts.”

As soon as you say it, he lets go, apologizing. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Mikasa shoves him, separating you farther. “What is your problem?”

Bertolt appears, towering over everyone, standing behind his friend. “Hey, let’s go get some air or something.”

Reiner ignores him. “Coco, please. I just want to talk,” he begs. 

Annie huddles beside you, immediately in fight mode. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Everything is moving in a blur. The only thing clear to you is Eren’s soothing voice in your ear, his lips grazing your skin. “Hey, you’re okay. It’s going to be okay.” 

And you believe it, too. You don’t want to leave his side, but as the tension continues to escalate, the only solution is out. You grab your drink and rush out of the kitchen, maneuvering past prying eyes and nosy whispers. Thankfully, the music is still playing, and by the time you’re up the stairs, locked inside a bathroom, the typical party commotion resumes.

Your phone rings in your pocket; you ignore it, switching it to silent without checking who’s calling. Inspecting your reflection in the mirror, eyes swelling with tears already, you can’t help laughing at yourself, alone in this random bathroom, crying once again over Reiner. It’s ridiculous. You’re so mad at him for ruining your night, for letting him ruin your night. All you could do was stand there, helpless. And when it became too much, you ran away instead of facing it head on. It’s so typical of you to act this way. That’s why he hasn’t left you alone yet. You’re too afraid to deal with it once and for all. Too scared of cutting that string that connects the two of you since you were five years old, the one holding together all your precious memories of a life before all this. At this rate, you’ll never move on, coiled by it until it you’re too tied up to break free. 

Sitting on the closed toilet seat, you wipe your tears, noticing the drink you carried in here with you. Without giving it a second thought, you chug it, deciding that tonight, you’re going to resort to alcohol as temporary relief. It’s sickly-sweet sliding down your throat, the liquor hardly noticeable in whatever concoction some frat boy brewed. However, it’s there, and you crave more of it, desperate for an escape.  

~~~

Eren doesn’t chase after her. And it’s not because he doesn’t want to; if it were his choice, he’d be right beside her, consoling her, holding her. Before he does, Mikasa grabs him. “Give her space. She needs space.”

He opens his mouth to protest, but doesn’t speak, knowing she’s right. The last thing he needs is to screw up their friendship by making dumb, rash decisions like this. He isn’t supposed to be involved; it’s an issue between her and her ex, something he shouldn’t get in the middle of. It’d be easy to avoid if they were just friends, if Eren didn’t have any stake in this. That’s the problem, though: Eren has fallen for her. And hard.  

It’s only now that he realizes Reiner is still being restrained by Armin and Annie, struggling to surpass the two bodies to get to him. “I just want to talk; I’m not going to hit him!”

Eren steps towards them, not intimidated, feeling bold. “You’re hurting her.” The words tumble out of his mouth easily, as if he’s been itching to let it out. 

Reiner’s eyes narrow, upset. “Excuse me?”

Eren mentions her name, repeating, “You’re hurting her.”

Annie and Armin glance nervously between the two, maintaining a firm grip on Reiner. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“If you really love her, you’d let her go.” 

“Eren,” Mikasa warns him, tugging at his sleeve. So much for not getting involved. He’s aware of the line he’s crossing, though he can’t help himself. Not when he’s picturing her, crying in the corner of a room because this asshole won’t leave her alone. Of course he’s going to try and protect her. 

Reiner glares at him. “What’s your deal?” 

Eren struggles to answer. After all, who is he in all of this? The random RA who lives down the hall? A concerned friend? Above all, he’s someone who cares for her immensely. Isn’t that enough of an excuse to intervene? 

When he doesn’t respond, Reiner continues. “You have no idea what our relationship is like. We’ve known each other since we were – “

“Five, yeah, I’ve heard the story,” Eren interrupts. “Maybe it’s time for you to grow up.” 

This elicits another aggressive response from Reiner, to which Bertolt joins in on restraining him. 

Armin, in a commanding voice, demands, “That’s enough. Calm down, okay?!”

“I’m not gonna to let him talk to me like that!” Reiner argues, reaching is arms out towards Eren, who remains nonchalant. This guy doesn’t scare him, not one bit. Reiner is a selfish coward; greedy for more, afraid to lose what he has. She’s a safety net to fall on. The back burner for when he needs warmth he can’t find anywhere else. It isn’t fair to her, being the last resort. She should be loved always, not only when it’s convenient. 

Mikasa sidles up to him, whispering, “We should go before he really explodes.”

He runs his fingers through his hair, sighing. “I’ll leave. Just…keep an eye on her for me. Make sure she’s okay.”

Annie gives him a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry, Eren. I’ll tell her to call you,” she says, using her strength to stave off Reiner, who’s red in the face.

He nods. “You don’t have to tell her anything. If she wants me, she’ll find me.”

Reiner threatens, “I don’t know what you’re trying to do with Coco, but I’m warning you. Stay away from her.”

“If you really cared about her, you’d stay away from her too.” Eren pivots on his heel to leave. Back turned, exiting the kitchen, he adds, “By the way, she hates that nickname.” He smirks to himself, listening to Reiner curse at him on his way out the door. 

~~~

With your cup empty, cheeks warm with a gradual buzz, you finally leave the bathroom to find more liquor. When you reappear in the kitchen, Reiner and Bertolt are gone, thankfully. Annie spots you, relieved. “Are you okay?”

You nod at her, giving her a timid smile. “Yeah. As long as Reiner is gone, I’m okay.”

She sighs, frustrated. “Unfortunately, he’s outside.”

Focused on the obnoxiously large Gatorade tub on the countertop, you shrug with your cup in hand. “Fine. Let’s hope I get drunk enough to pretend he isn’t here.” You dispense the reddish liquid till your cup is filled to the brim, carefully tipping it into your mouth. Annie watches, concerned and impressed, as you continue to gulp it down until it’s empty. “Whoa. Easy there, you don’t want to get too fucked up, right?”

Already tapping more into your cup, head starting to get hazy with a buzz, you respond, “Actually, that’s exactlywhat I want to do right now.” You finish it, Annie monitoring you nervously, not saying anything.

Soon, the two of you join Mikasa and Armin in the living room, which has been converted into a temporary dancefloor. You’re smooshed by bodies and engulfed in heat, the intense bass from the speakers drowning out whatever thoughts remain in your mind. This is exactly what you needed, to be lost in something, having fun without worrying about anything other than yourself. An escape. 

As luck would have it, this only lasts for a few minutes. From your peripheral, you catch Reiner making his way to you, Bertolt trailing behind. “Coco!” he shouts over the crowd. 

Annie glares at him, shielding you. “Fuck off.”

“I only want to talk. Please.” 

It’s only now that you can properly study his complexion. Dark shadows under his eyes, facial hair unkempt as if he hasn’t properly groomed it. There is some pity, seeing the boy you grew up with and loved with all your heart look like a shell of himself. More than anything, though, you’re fed up. Liquid courage surging through you, you decide that tonight, you’re going to end this exhausting game he’s playing once and for all. The long-winded back-and-forth you’ve had to endure this past semester. You won’t allow him to ruin you, destroy the both of you. Not anymore. 

“It’s okay,” you tell your friends, stepping around them towards Reiner. “I’ll deal with this.”

Annie utters your name, loose grip on your wrist, a last-ditch effort to stop you. You pass her a confident grin, patting her hand. “It’s okay. I’ll be okay.” 

Standing tall, you face him. “You want to talk? Fine, let’s talk.”

You lead the way upstairs, past the bathroom you were previously hiding in and into the nearest unoccupied bedroom, shutting the door. Once you switch the lights on, you’re suddenly extremely aware that you and Reiner are alone, enclosed in this small space for the first time since that day you said goodbye. There’s a sense of déjà vu, filling you with an uneasiness you can’t quite explain. You’re teetering on the edge, a risk of falling at any moment.

“Coco,” he starts. 

Before he can continue, you interrupt him. “Reiner, you can’t keep ambushing me like this. It’s not fair to me. I’m trying my best to move on, I can’t do that if you’re always pestering me!”

“I know, I know. But – ”

“I already told you why we can’t be friends, so stop trying.”

“Please listen to –”

“I’m finally getting used to not having you around anymore, so just leave me alone –”

“I want to get back together.”

You stare at him, stunned, slowly processing what he said. 

“Coco, I want to be with you. I want it to be us again. I was a fucking idiot for breaking up in the first place.”

Still, you’re speechless, astounded by the words coming out of his mouth. It doesn’t help that the alcohol in your system is taking its effect, head dizzy and balance wobbly. 

Reiner reaches for your hand, holding it in his. His thumb brushes across your knuckles, the way it used to all those times in the past. “I’m a fucking mess without you. I can’t sleep, I can’t think. Every day I miss you. I don’t want this anymore. I want you.”

You finally find the will to speak, voice trembling. “You can’t take back what happened.”

“Why not? This semester has been the worst without you. Why can’t we forget about what happened and go back to the way it was?”

“I don’t think I can do that.” 

His hands cup your cheeks, forehead pressed to yours. And while your mind is screaming at you to stay strong, to push him away, your body stays still, melting into his touch. “Coco, I love you. I’ll always love you. I realize that now. I’m sorry it took all of this to realize it. I’m sure of it now. Please, baby. I need you.” 

Your confidence is dwindling. You came into this room, intending to end it. Now, you find yourself wavering under his words. The words you so badly wanted to hear ever since he broke up with you. It’s your weakness: to be needed, to be wanted. It’d be easy to forget, to go back to the way it used to be. Wouldn’t it? 

It will never be the same. You can’t forget what he did, no matter how badly you want to block it out of your memory. That paranoia will always be present. He’s already broken your heart once, what makes you think he don’t do it again? How can you trust someone who so easily crushed you without a fair warning? Who toys with your fragility because of his own selfish desires? 

“Reiner, I don’t know,” you whimper, tears filling your eyes, overwhelmed with emotions. 

“We’ll figure it out together. You and me. Like old times.” The past. Carefree and in love, in your own little world, just the two of you. Sheltered from the unknown, reliant only on each other. Were you happy in this life? Or did you only convince yourself that you were?

“It’s you and me, Coco. Forever.” He inches forward, lips almost touching. You can smell the harsh aroma of alcohol on his breath, pungent and bitter. When you don’t pull away, he closes the gap, kissing you. His tongue slips inside your mouth, desperate for a taste, and you welcome it, starved for affection after being deprived of it all semester. The once familiar facial hair is foreign on your skin; it’s like he’s a completely different person now, a stranger. And maybe that’s why it makes it easier to kiss him, to imagine him as someone different than the same Reiner you once knew, the one who broke your heart. He’s different this time. He has to be. 

What if he’s not?

Suddenly, your body reacts, hands to his chest, shoving him away. “No,” you state, recoiling from him. “No, I can’t do this.”

Grip on your hips, he tugs you in again, scattering kisses along your neck. “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay, baby.”

You force him off once more, with more aggression, surprising him. “Stop, Reiner. It’s not okay. I can’t do this. I don’t want to do this. We have to move on. It’s over.”

He grasps you by the shoulders, pleading with you. “I don’t want to move on, Coco. I want us to go back to the way it was, like when we were kids.”

“That’s the problem. We’re not kids anymore! We have to grow up.” Your voice trembles, hands shaking with anguish. You’re saying it as a cruel reminder for the both of you.

“Baby, please,” he begs, surrounding you in a scorching embrace. You can’t breathe, the air too dense in his presence, suffocating you. “I need you. I need you.” He kisses you again, fingers gliding beneath your shirt and along your skin, pulling you to the bed. You succumb to it, the past flashing in your memory like a movie playing in fast forward. Your first kiss, clumsy and awkward because you were only kiddos who had no idea what you were doing. The first time you made love, crossing that line from best friends to lovers, also clumsy and awkward, but it was yours. All the moments when the two of you were in sync with each other, strolling through life glued to the hip. The breakup doesn’t erase the precious memories the two of you share; it’s shown you that maybe this relationship has run its course. Because now, it’s nothing like it used to be. You’d be fooling yourself thinking it can ever go back to the way it was. 

Before you go any further, you break apart from him, tears streaming down your cheeks as you stumble to the door, gasping for breath. “I’m sorry, Reiner. We can’t. We can’t do this.” When you open it, the cacophony of party sounds filling you with relief, as if you’ve returned to steady ground, away from whatever orbit he’s attempting to suck you into. You won’t let yourself revolve around him any longer. 

You ignore his voice calling for you as you sprint down the stairs, rushing through the crowd, not bothering to check in with Annie in the living room. You can’t face her, not now. Not after you betrayed yourself by kissing your ex. Shame envelopes you as you speed walk your way across campus, heading to your dorm. Halfway on your trek, you send Annie a quick text, explaining that you left the party and that you’re fine, although it’s not entirely truthful. As you swipe your ID at the door, your feet automatically lead you to your safe space.

~~~

Eren lays in bed, gazing up at the ceiling, contemplating. It’s been a while since he left the party, annoyed from his confrontation with Reiner, more so worried about her and how she’s doing. He can’t sleep without knowing whether she’s okay or not. 

Phone in hand, he sends Mikasa a quick message, asking for a status update. His sister’s reply has him immediately sitting up, frantic:

Mikasa: She’s talking to Reiner

He hops out of bed, pacing around his room. Talking to him? What could that mean? He attempts to call Mikasa, the suspense eating away at him. When she picks up, he can barely hear her, the background noise of the party too loud. “Mikasa, what’s going on?”

“Don’t worry,” she yells on the other end of the line. “I think she’s trying to end it. She told us she’s dealing with it.”

“I told you to keep an eye on her.”

“I’m not going to stand there in the middle of a private conversation! She’s a big girl, she can handle this.”

He sighs, frustrated. “I know, I just –”

“Eren, you can’t keep protecting her. She’s got to deal with this on her own.”

He doesn’t answer. She’s right; it’s not his battle to fight, no matter how much he wants to. 

“Oh shit,” Mikasa curses. He can hear Annie and Armin’s voice murmuring, though he can’t make out what exactly they’re saying.

“Mikasa, what’s going on?!” 

“She texted Annie a few minutes. She said she’s fine, but she left. We don’t know where she is.”

He panics, squeezing the phone between his ear and shoulder, slipping into a jacket, scrambling for his keys. “Okay, I’m going to look for her. Stay there in case she comes back.”

“Eren, I’m sure she’s going to the dorms! Don’t freak out!”

“Well, I’m going to look for her anyways! Please, Mikasa. Do this for me – ”

There’s a knock on his door. Eren sets his keys down, heart racing. “I gotta go,” he quickly mutters into the phone, hanging up. He approaches the door, unlocking and turning the handle slowly. 

“Eren?”

She stands in front of him, eyes puffy, biting her lip as if to suppress her crying. He pulls her into a hug, surrounding her in his arms. She relaxes into him, nestling her face into his chest, sniffling. “Hey, you’re okay. You’re okay,” he chants.

In between sobs, she cries, “I’m not. I fucked up, Eren. I really fucked up.”

“Hey, I’m sure it’s not that bad,” he reassures her. 

“We kissed. Reiner and I kissed.” 

Dread settles in the pit of his stomach as he listens in silence, anticipating what else she will reveal to him. 

“We were touching and we almost, I almost…But we didn’t. I stopped it.” She swallows hard, collecting herself before continuing. “I’m so ashamed of myself. I spent the past three months trying to get over him, and I tossed it all aside for one stupid kiss. I’m weak. I’m weak.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he consoles, rubbing her back. “You’re not weak.”

“I am, though. I’m so fucking desperate to be held, to be touched. Tonight exposed it. I can’t do that again. I just can’t.”

He’s not proud of what he suggests next. Maybe it’s jealousy that makes Eren propose what he’s about to. He justifies it as a friend helping out another friend. It’s a mistake. Not because he’ll hurt her; in the end, it’ll hurt him. He lets his selfish desires overtake the usual logical thinking in his brain. All he can focus on is this, right here, right now. This might be their only chance, his only chance. “How about me?”

“What?”

“Use me. I want to help you.” This is a bad idea, a very bad idea. As soon as he crosses this line, there’s no turning around. He’s all in. It’s the point of no return, and with as much risk as there is in it, there’s no question in his mind that it’s worth it. To have her like this, even for a fleeting moment, is better than not having her at all. 

“Eren,” she whispers, peering up at him.

“Rely on me,” he says with a small smile, caressing her cheeks, wiping away her tears. 

“Eren,” she repeats, closing her eyes. “I don’t want this to change anything between us. I’m scared I’m going to mess this up again.”

He leans down, pressing his forehead to hers. “I’m always going to care about you, no matter what. I promise. Don’t worry about me.”

They need this, a temporary escape. Him and her, no one else. Cherishing one another, loving each other the way they deserve. It doesn’t matter what the past is or what the future holds. He wants to be lost in this moment with her. She opens her eyes, gazing at him. He bows down, lips close to hers, pausing to wait for her. She kisses him softly, electrifying every nerve in his body. 

it’s over too soon; she pulls away, distancing herself. “Eren, I can’t do this to you. I’m all fucked up in the head right now and still a little drunk. You don’t deserve this. I’m so sorry.” Without another glance, she leaves, her hasty footsteps pattering down the hall, Eren listening until he hears her shut the door to her bedroom. 

He traces his mouth with his fingers, her essence lingering on his lips. He stands in place for a few more minutes, waiting and hoping for her return. When it doesn’t come, he goes to bed, staring up at the ceiling, unable to sleep. 

~~~

You fucked it all up, with Reiner, with Eren. As always, you ran away, unable to stand up for yourself, to face the truth. 

With Reiner, you crumbled, allowing him to enrapture you with empty promises and longing for the past. He almost convinced you that everything can go back to normal, which you know it can’t. And with Eren, you pushed him away, too scared to repeat the same mistakes despite your heart yearning for him more and more each day. 

His offer to you sticks in your mind as you lay in bed, focused on the ceiling, intoxication completely worn off after a hot shower and much-needed hydration. Rely on me. Use me. It wasn’t fair to take advantage of him while you were in such a fragile state, drunk and in tears after your confrontation with Reiner. Hours later, with a clearer head, you can’t stop thinking about him. I’m always going to care about you, no matter what. It’s the only promise of the night that you actual believe. 

You check your phone for the time: 4:17 AM. Glancing to your side, Annie sleeps peacefully in her bed, having arrived a few hours earlier. You explained to her vaguely what happened, leaving out the details about both kisses, not ready to deal with her blunt reactions. As quietly as you can, you slide into your slippers, sneaking out of the room. Halfway down the hall, you second-guess yourself, almost turning on your heel to go back. However,  Eren’s soothing voice replaying in your head entices you. One moment of unadulterated bliss together wouldn’t be so bad, right? 

Before you change your mind, you knock quietly on his door, nervous and excited. It doesn’t take long for him to answer. He stands before you, wide awake, a comforting smile upon seeing you. And while this whole night was a blurry, fucked up mess, this is the most certain you’ve been. Even if it is for a short while, a temporary escape from the unkind realities the both of you have to eventually face, it’s clear as day: You want to be with him, and he wants to be with you. 

“So,” you say, stepping towards him. “Does your offer still stand?”

His smile widens, reaching his arm past you to shut the door. “Absolutely.” 

Taglist:

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[love-toxin]

OH GOD...

I saw your porn star Steve drabble, and I...

The fruity four taking your virginity, but all of them are pornstars and they're all yandere for you.

CAN YOU IMAGINE????

HEH.....HEH.......HEHEH!!!!

(cws: fruity four, modern/pornstar au, f!angelface, only the slightest inkling of possessiveness, camming, mentions of anal/pegging/dark sexual fantasies/squirting/femdom/sex toys/masturbation/virginity loss)

So. As we've established: Anal King Steve. But as for the others, they range with varying degrees of notoriety and popularity, but they're all pretty well-known nonetheless because they all associate with Steve, who is by far the most recognized.

Obviously, most of Steve's work is anal-based, although he didn't necessarily start out that way. He mostly just made use of a spicy twitter account to post his nudes and a couple videos, and before long he got contacted by an agency for some newbie scenes and ended up getting super popular. He mostly started out with just the generic stuff, but with peppering his self-directed movies with his preferred kink, his career really took off and he became very well-known in the anal category. Plenty of videos with titles like "(Insert porn actress) gets her ass stretched for the first time by King Steve", where the content is usually sweet and only on the cusp of being rough. But he's delved into the genre of painal plenty of times before, and while he's a gentle giant most of the time, he's deliriously sexy when he's being mean and holding down his chosen costar to pummel their poor ass into submitting to him.

Nancy's an acquired taste. Her femdom videos can either be sweet and very darling with all her cute clothes and girl-next-door appearance, or they can be brutal and she can exercise the full extent of her dommy mommy persona. But she's actually in one of the top earners for her category because of how big her singular donations can get--in a private camshow, she can earn up to thousands of dollars just by offering the pleasure of degrading whoever it is that's paid for her precious time. Pegging is one of her popular categories too, with both men and women happily submitting to Mistress as she turns their subby little brains into mush. Despite coming off as a top, she likes bottoming and being a little more relaxed and submissive too, she just usually keeps that for home sex so she can keep up her image online.

Robin's a very popular sub online, she has people flooding her comments with sweet, needy compliments and envy at the girls she does movies with. She cams a lot despite coming off as awkward and shy oftentimes, and it makes her some serious money especially when she does request streams, where she's completely at the mercy of her viewers. She's had to replace her donation-controlled vibrator several times now, since it's such a popular event on her livestreams that people will pool their donations on repeat just so Robin ends up cumming uncontrollably when it doesn't stop, terrorizing her poor, sensitive clit on the highest setting for all her viewers to enioy. She does a lot of squirting videos ever since she learned how to make herself do it, although she's also a fan of tribbing and facesitting too, especially when she's the one getting absolutely ruined by a pretty girl on top of her.

Eddie's pretty popular as a non-traditional pornstar. He started out doing more hardcore stuff, uncommon kinks and other stuff that tickles the fancy of those who like darker fantasies, and he stars less in actual productions and mostly relies on twitter and his OF. He does everything from knifeplay, handcuffs, and cnc to choking and heavy bondage, slasher cosplays and blood kinks and waxplay and hard domination--and then, here and there, he'll surprise his viewers with a very intimate and affectionate video with lots of kissing, hair stroking, and praise whispered into his partner's ear. He's got range. Lots of thirst traps and desperate people in his DMs, despite being so accessible he's got that aura of being some cool, unattainable man with a dick thick enough to break you. But he's such a senseless dork in real life, it's honestly such a shocking shift in personality for anyone that might only know him online.

And when the four of them individually announced their "group collaboration" with the other three, all four fanbases went wild. Four incredibly hot pornstars moving into one house together, with all the opportunity for collaborative videos one could ask for? It's a dream come true for any fan of theirs, save some of the obsessive weirdos and creeps. However, the fifth room in their new house poses a bit of a problem--it's a waste to leave it empty, but they don't have anything to really fill it, so Steve decides to post an ad for a roommate but avoids any association with his or the other's profession. Don't want some stalker or psycho moving in just to try and take advantage of any of them, so Steve just puts up the ad in a Hawkins-based forum and waits to get a response.

When you show up on their doorstep, though, fuck. He didn't think you'd be this cute in person, even though you had sent a picture to identify yourself along with some of your ID to sign for the lease. Being from out of town you'd been desperate to find a place to stay on your low budget, and you didn't mind living in a co-ed with multiple people, so you fit the main two standards. As for everything else, you seem eager to keep things clean and you offer to help out with whatever chores that need doing, as long as they're within your capability, so you're perfect in that sense. It's obviously a little awkward when Steve has to warn you about their careers, though, so you have time to back out before you sign the papers--he tries to make it as clear as possible that they're not working a prostitution ring or anything, and that they in no way expect you to participate, and that they have a schedule for filming and will run changes by you well in advance so you can avoid certain rooms or be out of the house to do something else. But you seem fine with it, and you aren't even really familiar with their accounts which is kind of a relief, so it really turns out well when you move in and start living amongst your very attractive roommates.

It's nice for a while. They're all kind to you, and you get to know each other pretty quick, but there's tension in the air. Nancy can tell you're inexperienced by the way you seem so flustered around the boys when they wander by in their underwear, and how you react to the simplest gestures of kindness or flirtation like it's the most flattered you've ever been. When Robin compliments your style and tells you how gorgeous you look before you leave the house, you look so shocked and utter a "really?" that's so sweet she makes it a point to compliment you way more often. But Eddie's the one that extracts the truth out of you, that you're a virgin, after a few drinks you two share following a late night out at the movies. He doesn't kiss you that night, but that's when he realizes he wants to.

A little while after that, after Eddie swears to shut his mouth but you feel comfortable enough to mention it in passing to the others, you decide to sate your curiosity and do a little research on your roommates and they're happy to give you a tour. They ease you in slow with Robin's account on phub, show you some of her teaser videos on twitter and her camsite, and they make it fun--they do it in the style of a movie night, getting snacks and cracking jokes as they screenshare Steve's phone to the tv as you pore over each of their portfolios. Gradually, you make your way down the list to their collaborations and the harder stuff, the mean and degrading clips that have your tummy buzzing as you sit between them on the sofa. They finally get to their group account, filled with all the stuff they've filmed in the house--some of it you've heard through the wall and touched yourself to--and you get to see them teasing each other in real life while they moan and sweat onscreen.

You get to watch Robin ride Nancy's face while she tugs on her hair, hips jumping and belly concaved as she gasps and whimpers out the sweetest dirty talk you've ever heard. They scroll over a link to phub titled "King Steve punishes Eddie the Banished with rough barebacking" with a thumbnail showing off Eddie's fucked-out face as Steve has his foot on the back of his head, eyeliner smudged and tearstreaked while his partner's cock is almost completely buried in his ass. Nancy insists on showing you a video they've filmed of her pegging Steve on his bare mattress, clearly taken just as they were moving in--that certainly hadn't stopped her from plowing him into it though, his arms wrapped tight around her as he clings to her chest and moans out pleas for her not to stop. And all the while she's teasing him, suggesting that maybe she should have the title of "anal king" after this.

You're so wet an hour into this showing that it's ridiculous. You're squirming so bad in your seat that you're practically begging one of them to touch you, no matter how quiet you are as Steve asks if you're cool and you nod a yes.

"Sorry, honey. Too much?" Eddie queries, stretching his arm out a little further from where it's draped over the couch, just barely touching your shoulders but not enough. He smiles to reassure you, about to suggest that maybe you all can switch from the porn to watching a movie instead--but then you blurt it all out, and the feelings that have been building up for months are suddenly all hanging out in the open.

"Would you take my virginity?"

They're struck silent, looking back at you with wide eyes that render you mute in seconds--you know that was such a mistake, it was too far, and you pray to god that Steve doesn't just throw you out. But you also fear the awkwardness of living out the rest of your lease with your roommate-turned-friends thinking you're a weirdo, and in some way it might be better if you just got kicked out.

Then they start exchanging looks. They start grinning. And when they finally deign to acknowledge you, the precious little virgin squished up between Eddie and Nancy on the couch they've fucked on a hundred times, you feel like you're the bunny facing the jaws of wolves upon wandering into their den. Steve reaches over Nancy's lap to rub your knee through your jeans, and his eyes flutter to a half-lidded expression of desire, before he speaks up in place of all his other romantic partners.

"We can do whatever you want, baby. Just no cameras this time--I want you all to us for this."

#fruity four #fruity four x reader #steve harrington #nancy wheeler #eddie munson #robin buckley #steve harrington x reader #nancy wheeler x reader #eddie munson x reader #robin buckley x reader #spicy writing #spicy accountant au #st 4 #stranger things #ellie writes #anons

[glamaphonic]

there needs to be more fic that plays with how ed is a stone cold genius and good at everything and that's part of why he's so fucking bored.

his response to stede saying he could open a restaurant says it all.

"probably could. maybe i will. i can do anything."

and he can!!!

when stede's like OH COME ON at ed demurring and then suddenly playing the piano! bcs oh ofc he can also play piano! (he has a harpsichord AND a lute AND an accordion in his room on the queen anne! consider: ed lowkey a musical prodigy)

when izzy gets frustrated in the art of fuckery and exclaims that ed just knows everything about everything in the whole fucking world! he thinks ed's a know-it-all because ed's so damn effortlessly good at everything! (his smug look at izzy when he's about to explain the fog and whatnot in 1x04!)

he asks stede how to "win this interaction" at the french party because that's what ed does. all he does is WIN WIN WIN. and that in turn is part of why it's so devastating to him when he's mocked. not just the trauma he's carrying around about class and self-worth, but also because it's probably the first time ed has failed at anything in a very long time!

a lot of au fic especially focuses in hard on the fact that ed admires and longs for stede's ability to express himself through things like fashion and to luxuriate and pamper himself and has felt barred from this by class distinctions and performing a particular kind of masculinity. but in the course of it, they entirely lose that ed is legendarily famous, wildly successful, and extremely rich!

while stede obviously holds various structural privileges over ed, in the immediate world that they inhabit ed is the one with the power and the clout and his interest in stede is what's considered a weird foible, ed taking a pet, etc.

stede has own way of doing things and money. ed has notoriety, skill, respect AND his own way of doing things and money.

he's bored and depressed BECAUSE he has it all and has done it all. if you strip that away then the entire point of his character flies right by.

#ofmd #edward teach #is hypercompetent #he is bored because everything's so fucking easy for him

[sebsbarnes]

a ghost || tangerine

tangerine x reader

summary: "are you happy?" the question felt like a burning knife slowly carving your heart out.

or ex lovers see each other for the first time

warnings: none! (i wrote this in 10 mins sorry if its bad)

word count: 700+ ; angst

tangerine masterlist

you should have known that eventually you would run into tangerine. you both resided in the same town since it happened, but it's been a year since you were this physically close to him. there had been times while driving you could've sworn you saw him in the distance but to appease yourself you chalked it up to your imagination. but right now, this was reality, and there was no denying it.

"tangerine," you exhaled heavily as the man walked towards you.

"hey darl- hey," he stopped himself from using the term of endearment.

anyone nearby in the park would've never guessed that you two were once deeply in love based on the blaringly obvious awkward tension clouding the air around you.

"how have you been?" you asked rubbing your arm to self soothe.

he scratched the side of his head letting out an awkward chuckle, "erm, yeah i've been alright. lemon's good, yeah, he's doing well."

"oh, that's good, good," you could feel your skin crawling as you stood there in silence, occasionally glancing away from each other.

tangerine pointed a thumb to a picnic table, "would you like to sit?"

you hummed, nodding your head and following him. while your seated across from him, you noticed tangerine's face was slightly thinner, his facial hair slightly grown out with a beard. he must've been on a job recently based on the marks scattered across his bare arms. but nonetheless he looked good, he always did.

"are you happy?" the question felt like a burning knife slowly carving your heart out. the air in your lungs vanished quickly and it felt as though your lungs were collapsing to dust. your stomach suddenly felt extremely sick and if it weren't for the lack of feeling in every nerve ending in your body you may have tried to stand up and release whatever might have been creeping up your throat from your stomach.

you have been asking yourself the same question for the last year. everyone else has been asking you the same question for the last year. but this was the first time hearing the words leave his lips and it stung, it burned. it felt like the time you and tangerine stayed at the beach too long and your shoulder's burned in pain for two weeks. it felt like the time you seared your hand on the hot plate while cooking for tangerine's birthday. you so badly wanted to escape this situation but there was nowhere to run and truth be told the only person you would want to run to is across from you.

"happy is a subjective word," you finally put syllables together to speak, despite it feeling like your vocal cords were shredding.

"love," he broke, "please i need to know."

"tan, you were the best thing to ever happen to me," you spoke truthfully, "the only times i was truly at my happiest was when we were together. i've- i've been managing since."

his eyes were glazed over and he was chewing on his lip, something he did when he was anxious.

"i'm so sorry for not putting you first in those last months," he confessed. the last three months of your relationship was rocky. tangerine had gained notoriety after the bolivia job and was being whisked away almost every day on a new job. he got cocky, more than he already is, and only cared about the high-profile jobs he was getting and the money that came with. slowly, you became a second thought to him.

"i know you're sorry," and you did, you knew he regretted his actions. but he couldn't turn back time.

"i think about you every day," he whispered, quickly ghosting his fingers over your hand.

before you could answer, before you could confess everything you needed and wanted to, you felt a hand on your shoulder. your eyes sealed shut, lips quivering harshly, a single tear rolling down your cheek. the voice of your new partner was behind you. that's why you were at the park today, to meet them for a date.

you knew that when you open your eyes tangerine would be gone. a ghost of your past that was no more.

#tangerine #tangerine bullet train #tangerine x reader #tangerine x y/n #tangerine x oc #tangerine x you #tangerine imagine #tangerine imagines #tangerine bullet train imagine #tangerine fic #tangerine fanfic #tangerine fanfiction #tangerine bullet train fanfic #tangerine fluff #tangerine angst #tangerine blurb #tangerine headcannon #tangerine oneshot #bullet train imagine #bullet train fanfic #bullet train oneshot #bullet train x reader #bullet train #aaron taylor johnson imagine #aaron taylor johnson x reader #sebsbarnes

[ghoststyles]

Fairway to Heaven - Part 1

Hi!! I’m so excited to post my first-ever Harry fic! I’ve been on 1D Tumblr since the very beginning, logged off for 5 years and now I’m back 💀 So I’ve had a lot of ideas over the years that have just lived in my head. GOLFRRY + MUSTACHRRY are my weaknesses, so this is my twist on a golf/bev cart girl + agegap fic 🤩

I’d love to hear your thoughts. I have most of the story written, so I should be able to have a consistent posting schedule. Not sure the total # of parts quite yet. I’m also happy to write additional blurbs if y’all like Harry and Briar as much as I do 🥹🐥🦊 

Here is a mood board I put together. Feel free to picture Briar however you please. The mood board is just to set the vibez!

Without further ado...Enjoy!

~

Word count: 4.5K

Contains mature themes. Read at your own discretion. Agegaps, cursing.

Read Part 2 | Read Part 3 | Read Part 4

~

By the time she gets to her designated cart, she’s already fifteen minutes late; but her iced coffee is the perfect color, and her hair didn’t give her too much trouble this morning. She smiles to herself, a win is a win.

Briar Barlowe quickly dumps a bucket of ice in her cart’s side cooler as the bar back begins filling the bin with the usual suspects: Bud Light, Michelob Ultra, Fireball, Tito’s, Casamigos, Ginger ale, and, of course, grape juice. She makes sure to keep her lavender cups stocked and plenty of fun straws to make everything more fun. She even decorates her tip jars to say funny jokes.

Since starting at Wynnewood Country Club, Briar has gained a bit of notoriety among the players as the girl with a bright smile and a heavy pour. This job is exactly what she needs to fill the gap between graduating college and beginning her business degree in the fall. Good money, stress-free responsibilities, and time spent in the sunshine.

Her Uncle, Patrick Barlowe, is the golf pro at Wynnewood; a local legend who was just shy of making the PGA Tour himself. He spends his days teaching lessons, running the pro shop and serving on the Board of Directors for the club. If you’re in with Patrick, you’re in with everyone.

When he heard her worries of not finding a summer job after graduation, it was a no brainer to offer her a position as a beverage cart girl. They both gaze out over the course from a table under the gazebo on the top deck of club’s restaurant.

“That job sounds a little sexist, Uncle Patrick,” Briar sneers. All she can picture is driving around in a little dress and a visor like Malibu Barbie, answering the male members’ every beck and call.

The club is gorgeous; first built in 1914, and the architecture reflects it. It has two golf courses, 4 tennis courts, a pool, and deluxe spa. The member fees skyrocket each year, upping the amenities and overall snootiness of the members.

“The money is good and the members are pretty harmless. From the way you’ve swindled me into throwing teddy bear tea parties, I think you’ll do just fine on the sales aspect.”

“Fine. When do I start?”

Patrick leans back in his seat, “I’ll call Dominic in the morning.”

With that, they finish their drinks and appetizers just as the sun sets.

Walking out to her car, she sees a black Range Rover pull under the carport. The boys at the valet stand are already bickering over who gets to drive this one.

Based on the surrounding town, the level of pretentiousness at the club never surprises Briar. The yearly member fee for the club can cover 2 years’ worth of her business school tuition alone. She shakes her head and jumps into her hand-me down Jeep to head back to her apartment, paying no mind to the man entering the front door of the club.

~

Her shift this morning started out in the frigid cold, forcing her to change outfits later in the day as the sun came out. She’s sporting her black athletic skort and a racerback tank top. She opts to leave her hair down and sport her black and white Nike trailblazers to keep the look casual.

With a few weeks’ worth of shifts under her belt, she’s learned the ways of the club and fallen into a good rhythm. On any given weekend day, she has to head to the clubhouse to restock twice before 12PM. Today is not one of those days.

As temperature warms up, the course begins to fill up. In the last hour of her shift, she’s left with only a few beers and a few shots worth of Tito’s. Her tip jar is a little emptier than usual, but the pun on her sign got a few chuckles. She sets up shop on the 17th hole and snaps a few photos of the sunset.

“I shot one under today. One under a tree, one under a bush, and one under the water.”

Briar jumps at the voice behind her. Is that an Irish accent? She leans to peer over the side of her cart. She sees a man, older than her, donning a light blue polo with dark blue pants and a white hat, reading the joke on her jar.

“Clever, isn’t it?” She smiles kindly at him.

“Hilarious. It’s like ya been watching my game today,” he laughs. He moves closer to where she’s standing.

“Can I get you anything? I’ll be honest, I’m mostly wiped out.”

He peers down at the contents of the cooler. “I’ll take that last Mich Ultra. Do you have any Casamigos left? My mate is a little picky.”

“No Casamigos,” she says with a slight frown. “I’ll try to keep my drinking to a minimum next time and save you some.”

He lets out a loud laugh and squeezes his eyes shut. “Alright, just this then. He’ll have to deal with it.”

“I can offer you some Peanut M&M’s for your troubles,” she says, pulling out her iPad to ring in the order. “Do you have an account with the club, or do you want to pay cash?”

“The account is under Niall Horan,” he says, putting a $20 bill in the jar. “Thanks for the M&M’s, darlin’.”

“I’m Briar. It was nice meeting you, Niall. Thank you!” She beams. He smiles and starts heading back to the path toward the clubhouse.

~

After cleaning her cart and counting her money, Briar finishes the day drinking a mojito at the bar, while Cam, her new friend at the club, is working her bar shift.

“How was it out there today, babe?” Cam asks.

“Slow at first, but it definitely picked up. I couldn’t even head back for a restock. Luckily, the members I got at the very end weren’t picky.”

“Oh! Did you see Niall?” she asks as she puts glassware in the dishwasher.

“Yeah,” Briar furrows her brows. “How did you know?”

“I used to serve him on the front course all the time. Now that I’m too old and wretched to work out on the course, he’ll visit me in here sometimes. He mentioned playing the back course with a friend today.”

Briar is always assigned to the back course. There are only minor differences in difficulty, but she finds the back course to be a little more calm and serious. They’re also a little more generous with their tips. She’s not sure if her assignment has something to do with her uncle’s knowledge of the club’s inner workings.

“He is really nice, and generous. I didn’t get to meet the friend, though. Did you?”

“Yes, he was a little more reserved. But Niall is a riot, so he makes anyone look calm. I didn’t catch his name.”

Briar hums and stirs her mojito around as she stifles a yawn. “Well, I’ve been here since 7:30 this morning, so I am ready to goooo,” she drags out her last word. She waves bye to Cam and begins the trek to the employee parking lot.

As she’s walking, she gazes up to the upper deck of the restaurant where she can just barely make out Niall standing by the railing. He’s talking animatedly and waving his beer bottle around.

A bit off to the right, peering down at her, is a tall, striking man with dark features wearing a white button down and a sport coat. The top two buttons are undone just enough to see his collarbones.

The club has a strict dress code for the restaurant. Briar often does a double take when she sees members out of their golf clothes. She wonders if he’s even allowed to show that much skin.

Shrugging it off, she continues toward her car, but not without looking back at the man. He’s still looking at her, curiously, taking a sip of his drink and turning away not long after she looks up.

She can’t help but get this strange feeling, almost as if the hairs on the back of her neck are standing straight up.

~

As the summer starts to heat up, so do her shifts at the course. By the end of them, Briar’s hair is sticking out sideways and her make up is smeared down her face. She bought a miniature fan that clips right to the visor of her cart to keep her cool throughout the day.

It’s just past 8:30 in the morning on Tuesday when she hears a familiar voice on the 8th hole. She squints and sees Niall, along with the dark haired man from the other night. There are a few guys she doesn’t recognize standing with them.

She maneuvers her cart through the winding path, closer to where the men are.

“There’s the beer angel!” Niall shouts. She smiles and shakes her head. He comes jogging over. “I hope you’re fully stocked this morning.”

“Yep, I am! I even have a few breakfast sandwiches, if you’re interested.”

His eyes light up as she pulls out a bacon, egg and cheese on an everything bagel from the warming drawer. Chef Lambo, the executive chef of the club, made them especially for Briar’s customers.

“Yesss. I’ll take one of those, a Mich Ultra, two Transfusions, and — H! What do you want?” He yells, partially turning to face his friend in the distance.

She faintly hears, “Casamigos!”

“And a Casamigos on the rocks, with a lime,” he finishes. It takes her only a few minutes to make the cocktails.

“Do you want these on your account?” Briar asks Niall.

He takes a huge bite of the bagel and mumbles, “No, you can put it all on my mate’s. Last name is Styles.”

Styles, or, “H” as Niall called him. The mystery man’s Last name is Styles. And, he’s a member here.

“Got it. Well, good luck today.”

“Thanks, we’ll need it. We’re trying to close a work deal with the two guys we’re playing with. Hey, don’t be afraid to swing by us multiple times. We can use all the schmoozing we can get,” he smiles.

“I think I can do that. Let me know if you need help, I’m told I’m very persuasive,” she smiles as she takes the emergency brake off of her cart. He throws another $20 in her jar and then waves, nearly dropping all of the items in his hands.

Niall returns to his group, handing out their drinks. Briar continues to watch before pulling away. H steps out from behind Niall, slightly lifting his cup — his lavender cup — towards her, as a thank you. His facial expression is stoic, watching her carefully.

She smiles to herself and drives off. The rest of the shift goes by in a blur. She swings by Niall and H’s group a few times. Each time, Niall greets her to grab more drinks and snacks.

Is that on purpose? If the drinks are on H’s account, why isn’t he coming over? She’d like to get a closer look at him. She chews on the inside of her lip and continues on with her closing duties. She loves the morning shift; in early, out early.

~

After parking her cart in the garage, she can see her uncle in the pro shop, glasses on the tip of his nose, peering down at something. She lightly knocks on the door and pushes it open.

“Hey, Briar bear,” he says, looking up at her. “How was your day?”

Briar sighs at her childhood nickname, plopping down on the couch by the practice putting green. Members can test out clubs before purchasing them in the pro shop, making it an optimal spot to hang out and mess around with all of the clubs.

“It was good, I just have to get used to waking up this early again. And I already know you’re going to say, ‘welcome to the real world, kid’, so just stop there,” she says sassily.

Patrick chuckles and focuses back on with his paperwork. They’re quiet for a few moments.

“What’re working on, anyway?” she asks, craning her neck to see what he’s doing.

“Just some budget sheets, and making a list of members who haven’t had a lesson from their amazing in-house golf pro,” he says, punching numbers into his phone calculator.

“They get a free lesson from you?”

“Yes, when they join. But now, to keep up member retention, we’re going to offer sessions to members who have been here for 5 years or more,” he scratches his temple. “Most of ‘em don’t need it, but I feel they always leave with a new drill to practice and some sage advice from yours truly.”

“That’s cool,” she replies absently.

“Wanna help?” Patrick asks her. She nods silently and takes a seat beside him. She sees a list of last names, first initial and  an “X” next to their name if they’ve taken a lesson.

She notices an X next to “Horan, N.” but not “Styles, H”. Interesting.

Briar continues to audit the two lists, until she hears her uncle clear his throat.

“Hey, are you going to hang here for a bit? I need to run back into the main clubhouse for a few minutes.”

Patrick runs the pro shop solo during the day, until a high school or college kid can come in in the afternoon.

“Yeah, I’ll hang here. What do I do if someone needs something?”

“Then you can entertain them with your dazzling personality until I get back,” he teases, sticking his tongue out. “Alright, I’ll be back.”

“‘kay,” she says, walking back to her original spot on the sofa, laying her head back on the edge.

Her eyes are shut, only for a minute, until a brilliant idea pops in her head. She rises off the sofa and saunters over to the computer her uncle was just working on.

The employee portal is logged in under Patrick’s account. Briar doesn’t know much about it, aside from using it to clock in and clock out. It’s still on the member screen, an area she’s 100% sure she doesn’t have access to.

She peruses the site until she finds a “Member Look-Up” tab. Briar’s intrusive thoughts win.

She slowly punches in S-T-Y-L-E-S and waits for the results to populate. 2 results found.

She clicks on the first profile. An account pulls up for a Paul Styles, and a photo of a white-haired man pops up.

Well, that’s certainly not him, Briar thinks to herself. She exits out and clicks on the next account. No profile photo opens, but the name is at the top. She bites her thumbnail in anticipation of what she’ll see.

Harry Styles. H. Niall’s mysterious friend. The tequila lover.

She starts to scroll down the page. The profile is more bare than the other man’s, but she can see the basic things about him. He’s 41, joined the club 8 years ago. He lives in another pretentious town only a few miles away.

Then, she sees a “Member Activity” tab. Out of curiosity, she clicks on it. Her eyes widen, seeing every transaction he’s ever made on his account. His “dues” each year. Holy shit.

His purchases seem pretty standard for members of Wynnewood. Mostly rounds of Casamigos on the rocks (shocking) and dinners ranging from $100-$400, with a few bills over $1,000.

He joined 8 years ago, but his transactions have only begun to pick up in the last month or so. Before, his visits were sporadic at best.

Briar can’t even fathom having that sort of money to throw away. She started working at age 14 and never stopped. The only reason she gets a taste of country club life is because of her uncle.

She closes out the portal, not wanting to risk Patrick walking in while she’s snooping around. She returns to her spot on the sofa and begins playing 1010! on her phone.

She exhales and tosses her phone to the side. As she sits up, Patrick reenters the pro shop.

“Thanks, Bri. Heading home soon?”

“Yeah, I gotta get back home for Gus,” she smiles, thinking about her dog. Her baby.

“Alright, I’ll catch you later. Say hello to my buddy for me. And give him a butt scratch — Tell him it’s from Uncle Patty.”

“Will do. See ya.”

~

When she’s showered and comfy at home, with Gus, her Bernese Mountain Dog, snuggled at her side, she finally feels relaxed. 

She’s worked nearly every day since she started. But, those are the sacrifices of a summer job.

She turns on Selling Sunset on Netflix to drown out the silence of her apartment. Already bored of this season, she pulls out her phone.

One last round of stalking, then she’ll let it go. She opens Instagram and begins typing in Harry’s name in the search bar. Nothing. Hm.

She tries Niall, immediately getting a hit. She clicks on his account to find it public, full of funny and happy photos. He’s clearly from Ireland, but has lived in the United States for some time. She wonders if he went to school here, or if he just got a job here.

She scrolls down to a group photo — on the golf course, of course — of Niall, Harry, and a few other guys. They look a lot younger here. She can see the photo is from 7 years ago. Harry’s stoic face is a stark contrast to Niall’s infectious smile. She clicks on the photo to see if Harry’s profile is tagged. Nothing.

Defeated, she moves onto LinkedIn. She tries Harry’s name again. Within 10 seconds of the search engine results popping up on the screen, her eyes land on exactly what she’s looking for. He has a profile. Her heart starts beating a little faster.

Really, Briar? All this for a guy you’ve barely caught a glimpse of? She clicks on the profile and sees the most gorgeous man at the top. He looked good from afar, but this is totally different.

Sticking out to her is his chiseled jaw, pouty lips, and beautiful (green?) eyes. His hair is longer in this photo than what she’s seen him with the past 2 times at the club, but she figures this page is old.

She scrolls down to the employment history. He works for a hedge fund. No wonder he has that kind of cash laying around. He’s been at the same company for a number of years, and received his bachelor’s degree from Georgetown and his MBA from the University of Pennsylvania. Smart dude. 

She notes his MBA graduation year is 2006. She laughs, knowing she was probably still playing on a playground that year. 

She exits out of the page, proud of her findings. She decides to text Cam about Niall’s friend.

B: Hey! So I totally stalked Niall online. His friend’s name is Harry! 😆

C: So funny, how’d u do it? 😂

B: Instagram for Niall, and earlier, I used Wynnewood’s portal to look up Harry. I just went on his LinkedIn, too. Now, I know all about his work and schooling, lol.

C: Your account is private, right? 😳

C: It notifies people if you’ve looked at their profile unless you’re private…

B: What?! I didn’t know that…WTF do I do?

Briar’s stomach drops. He’s probably already gotten the notification by now. She’s mortified. She logs back on to LinkedIn and deactivates her account. Reddit says those are her best chances of counteracting the notification.

She decides to go to bed, but ends up tossing and turning until 3 AM, knowing her alarm is set for 6:30. She stares at the ceiling, pleading for Harry not to show up at the club tomorrow.

~

The morning comes around, and after mustering enough courage to get up and make herself presentable, she rolls into work, ready to jump on her cart and be lazy. The universe (or Uncle Patrick, probably!) has a different plan.

Since it’s a holiday weekend, Briar is working inside for a change. She feels a little out of her element. She’s worked in restaurants in the past, but it’s always a little stressful when you have know idea where anything is, or how to use the register.

Taking a moment to survey the large banquet room, she doesn’t see Niall or Harry. She begins to relax. Until, 30 minutes later, she sees both of them enter and begin talking to the hostess.

Please don’t go to my section, she thinks. She watches the girl gathers 4 menus and turns to lead the men further into the room. Briar’s worry grows more with each step the hostess takes toward her section. Fuck.

She seats them down at a 4 person table right in the middle of Briar’s section, assuming the two men from yesterday will be joining them.

She takes a few deep breaths before grabbing a water jug and two stemmed water glasses. She casually approaches the table, lightly placing the water glasses down and filling them.

Niall looks up briefly with a smile before exclaiming, “There she is! I requested you to be our server after I saw you at the coffee machine over there.”

Briar smiles before turning her attention to Harry, who hasn’t glanced up from his menu. She looks back at Niall.

“Awesome! This is going to be great,” she lies through her teeth.

While this exchange is happening, she can feel Cam’s eyes burning through the back of her head. Cam is the service bartender of the day, so she has time to people watch and laugh at Briar’s bad luck.

“Are we waiting for any more guests to join us?” Briar asks.

Niall clears his throat and says, “Yes, those two blokes from yesterday. Harry here is going to close the deal with them today.”

Harry glances up at her with a shy smile. She reciprocates, unsure if he’s aware of her cyberstalking from last night.

“Wow, well, I’ll make sure my service is extra good, then. Can I throw in some drinks while you wait?”

“I’ll have an Old Fashioned. Harry?” Niall turns to his friend.

“Casamigos on the rocks for me, please. With a lime. Thank you.���

“You got it,” she says with a tight-lipped smile. Of course that’s the very first thing he ever says to her. And he’s BRITISH?

Cam laughs as the ticket prints at the bar.

“Oh, shut up,” Briar grumbles.

~

The other men finally arrive, and the meal goes by at a snail’s pace. When the group is finally ready to order, Briar is already mentally checked out. Briar goes to take Harry’s order.

“What can I get for you?”

“I’ll have the chicken, please,” he says simply.

“And how would you like that cooked?” Briar asks, furiously scribbling on her note pad.

Harry’s face contorts to a perplexed look, almost as if he was about to laugh.

“Um…cooked…all the way through?” He stifles a chuckle.

Niall bursts out laughing, cluing Briar in. She realizes the others ordered porterhouse steaks, so, out of habit, she asked how they’d like them prepared.

Her eyes go wide, “Right, well, I’ll go put these in. Thanks!” She shuffles away at lightning speed.

Harry stares at her from across the room, smirking when they make eye contact. She wants to bury her head in the sand trap on the golf course.

When the meal is done, the men shake hands, and Niall and Harry look relieved. They ask for another round of drinks for the two of them and the check. Niall heads toward the restroom while Harry pays. She tries to bolt as soon as the check is dropped, but she hears Harry clear his throat.

She turns to face him.

“We’re about to go play a quick round of 9-holes to celebrate. Are you our beer angel today, or are you stuck in here?” Harry says, as he opens his wallet.

Briar feels her heart begin to race. She’s sure her face is beet red. The word angel rolls off his tongue so easily.

“Um, no, I’m um, stuck in here for the rest of the day. I’ll be back on Sunday, though,” she says quietly.

“Shame, I was starting to think you were bringing me all of my luck. I’ve been crushing these guys in our last few rounds,” he smiles, swirling the remnants of his drink around.

She bites the inside of her lip, unsure if she should still be holding eye contact. He hands her the checkbook, full of cash. She smiles, unable to speak.

“Oh, and Briar— I’m an open book. If you wanted to know more about me, you could’ve just asked,” he says with a sickeningly sweet smile.

That’s the moment Niall returns to the table, and presumably the only reason she doesn’t drop to the floor in fetal position.

“Thanks, Briar. Lunch was great. We’ll see you next time,” Niall says sweetly.

“Thanks!” she squeaks, scurrying to the back, where she nearly mows down Cam.

“Woah! What’re you doing?” Cam squeals.

“He KNOWS!” Briar wails.

“Who? Who knows — OH!” Cam shrieks. “What did he say to you?”

“He said, ‘Briar, I’m an open book. If you wanted to know more about me, you could’ve just asked.’”

Cam’s mouth drops open. “Did he say it with his sexy accent and sultry voice?”

“Shut up!”

“Fine. Well, what did he tip you?” she asks, reaching for the book in Briar’s hand.

She opens it, finding enough cash to cover the $450 tab, and an extra $300 as a tip.

“Damn! Who has that much cash at one time?” Cam laughs.

Briar flips to the back of the book, only to find a note on a small piece of paper:

I’m an Aquarius, in case you were wondering. : - )

She stares blankly at the note. When did he have time to do this? Was he going to slip this note to her regardless? A million thoughts run through her head, until she hears Cam.

“What a creepy-ass old person smiley face,” she says, shaking her head.

Briar thinks it’s the cutest thing in the world.

~

Finally, her shift ends and she can escape the club, just for a day. As she heads towards the women’s locker room, she’s rummaging through her bag, attempting to fish out her street clothes so she can change as quickly as possible.

As she stalks closer to the locker room, she collides head-first into a firm, wet object. She feels strong hands grasp her hips to steady her.

“What the fuck?” she says, moving the hair out of her eyes, only to be met with a strong tattooed torso, partially covered by towel tied loosely around the person’s waist.

Her next words die in her throat as she looks up.

Harry.

Harry, who just left the steam room.

He smirks down at her, gently letting go of her waist. Suddenly, she feels hot, as if she were just in there with him. Briar’s fight or flight kicked-in, causing her to spin on her heels and flee in the opposite direction. 

He senses she’d run, so he gently grabs her wrist, locking her in place. She peers up at him like a deer in headlights. His other hand is firmly planted on his hip to hold up his towel, in fear of giving the whole club a show.

He tilts her chin up so she’s making direct eye contact. Her stomach drops, sending a wave of nausea through her body. She studies his face; long eye lashes, slight stubble and two dimples that form as he smirks down at her softly.

“I told you, I’m not shy.”

He releases her chin and saunters back to the mens’ locker room.

#ghoststyles #fairway to heaven #Harry styles smut #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #golfrry #dom!harry #daddy!h

[the-sage-libriomancer]

i’ve been watching One Punch Man, and i do appreciate that ONE makes sure to balance class differences (in terms of status, not money) pretty evenly. a lot of class-centric stories, especially in shonen, pick one of two extremes: make all the characters high-ranking individuals with low-ranking npcs as cannon fodder, or make all the lower-ranking MCs rise to the top while high-ranking characters sneer. The first one paints the high-ranking characters as the only people worth talking about; the second one makes the low-ranking characters seem like plucky underdogs who deserve their positions more than the high-ranking ones.

but One Punch Man has a point to make about hierarchies - namely, that people can be good and bad no matter where you are in the pecking order - and unlike a lot of other shonen works, he puts his money where his mouth is. sometimes you get selfless, heroic Class S heroes (Genos, Bang), and sometimes you get selfish, arrogant Class S heroes (Metal Knight, Tornado). sometimes you get altruistic, hard-working Class A heroes (Smileman, Lightning Max) and sometimes you get self-centered, opportunistic Class A heroes (Snek, Dark Gatling). sometimes you get Class C heroes who are willing to sacrifice themselves to save others (Muman Rider, Chain Toad), and sometimes you get Class C heroes who’d rather chase after recognition and fame at the expense of other heroes (the Tank Top brothers).

and in the middle of that you have Saitama. possibly the most powerful man alive, easily the most powerful man in the Hero Association, and yet he's ultimately just a c-grade hero trying to make his way up the ranks like everyone else. he does want to earn a higher rank, but only because it's a goal to pursue (and probably because he's lonely and conflates attention/notoriety with human connection, but that's a whole other post). and yet it's been shown multiple times that even in the face of an opportunity to raise his rank, when it comes down to it, Saitama will always pick helping others over being a hero. he'll lean into ugly rumors about being a lying cheater if it helps Class B heroes get the recognition they deserve. he'll save people who insult him (Suiryu), people who are taking advantage of him (King), people who obviously deserve whatever karmic punishment he's saving them from (the butt-chinned kid). he treats everyone equally, regardless of rank or wins/losses ratio, and judges them on their own merits - not by how powerful they are or how high their rank is, but by how well they treat him and others.

One Punch Man stands out because ONE is determined to go the extra mile in showing that status simply doesn't matter to real heroes. it's not a matter of what rank you are - it literally is just how you choose to conduct yourself. you get bad apples in every bracket, but you also get real gems who defy all the negativity that builds up between ranks and genuinely try to help. you can tell ONE really thought out his deconstruction and subsequent reconstruction of the class/status divide and power scaling issues that are so prevalent in shonen manga, and as per usual with his works, it makes for a thought provoking read.

#anyway. that's enough big words for one day #i just think it's neat how ONE always says “is anyone gonna thoughtfully critique that” and doesn't wait for an answer #i've never known an artist like him #one punch man #saitama #analysis

[izvmimi]

cw: underground fighter au, violence, smut at the end, minors dni. power imbalance. fem!reader. reader wears heels and is called 'princess'

"Sickening hit from our rising champion!" screams the announcer, and the entire crowd bursts into whoops and cheers as Katsuki's third opponent of the week collapses.

But Katsuki can barely hear them over the rushing of blood in his veins, the thump, thump, thump sound of his heart racing as it always does when he's in the middle of a fight. There may be ropes, a ring, a crowd, thousands - no, tens of thousands - of eyes watching, but for him, it's just him and his opponent facing off, struggling for dominion over the very ground split between them.

He lunges again because the man he's fighting is not down yet, wavering slightly as he tries to steady his feet and sturdy his stance, and Katsuki gets him again in an uppercut to the chin that lifts him off the ground with its force.

Brutal, yet effective.

It's enough to down him for good.

The referee calls off the rest of the battle and Katsuki is still wired, but he can at least hear the chants of his name now, the stomping of feet as people collect due on their bets. He's the rising champion, for sure, and money trickles in and out any time he shows up.

His injuries are few. Some scratches, a gently bruised lip, but nothing that would distort his handsome features - he's well aware that he makes money off of the fact that he's not only strong, but attractive, and with that thought, his eyes drift up to the ringside suite in an attempt to lock with yours.

He does spot you, but you're not looking at him through the spotless glass right now from your usually overstuffed luxury sofa; right now, you are instead preoccupied in a conversation with a suited man who looks about your age as well, leaned in close enough that you could smell his probably too expensive cologne. That man notices however, the red stare attempting to pierce him from the ring below him, as the referee raises Katsuki's hand and names him champion yet again. Katsuki takes out his mouth-guard and spits into the bucket his coach sets below his chin, and the man smiles at him, knowing what you don't already know.

---

"My daddy won't like it if you throw the match, just so you know."

The click of your heels are loud as you walk down the hallway, Katsuki just a pace behind you, cleaned up with hands shoved down his pockets and back slightly hunched. The scowl on his face is for show, he's thankful to have been invited to dinner by you, but the idea of trailing behind you like a trophy upsets him, especially if you won't consider him for real.

"Does your daddy want to step into the ring instead, princess?" he replies. His smirk widens, he's proud at the fact that you stop and turn to look at him, but when you meet him with just as smiley and expression, he's taken slightly aback.

"Careful you don't get your wings singed there, Icarus," you reply, cheerfully. Katsuki feels his stomach turn and heat rush to the crotch of his pants at the same time.

Over a veritably lavish feast, you entice him with talks of sponsorships, the chance to fight in bigger and bigger arenas, money, fame, notoriety. He chews on every promise and swallows every compliment, even if you are just buttering him up, because in his heart he can imagine that you are more than a rich, spoiled businessman's daughter and are actually enamored with him. After all, he watches your eyes linger a little too long on his arms as he stretches every so often to get more comfortable, how your voice pauses when you watch him gulp down glasses of water.

"So all I have to do is keep winning to get your favor?" he asks, with a grin. There's a double meaning to this sentence, one that you don't immediately detect, but when he leans in close and lowers his voice to tell you that he never loses sight of the things he really wants, you catch on quite quickly.

Katsuki keeps winning, and your company's pockets line with cash. Your connection is tangible, electric, and when your eyes do connect through the glass, and you're ignoring your suited beau to watch the way his body moves, the way he fights for your attention, it's not so surprising that he wins you over too.

"How do my wings look?" he asks.

Your cheeks are warmed still with affection and lust as you stare at his bare back, the gentle red of fingers pressed to skin and soft scratches markers of your affection. In your wine and love-drunk haze, it takes you a moment to understand what he's getting at, but then you let a finger run down the middle of his back, trailing gently down his slightly ticklish sides. He tenses, body scrunching against the mattress that just took a beating, and you laugh.

"Perfect."

He smiles and pulls you in closer, then rolls so that you're on top of him. You look down at him, lovingly, not because you own his image but because he's given himself freely to you, and you've returned it. His hands settle on your hips, then slide to your asscheeks, and he squeezes.

"I do think I'm flying too close to the sun, though," he whispers. You let out a soft moan as he settles you back onto his cock, and you rock back and forth in a soft undulation, a sharp deviation from the rough, hair pulling sex of just before. You press your hands on his chest, rocking your own hips to feel him as much as possible, softly panting as he holds you tighter and pushes into you deeper.

"Mm... why?" you breathe out, falling gently onto him. Your bodies meld and move as he kisses you and rubs you down.

"Just some jerk who can punch really hard, aren't I?" he murmurs. You stop, and you can feel his heartbeat against yours again.

You cup his face in your hands, and his eyes are soft, waiting for your response. You kiss him.

"You're the best I've ever seen," you reply.

"What happens if I lose?" he asks. You blink, taken aback by the question.

"We get you winning again."

You bite his lip, resuming the pace but he's slow to move, still unsure.

"And this?" he asks, his voice no more than a whisper. You press your forehead against his.

"This? This is forever."

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #daydreams: bnha #thoughts: katsuki #mimi's notes