#whoops new management au

[monty-glasses-roxy]

Pfft in this new set up for New Management AU I have, it'd be pretty funny if instead of putting Freddy or Bonnie in charge or anything, Roxy puts guys from Sewerhell in charge instead. Zags (an old Freddy) is now in charge of Fazerblast and while Freddy completely expected her to pull something like this, he's still incredibly unimpressed. Of course she picked Zags. Zags is like if Roxy was a fucking bear. Why is he not surprised in the slightest.

Bonnie is less bothered. He knows he's a bimbo. He's very proud of not knowing what the braincell looks like. He understands completely. Though he does pull a shovel talk style thing on whoever she picks to size them up for the job. Just for funsies.

[queenofbaws]

Surprising no one more than him, Conrad watched Ashley (not smooth-talking Josh, not kill-you-with-kindness Sam, not lovable oaf Chris, but timid, terrified little Ashley) step forward, her hands out in supplication. “Julia, I’m sure you’re, like, really, really disappointed and a little insulted right now.”

“A little insulted?! Are you kidding me?!”

“But I am being so serious when I say this, okay: This house is haunted. It’s so, so haunted. And that’s not a joke, or a prank, or—”

“You are kidding me. You have to be. You guys have been plotting this for who-knows-how-long, you’ve been pretending to commune with the dead in front of all our friends, you took advantage of our trust and hospitality, and now, what? You want me to believe it’s real? You want me to believe you’re trying to help me?!” She went as if to advance on Ashley, but Alex put an arm out, holding her back.

“Hey now…no one said anything about helping.”

“Thanks, Wash. Helpful. Really de-escalating the situation.”

“No prob.”

Read all 15 chapters of the NEWLY COMPLETED fic on AO3! :D

Of Mummy Men & Bathtub Soup an Until Dawn/Man of Medan ghost hunting au…sequel???

For Conrad, it wasn’t anything personal…except it was. Who did Alex and Julia think they were? Did they not understand the implicit rules of the sibling hierarchy? If he had to deal with the reality of his little sister - his baby sister - getting engaged and married and, God help them all, having kids before he’d had even one noteworthy long-term relationship, then hey, she and Alex could deal with what he threw right back at them.

Well. What he’d have the CREEPs throw at them, anyway.

Tumblr AND AO3 links in the notes!

[zombubble]

im almost ready to post the last chapter of sizhui therapy fic but i need to refrain so I can do one last readthrough since I added a bunch of stuff in this last round of editing.

long chapter, rip laksdjfl

[lunaritex]

𓏲࣪ ִֶָ ︎ִֶָ LOVE HIDDEN IN PLAIN SIGHT 𖤐. — yang jungwon.

pairing: idol! jungwon x fem! reader. content: idol au, childhood friends to lovers, reader is female, reader is not an idol here, reader got stood up (not by jungwon), confession, fluff. wc: 1.7k

FROM HYE: childhood friends to lovers troupe will always hit idc!!! idk why this became kinda long though, whoops... ALSO NO DOUBT AND DAYDREAM IS SO GOOD IM ASCENDING

This cannot be happening. 

You sighed for the unknown time, leaning back in your seat as you tapped your phone. The screen lit up upon your brief contact but as always, there was no new notification from your boyfriend. Nearly an hour had passed and you were sure your current state was gathering unwanted pitiful glances thrown your way. You knew what they were thinking. In their eyes, they saw a dressed-up young adult, excited for her date with her boyfriend, only to get stood up and had been hopelessly waiting there, like a complete fool. 

You finished the drink and decided to leave, having waited long enough. You stepped out of the cafe, the door gently closing behind you as you pulled out your phone to call the first person you thought of. It only took two rings before the intended receiver picked up. 

“Hello? (Name), aren’t you supposed to be on a date with Sungjin?” Jungwon asked, concern evident in his voice. His questions put a smile on your face, probably at the fact that he knows your schedule for the day, despite how he was in the midst of practice when you heard music coming from his background on the other line. 

Your prolonged silence was starting to scare the idol, who had stepped out of the practice room after signaling to his members that he was on a call. Jungwon frowns when his ears register the poorly stifled sounds of you sobbing. Hearing you breaking down is similar to getting shot in the heart. 

“(Name), what’s wrong? You know you can talk to me,” he continued in a soft and assuring tone. 

“I… I got stood up. I waited there for an hour and Sungjin didn’t turned up, making me look like a fucking idiot,” you replied through your tears, letting out a bitter chuckle. 

Jungwon's grip on his phone tightened as he listened to you, his jaw clenching when he realized the pain in your voice. The news hit him like a blow: once again, you have been left standing alone, waiting for someone who clearly did not deserve you. His eyes darkened, a storm of anger brewing in them.

“Wait,” he interrupted, his voice low but seething. “He… stood you up? Again?”

You let out a sigh on the other end, trying to laugh it off, but Jungwon could hear the hurt behind it. That was all it took. He took the stairs instead of the lift, stepping out of the company. His sudden disappearance will surely cause his manager to be worried and how he had forgotten his mask would make the situation even worse. But none of that matters when it comes to you. 

“Where are you?” he demanded, his tone softening just a bit when he spoke to you. But there was an undeniable edge to his words, a mix of frustration and protectiveness that seeped through.

"Jungwon, you don’t have to—"

“Just tell me,” he insisted, his voice firm but reassuring. “I need to know where you are. I’m coming to you.”

“...I’m at the park we played at when we were kids,” you replied, knowing your childhood friend is very persistent when the times required him to be. 

Somehow, your feet had led you to the place where you had created countless memories with Jungwon. You took a seat on one of the nearest benches, watching as people of all ages minded their business. Some were having fun with their children or partners. There were children running around the playground area, screaming at the top of their lungs as they chased one another. The sight made your heart soften, as you remembered how you and Jungwon were just like them; having the time of your lives before the harsh reality of life combined with responsibilities had taken over you. 

“(Name)!” 

You turned at the shout of your name, eyes widening in pure disbelief at the sight of Jungwon rushing towards you without a care in the world. What rendered you speechless was how he had forgotten to hide his identity, resulting in the public stopping to openly gape at him. Some had even pulled out their phones to record him, ready to post it on the Internet. Flustered, you stood up, grabbed his hand and dragged him to your home. 

When the both of you are in the privacy of your home, you turned and smacked him on his head. 

“Ow! What was that for!?” He yelped, rubbing the spot with his hand. 

“You idiot! Why did you run out in the midst of practice, and without a hat or a mask too!? What’s going to happen if your manager hears you ditch practice!” You scolded him, resembling a mother scolding her child. 

“Alright, I’m sorry! The thought might have slipped my mind when I heard you were crying,” he admits with a sheepish grin on his face, lowering his hand. 

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “Look, it’s fine. You didn’t have to come all the way here. I’m sure Sungjin’s probably busy with work and he had forgotten to text me.” 

Jungwon gave you an unreadable look. “You’re always making excuses for him.” He shook his head, running a hand through his hair as he tried to rein in his emotions. 

“Tell me, has he done anything good for you in this relationship? Has he ever gone out of his way to make you feel loved, or even just… appreciated?”

You were silent, and he took this as a chance to continue. 

“But what about you? You deserve someone who’d show up without a second thought, someone who’d want to be with you, not leave you hanging like this,” Jungwon continued. 

You opened and closed your mouth. “I—” 

He exhaled sharply. “You don’t get it, do you?” He said, his voice softer but laced with pure honesty that made your heart race. “I’ve been here, right by your side, through all of it. I’ve watched you get your heart broken over and over… and every time, I keep hoping you’ll see what’s right in front of you.” 

You stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in. 

“I can’t stand seeing you hurt anymore,” he whispered, his eyes glistening as he held your gaze. “Because I love you. And I would never leave you waiting, not even for a second.”

“Jungwon, I…” You struggled to find the words, feeling a mix of shock and confusion. “You’ve… always been there. I just—”

“You didn’t know,” he finished softly, looking down for a moment, a faint sadness in his eyes. “I know. I never wanted to push you or complicate things. I just wanted you to be happy.” He paused, swallowing hard, his voice lowering. 

“But seeing you go through this again, seeing someone else treat you like you’re disposable, when I know you’re anything but… I can’t keep quiet anymore.”

Your chest tightened, a wave of emotions you had not expected crashing over you. All those times he had offered a shoulder to cry on, the countless moments had picked you up when you were at your lowest—had they all been laced with feelings you’d missed? Slowly, you reached out, placing your hand over his. His fingers were tense beneath yours, but at your touch, he glanced up, searching your face with an expression that was both hopeful and terrified.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

He looked at you, his eyes raw with vulnerability. “Because I didn’t want to lose you. I didn’t want to risk our friendship over something I could never take back.” His hand turned under yours, holding it gently as he continued. “But now… I can’t pretend anymore. You deserve someone who’s there, through every high and low, someone who sees you for who you are.”

The words touched something deep within you, warming your heart in a way you hadn’t expected. As you looked into his eyes, the realization hit you like a flood—Jungwon had been that someone all along.

With a breath, you leaned closer, feeling a sense of clarity for the first time. “Maybe I’ve been blind,” you murmured, a small smile tugging at your lips. “But now… I see you.”

A spark of hope flickered in his eyes, and without another word, he closed the distance, his forehead resting gently against yours. You saw how his eyes flickered to your lips for a brief moment. He was about to lean in when the moment was rudely interrupted by your phone ringing, causing you to pull away. Your face felt when you recognized the number. You were about to reject the call when Jungwon snatched the device out of your hand, accepted the call and put it on speaker mode. 

“What are you doing!?” You hissed, but he merely shushed you. 

“Hello, (Name)? Oh my god, I’m so sorry I missed out on our date. Are you still there? If you want, I’m free now and we can have dinner together if you want,” Sungjin’s frantic voice echoed throughout your apartment. 

“Sungjin, is it? Sorry but your relationship with her is officially over. I’ll greatly appreciate it if you could leave her alone,” Jungwon nonchalantly replied, his thumb drawing circles on your knuckles. 

“...Who is this? And what’s your relationship with my girlfriend?” Sungjin’s voice turned cold but Jungwon was unfazed, turning to face you with a wide grin on his face. 

“Me? I’m her new boyfriend and now if you could excuse us, we have a date to tend to, goodbye and see you never.” 

“Wait—” 

And just like that, Jungwon ended the call. He had even blocked his number, preventing your now ex from calling you anymore. You, on the other hand, burst out laughing. Jungwon puffed his cheeks. 

“What’s so funny?” He pouts. 

“N-Nothing, I didn’t expect the leader of ENHYPEN to be this bold, but since when we’re going on a date and since when you’re my boyfriend? I think you have skipped a few steps,” you teased him once you had calmed down. 

Jungwon’s eyes widened in realization. “Oh! Then (Name), would you do me the honors of being my girlfriend?” 

Chuckling, you moved closer to press a chaste kiss on his lips. “Of course, Jungwon. I’d be more than happy to do so.” 

He made a noise of happiness before engulfing you in a bone-crushing hug, to which you returned the gesture. “You have no idea how happy I am right now.” 

“And what’s the reason?” You inquired when he pulled away to admire your face. 

Jungwon’s features softened as he cups your cheeks. “It’s because I finally got the prettiest girl and I can finally call her mine.” 

[ja3hwa]

♡ 𝐇𝐮𝐫����𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐥 | 𝐀𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 ♡

【Synopsis】 : It's been so long since you've seen your boys. And when the youngest comes knocking on your door, the new life you had only just managed to build comes crashing down.

『Word count』 :  4.8k

-> Genre: Mafia au. Angst. Fluff.

Pairing: Mob Boss!Ot8 Ateez x Reader

[Warnings] : lots of heart ache. The reader is beside herself a lot. Blood. Gore. Death. Torture. Reader gets kidnapped. Tears. Hugging. Lots of cry. Grovelling (we stan a good grovel). And yeah, lots of angst but fluffy at the end. Kissing. Mingi got a dirty mind. Whoops.

Note: uh, so hi. Ahha It's been a while... I finally decided to actually finish the alt ending of this fic. I've had people ask for more, and I honestly forgot about it. But then i saw someone send in THIS request, and it made me want to finish this. So this can be read as a stand-alone. But if you want to read part 1 and the other ending. Go ahead, otherwise enjoyyyyy ♡

Part one | Other Ending

Masterlist | Navigation

You were alone. Wandering through life with nothing to hold onto. You were going underwater, and no one was around to help you above the heavy waves. You were numb. Heartbreak ridding you of happiness… Or so you thought.

Through a bottle or two... Maybe three or four. You found at the end of it. You were just as unhappy as you were before you took the first sip. You needed a change. A change of scenery. A change of personality. A completely new life. So there you were two towns over. Maybe not a whole country away from the old you, but this was just as good. A new apartment. New job. Architectural design. You enjoyed it, so dearly. It became something that kept you going. That kept you waking up. You were fighting for a glimpse of happiness in mornings that were still hard, and nights were just as restless as ever.

You were alone. Yes. But you tried.

It's been two whole years. You think you’d forgotten everything by now. But the biggest, deepest pain didn’t seem to heal as quickly as everyone says it does. Fucking Liars…

You were having a break from your long hours of sketching a new mansion floor plan, a private owner wanted it done within the week and for a heavy price and as much as it was a distraction you couldn't help but think how the design the private buyer seemed to want a floor plan that resembled something that one of your old lovers would have loved. The vintage vibe with a green and gold theme matched Mingi and Yunho perfectly. Your brain almost thought maybe they were the private buyer. But why would they go to you after what you had ‘apparently done’ to them? Before you could dwell on the idea anymore, the sound of your doorbell broke your gaze from the large sketch in front of you.

You question why someone would be visiting you at this hour, given that most of your clients would email you beforehand and your ‘friends’ would text. So, who could possibly be at your door? Your heart thumped strangely as if your body knew who was beyond the large oak before you. A ball started to form at the base of your throat. Was this anxiousness you were feeling? Gripping the silver handle, you creek the door open slowly, and when your gaze met the other person you feel your heart stop. 

“Hi…”

You looked at the man with a dumbfounded expression, tilting your head in confusion. Hi? After all these years, hi is what he starts with. What does he take you for? A hopeless woman needing a man to catch her when she falls?

You go to shut the door without a second thought, but he catches it in his strong arms. The same arms that used to hold you. Shield you from all the danger―no stop you didn’t need them when you were completely broken and you most certainly don’t need them now.

“Please let me explain. Honey, I just…” He was scrambling to find his words, his breath catching his throat like he was running a marathon prior to this interaction. “I wanted to see you…tell you.”

“I don’t want to hear it, Jongho.” You finally spoke, silently yelling at yourself for sounding so shaky in your voice when you wanted to be mad, tone-deaf, blunt. But here you are, wanting to cry cause of the anger surging through you. Why must you always cry when you get mad. “You don’t get to come here after almost two fucking years, call me honey and tell me how much you miss me and think I’ll just fall back into your arms as if nothing happened.”

“T-that’s not what I want nor expect from you. I just want―I don’t care what you want. Now get off my porch.” You cut him off, slamming the door in his face before breaking down the minute you heard the latch click. Your legs buckle, sliding down the door before your knees hit the ground, sobbing into your hands. Your heart was breaking all over again, just like the night you left. You wanted nothing more than to run after him, beg him to hold you. But you couldn’t. They hurt you so much. How do you even begin to forgive them for what happened all those years ago?

-

Through the next months, you kept receiving letters, flowers, and gift boxes. Even teddy bears. Why would they give you teddy bears? You think they would have known you from being with them for so long. Throwing yet another soft plush toy on the ever-growing pile that sat in your office. You were beginning to become sick of it. You thought after you yelled at Jongho, he and the others would have gotten the hint, but you guess being dumped by eight mob bosses wasn’t as easy as you thought.

Sighing, you click your tongue, looking at the stack of letters you have yet to burn. You can’t even be bothered to open them, not wanting to even listen to anything they might have to say. But another part of you was curious. Maybe one letter couldn’t hurt, right? Reaching for the one on the top, your fingers grasp the small paper. It’s rough against your skin. Like the paper was made from a poor-quality tree. Odd? Why would your ex-lovers gift you such cheap gifts? Not that you were expecting high-priced gifts, but they had enough money to buy half the world, so you think them getting something with a heavier price tag wouldn’t matter. Something wasn’t right. Something wasn’t adding up. 

But before you could think of anything else, a loud, almost anger-filled knock comes from the front door. Your body was suddenly on high alert. Goosebumps erode all over your skin as a sickening feeling clouds your head. Grabbing your letter opener―just in case―you walk slowly towards the noise. Thoughts ran through your head in time with the beats of your racing heart. You knew walking towards the suspicious noise was a bad idea, but what else could you do? Whoever was there would know you were home by the lights being on or how your car is parked in the driveway. You couldn’t just pretend you weren’t home, no matter how hard you wanted to try. 

Your fingers graze the door handle, feeling your breath hitch. You twist it slowly until you hear the creek of the door hinges swing inwards. You brace yourself for whoever it was, but what you are met with confused you. The porch was empty?

No one in sight…

But you certainly heard a loud knock. You were going crazy… were you? You huff, straightening up, feeling relief wash over you. Maybe it was some kids pranking the neighbours again, and you were their target for the day. Who knows. You click the door closed, but you lock it this time because even though you see no threat, you wanted to be sure. Entering your office again you walk over to the letters in order to continue what you were doing but when your eyes gaze over the pieces of paper you notice the one you were going to open wasn’t on the table. Where did you go? You thought, placing the letter opener on the table so you could place your hand on the edge of the oak desk so you could look under it. You looked everywhere and couldn’t seem to find it. It was like it had vanished. But…was that a flash? Something caught your eye.

Looking at the teddy bears, you see the letter sitting in the lap of one of the plushies. Tilting your head you notice a little red flash like as if there was a recor―Your eyes snap open stumbling back slightly before turning to run but your body is met with a very broad object and then before you can get any baring on what or who was in behind of you, everything went black.

-

It was like the world was spinning, your head pinging with an aching pain from the left side of your skull. You tried to open your eyes and look around, but you quickly figured out you were blindfolded and bound to what seemed to be a chair. Typical. Why is it that whenever someone gets kidnapped, they get tied to an old wooden chair? Why couldn’t it be a couch or one of those soft deck chairs? You could hear some scampering around you, three, maybe four people had entered the room you were in. You can smell their shitty cheap cologne that they most likely think bend women at the knees. You knew what kind of people they were before even seeing them. 

“Well well. Looks like my men have caught a pretty mouse of us to play with.” The heavy voice echoed around the room, hinting to you that you were most likely in an open area. A warehouse, maybe? “You are gonna be my ticket to freedom songbird.” 

You had to cringe at the pet name that fell from his lips. The name you were known as in the mafia world. More specifically, Ateez’s Songbird. You tried to sit still, hoping to show a fraudulent sense of confidence, but in reality, you were petrified. You no longer had the eight men you loved dearly to save you. Then again, you had no one to save you. Most of your friends lived out of town and wouldn’t even come to the rescue if you begged. You were alone with these men. Blindfolded and at their will. The man you assume was talking before lifted your blindfold off, seeing your eyes suddenly gaze upon the piercing light from the headlamp above you. You can see your suspicions were correct, four men ranging from sizable jock build to more lean ones but in the end, they were all ghastly, staring you down as if you were nothing more than a piece of meat.

“I want to know where Ateez is….” The grunt that escaped from the immoral male smelled of booze and low-quality cigars. His eyes were painted his redness, as if he hadn't slept in days, weeks even. He was boarding insanity at this rate by his expression. “Well come on, I know you know where they are, and to be blunt, I need them dead. You know business and all.” He rambles, walking around your figure while you sit there listening to his utter bullshit. His words remind you of when a villain in the story starts blabbering to the captor about how they needed to defeat the hero in order to take over the world. But in this case, both sides are just as villainous as each other, and the “world” that’s referenced is stocks… weapons, contraband, drugs, money. The list goes on and on.

“Why are you so quiet, Songbird? Protecting your lovers?” 

Now that one made you laugh, shaking your head in annoyance. Argh, what you would give to be home with a strong whiskey in hand right now. Your reaction sent a shocked expression to the disgusting man's face. He expected you to plea, beg for him to not hurt Ateez, to not hurt the loves of your life and yet here you sit, laughing right in his face like he had just said the most entertaining thing to you.

“I don’t know where they are.” You finally spoke, a sadistic smile painted your face. To never backed down from his gaze, almost trying to intimidate him with your blazed stare. “Why would I know, or care where they are? They don’t care about me.”

His paced. Fuck. He thought. Did his men really just kidnap you for no reason? He was going to shoot someone for this. He began to sweat, you were his only hope of getting the men he hates, attention. And now you were useless. His hand raked through his hair, coming down to scratch the stubble on his chin. What is he going to do with you now? Looking back at you his eyes slid down your body from head to toe, as if he was a predator sizing up his prey. You felt a sudden uneasiness. Maybe telling the man that held your life in his hand you were useless, wasn’t your greatest idea.

He moved away, whispering to one of his men before he sent him off, turning back to you straight after. He stepped one foot in front of the other in a slow and formed way, as if he had come up with the best plan in history. His devious smile brought a lump in your throat and the way he leaned down in front of you, placing both hands on the chair arms so he was face to face with you. “Well, little dove. We can find other uses for you, hmm?”

An idea popped into your head, and maybe it was your hotheadedness or your sheer stubbornness to do things out of spite. Bringing your body back slacked against the chair frame, you watched as his smirk grew, thinking he had finally managed to scare you, but before he could react, you whipped your head forward. Your forehead smashes against his nose with a sickening crack, and a blood-curtailing scream follows. The man gripped his nose with a sharp hiss. You could see blood pouring down like a waterfall from his nose, spilling all over his clothes and floor. Your blurred vision and ache in your skull doesn’t last long as you shake your head. You can see his men crowding around him to see if he is okay.

“Bitch!” He swore, standing up straight from his crouched position to stomp over to you and slap you clean in your face, making you and the chair fall over, smacking your side against the concrete. You can feel your wrist twist before popping out of place from the impact. Your elbow scraped against the harsh floor along with your arm, making you feel the sensation of your blood escaping through the broken skin. A cut on the top of your head also spilled some blood onto the floor making a headache begin to form. Maybe this wasn’t your best idea.

“Get the kit. I wanna teach this whore a lesson.” He spat out some blood that spilled into his mouth from his nose.

“whore? I thought it was bitch? Or as it little dove?” you need to shut your mouth but you choose to keep pushing his buttons. Idiot. He kicked you square in the gut making you hitch your breath before almost coughing up a lung at the pain. Your watered eyes could now barely see as you tried to blink the tears away. You spot out the corner of your eye a bag of what you could only guess, torture tools. Great, now you really fucked up.

-

You had passed out at least two or three times, and every time, you were woken up by ice-cold water to the face. The temperature of the water stung your opened wounds and burned at your hot red flesh. Time was absent to you, not knowing how long you’d been sitting, tied to the comfortable chair. God, your limbs were gonna ache once you were able to get out. that’s if you get out. 

Maybe you will die here. The irony. Dying in a place of crime in a life of anguish when you so desperately tried to run from it. To try so hard to clean up and forget the darkness that lingered in your past. But in truth, you missed. As sicken as it sounded. You missed the violence, the thrill, the wealth and power. You missed being feared by your enemies and adored by your lovers. Call you sadistic for finding nostalgia in torture, but it was true. Even if you were the one who was currently being hurt, you couldn’t help but smile weakly.

“I found her!!” A muffled voice and sounds of gunshots echoed around you. But you were so dazed you couldn’t seem to pinpoint the noise. Your eyes were fuzzed, and blood tainted your view. Everything was happening so fast until you saw the stillness.

“Y-yuyu?” Your eyes glossed, seeing a blurred figure that resembled Yunho. But it couldn’t be him, could it? You must be dreaming, finally getting ready to leave this plane, but why would your guardian angel look like Yunho?

“I’ve got you, baby. Hold on.” You had already passed out for the final time before you would hear another word slip from your ex-lover's mouth. His rough hands gripped the rope that bounded your hands, cutting it away with his pocket knife. He snaked his arm under your legs and on your lower back, picking you up from the old wooden chair with ease. Your blood had pooled on the floor and now trailed behind Yunho as he jogged with you in his arms. His suit was now tainted red from you, but he couldn’t care less. The only thing on his mind was getting you to safety and maybe killing some assholes along the way. 

-

To say you couldn’t explain the pain surging through your body was correct. You had never experienced such torture before, and man, you were definitely regretting some of the stupid shit you had said to the low-life mob boss earlier. Your vision was still so blurred, and your head was ringing. You could faintly see a bedside with a clock on it. But the face was dark like it was unplugged. You know this place. You remembered the smell of vanilla and pine. You remembered the dark spruce bed frame and emerald forest green bed sheets. You weren’t thinking when you started to snuggle into the bedding, inhaling the comforting scent.

You missed his smell. You missed being in this bed. God, you didn’t realize how much you missed them. You wanted to be strong. You didn’t want them, didn’t want to forgive them. But the comfort…. tears were falling from your cheeks onto the silk pillow. You were sobbing, and your mind was beside itself. One part screaming at you, telling you to suck it up and leave. But on the other side, you were so tired. So, so…tired…. and all you wanted was your boys. 

“Sugar…” You froze, hearing the man that belonged to the bedroom. His deep voice, velvet and smooth. You could hear a crack in it like he had been in tears prior. You didn’t move, frozen with fear, because you knew if you looked at him in those beautiful brown eyes, you would be done for. “Baby, are you awake?”

He knew you were, but he didn’t want to approach you without knowing if it was okay. He knew by the way you looked at them last time you saw them that you had feared them. Something he never wanted to see in your beautiful innocent gaze. Torment that he and the others caused. He would never forgive himself, so he understood if you never did either. “I want to go home…”

You didn’t know what else to say. So god damned scared to stay cause if you did, you might not leave. And you couldn’t do that. What they put you through. You couldn’t possibly begin a relationship with them again… right? “Mingi, please take me home…” you felt so small calling for him, you didn’t want to be surrounded by his scent but at the same time, you didn’t so much as budge from the covers. You didn’t want him to be near you, but yet when he sat down on the edge of the bed, your body was screaming to be held by him. Everything was so messed up. Why did it have to end up like this? Why was this your ending with them?

Mingi couldn’t find his wording, his hand coming up to your covered shoulders, putting a firm but gentle touch on it. He wanted nothing more than to hold you, kiss you. Make love to you while repeating how sorry he was over and over while he caused you to come over and over. “I missed you…” His voice cracked. “We all have…” better now than never to explain himself, right? “After the first couple of weeks, we found out that those pictures were faked. A way to manipulate us into crumbling our empire. They thought if they could put us all at each other's throats. I guess they won…”

“How did you find they were fake?” You asked in a whisper, keeping your face covered with the bed sheet. 

“Another anonymous tip went off that San was ‘sneaking’ around with some guy. But Wooyoung was quick to debunk it cause San was with him that whole week. So we quickly found out that this was a ploy to rip us all apart… which worked.” Mingi regretted every word he spoke. They managed to find out San was innocent quicker than you. San was lucky he had an alibi, though unlike you, that was away without their knowledge, just trying to buy a gift for your anniversary... god, they were so stupid...

“It...Worked?” You were confused about that since it only caused you to leave. From your knowledge, the boys were all still together? Mingi sighed, standing up, which caused you to peek out from your hiding spot to see him pouring a whiskey from the small bar in the corner of the room. Before downing the amber-coloured liquor.

“Seonghwa and Hongjoong became obsessed with work. They’ve become biter…” He took another shot of the harsh liquor. “Cruel… The number of people they’ve put in the dungeons just from looking in their direction wrong.”

You felt sick, flashes of them yelling at you, cursing you. The image of them with that anger plus a gun. You felt sorry for any of the suckers that were unlucky enough to gaze at them wrong. You tangled your fingers into the soft sheets, playing with the velvet fabric. You note how the hand that had popped out earlier was still slightly swollen and numb, making you barely able to feel the fabric on your right fingertips. “W-What about the others…”

“Jongho spent most of his time looking for you. Spying on you. Seeing all the achievements you have made.” He sounded proud of you for a moment like he sought knowledge of your life from the youngest. “Yeosang drove himself into his computer work, taking on small tasks in the outer parts of the city. If we hadn’t said we brought you home, he would have still been hiding somewhere.” He flicked his hand in the air, scoffing slightly.

“San and Wooyoung changed the most when you left. They became lost without you, distant… different. Like the sunshine was ripped from their life, and darkness consumed them.”

He took a seat at the end of the bed again. You had sat up, crossing your legs, eyeing his figure. He has gotten bigger than the last time you’ve seen him. He’s bulked up, and from what your memory could recall, Yunho was bigger as well. The way his arms felt being around you as he carried you to safety were definitely bulkier. “And what about you? Yunho?”

He huffed, glancing up at you. His hand was so close to your covered legs. So close yet so far. “Yunho and I are…fine. We missed you.”

You knew fine meant they were both struggling just as much as the others. You shifted, moving a little closer to him. Your heart was still aching, but your body was craving to feel some warmth. and at this point, you were so tired. Tired of fighting, tired of running. Tired of anyone telling you who or how to live your life? who cares if you run back to your exes? Who cared if you decided you move back with them? It’s not like you have friends or family that would tell you otherwise. All you had was them. Eight cruel mob bosses who would do anything for you and who were scared when they thought you had betrayed them. “I missed you too.”

His wide, glossy eyes snapped to yours. Like he had just heard someone spill the secret to life itself. His mouth went dry, a lump forming in his throat. He didn’t know what to say. He wanted to spill his guts about how much he missed your smile and missed your laugh. Missed the way you would tease him for being too clingy, but yet you were just as clingy in the next breath. He missed the way your body would melt against his on cold nights, searching for warmth. Or how you would fit so perfectly around his….

“Min…You mind is wondering…” You knew his tells, and you knew he was sinking into his mind. 

“I uh…I’m just trying to find the words to say I’m sorry without it sounding like it was an excuse.”

“I believe you’re sorry, mingi. I believe you are all sorry. It doesn’t change or fix what happened. And it’s going to take time for me to trust you all again. But…” You leaned over, placing your hand on his shaking thigh. “I do forgive you.”

He broke.

“We don’t deserve your forgiveness. We don’t deserve you…” Tears were falling down his red cheeks, making you jump to wipe each one away without a second thought. You hadn’t realized how close you were until you noted the smell of the whiskey on his breath and the warmth of his body radiating to yours.

“You might not deserve me. But who is here to tell me to stay away…” he gave you a smile. You didn’t want to forgive him or the others fully per se, but you did want this push-and-pull game. This cruel twisted game of forbidden love. 

“The others are going to want to see you…” He spoke cautiously, afraid you might recoil away from him if he spoke too loudly. You just sighed, lowering your hands into your lap once again, sitting back. You could feel your wounds with every movement, but it wasn’t as painful as before. They must have given you some painkillers prior to when you were passed out. You were about to speak when a sudden thud was heard, quickly followed by a bunch of hushed whispers. You couldn’t help but smirk at the childishness, for angry mafia kings they sure know how to act like goofballs.

“They’re outside aren’t they?” You cocked your brow, giving Mingi a simple straight expression. He just rubbed the back of his neck with a small whisper of, ‘Sorry.’

You rolled your eyes, telling him to let them in. Your heart might have been racing faster than a race car, but you tried to hide the growing anxiousness with a plain expression. You were going to hear them all out. You were going to hug San and Wooyoung as they sobbed on the end of your bed with mumblers of ‘I’m sorry.’ over and over again. You were going to give Yeosang a knowing look, so he knew that his silence was accepted and that you weren’t mad. You were going to thank Yunho for saving you, and he was going to kiss your palm as you held his cheek briefly.

And you were going to cry.

Sob at how Hongjoong sat on his knees, grovelling for your forgiveness and pleading how he was so messed up for not believing you. You’d all cry seeing the leader so vulnerable. And Seonghwa. Your darling, hwa… you would see such sorrow in his eyes. But you would let him kiss your cheek, hold you for a moment. Let him have you for a moment while you get your mind into check.

This was not a redemption. This was not forgetting. But a new chance.

Not a new chapter but a new book entirely.

You were going to grow, do your own thing. Be with them while you find yourself. And maybe, just maybe. You’d take Jongho’s offer all those years ago…and finally say yes…

— ♡

[chlorinecake]

🎙️ star-crossed lovers 【 薄幸な恋人 】 ⛦

summ✩ry While collabing with your girl group and Enhypen for a special stage, forbidden feelings spark between you and the main dancer upon dorming together

p✩iring idol!niki x popstar!reader ✩ requested ✩

-> PART 2 HERE

genre band au, fluff, secret romance cw swearing, mild bullying, the word ‘sexy’ like once, kissing, girl drama, reader is younger than Niki wc 4.4k

“Ugh,” Serenity groaned as the hairstylist applied yet another thick layer of chocolate brown hair dye to her scalp.

“This gig better bring in some serious bank, because never in my life would I willingly collab with those overrated wannabes,” she exclaimed, taking a frustrated sip from her vanilla latte.

“Hey, people used to call us wannabe's, too, you know,” Haerin said quietly as she tucked her hands under the UV light.

“Yeah, you should be more mature about this, Serenity... like I always say, professionalism triumphs pride," you added, only half-engaged in the conversation as a certain online article caught your attention.

As the band leader, you were always in charge of everything, so Serenity and Haerin were used to you talking to them this way...

“I’m just glad that we're getting exposure,” Haerin smiled, thinking of the countless nights you and your group spent practicing routines and writing songs for auditions, "it's not often that artists like us get opportunity's to perform internationally."

“For real,” Serenity cheered, “Riot Grrlz for the win!”

The three of you put your hands out to make a circle, “Riot Grrlz for life,” Haerin exclaimed, forgetting that her nails hadn't fully dried yet.

"Whoops," she giggled, just as Jade, the oldest of your group, made her way from the bathroom.

“What took you so long in there?” Serenity asked cheekily, “I thought we were gonna have to call the fire department.”

“Ha ha, very funny,” Jade returned, taking a seat beside Haerin so she could get her nails done, too.

“You were talking to the enemy, weren’t you,” Serenity accused.

“No, Ren, I didn’t go behind your back and sell my soul to the devil for fame.”

“Not that enemy,” Serenity grinned, “I'm talking about Mr. Six Foot Moon Eyes.”

“Oooooo,” Haerin amused, pulling your attention away from your phone.

“Ugh, let it up guys. My crush on Sunghoon is long gone, especially now that we’re gonna be working together. Besides, I would never act so recklessly over romance.”

“Who said anything about reckless romance,” you teased, unintentionally giving Jade a full view of the article your were reading on your phone.

"Nobody,” she began, “but I’m surprised you even heard that over all your internet-stalking.”

You were scrolling through a K-Pop news feed when you came across a post.

It was titled: "Enhypen Rumored By Netizens To Be Collabing With THIS Rookie Western Girl Group."

"Shush," you whisper-yelled at Jade, "unless you’re trying to get our record deals pulled!"

Just last week, your management team made you and your group sign a contract of secrecy, swearing silence regarding unpublicized business projects and associations: this included your upcoming collab with Enhypen that Jade nearly just spoiled.

Although, in all honesty, the blog's use of the word "rookie" bothered you more than potentially breaking any contract rules.

"Relax, boss, it's practically a ghost town in here," Jade defended, drawing your attention to the near vacant salon space.

Ding.

It was an email from your manager.

He wanted to inform you all that your chauffeur would be ready around 2:45am to bring you guys to the airport.

"Jeez," you mumbled to yourself, "looks like I'm not getting much sleep tonight."

“Shit,” Serenity whined, “I haven’t even made enough time to brush up on my Korean yet!”

“Luckily me and Haerin here are bilingual baddies,” Jade giggled, giving the cat-eyed girl a fist punch.

“Ahh, watch my nails!!”

▶︎ ၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌‌‌၊| • • •

Your company's fashion crew was experimenting with different concepts, assigning each of your members an individual color to permanently represent: Serenity was teal, Jade was purple, Haerin was white, and you were pink.

Some time passed, an you and your group arrived in South Korea around 3:00pm.

Thanks to the fashion tech your management team hired, it wasn't obvious that you and the girls had been in and out of sleep for the past 13 hours.

You couldn't help but stalk the headlines about your group, as rumors about your Enhypen collab continued to spread like wildfire.

So much for swearing silence and secrecy, you thought to yourself.

South Korean pop media had already seemed to build a vendetta against your group, given that you were young, talented, and most importantly, from the states. The xenophobia of most K-netizens was disheartening at best, but you understood that hate was a part of success.

Besides, you were living the dream of many engenes at the moment — most of them would sell their siblings to be in your shoes right now.

“Ahh! This is unreal!!” Jade cheered excitedly in the back of the limousine. You guys had just left the airport around thirty minutes ago, after getting past the pesky crowd of paparazzi.

“I know right? Korean McNuggets slap way harder than back home,” Haerin added while munching on the salty snack.

“Don't get too comfy, Rinnie. We will leave you here,” Serenity joked.

You hadn't even realized the radio was playing until a certain guitar riff blared from the ceiling speakers.

"Oh hell no," Serenity immediately cringed, covering her ears as you, Jade, and Haerin exchanged knowing look, bringing imaginary microphones to your mouths in unison.

It was Enhypen's song Blessed-Cursed, Jay’s voice singing "We go!" over the radio.

"Go, go, go, go, go, go, GO!!" The three of you cheered, obnoxiously dancing to the choreo while sitting.

Memories of your group (minus Serenity) binge watching music videos at sleepovers resurfaced in your mind.

Usually, you'd only listen to throwback hits like Britney Spears or Rihanna, mostly because Rnb and Pop beats inspired your own art.

Still and all, Blessed-Cursed was one video that the three of you fell in love, way before your upcoming collab was even a thought.

"Don't get mad when I start recording you clowns," Serenity threatened, thoroughly amused by your behavior.

▶︎ ၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌‌‌၊| • • •

Upon arriving outside the Hybe Building, a trio of body guards guided you and your girls to an office room where the seven boys stood awkwardly around a large table.

Part of you still couldn't believe this was all actually happening, despite it being right in front of you.

“Hello! We are Enhypen,” Jungwon bowed as the guards exited the room.

Jay visibly cringed at his leaders words, “I promise we were told to introduce ourselves like that. Please don’t judge us.”

“Well, uhm… H-hi,” you stuttered, feeling a bit nervous, “We are the Riot Grrlz. It’s a pleasure being able to work with you all.”

Niki, the tallest of the boys, caught your attention immediately as he greeted you with a peace sign.

Was he always this cute?, you thought to yourself.

That’s when a lady dressed in all black barged through the glass door on the other side of the room.

“Sorry to interrupt… well, not really. Me and the Enhypen boys are already well familiar with each other, but you ladies can call me Kim,” she greeted, waltzing into the office as if owning the place.

She was a fast talker, so you knew you’d have to pay attention to what she was saying or else you might miss something.

“I hope you made use of each others time and gathered everyone’s names? Phone numbers?”

”We were just in the middle of that before you came in, Miss Kim,” Sunoo clarified.

“Very well then. You have a total of 15 minutes to lock in dorming arrangements. As you’ll see on this clipboard here…”

She paused mid-sentence, holding the clipboard dumbly.

“God, can one of you take this thing already?”

“Oh- sorry,” Heeseung chuckled nervously, taking the clipboard from the fiery woman.

“As I was saying, there are four rooms for the eleven of you to somehow divide. And no, just because you’re all hormonal young adults, none of you get a free pass to break the no-dating rule.”

“No-dating rule? What is this, a detention center,” Serenity mumbled.

Kim cleared her throat, feigning a smile as she glared at Serenity with narrowed eyes, “This is a place of utmost professionalism, Princess Land of The Free. If you have a problem adhering to the rules in place here, you are more than welcome to leave.”

“A-and after that? The fifteen minutes, I mean,” Haerin blurted out shyly.

“All of you will meet back in the main lobby, where you will be guided accordingly.”

Miss Kim turned of her black boots, beelining to the door with powerful strides, “The timer starts now” she called out, closing the door behind her.

And with that began your group discussion of rooming arrangements. Unfortunately, though, things didn’t get off to a particularly nice start.

“Are you effing kidding me?” Serenity asked rudely, screwing her eyes toward a now annoyed Heeseung, “Why can't we just get separate hotel rooms?!?”

“Look, there's no perfect way to go about this," he sighed, crossing out the roommate pairs you all had just agreed on. "So you either humble yourself, or sleep in the bathtub for the next two weeks."

“Really guys, the math is simple,” Jake started, “There’s eleven of us and only four rooms to choose from. Nine of us will be divided in groups of three, and the remaining two will share the last room together.”

"Cool! Me, ____, and Jade can share the first room together!" Haerin obliged with a smile.

"Perfect, and where will I go?" Serenity questioned, mocking Haerin's excitement.

"The bathtub, right?" Jay teased, provoking Serenity to argue with him.

Meanwhile, you attempted to make peace with everyone willing to listen, “Guys, I agree with Jake. We need to make a decision quickly before Kim gets back.”

“Right. Everyone in favor of room number 1, provide a show of hands,” Heeseung said, Jay and Jake raising their hands with him.

"And for room 2?" Jungwon initiated, raising his hand with Jade and Haerin.

A pout formed on Jade's face once she realized that Sunghoon wasn't in the same pair as her.

"3's the magic number, I guess…" Sunghoon offered, Serenity raising her hand with him.

Now it was just you, Sunoo, and Niki remaining.

"I'll group with 3, too. All of our name's start with "S," so it just makes sense that way," Sunoo joined shyly.

"Welp, now that leaves the final room for me and..."

"Me..." Niki spoke with a deep voice, flashing a mysterious half-smile-half-smirk that you knew would haunt your mind later.

"Me and me... the odd one's out! Wow, that's actually perfect!" Jake cheered just as the lady in black strut back in.

“Times up,” she said, taking the clipboard from Heeseung to analyze the finalized dorming plans.

“Hmm, interesting,” she mumbled to herself, tucking the clipboard under her arm.

You all made your way down to the main lobby, just as Kim instructed.

One of the security guards mentioned that Hybe suggested a dinner outing for your group and Enhypen as a way to end the night before you started work the next day… or maybe it was mostly a way to officially confirm the rumors about your collab.

Upon arriving, everyone sat at separate tables, divided according to who they agreed to room with.

Although Niki seemed quiet at first, you and him were giggling the babies the entire time you ate.

“Poor Jungwon. He’s gonna be sandwiched between Jade and Haerin for the next two weeks, his biggest fans,” you joked.

“Nah, Sunghoon and Sunoo have it way worse. Serenity’s attitude is enough to send me running,” Niki chuckled, shaking his head.

"Speaking of running, how come you were appointed leader over your group even though you’re a baby," Niki teased.

"Not you baby-shaming me! I was born in 06', you've barely got any experience on me."

"I've had an entire YEAR to catch up on things, for your information."

"Things like what? Potty training?"

"Pfft, probably..." he replied, going quiet for a second before continuing, "If you ever need help, though, I don’t mind practicing with you after hours.”

"Sounds like fun, but that might be past my bedtime," you pouted playfully, taking one of the fries off his plate.

"Hmm."

"Hmm what?"

"Nothing, I just didn't take you as the type to follow rules," he smirked, taking a sip from his soda.

"I guess it depends on what rules we're breaking. Whether it’s worth it or not."

"So rule breaking is a “we” thing now, huh?"

"Probably..." you smiled, the cool breeze of the foreign air sending shivers down your spine.

Or maybe that had something to do with Niki?

Before you knew it, it was time to head back to your dorms for the night. You knew rehearsals in South Korea were taken a lot more seriously than where you're from, so you needed all the rest you could get.

▶︎ ၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌‌‌၊| • • •

Day one was easy.

The main focus was recording voice samples in the studio, experimenting with different harmonies, and training your vocals as needed.

Now you were on day two, which started with a quick vocal session, leading into the dance rehearsal warm-up right after. After stretching, the studio was split in half, girls taking the left side and boys taking the right.

You all wore numbers on your back. This way, there wouldn’t be any confusion when any of your were being called.

Niki was assigned number eleven, and you had number one.

According to Jake, the numbers were disseminated based on skill level, and out of the 11 of you, that made Niki first place… and you the very last.

As rehearsals went on, your placement was proving to be true.

You were struggling to keep up with the choreography and it was really starting to bug you.

"Are you feeling okay," Niki asked as you sighed for what sounded like the hundredth time.

"Yea, I'm fine, it’s just this footwork is a bit tricky," you admitted.

“Aww, the smallest number for our most inexperienced contributor,” Serenity teased, making a pass at both your age and inability to get this one move right.

“I may be the youngest out of all of us, but I was appointed head over our group for a reason,” you snapped back.

“Yea… and it still shocks me to this day,” she mumbled, Jade and Haerin pausing to listen now.

You scoffed at her ignorance, putting your hands on your hips, “As if you could lead the Riot Grrlz any better.”

Serenity gave you a look that made you wanna drop here right there in front of everyone.

You never understood why she always had an attitude over the simplest things, and given the current work setting, your tolerance for her bull crap was at an all time low.

“Right, the Riot Grrlz. “Rookie Western Girl Group,” huh? And you expect me to be proud of that?”

“With pride of lionesses, of course,” Jade pitched in, leaning down to fasten her shoelaces.

“We should really keep working on our routine, guys,” Haerin mumbled quietly, causing the raging brunette diva to roll her eyes.

Meanwhile, the boys seemed to be getting along rather well with their part of the routine, completely blind to the chaos brewing at their left.

And by the boys, I mean all of them except Niki and Jake, who were both too distracted by your girl drama.

Way to go embarrassing myself again, you thought to yourself

“You’re new to this sort of training, aren’t you,” Jake asked curiously.

“What, did my shitty dance moves give it away?”

You know it wasn’t Jake’s fault, but you were started to doubt your abilities as an artist and performer.

Even Serenity felt as though you were letting your group down.

“You’re not a shitty dancer, ____,” Niki answered, walking closer to you.

“Yeah, Niki’s right. You shouldn’t put so much pressure on yourself,” Jake added.

“Exactly! Just focus on your strengths,” Serenity pitched in, “your vocals, for example. You might ruin the dance routine, but at least you’ll save all the high notes with Heeseung.”

It was clear that you and Niki were equally fed up with Serenity’s toxicity.

“Okay, can everybody clear out for a moment," Niki clapped, causing everyone to back up against the walls almost instantly.

He pulled you by the hand, turning you to face him as he called out to Sunoo, "Put on a random dance track, real quick. Something upbeat, please."

“Gotcha!”

Turning back to you, Niki took your chin in his hand, making your eyes meet his. “Just follow my lead, okay?” He whispered, taking off the bracelet he wore before sliding it on your wrist, “Do you trust me?”

“Niki...” you started, not sure of what he was trying to do.

“I need you to feel the music, ____. Let it control you," he said, stepping away as a short remix of "Buttons" by the Pussycat Dolls blared from the radio.

You could hear an amused Serenity and Sunghoon chuckle a bit at Sunoo’s choice of song, but Niki remained serious.

His gaze met the ground before he started freestyling to the song, letting his mind and body get used to the rhythm as he flowed to the beat. You stood awkwardly beside him, not feeling up to dance at the moment.

He caught sight of you standing and nudged your shoulder, "Loosen up, ____," he smiled, finally starting to feel the song himself.

You started by mirroring his movements at first, adding a few steps to make it fit your own style more.

"See? Now you're getting it," he encouraged again, pulling you toward him so you could dance together.

Your friends and the boys cheered you and Niki on while you two danced as if choreographed.

The track ended with Niki's had on your waist, both of your chests heaving from all the action.

Haerin's jaw dropped as she struggled to find the right words or any words to say, “That was…”

“Sexy!” Heeseung smirked while playfully fanning himself, making Niki turn his face in embarrassment.

You could feel your own face getting hot now, too, especially with everyone staring.

"Relax, Rinnie, you're acting like you've never seen a guy dance with a girl before," Jade chuckled.

"N-not... n-never like THAT,” Haerin said with a shocked face, “____, you're amazing!"

"Thanks," you smiled shyly, eyes falling back the bracelet Niki put around your wrist.

"Keep it... it's a good luck charm," he replied softly.

"Alright, alright. You guys can loosen up each other's buttons on your own time," Serenity snapped, interrupting everyone's gawking.

"Right... On second thought, it’s time for our break," Jay called, handing you and Niki a rag for your sweat.

"Great job, you guys. See you in 20," Jungwon added.

"Come on, girls," you chirped, picking up your gym bag as you took a sip from your water jug, heading towards the studio exit.

▶︎ ၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌‌‌၊| • • •

The rest of the day continued according to your work schedule. One vocal practice followed the other as the initially difficult routine felt more natural with each retake.

You also made a stop by Hybe's fashion team, getting your measurements taken so they could design your outfit for the upcoming stage.

Although this was a work trip, you were having a blast in Korea so far. You liked getting to work with the new people and trying different foods. You especially liked being roomies with Niki.

He was super talented, chill, yet flirty at the same time.

No wonder his fans go so crazy over him, you thought to yourself.

“Hey, ____,” Niki called out, jogging to catch up as you made your way from the dance studio after going back to get the pair of headphones you forgot near the water cooler.

“I wanna show you something…,” he announced, “Well, a thing I like to do.”

“Mhm, and what’s that?” You asked playfully.

He chuckled, “Just a thing that I can’t get away with while in idol mode. My secret escape... Are you interested?”

You meditated on his words before answering, considering the early curfew outlined by both your managers, and how it was already 8:00 at night, “It’s getting pretty late, you know… Is it gonna take long?”

He giggled again, this time leaning into you. “Only if you’re indecisive.”

The sounds of your sneakers tapping against the shiny tiled floors bounced off the hallway walls.

Like you said, girls would sell souls to be in your shoes right now: there’s no way you were gonna pass up on a chance to hang out with Niki…

A chance to explore this reckless romance.

“Ok, let’s go, but we have to be back by midnight,” you agreed.

“Ok, Cinderella. We’re not too far from where I wanna show you,” he beamed, fighting the urge to hold your hand as you followed him out of the Hybe Building, clashing into the night.

▶︎ ၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌‌‌၊| • • •

The place was reminiscent of a skate park, graffitied ramp-like walls cupping you and Niki in the surface of the arena.

There were a few other people present, but they seemed more wrapped up in their own little worlds to even look your way…

The moon shined behind the thin clouds of the sky, basking you and Niki’s skin with an ethereal glow.

“This is it!” He gestured with open arms, “my secret escape.”

You tucked your hands in your pockets as it was a bit cold out, “A shared secret place?” You corrected, pointing out the tiny groups of people hanging around.

Niki pushed the hoodie from over his head, revealing his two-toned mane, “I guess you could say that… they’re all idols, here. Just like me. They get why I do this.”

“Why you do what,” you inquired, stepping over a few random rocks that decorated the path.

“Why I dance,” he answered almost immediately, looking you in the eyes, “for myself.”

He took a few steps away from you, swaying to the music that rippled from one of the mystery people’s carry-radios.

Like earlier, you mirrored his moves at first, adding your own adjustments based on intuition.

Feeling.

You had so many more questions to ask, but in this moment, you focused on Niki and the way he moved.

The small groups of people developed into a crowd within a matter of seconds, joining you and Niki along with the music.

Although everyone was doing their own thing, in a strange way if felt harmonious.

Some people danced calmly, others were more wild. Either way, you were starting to understand what Niki meant.

Being able to express yourself away from prying eyes, scornful comments, flashing cameras, or a number 1 sign on your back was invigorating.

The music was still going when Niki grabbed your hand and pulled you to the side, a soft look taking over his features.

“Kiss me,” he whispered, staring into your eyes.

“W-what?”

“I just need to know that what I’m feeling right now is real.”

You took his face in your hands, trying to make yourself feel more in control of the situation, “Niki, I don’t think we should do this. Your manager outlined pretty strict rules.”

He paused before responding, “Remember what you said at the restaurant the first day we met?”

His grip on your hands remained delicate despite how strongly he felt for you.

“About us breaking rules together… only if it’s worth it.”

“Exactly,” he smiled, leaning in, “I knew they didn’t call you a riot girl for nothing.”

His lips connecting with yours like a puzzle piece, both your hearts fluttering as if they’d grown butterfly wings.

You felt like your world was spinning at twice its original speed, but at the same time, the moment felt still.

Niki tilted his head, deepening the kiss as he braced a hand at your waist, pulling you closer before finally letting go.

“I like you, ____. Like, a lot,” he confessed, taking in the dreamy expression displayed on your face.

Your mind went blank.

“Say something? Please,” he urged, taking your hands in his.

A smile wavered over your features as you kissed him back on the lips, feeling as though you both stopped breathing for a moment.

“I like you too, Niki. But isn’t this pretty risky?”

“You said so yourself, risks don’t count if it’s worth it,” he nearly whispered.

“Well,” you began, still holding onto him, “if we’re gonna do this, it has to stay between us… no one else can find out.”

And just like that, you were now secretly dating your roommate / coworker / Enhypen’s main dancer and maknae / one of K-pop’s most sought after It-Boy’s, all in a three days.

Great.

▶︎ ၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌‌‌၊| • • •

You and Niki made it back to you dorm rooms undetected. It seemed like everyone else was either too tired or too busy to notice that you two were out for so long.

Unlocking the door to as quietly as possible, you and Niki took light steps, trying not to disturb anyone or draw attention to yourselves.

Once the door was closed, you both bust out in a fit of laughter for reasons you didn’t understand nor cared to understand.

You didn’t need a reason laugh when Niki was around… it’s kind of just something that started to happen over the last couple days.

“What’s your secret to performing so well?” You asked him, both laying face-up on the lower bunk bed together.

“Hmm, I feel like nervousness is a strength. It pushes you to go forward in a sense…”

“Yeah… I get that. Sometimes, I feel like being calm is dangerous. It puts you in a safe space, when performing should be all about taking chances.”

“Right,” he agreed, resting a hand over his stomach, “Speaking of chances, they’re precious, you know? I never just assume I’ll get another opportunity to dance.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Like…” he sighed, trying to find the right words, “Every time I get on stage… in front of those lights… in front of my fans… I perform-”

“As if it’s your last…” you answered for him.

“Yeah, that,” he chuckled, running a hand through his hair, “You know, it’s really nice talking to someone who gets me… the dancer part of me.”

“Of course, it’s really nice talking to you, too, Niki,” you smiled softly.

Breaking the calmness of the moment, he sat up in his elbows, meeting your face.

“Top or bottom?” He asked, referring to where you wanted to sleep for the night.

You crawled over his body, climbing into the upper bunk of the bed and laying down to finally rest.

“Good night, number 11,” you teased, snuggling into the mattress.

“Rest well, number 1. Big day tomorrow.”

🎙️ For my baby, @microwvdstrawb3rri3s, I hope it was worth the wait ~ And yes, before you ask, there will be a second part 💕

⛦ Additional tags for my fellow Niki enthusiasts: @fanficfactoryfoxxx @nikisblkgf @yourmomscuntis2tighy @nikimeows @kimjiho1 @nikipedia07 @nishimuradaniel

🎙️ Feel free to check out more fun reads on the pinned post at my home page ~

@ashgonedash, I still felt bad about forgetting to tag you earlier 👑 so here you go, my love :3

Update: THANK YOU ALL SM FOR 400 NOTES!!

[azulsluver]

I have a juicy thoughttt, hear me out for a second... For your twst bully! Au, imagine Riddle forcing the reader to attend one of the unbirthday parties.. It would be actual hell for them. Ace being an absolute shit starter as they're just trying to enjoy their tea and - whoops would you look at that. Ace " accidentally "elbowed the teacup off the table and spilt it all over them! He snickers and calls them a crybaby under his breath as the reader holds back tears of frustration. ( And somewhat failing) (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)

Deuce on the other hand doesn't exactly defend Ace's actions but it's clear that he's not doing anything to stop his bullshit. He literally doesn't even acknowledge what Ace did and continues snacking.

Cater on the other hand is laughing under his breath and low-key snapping pics!.. he agrees with ace and tells the reader to stop being so *sensitive*as he flicks their forehead. it was just an accident!!.. If you're good for him and tolerate his backhanded comments, he might NOT post the pics to his social media..

As for Trey, he's just sighing to himself as he cleans the reader up. His reaction is somewhat like Deuce's. While he's not defending both Cater & Ace, he's also not doing anything about it either.. At least he wipes their tears and hand feeds them a strawberry tart to somewhat comfort them. :33

As for Riddle, he knew very well what ace was doing. Luckily he warns and condemns Ace's actions. But not out of sympathy for the reader. It's because he simply wants the unbirthday party to go smoothly. If it was anywhere else he wouldn't have stepped in nor batted an eye.

During some parts, he's commenting on how much baked goods their eating and tea their drinking despite him quite literally inviting / forcing you to attend AND even pouring their tea at one point. !! It's so confusing..!! What's worse is him also staring down at the reader. Almost like silently threatening them to not act out and to mind their manners, or else they'll have a collar crushing their neck ! (⁠ ⁠≧⁠Д⁠≦⁠)

* I did NAWT expect this ask to be this long. My thoughts were just flowing and I was just nonstop typing. Anyways, I haven't re-read your bully! Au posts in a while so I do apologize if it's any inaccuracies or some spelling / grammar mistakes. *

SQEEE THIS IS PERFECT

The tea pot is so expensive and boiling hot, why wouldn’t you cry? It’s painful as hot tea is splashed on your best outfit for the day, your skin is irritated and burns but you know better than to yell at Ace. He did apologize, it’s half-assed as he carelessly throws a thin napkin your way.

If you do manage to slip up and cry you’re getting judged hard, stop making a big deal out of it you’re embarrassing Ace…. Deuce lightly scolds Ace on spilling the tea but doesn’t put his foot down any further, you’re not a baby you got this.

It doesn’t help that Cater is cooing and shoving his phone in your face, asking you if it hurts or need a new spare of clothing.

Riddle is losing his cool, the unbirthday party is ruined because you couldn’t shut up and accept the apology. Fingers are on you, you don’t even wanna eat the snack provided of how rude Riddle is blaming you of all people!

You’ll feel a little bad that Trey sighs heavily and cleans up the mess as usual, telling you to be more careful and ignore Ace and Cater’s teasing. He’ll slide you a treat later if you cuddle up to him for subtlety being on your side.

Riddle shaming your for eating too much or too little, what, is Trey’s cooking not good? Say it to his face. Riddle would make small comments on your eating habits but Ace steals the cake. He’s really mean :( because he isn’t afraid to poke at your stomach or pinch your thighs, watch what you put in your mouth you know.

[skullvgirl]

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE BEING BEST FRIENDS WITH THE BLUE LOCK BOYS 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

being best friends with the blue lock boys | school au

warnings ;; suggestive, school!au, fem reader, possibly ooc i haven't written for them in a years whoops. situation-ship ( ? )

incl ;; isagi, bachira, barou

an's ;; i backkkk ( maybe )

isagi

hes unsurprisingly super depenable, sweetest guy, always got your back and a picture perfect best friend. you've been best friends since you were kids and now that your in high school, not much has changed. the stoy has always been the same—the two of you met at a park, somewhere between where the both of you lived and since then you've been stuck together like glue.

you were so close in fact that at a certain point in time none of you can read people began to think of you both as one person. if isagi needed to know something but wasnt there at the time, just tell yn and the message would be received. isagi's in class that day but you have an appointment? just tell him and eventually the words will reach you ears, it was awfully convenient.

in some cases ( some rare cases ) isagi might've received a love letter to pass onto you and strangely enough you never seemed to get the message, speaking normally to whomever sputters and blushes while talking to you. its no surprise that most people think your off limits—they assume that your off limits beacause of how often the two of you are together, and while there are many many normal best friend behaviors that come along with your long lasting friendship there are a few...questionable things on-lookers observe about the two of you.

like for example your at almost every game and every practice. even when they're forced to practice inside it's almost like your unofficial designated manager because no one questions your presence and often ask you favors as if you're a real manager. and in the rare case somebody does ask ( most-likey a new freshman player ) everyone just answers with "oh her? thats yoichi's girl."

nobody's ever corrected it and its not like either of your really minded.

at games you wear his jersey or at the very least his jersey number and cheer like a maniac in the stands which ( isagi will never admit to your face ) boosts his ego like crazzzyy, spurring him on to play harder and harder each time.

you always leave in his car after whatever events took place that night and sometimes is even seen coming with him in the mornings. it doesn't help that you have 4 classes which him plus you're lunch period where the both of you will 100% without a doubt sit next to each other.

in the end he'll always be your best friend, whatever you need he's got you. wether thats a pat on the back or a lomg makeout session in the back of his car, he'll always be there for you. no matter what. ◡̈

bachira

you became friends in middle school. he was just as lonely as he'd been for years and just your luck, you were to!

the two of your bonded over your loneliness and if i'm being honest, neither of you saw each other in a romantic way until someone brought it up. bachira one day had been sitting in math and was about to fall asleep when his classmate tapped his shoulder to get his attention.

"hey, aren't you friends with YN?" he asked.

bachira didn't know what he was trying to get at by asking the question. I meanf wasn't it obvious? he was with you everyday. "Yeah..why?"

"aren't you gonna tap that? She's like, hot as hell." the male snickered disgustingly and if it wasn't for Bachira's scattered thought process he would have defended you from his peers comment. He thought it over for a moment.

am I gonna tap that...?

you on the otherhand were in your english class ready too doze off as well, hoping to dream about your little trouble maker of a friend.

"psst! yn! wake up!" your friend called from besides you.

you groaned and sat up to see what she wanted to say. "hmm?"

she giggled and scooted s bit closer too you whispering into your ear. "are you and him like—are you guys like dating or something?"

you pulled away from her and raised your eyebrows like you were surprised even though it was probably the 10th time somebody had asked you that.

"what? no! were just friends, really close friends thats all."

you both later realized that even before all the accusations the two of you liked each other, I mean, what kind of best friend lets you crashout at his place for days on end, spooning in his bed "because he's cold" then the next morning make breakfast for him and spoon feed it to him?

yeah now that you think about it...you should have seen this sooner...

barou

you don't know whats worse. being best friends either barou or being in love with him. you''ve decided on both.

it's only been s year since the two if you met, you were the new kid he happened to take a liking too even though he was well intergrated into BLLK HIGH, although there were many attemps at other people trying to enter your and his little circle of friends, they were met with disappointment. barou wasn't the one too mess with, especially not with his loved ones.

barou, although you considered yourself his friend, was still so hard too read sometimes. you share lunch together and you just can't help it if your heart races when his hand creeps up on your thigh, rubbing the squishy fat between his fingers. it makes you heart confused when he's barely even looking at you while he's doing it too, pretending to listen to whatever you're friend is saying.

at his game, he's perfect. sweaty and glistening beautifully under the lights as though a light rain had come doen too greet him. he meets your in the locker rooms and you congratulate him in many ways. what started out as just a few kisses soon turned into wandering hands and breathy moans cut off by the rest of the returning soccer players.

whats worse is the next day he acts like it's nothing. continuing to go about your regular schedule and trying to ignore the pains you get when he talks about possibly going to the spring dance with someone, he just doesn't know who.

it doesn't help that all of your friends on both sides seem too ship you two like crazy, having no problems in making sneaky little comments that suggest the two of you should get together.

barou didnt seem interested and for your own sake they drop the idea quickly. for a moment in your friendship ( if you could even call it that at this point ) the touches and the kissing stopped when it was let loose by a certain someone that you too weren't interested in the idea of being with him first the dance. and so for 9 long painful weeks of endless tension and pinning barou finally decided to make a move.

he burst into tge classroom he heard you were in for stuying and your body immediately tensed.

"oh, hi barou, what are you doing here?"

he smacked his lips and stomped over too your desk, "it's shouei to you, since when have you ever called me that?"

you shrugged your shoulders feigning nonchalance, "since whenever I started, now tell me what you want quickyly, i need too study."

barou shook his head head and moved you belongings aside so he was the center of your attention.

"hey what are you—!?"

"It this because of the dance?"

You stopped in the middle of your sentence to stare at him. "what?"

"the dance, because i said i wouldn't go with you?"

well that is not what you were expecting. "no...?"

barou sighed and crouched down so his was squatting now. "l—that time I thought, well I don't really know what I thought and-"

"shouei." you cut him off and he looked at your expression. "do you want to go to the dance with me?"

he stood up from his position taking you along with him. "'course i fucking do."

an ;; 🤢 shit ending, god awful writing, i know i sorry, ill do a samu soon to make up for it.

[nwjws]

(TEASER) WAIT FOR YOU TO LIKE ME AGAIN - LSH

READ HERE

; SYNOPSIS - whether it be in the middle of the halls or during his election speech, heeseung's never passed up an opportunity to ask you out on a date. although you've always said no, that hasn't stopped the boy from trying again anyway - at least until senior year, when he suddenly stopped pursuing you, to your (and everyone's) bewilderment.

; PAIRING - heeseung x fem!reader

; TAGS - teaser, one-shot, high school au, president!heeseung, vice president!reader, one-sided enemies to lovers

; WARNINGS - none for the teaser. warnings for the actual one-shot will be mentioned beforehand.

; WC - 389 words. fic is estimated to be 10k+

; WHEN? hopefully by APRIL 17! comment or send an ask if you want to be added to the taglist 🫶

you hated lee heeseung.

throughout the three years you've known him, he's been always the bane of your existence. the boy was constantly bugging you and pulling a new stunt every time to show off and get your attention. all this to ask you out on a date practically every week since the age of fourteen.

seriously, after a hundred 'no's you'd think he'd learn to back off, and yet, he was still persistent in pursuing you.

at least, until your final year began.

see, you two were competing against each other for student council president towards the end of the previous year. despite this, he still insisted that you go out with him throughout the election.

the worst part of the elections was that he was immensely popular (aka. he was an actual threat). on top of being the captain for boys' volleyball team, he was class rep and actively helped out teachers after school. students and teachers alike were drawn in by his hardworking yet casual nature, and how easily he talked to others. it didn't help that during the final election speeches, he had so graciously ended it with "and aren't all these qualities worthy of at least one date?"

of course he still managed to make such a serious event about asking you out. whoops and cheers echoed the hall, with almost everyone looking at you. everyone knew your history, with half the school on his side, cheering him on and urging you to say yes.

thankfully, the other half of the student body understood that no means no, and were more sympathetic towards you.

yet, it was his last sentence that won the people over, and he'd been voted as the president, with you as vice.

"just say yes, one date won't hurt," ningning had chuckled when you groaned about it again to her after she came back from her summer camp.

"yes it literally will? my pride and reputation of always saying no will eat me before i ever agree."

"maybe he'll back off if you do?"

"no number of rejections has stopped him, how would a 'yes' do that?"

"maybe he'll realise you're absolutely undateable," she laughed at you, which had you throwing a pillow at her in retaliation.

you scowled at her before pulling out your phone and finding heeseung's instagram.

; TAGLIST (closed!) perm. @lovelovelovebts @miyseung @babyy-bambii @haechansbbg @gweoriz @maoyueze @manooffline @chocwo @yizhoutv @isawritesss @bobabunhee @rikibun @wonniversity networks. @kflixnet @k-films @/k-labels

; AUTHOR’S CORNER! comeback fic 😝🤞icbb to say more

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

To the victor the spoils

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 19

Prompt: Enemies to lovers

Rated: T

CW: light blood and violence; steamy kissing; very light dubcon if you squint (they're actually both super into it, I promise)

Tags: Fantasy AU; Magic AU; Guard!Steve; Thief!Eddie; Sexual tension; Flirting; Fighting; First kiss

Notes: Thought that kiss was hot in writing? Wait until you see it! @house-of-the-moving-image did an entire mini comic!

In the end, it’s just the two of them again. 

Steve jumps over another groaning pile of half-conscious guards and bursts out onto the roof, cold night air slapping him in the face and making the cape of his uniform whip. 

“Munson!” he barks. 

He is standing by the edge of the roof, a black cut-out against the starlit sky. As Steve stalks closer, he can see the smile curling at his lips, the amusement glinting in those dark eyes. 

“Stevie,” he greets, like they’re two acquaintances who’ve just met on the market square - not the new Captain of the Guard and the city’s most wanted criminal. “My, don’cha look strapping in the new get-up. Congrats, I bet daddy’s mighty proud.” 

“Shut it,” Steve growls, ignoring the way Eddie’s eyes linger on his golden breastplate, the way it makes a treacherous heat prickle at his neck. “Flattery will get you nowhere. Now give it back!” 

He jerks his head at the necklace clutched in one black-gloved hand. Eddie pouts. 

“Don’t wanna. It’s shiny.” 

Steve groans. It’s like talking to a five-year-old. A five-year old clad in black armor who’s versed in combat magic. 

“It is a priceless magic artifact that’s been in Lord Carver's family for generations-” 

“Yeah, and what a load of good they’ve done with it,” Eddie sneers. “High time it got into the hands of someone who actually knows what they’re doing.” 

“Oh, and that someone would be you?” 

“Look at you,” Eddie winks. “Pretty and clever. Now if you’ll excuse me, I gotta-” 

“You’re not going anywhere!” Steve snaps. His sword slides out with a high, metallic sound. 

Eddie raises his hands. “Woah, big boy. Careful now, you don’t wanna-” 

Steve roars and lunges. 

Eddie skips out of reach, but not quite fast enough. A lock of curly hair floats to the ground. 

“Oh sweetheart, you're gonna regret this,” Eddie purrs. 

And all hell breaks loose. 

The air crackles with the taste of ozone, a blinding light erupts from the artifact, and Steve just barely manages to parry. Something whirrs through the air, glides off his blade and a sharp, hot pain explodes all over the side of his face. Something warm trickles down his cheek. 

“Hell yeah,” Eddie whoops and comes flying at him, giant shards of solid magic whirling around him, eyes eerily alight with their glow. “That's what I'm talking about!” 

The world blurs into a frenzy of movement and adrenaline. Attack and parry, dive for cover behind the towers and turrets and battlements of the roof, attack again. It’s almost comforting in its familiarity, this dance of theirs. Steve knows all of Eddie’s little quirks, the subtle twitches of his face that indicate his attacks before they actually come. They’ve done this so often, he can read him like an open book. 

The problem is, Eddie knows him just as intimately. Steve screams with rage, forces his aching limbs to go faster, harder, but it’s no use. Every blow that he tries to land, Eddie blocks, every twist and turn he makes, Eddie’s already there, always with that infuriating, dimpled grin, that amused little quirk of his brow. 

Until Steve’s foot lands on a wet patch of moss and he slips. 

It all goes so fast he has no time to be terrified - just feels the horrible sense of vertigo as the world tilts and the cobbled street jumps at him. Then, before he can so much as scream, there's arms wrapping around him and he's being hauled backwards, back pressed flush against another body. His blade goes clattering into the shadows.

“Whoops,” Eddie chuckles into his ear. Steve can feel his chest rising and falling with exertion, can feel his hot breath clouding against the shell of his ear. “Thought I told you not to fall for me.”

“Shut up,” he snaps, tries to struggle free, but Eddie has one arm around his chest, the other flush against the hollow of his throat, and he can't go anywhere. “Don’t give yourself too much credit.” 

“Oh, do I?" Eddie’s lips twitch into a smirk against the nape of his neck. “Then why were you holding back?” 

“Fuck you!” he grits out, but all it earns him is a low tut. “Now release me.”

“What, without a reward?” Eddie’s voice tingles down his spine, sweet and potent like poisoned mead. “You know how I am about pretty things. And you wouldn't wanna deny the victor his spoils, would you?” 

“Asshole!” Humiliation coils hot and heavy in Steve’s abdomen. “Stop joking and-” 

Eddie snarls against his ear. “I've told you a million times, honey. I'm not joking.” 

Steve’s world spins again, breath punched clean from his lungs as he is flipped around and slammed against the nearest wall. Eddie doesn’t leave him any time to recover, just surges in with a hungry growl and crashes their lips together. When Steve tries to struggle, he bites down on his bottom lip, uses the pained gasp it earns him to lick into his mouth. 

Someone moans, but it takes Eddie running his tongue over the roof of his mouth and pushing a leg between his thighs before the sound tumbles out again and Steve recognizes his own voice. They only break apart when they run out of air, both flushed and struggling for breath. 

And that is when the door to the roof slams open and Lord Carver and his men push through. 

“He went this way! Seize him!”

Eddie lets out an annoyed huff and leans in for one last peck against Steve’s lips. 

“Sorry, darling. Gotta go, y'know how it is. See you next time.” 

He steps out of his space and the night air hits Steve like a bucket of ice water. Eddie winks at him and steps over the edge of the roof. 

By the time Carver and his guards arrive, the night has long swallowed him.

Part 2

All my holiday drabbles

[katyswrites]

put on your records (and regret me)

PART 1 | SERIES

Pairing: Steve Harrington/fem!reader

Warnings: asshole!Steve, rivals-to-lovers, swearing, alcohol references, no use of y/n

Wordcount: 2.5k

Playlist

You love WAMC-Hawkins, Indiana’s top college radio station. It’s your safe space, your niche. It’s where you’ve made your friends, your favorite place to be when the rest of the world gets to be just a bit too much. Well, with one exception.

Steve Harrington is a thorn in your side. And just as well - he thinks you’re a royal pain in the ass. But in your senior year, you’re both on the e-board, so you have to work together. You love to hate him. So why can’t you get him out of your head? And, why do you find yourself going to see his band, each and every weekend?

Underground basement concerts, spinning old records, and screaming matches in the vinyl library with the boy you love to hate. An enemies-to-lovers college radio station 90s AU.

TRACK 1

April 1994

“So, all votes are in?” Katie asked. Everyone in the room nodded, and you sat forward in your seat.

The current General Manager of the radio station, Katie, ran a tight ship. Still, nobody could deny that they were sad to see her leaving - graduation was claiming too many people this year. She glanced down at her clipboard, adjusting her glasses.

General Manager would be read first, you knew that - it was the closest position the station had to President, the person who ran the whole thing. And after the last three years, all signs pointed to Katie's successor being you. Most people didn’t want the job - it was pretty thankless, all on a volunteer basis, and the election is often more of a formality to the most obvious person. But, you were passionate about the radio station - you always had been. Running it wouldn’t be easy, but you knew you were the right person to do it.

You love WAMC-Hawkins, Indiana’s top college radio station. It’s your favorite place, your niche. There’s nothing you loved more than spinning some records on-the-air, hanging out in the station lounge, and being a part of something. It’s where you’ve made your friends, easily able to bond over your love of music, making it your safe space when the rest of the world gets to be just a bit too much. Well, with one exception.

You could feel Steve Harrington’s eyes on you from where he sat across the room. You pointedly ignored him, your clasped fingers growing clammy with anticipation.

“Drumroll, everyone!” she said, resulting in a cacophony of pats against legs, tables, or any available surface. When Katie read your name, the room broke into a smattering of applause.

“Congratulations!” Nancy cried from where she sat next to you, throwing her arms around your shoulders.

“Thanks,” you laughed, giving your friend a tight squeeze. 

Despite the fact that you had expected this, a wave of relief washed over you. There was no glamor in keeping this place running, you knew that. Still, you cared too much about it, and now it was in your hands… just as you had hoped.

Your joy could only last so long, though - you were almost too caught up in your personal celebration to notice. Almost.

“Okay, and for Program Director… Steve!”

This time, a few whoops and hollers were let out - probably from Steve’s buddies, large in number and often loudly enthusiastic. But, you were just frozen, feeling your fists clench.

The Program Director coordinates a lot of things - new DJ training, events, stocking the music library… and works most closely with the General Manager. Meaning...

“Looks like we’re gonna be spending a lot of time together, sweetheart,” he said later with a smirk. 

The meeting was long over - positions had been announced, congratulations given, goodbyes for the semester bid on the way out. You had sat there for the last hour with a rage steadily bubbling under the surface. You had tried your best to listen, relieved to find out Nancy was working as the Media Director, and your friend Eddie working as the Training Director. That, at least, offered some comfort - if you’d be running your favorite place with your friends, how bad could it be?

The answer, apparently, is still pretty shitty.

You can’t put a finger on exactly why Steve Harrington bothered you so much. But, from the moment you had met, he had been a thorn in your side. He knew it, too - it seemed to be his life’s mission to get on your nerves, just to get a rise out of you.

But he was blocking the exit, arm leaning casually against the doorframe. So, you took the approach you usually tried to - not letting him see that he was getting to you.

“Looks like it,” you said, words measured and careful. “But until then… have a good summer, Harirngton.”

You tried to shoulder past him, but he wasn’t budging. You sighed, meeting his gaze again and straightening up a bit.

“Do you mind?”

“I just thought you were gonna try to stick around - let me guess, you already have a 20-step plan for what we should do next year? I mean, I’m surprised you didn’t just jump all the new E-Board members to tell them how you’re going to run things. You know, in your insane and anal-retentive way.”

You clenched your jaw, grimacing as the notebook that you knew was buried in your backpack, containing your ideas for next year’s agenda.

"That's a pretty big word for you, I'm impressed," you mocked. Before he could come up with a clever reply, you continued:

“You know, I was surprised you ran for a position,” you said sweetly. “I mean, last I checked, you haven’t shown up to a single volunteer event. Were you even at the Spring fundraiser?”

“I was busy.”

“Funny way of saying hungover,” you retorted.

You took a deep breath, taking a moment to regain your composure.

“Look, we’re going to have to work together, so - can we just start over? Bury the hatchet, or whatever?”

He just grinned.

“Yeah, sure thing, sweetheart,” he said, voice lower. “You’re the boss.”

You had given up on asking him to drop the sweetheart thing long ago. So instead, you gave him a sharp nod, muttering have a good summer, Harrington.

He stepped aside enough to let you through, but still crowded the doorway enough that you had to brush past him as you did. 

You ignored the way his breath caught as you did.

Maybe you could both be mature adults about this… maybe.

*******

September

“Harrington?!” You cry, stomping into the booth. Steve sits in the chair, switchboard alight as Head Over Heels plays through the speakers. He barely hears you enter, thanks to the headphones he’s wearing. When you slam your hands down on the desk, he jumps in his seat.

“Jesus - the fuck are you doing here?” he cries, yanking the headphones off to let them fall around his neck.

“You booked studio space without going through me,” you say angrily.

His face shifted then, from confusion to smugness.

“Oh - well, you were unreachable, and I only needed two board members’ approval. And, I count as a board member.”

“Who the fuck was the second person who approved it?”

“Eddie.”

You groaned. Of course - Eddie probably didn’t even know -

“So your band just happened to book studio space to go on-air during my show’s time slot?”

“Oh… it’s during your show?” he asks, voice saccharine with feigned innocence. 

You rolled your eyes.

“Cut the act, Harrington. There are a ton of empty time slots that your little band could play during, you know.”

He sighed, crossing his arms and spinning the chair around to fully face you.

“If you’re so hurt about it, why don’t you come by? We need an emcee, and if you’re already usually here…”

“As if I’d waste my time coming to listen to you guys. I don’t even listen to your show.”

“So you’ve said. I thought your boyfriend was in the band too, last time I checked.”

You scoffed. “Eddie is not my boyfriend. And, not that he’d ever tell you, but he’s filling in as a favor. He’s only playing with you guys because Corroded Coffin broke up.”

Something unreadable flickers across Steve’s face, then he shakes his head. 

“Yeah, okay - keep telling yourself that, sweetheart. But, we’ve got the time next Thursday - so, come by, don’t come by… I don’t give a shit. Just let me know by the weekend if you are - it’s only protocol, after all, and I know you’re a stickler for that.”

He pulls the headphones back over his ears, turning the volume of the music up a bit.

“Now, if you don’t mind - I’m about to go on-air, and I’d hate for everyone to hear your hissy-fit through the radio waves, you know?”

He returns his attention to the microphone, ready to turn down the music and start speaking - but you’re not giving him the satisfaction of sticking around to watch. 

You just huff, crossing your arms and stomping out with even more fury than you came.

Your drive home is full of frustration that grows to rage. You grumble under your breath over the hum of the radio, cursing Steve Harrington’s name at every red light, every sharp turn. It’s only when you pull up to your apartment and park that you realize what’s even playing through the car’s speakers.

It’s WAMC - what else would you have on? You always have your radio tuned to 98.9, doing your best to listen to your friends and support the station you hold so dearly. But, of course, the person on the air right now is him.

You had taken a personal vow a while ago to not tune into Steve’s show. You know it’s stupid - one listener doesn’t make a difference, and you know Steve Harrington certainly doesn't have trouble sleeping at night knowing that you don’t listen to whatever crappy music he plays over the air. But, he’s driving you crazy - he’s so arrogant, so smug, and everyone else eats it up. Nobody dislikes Steve Harrington… it seems like everyone on campus who knows Steve either is in love with him, or wants to be him. You’ll never understand the hold he has over people. 

But, maybe you should try to - it’s only fair to get a sense of what all the fuss is about, you reason. So, you turn up the volume dial, letting the music flow through the stereo and over the din of your still-running engine.

It’s about what you expect - mostly Top 40 hits, some classic rock sprinkled in. It’s not bad, necessarily - just, like nearly any other station you could tune your radio to. It’s not a hard and fast rule to play lesser-known music - it’s just encouraged. But, everyone tunes into Steve’s show, ask him for advice on how to plan a slot… it makes your blood boil.

You tell yourself that you’re only going to listen for a few minutes. When Steve’s voice comes on the air, you roll your eyes - he’s cracking jokes, giving anecdotes about the songs, and unfortunately, he’s nearly charming. You don’t realize a full hour has passed until he signs off. You quickly kill your engine and dart into your apartment, doing your best to try not to dwell on the slight disappointment in the show being over.

Double-booking your radio slot was only the most recent of a string of things Steve had been doing to piss you off - showing up late to meetings (if he even shows up at all), calling out of his radio show, making snide remarks under his breath at the meetings he does show up to… you’re basically doing two jobs at once. Any false promise of civility between you two is a thing of the past. He’s making your life a living Hell - but, you’re not one to back down. Two can play dirty, after all.

******

October

You and Steve spend the next few weeks doing a delicate dance, going back and forth not-so-subtly sabotaging one another. His band tried to book a gig at the local venue, which you conveniently “forgot” to sign off on. He tells incoming freshmen that they don’t need to go through you when applying to be a DJ, causing an enrollment nightmare. You pay Jonathan Byers $20 for the equipment to “break,” only for the two hours that Steve is scheduled to do his radio show. But, throughout it all, you barely actually see one another. It’s nearly a month later that you actually encounter him again.

The moment you set foot in the vinyl library, you groan. He looks up from where he’s perusing the records on the shelves, grinning as soon as he locks eyes with you.

“Fancy seeing you here, sweetheart.”

Fuck off, you think.

“Hey, Harrington,” you say, exhibiting what you consider to be an exorbitant amount of restraint. After your blowup last time, the last thing you need is to continue to give him the satisfaction of having the upper hand.

You march straight ahead, going right to the shelf next to him. You pointedly stare forward, running your fingers along the spines of the albums, pulling out the ones you’re looking for as you find them.

You hear Steve scoff next to you, and you roll your eyes - practically an involuntary response with him at this point. 

“Do you have a problem?” you asked, your tone biting.

He just shrugs. “No. You’re just… predictable.”

“How so?”

“If you asked me to come in here, and pick out the records for your radio show for you… it’d just be too easy. Let me guess… The Smiths… Talking Heads… R.E.M…Sonic Youth…and some European band whose name I can’t pronounce, probably. Am I close?”

You clutched the records close to your chest, arms crossing to obscure them.

Steve just grins smugly.

You hold your place, not breaking eye contact. He simply shrugs, tongue pushed to the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing.

Pleased with himself. Too cocky. A challenge. 

“That’s what I thought.”

You straightened up, keeping eye contact.

“You act as if you’re any better, with your Worst 40 bullshit -”

“You only pretend to not like it to be different -”

“I don’t pretend to not like your music! I’m just trying to make us sound different from any other station people tune into -”

“So you do listen to my show?” he asks. He’s still wearing that shit-eating grin, but for just a moment, you swear he sounds surprised.

You open and close your mouth a few times, debating what to say. You’ve been caught. And he’s just staring at you, so blatantly self-satisfied, that you want to punch him.

“Shut up,” you say quietly.

“You gonna make me?” he asks.

You feel your face heat. The vinyl library is too cramped, its narrow walls making Steve stand just a bit too close to you. You swallow, straightening up a bit. He’s blocking the only exit, a habit he seems to reserve especially for you.

“Can you let me leave, Harrington? Or do I have to answer a riddle or something first?”

“I’m having a party on Friday,” he blurts out. “You should stop by. Everyone else from the station is coming.”

You shake your head. 

“Um - I don’t think -”

“C’mon, sweetheart - show me that you know how to have a little fun!”

You shrug.

“Maybe. Whatever, I’ll see.”

He grins. “Okay - 36 Hamilton Street, by the way. Friday night, 10pm.”

Then he’s gone, leaving you alone in the darkness of the record library. You try to ignore how fast your heart is beating in his wake.

Fucking Steve Harrington.

author's note: Hi everyone! Here's the first part of a brand new fic - ta da! In general, I think the plan for this fic is to have shorter chapters, but more total chapters, so the word count will be... whatever it ends up being. Keep in mind that there will be smut down the line, so only engage is 18+, please. Likes, replies, and reblogs are always appreciated! Also, this was barely edited, so if you see a mistake... no you didn't.

[monty-glasses-roxy]

For reals tough, New Management AU off the back of the actual manager of the Plex literally unleashing hell out of accidental spite would be weirdly interesting?? It's not a sudden shift in power. It's some poor underpaid uni student having to go up to the animatronic stimming by chewing through metal pipes on the roof of the salon to ask if the techs can have permission to clean Chica's shell after a food fight.

A bunch of employees begging this guy to answer their questions or just use their fucking authority for once so they can do their job, and all they get is "I dunno. Go ask her. Yeah the animatronic that just yeeted a staffbot halfway across the atrium. Yeah that one." It's Roxy asking why the fuck they're asking her about employee snack benefits or if they can get more spare parts in, this is literally management's job, she's not allowed to arrange that shit and she wouldn't know how to anyway. She's asking Cassie's dad to find out what's up, being forced to step up, but finding it immensely fun to do so for a while, and quickly finding she doesn't know what the fuck she's doing, please help.

Eventually gets so sick of just keeping things going how the current manager usually does things and says "FUCK IT!! MY CITY NOW!" She doesn't even have to do that! She can be doing things her own way from the moment she realises that this weird problem isn't going away on its own and actually gets involved with it!

This way, you have a gradual shift of power, not just from the managers of various areas to the animatronics, but the the managers to Roxy, and then from Roxy to the others. The CEO, the board members, no one outside of the Plex knows this is happening. Roxy helps with one problem, then another, then another and another. Staff slowly stop going to the manager for problems, Roxy gradually starts sharing out this power, conditions start to improve and human staff are respecting her and the other animatronics as authority figures more and more. To really hammer this home, Roxy walks into the official managers office and starts pushing for some changes, only for the manager to just sorta nod like "yeah sure go for it."

He's just their customer complaints guy now. And their middle ground between the higher ups - that don't know about the power shift at all - and themselves.

It's now a game of Roxy trying to figure out how much she can get away with until she's stopped and then no one ever stopping her, endlessly confusing her over this newfound power. That she didn't fucking want. She's got enough on her plate man she didn't need this too leave her alone :(

[padawansuggest]

Took a shower (thank the lord right) and accidentally created a new AU in my noggin be warned this one is super wild. Includes: Baby-Wan and ouchies and time travel

Obi-Wan goes back in time (whatever maybe he did it himself maybe someone did it to him maybe he did it on accident but it’s post ANH okay) and suddenly finds himself in his toddler body.

You know what his first thought is? Cody. And absolute grief because his soulmate HAD been there in the force with him but now he’s gone. So what does Cody make him think of? Jango. Which means he’s all ughhhhhhhhh I have to go save him, and manages to mindcontrol some guy into getting him off planet. So here he is four whole years old with all the adult emotions trapped in a baby body what can go wrong??? Pirates. Obviously.

Frankly the only reason he doesn’t feel bad about the guy he mind controlled cause he was already gonna end up here so. Whoops.

So who manages to find them of all the damn people? Jaster’s entire ship headed to Korda Six (yes I’m going there the force said ‘I’m gonna give the gays everything they want’ and started with a happy baby’) but having been waylaid by a sudden four year old WITH A KNIFE AND FERAL STUPIDITY on the bridge. He says his name is Cody, he cut Montrose on his calve and it IS gonna require surgery and he bites everyone. Especially Jango. Who is only ten and crying because an ik’aad bit him and Jaster is very torn between giving Jango kisses for his ouchie and helping catch the toddler that knows how to escape through vents and is staging a one toddler zero men mutiny and is loudly telling everyone he’s going to the Jedi.

Maybe he’s possessed. Maybe they can just take him to the Jetii for a quick exorcism and play blaster-armor-saber for who gets the honor of adopting his feral ass.

Till they come across a pirate ship beating up a stranded ship and that’s just not nice so well shit they gotta save them.

Which is how they end up with a traumatized Captain and a stowaway toddler who’s demanding to see Jango once he realizes what ship he’s on. Jango is grumpily dragged in to see him, gets baby attached to his chest (listen he is so over babies now you can let go anytime he’s not interested in getting bit again) and then the vent to the medical room and a feral toddler with a knife comes flying out and demands to get his love back right this fucking instant.

Jaster finally gets a hold of him, disarms him, and puts him in time out before asking who taught him that word that’s not an ad’ika word!

Cody, repentant because adult emotions in a baby body fills you up so much, cries and asks for cuddles. Jaster gives him cuddles before putting in on a cot with Obi-Wan who promptly forgets Jango exists and gives Cody shy baby kisses and holds his hand. Jango is relieved to not be the center of attention for a moment. Till Jaster promptly realizes no one told Obi-Wan who Jango is, why did Obi ask for him?? Obi says he’s a Jetii master trapped in a baby’s body.

Yeah so possession it is. They call up the Jetii and ask if they can come over for exorcisms n chill, the Jetii say they can give them one better can you plz pick up some stranded Jetii along the way? Don’t worry they can assess the situation and see if they need to come in for it. It’s Master Windu and Padawan Billaba! What a surprise! Obi had no idea this could be so easy!

Anyways. So he’s having trouble talking because let’s just say I’ve decided so, so he sorta throws his mental shields down and starts projecting at people, which along with giving EVERYONE a headache, instead of just Mace for once, gives the force the chance to snap a BUNCH of bonds in place. Like a master-apprentice bond with Mace. And vod’e bonds with Depa and Jango. And a Buir bond with Jaster. And a full fledged soulmate bond with Cody.

Anyways. Mace thinks he’s decided three things: he’s gotta (not wants to, but has to) get the senate to let them make an outpost in Mandalorian space so him and Obi can be with Obi’s new dad and family, he does NOT want to be a council member anymore because this is a fucking mess that’s gonna turn into a 6 day meeting for them, and yes, they need to go to the temple.

Anyways. Make Cody a small child and give him a knife is my solution to a lot of things actually.

[chiriwritesstuff]

The New Girl in Tinseltown - Chapter 2 - Devil's Advocate

A Dieter Bravo x Actress! Reader PR Marriage AU

Previous Chapter │ Series Masterlist │ Next Chapter

Chapter Rating: E (18+, MDNI)

Chapter Summary: A look into Dieter's point of view at the night of our fated trip to Vegas. How does America's favorite Bad Boy™ end up married to America's New Sweetheart™?

Chapter Warnings and Tags: (Not So) meet cute, PR Relationships, what happens in Vegas ends up in the headlines, Dieter just does not give a FUCK, Smut, SO MUCH SMUT, a look at the inner workings of Tinseltown and the sleaziness it comes with, Dry Humping, A hell of a lot of dirty banter, is that yearning?, mentions of devious deeds by sleazy people in show business, our loverboy makes a 'Pride and Prejudice reference, SLOW BURN WE DONT KNOW IT, this is unhinged, no use of y/n, No beta we die like men!

Word Count: 8K (whoops!)

A/N: I know, I know, I KNOW. I promised the release of this chapter weeks ago, but I got struck by the not-covid-but-felt-like-covid virus and managed to get myself into the biggest writing slump. I really do apologize for that, and I want to give a big thank you to everyone who stuck around and showed and shared love and support for the first chapter and this series! I can confidently say that the writing slump has finally passed, and we can finally get this crazy show on the road...

An (almost) year before that night in Vegas.

“Dieter, I'm expecting you to be on your best behavior tonight."

Dieter scowls at his publicist while his groomer diligently applies yet another round of pomade in an attempt to tame his unruly curls. "Define best behavior."

"They're about to launch a new girl into the circuit, some unknown that the studio thinks will become the next girl next door," his publicist responds, tapping away at his MacBook. "She's a genuinely sweet thing, all doe-eyed and untouched by the suits. Apparently, she's so sweet that Feldman-"

“Let me guess,” Dieter deadpans, "Feldman wants to fuck her," he rolls his eyes at that, slightly curious at the prospect of fresh blood. "Why am I not surprised?"

"That's not the best part," his publicist quips, his eyes locking with Dieter's over the rim of his laptop. "The studio wants to protect their asset, so much so that they hired-"

"No fucking way, they hired the Shark for this broad? What? Does she have beer-flavored nipples or something?" Dieter exclaims, his curiosity piqued. "Is she really that sweet?"

His publicist's mouth quirks into a small smirk. "The sweetest, most fucking forbidden fruit, my friend. So sweet that the Shark doesn't want you within ten feet of his client."

"Oh yeah?" Dieter replies, his eyes raised.

"Hell yeah. He tried to corner me earlier, warning me to keep my client's - and I quote - Dirty fucking paws off of his Doll-"

"Doll, huh? I bet I could tap that," Dieter challenges, his chest puffed out.

Dieter's publicist chuckles to himself, shaking his head. "Dieter, I know you believe you're God's gift to the masses, but trust me, this Doll? She's a bit out of your league."

Dieter leans back in his chair, a sly grin forming on his face. "Out of my league, huh? That just makes it more interesting. The thrill of the chase, my friend."

His publicist raises an eyebrow, skeptical. "Dieter, I've seen you chase plenty, but this Doll is different. She's not like the others. There's an innocence about her that even your charm might struggle to crack."

Dieter smirks, undeterred. "Well, we'll see about that. The forbidden fruit always tastes the sweetest, doesn't it?"

The publicist lets out a resigned sigh. "Just remember, Dieter, not every fruit is meant to be plucked."

"What is this event even for?" Dieter counters, appraising himself as his stylist smooths the fabric of his suit, a deep emerald green number with a crisp obsidian button-down. He pouts at the mirror, glancing at his publicist and his agent behind him. "It's not the Nickelodeon Kids Choice Awards again, is it?"

"Why? So you could be caught doing blow off a toilet bowl seat like last year? I'm still doing damage control for that, you know," his agent deadpans. "You're in luck; it's the MTV Movie Awards-"

"... and this is Doll's debut, huh? Is she up for an award or something?"

"Several, actually. Surprisingly, her last film gained quite the following-"

"... let me guess, it's some rom-com," Dieter interjects, a hint of disinterest in his tone. "What are the categories?"

"Three, to be exact." His agent smirks into his cognac. "Best Female Lead, Female Breakout Star, and Best Kiss-"

"Best Kiss? Seriously?" Dieter retorts incredulously, his eyes widening. "What's the name of her movie? I might need to see it for myself-"

"Dieter, level with me. Are you gonna keep your dirty fucking paws off of the Shark's asset?" his publicist sighs, giving him a stern look. "As much as I want to shove my foot up his fucking ass, I don't have the energy to have him breathing down my back the entire fucking night-" he looks off into Dieter's direction, who is currently on your Wikipedia page. He frowns. "Dieter, do you hear me?"

"What?" Dieter snaps, slamming his phone onto his seat.

"Can you manage to be on your best behavior tonight? Stay clear of-"

"No. I mean, sure, fine, whatever-" Dieter interrupts, his tone dismissive.

"Dieter-"

"I heard you! I promise to stay away from her, but the real question is, are you able to keep her away from me?" He smirked, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

The (not-so meet cute) at the MTV Movie Awards.

"Dieter!" you shout, hastily making your way toward him, clearly a few drinks in. "Surprised to see you here!" you shout excitedly, a little wobble in your step as you approach him. 

You adorn a sleek silver gown, your hair elegantly swept to one side, and your radiant face contrasting vividly with the venue's intense lights. Dieter finds himself momentarily breathless as he gazes at you, captivated by your ethereal presence, akin to an angel descending into the depths of hell. "Fuck me," he murmurs under his breath as you draw near, the collar around his neck suddenly feeling constrictive as he nervously swallows. "What the hell? I never get nervous around women," he mutters to himself, his eyes tracing the entirety of your figure. His pants grow notably tighter, his attention fixated on the hypnotic sway of your hips.

He greets you with a nervous smile as you come face to face, tenderly planting a kiss on your cheek. His eyes close momentarily as he savors your delicate scent, a sensation that electrifies his chest and courses through his veins, prompting his hands to instinctively caress the back of your head as he subtly tries to capture another whiff. A subtle sense of pride swells within him as he notices the blush unexpectedly blooming across your skin, its warmth cascading down your cleavage.

Forbidden fucking fruit indeed. 

"Doll," he attempts to say smoothly, a hint of nervousness lacing his voice. "I've heard so much about you. Congrats on your wins tonight; they're truly well-deserved!"

"Really?" you suddenly squeal, and Dieter feels like he could get lost in your energy. It's pure, sweet, and so inherently innocent—the childlike wonder of being thrust into the limelight, untarnished by the sleazy underbelly of Hollywood. He can't help but internally frown, foreseeing the inevitable vultures in suits trying to get a piece of you. Their insatiable hunger for new, sweet flesh is something he knows all too well.

"Well, yeah, Doll, you killed it, as expected. Winning tonight and sweeping all your nominations was a given," he muses, casually leaning against his chair. As he leans towards you, a subconscious desire prompts him to take another whiff of your perfume, desperately trying to commit its essence to memory amid the haze of his coke-induced high. He can't resist burying his nose in your hair, eyes closing as he takes you in once more. 

"Dieter-" you question his sudden boldness, a nervous chuckle escaping you. 

"I'm sorry, baby-" he moans into your neck, his hands traveling down the length of your back. "You must tell me what the name of your perfume is, its divine-"

"Oh," you laugh as Dieter pulls you into him tighter, groaning as his hands travel dangerously close down your hips. "It's 'Missing Person' by-"

"Doll," a voice emerges from behind the two of you, accompanied by a stern clearing of someone's throat. Dieter's expression darkens as he recognizes the owner of the voice, but not before planting one final teasing kiss against your throat. With a smirk playing on his lips, he straightens up and turns to confront the perpetually annoyed yet annoyingly handsome face of the man Hollywood dubs 'The Shark'- also known as the most ruthless of publicists in all of Tinseltown, protecting his clients with an iron fist so strong no one ever thinks of crossing him.

Unless they wanted a cease and desist letter shoved so far up their assholes... without any fucking lube.   

Dieter gets it, though. If he were in his shoes and he had a client like you? All sweet and pure with the face of an angel but a body curated by the Devil himself?

Well, he would fuck your brains out and make you forget your name first, but that's beside the point. The point is, he gets it, he really fucking does.  

"Well well well," Dieter croons as he holds his hand up towards your publicist. "It's been a long time, Shark. Tell me, did you have to call ahead to make sure that some poor bloke's mangled testicles made it onto your plate for tonight, or did you rip someone's balls off fresh on-site?" he snarks with the raise of his eyebrow, shaking his head as your publicist stares at his outstretched hand in greeting. Dieter scoffs as he retreats his hand, placing it on his hip.  

"Bravo," Your publicist grits through clenched teeth as he tries to appear as unbothered as possible. "Aren't you a little old to be here tonight? The rumors aren't true, you know. Fucking girls close to half your age doesn't keep you young, but I suppose it makes sense, considering a woman your age would know better-"

"Shark, I won't tolerate you talking like that in the presence of an actual earth-bound angel. Just because she's young doesn't mean she doesn't know right from wrong-" Dieter retorts, flashing you a smoldering smile. "... you know how to handle yourself, don't you, Doll? You don't need some uptight prick telling you what you can and cannot do, right?" he winks, a slight puff to his chest.

You visibly shiver at his cheeky insinuation, nodding. "Right," you breathe, taking a hasty gulp of your champagne. "I'm 29 years old, I don't need you defending my 'honor' like I'm some virginal maiden-"

"Well, when my client has far too many drinks in her and doesn't understand the kind of man she's in the presence of-"

"The Devil, right?" Dieter exclaims, pointing to himself. "A no-good washed-up actor who fucks anything with two legs while high off my rocker, who just so happens to be good at what I do with the Oscar in my shitter to prove it? Don't you think she knows all of this? My bare ass isn't on the front page of TMZ weekly because I'm a nobody, baby."

"Oh my god, Dieter," you gush, clapping your hands together. "I loved you in-"

"Doll," your publicist interrupts, a firm hand on your shoulder. "You have that meeting with Favreau at the Beverley Hills in 30 minutes. As much as we would love to stay and chat... we have our jobs to get to, right Doll?" your publicist says to you sweetly, his hand grazing your arm. He clears his throat, nodding at Dieter. "Bravo, it was stimulating, as always," he deadpans with a hint of finality, pulling on your elbow like a lost puppy on a leash. Dieter swallows as he witnesses your light dimming from your face, a small frown on your face as you try to remain cordial, a fake smile etched on your face.  

"It was nice meeting you, Dieter," you almost whisper, pulling him into one last hug. "... maybe we'll just run into each other again soon?" You quickly whisper in his ear, and the thought of the two of you meeting up in secret thrills him to no end. His dick certainly twitches at the prospect. 

Dieter takes one last whiff of your scent, his eyes closing as he wills the time to stand still, not wanting to lose the warmth radiating from your aura. He presses one last kiss on your cheek, his fingers caressing the spot as he gives you a genuine smile.  

"... it wouldn't be soon enough, baby."

He gives The Shark one last salute, flipping him off once his back is toward him. “Fucking asshole cockblock,” he mutters to himself, patting his suit pocket for his little baggie of E. He pinches the baggie between his fingers, looking at its contents in silent contemplation.  I guess if I can't get the girl, at least I can get the high, right?

The morning after.

Dieter is face down on his sofa in his boxers and his robe, groaning from the after-effects of his debauchery just a few hours before. As if his skull is splitting into two, he winces as he turns himself onto his back, staring aimlessly into his ceiling as his iPhone suddenly starts to go off from under him.

Sighing, he blindly reaches for his phone, one eye open as he squints into the tiny, shattered screen.

TMZ NEWS FLASH! Up-and-coming Actress who swept MTV awards show last night being groped by Resident Playboy Dieter Bravo? Her publicist sweeps in to save our New "It" Girl in Tinseltown from the grasp of the Devil himself-

Dieter scoffs as he swipes the notification away, his eyes scanning the next headline.

AP NEWS ALERT: Dieter Bravo seen kissing Rising Actress at MTV Movie Awards last night, is a new romance brewing between the Fresh-Faced Actress and Playboy Lothario Dieter Bravo?

"Dieter," his publicist groans as he walks into the room, picking up a crumpled pair of boxer briefs off the sofa, and throws himself on it, pinching the space between his eyebrows as he shakes his head. "What the hell did I tell you? Stay away from The Shark's client, don't grope her in front of him! Can't you just listen to me for once?"

"It was innocent! I kept my hands at a respectable distance from her ass," Dieter retorts, throwing his phone across the room. "I didn't even make a move—"

"That's not the point, Dieter!" his publicist spits back, pulling out his phone. "Do you realize how much this guy despises you? I'm good at my job, but The Shark? I can't go against a god—"

"You're making him out to be some untouchable—"

"...because he is untouchable, Dieter! Do you even know he's buddies with Feldman? After learning about your stunt last night, he's considering pulling you from the project."

"Please," Dieter scoffs, rolling his eyes. "They need me more than I need them! I'm practically doing them a favor, signing on to this fucking movie. They're not going to pull Dieter Bravo from a sinking ship! It's just scare tactics!"

"Yeah, well, you know what they say. The pussy is stronger than god, right?" his publicist replies, scrolling through his phone. "Feldman didn't appreciate your hands on his girl, and now he's out for blood. I warned you about this, D. Is some girl worth losing a multi-million dollar contract? Do you want to go back to doing 'surprise guest star' roles on cable TV? I heard they're thinking of rebooting 'Suits', it might be a good fit for you-"

"So what do I need to do then?" Dieter fires back, a joint between his lips. "I assume I'll be needing to make a public statement or some shit? Keep the old bastard happy?"

"It's funny you mention that D. I have an email from The Shark himself, with a list of what he wants you to say in your statement, promising he'll back the fuck off if you promise to not go within ten feet of his asset-"

"Have you ever heard of 'Missing People' perfume?" Dieter suddenly asks, taking a hit off his joint, his eyes following the thick plume of smoke as he leans back into the sofa. "Missing... Woman?" he mumbles to himself absentmindedly, licking his lips. "Fuck, what did she say it was? I need to stop going to these things blitzed out of my fucking mind-"

"Dieter, focus. Are we releasing the statement or not?"

"MARCUS!" Dieter calls out for his PA suddenly, ignoring his publicist as he grabs the phone out of his hands. "MARCUS! I NEED YOU!"

"Yes D?" Marcus responds as he rushes into the living room, pulling a fresh pack of Kitkat out of his back pocket. "Did you need a snack?"

"Have you ever heard of 'Missing Someone' perfume?" he asks once more as he pulls up the Safari app on his publicist's phone.  

"You mean 'Missing Person' by Phlur?" Marcus quips, picking up the stray pieces of discarded clothing strewn randomly around the room. “One of my favorite actresses just became the spokesperson for that perfume, swears by it-“ 

“Missing PERSON, that’s what it was!” Dieter shouts, tossing his publicist's phone back at him. “Marcus, you’re a fucking godsend! I knew there was a reason why I kept you around! Could you do me a small favor?”

"What do you need, D?" Marcus asks eagerly, his hand perched on his hip. 

"I need you to buy me 'Missing People'. A couple of bottles, at least."

"How many is a couple?" Marcus asks with a nervous chuckle. "Five? Are you giving these out as gifts or something?"

"Maybe I could call Chriselle, and tell her you're interested in the company, there are more scents suitable for men, D," his publicist says casually, pulling out his laptop from his messenger bag. "I ran into her at Erewhon the other day, she's a big fan of your work, and couldn't stop talking about Cliff Beasts... Now, about that statement-"

"Fuck asking, just go to Neimans or Sephora or something and buy out their entire stock. Lotions and body wash and candles if it comes in that scent, too, Marcus. Go to all of the fucking Sephoras if you need to."

"... the entire stock? D, what is this for?"

"Do I pay you to ask all of these fucking questions? Don't worry about what I'm going to do with it. Just get it in my hands by the end of the day, do you think you could swing that?"

"... yes?"

Dieter takes another drag out of his joint, nodding aimlessly. "Great. Also, stop by Blicks on your way back. I need an entire arsenal and the biggest canvas they have. New brushes, too! Set up my studio and put the 'Missing People' in my bathroom, and I'll want my usual In n Out order, too."

Flustered, Marcus pulls out his phone and starts typing Dieter's requests on his notes app. Running a nervous hand through his hair, he looks at his boss once more. "Anything else?"

"Yeah. Get the fuck out of my face and get to work, Marcus. Chop Chop!"

His assistant nods and scrambles out of the living room, tripping on the corner of the area rug on his way out. Dieter's publicist raises his eyebrow at the display, shaking his head as he types away on his laptop. "You know, you could be nicer to him, D. He tries hard to cater to your every fucking whim and fancy... now, are we gonna release that fucking statement or not?"

"What statement?" Dieter asks absentmindedly as he pulls out a small baggie from his robe pocket.  

"The one where you say that you had a little too much to drink and that you didn't mean anything by groping Doll at the Movie Awards, and that you're really sorry and will be donating a couple thousand to a women's shelter-"

"... and this will make The Shark happy? and Feldman off my ass?" he replies, rubbing his gums as he smiles to himself. "I'll be able to stay on the project?"

"You can start packing your bags, yes. Filming starts in a week for the next few months in Europe. It'll give this whole Movie Awards nonsense some time to blow over."

Dieter considers this for a moment. He sticks his tongue out in contemplation, coming to the unsettling realization that he hasn't been in a major studio project in the last few years. He needs this job more than they need him, and deep down, he knows this. He takes one last drag out of his joint, flicking the roach away as he turns towards his publicist.

"Release the fucking statement."

His publicist nods, fingers flying across the keyboard. "Good," he murmurs, genuine relief softening his features. "I can't handle you out of work for another month, not after the fucking pandemic... What's the deal with all that perfume, anyway?"

"What?" Dieter replies absentmindedly, scratching his beard.

"The stuff you made Marcus buy in bulk," his publicist clarifies.

"Forget the perfume. Do you still have those photos I sent you?"

"I've got them, but I haven't checked them out yet. Why?"

Dieter gestures toward the laptop. "Why don't you take a look?"

His publicist eyes him warily, opening the email. His expression shifts to shock as he glimpses the contents. "Is this—"

Dieter nods, a smirk creeping onto his face. "Yep."

"This is huge, Dieter. How did you even get these? They're screwed if this ever goes public—"

"That's why it's payback time. A little warning shot," Dieter interrupts, leaning forward eagerly. "We leak the photos. Anonymously, of course."

"Dieter," his publicist warns, "If they trace it back to you—"

"I'll take the risk. They messed with the wrong guy," Dieter scoffs, a hint of satisfaction in his voice. "These amateurs think they can get away with it?" he mutters to himself, then clears his throat. "Remember our motto?"

"Nobody fucks with Dieter Bravo."

Dieter leans back on the sofa, nodding. "That's right. Nobody fucks with Dieter Bravo."

Six Months later.

"Hi, I'm Carol Cobb!"

"... and I'm Dieter Bravo!"

"And we are doing a Wired Autocomplete Interview!"

"Alright! Is Dieter Bravo..." Carol energetically rips the first sheet of paper off her card, a playful smile spreading across her face as Dieter looks attentively at the camera. "Is Dieter Bravo dead?!" She bursts into laughter, smacking Dieter with the card, who simply shrugs. "Wow! Why would they hit us with that right out of the gate?"

"Not dead yet!" Dieter exclaims, pushing his signature glasses off his face while gazing into the camera. "Got close... several times," he adds with a pointed smirk.

"...and we are very much thankful for that!" Carol shouts. "Shall we move on to the next one?" She tears the next slip of paper, her eyes widening as she reads, “Is Dieter Bravo secretly married?!”

“Well, it wouldn’t be a secret if I spilled the beans now, would it?” Dieter smiles conspiratorially, rubbing his chin in contemplation.

“I can't imagine you ever settling down,” Carol muses with a smirk. "It seems unnatural, like going against the natural order of things, like sea animals on land. Dieter Bravo, settled down with one girl? Hell would have to freeze over before that ever happens," she teases.

"I think it could happen," Dieter says matter-of-factly, crossing his arms over his chest as he settles back into his seat.

"What could happen?" Carol asks, her curiosity piqued.

"Settling down. Getting married, perhaps... even starting a family," Dieter replies thoughtfully.

"It would take quite the woman to make 'The Great Lothario' change his ways. Seems like an impossible feat," Carol interrupts, chuckling. "A woman who can stop the great Dieter Bravo from his manwhoring ways? Maybe someone who lives under a rock and doesn't know about your reputation."

"Actually," Dieter interjects, a hint of excitement in his voice. "I think I've met someone recently who's made quite an impression on me."

Carol's eyes widen in surprise. "What do you mean, you think you've met someone? Who is this mysterious girl that's captured your attention, D?"

"Well, she's an actress-"

"Of course," Carol quips with a knowing smirk.

"... she's new. I had the pleasure of meeting her at the MTV Movie-"

"You're not talking about Doll, are you? The woman you groped after meeting her for the first time? Someone even said that they caught you sniffing her! Who does that, Dieter?!"

"I am a connoisseur of all things exquisite and beautiful, ma chérie. She smelled absolutely divine, and I swear her scent lingered on me for days after, I swear, just let me nuzzle my face in between the valley of those luscious tits-"

"God, D. I think they're gonna have to edit this shit out!" Carol mutters, looking embarrassed by Dieter's boldness. She leans towards Dieter. "I thought you signed some embargo with The Shark promising you wouldn't mention her," she whispers in his ears. "Even I wouldn't think to fuck with him-"

"Well, Feldman was my main concern, and now he's facing jail time for all of those underage claims and those leaked photos, so fuck it!" Dieter counters, knowing damn well he worked behind the scenes for it to happen, leaking a few photos he had stored away on his iCloud, kissing himself on the mouth knowing it would come in handy sooner or later.  

AP NEWS ALERT: Hollywood bigshot arrested for leaked inappropriate images from an anonymous source of various actresses, denies all allegations of misconduct.

One asshole down, one Shark to bury next, he thinks to himself, chuckling at the thought. "Besides, I can't get her out of my fucking mind! I've never felt this way about a woman before, Carol, I mean it this time!"

"I mean, she's undeniably beautiful," Carol agrees, "but she's still new to the industry. They've been typecasting her in those romcoms with whatshisname, but I've heard she's pushing for more challenging roles—"

"Cut!" The director's voice slices through the air, his eyes narrowed at them both. "This interview is about promoting Cliff Beasts, not discussing Dieter's love life with some woman."

"Hey, that 'woman'? She's my future wife, so watch your damn mouth," Dieter snaps back, his tone defensive.

"Whoa, D, hold on. Future wife? You barely know her!" Carol interjects, her hand pressed against her chest in disbelief. "Take it easy, baby. Get to know her first, at least."

"It's gonna happen, Carol. I can feel it in my damn bones. I was drawn to her the moment I laid eyes on her," Dieter insists, his confidence unwavering.

"Listen, Casanova, I don't care who you think you're gonna marry, but we're on a tight schedule here!" the director interrupts, frustration evident in his voice. "Stick to the damn questions, and no more talk about your little 'girlfriend.'"

"Fine," Dieter mutters, rolling his eyes and taking a sip of water. "But do me a favor—don't cut out the part about her assets. It'll bring in views like crazy. I did you a favor there."

The director waves him off as he storms away. "Remind me why I took this job knowing this idiot would be here," he mutters to himself, heading back behind the camera.

The day of the (not so thought out) wedding.

Dieter is anxiously bouncing his leg, biting his pinky nail as his groomer meticulously applies another layer of concealer under his darkened eyes. "Jeez D, have you been sleeping at all lately?"

"What?" Dieter asks absentmindedly, running a shaky hand through his curls. "Yeah- I've been sleeping, why?"

“Your under-eyes, D. They’re darker than my fucking soul, man. Didn’t I tell you to lay off on the sauce? I’m on my fourth layer of concealer-“

“It’s nothing,” Dieter says dismissively. “Just… have you ever been in love?” 

"Sure I have," his groomer replies, a small smile on their face. "That's why I'm married, silly. Why?"

"Say you like a girl, and you think that this girl might be interested but then TMZ posts leaked photos of said girl and some beefed up Hollywood hunk "canoodling" with each other while filming their movie together in Canada-"

"This is Doll that we're talking about, correct? The one you groped at the MTV Movie-"

"I DIDN'T GROPE HER!" Dieter exclaims, groaning as he sinks further into his seat. "Why does everyone keep saying that? I was simply giving her a friendly, yet casual hug when she APPROACHED ME-"  He huffs like a petulant child, his arms crossed around his chest in defiance. "Anyway, I thought, after I desperately tried to shoot my shot, let my intentions known in that 'Wired' Interview with Carol, that she would contact me, you know? Maybe slide into my DMs-" 

“Slide into your DMs?” His groomer scoffs, plucking a stray eyebrow hair with their tweezers from his face as he dramatically flinches, narrowing his eyes at them. “You flat out said you wanted to smother your face in the ‘valley of her luscious tits’, I would be surprised if she hasn't filed a restraining order against you yet... Let me give you a bit of advice: Girls want to be romanced, not objectified! ... have you ever had a 'real' girlfriend before, D?"

"Hey! I've had girlfriends, alright?" Dieter groans, frustration evident in his voice as he clenches his fists. "Just because they didn't stick around afterward doesn't mean it was all my fault, okay?"

"The girls you hook up with during your benders and then discard once the high wears off don't exactly qualify as 'real' girlfriends, D! Let's be serious here!"

"That's what I'm trying to be," he whines, "I'm trying SO HARD to be serious for once! I can't get this girl out of my head, and it's been what? Almost a year since I've met her? I can't get my dick hard when I'm with anyone else anymore, I don't want to take drugs, it's like I'm fucking broken or something! ... and now she's off fucking Joe Hollywood over here like I'm not bleeding my fucking heart out for her-"

"Wait, you mean to tell me that you're actually sober right now?"

"Well, yeah. The last time I took something was before filming Cliff Beasts, I thought you knew that. Anyway, it doesn't fucking matter. All of that and she doesn't even notice me."

"Well, I would tell you that if you had bothered to read TMZ this morning instead of sulking, you would know that there are split rumors between this girl and Hollywood neanderthal," His groomer retorts, a shit-eating grin on their face. "It was over before it even began. I mean, I've heard for such a massive man, he has quite the tiny di-"

Dieter perks up at that. "Say that again."

"They've broken up. She's back on the market, silly goose."

"So that means-"

"That means that I'm going to groom the shit out of you and help you out by making her realize just what she's missing out on, D." His groomer replies, massaging his scalp as they make eye contact through the mirror in front of them. "You're lucky that I consider myself a hopeless romantic. If you promise not to break her heart, I'll help you get the girl, ok?"

"Shit, do you think she'll like me?" Dieter says nervously, fidgeting in his seat.  

"Obviously," his groomer replies cryptically, a smirk forming on the corner of their mouth. "I may or may not have some intel from another groomer friend of mine about their supposed breakup."

"Oh?" Dieter perks up, his eyebrow raised in curiosity. "... and what would that intel be?"

"Oh, you know. Someone might have asked their stylist if they think you'll be attending tonight, how she kept trying to be sly about it."

"Doll asked about me?! Are you serious?" Dieter's excitement is palpable.

"Well, according to my friend, the reason why they broke up was that someone might have moaned your name while being eaten out by 'Joe Hollywood' the other day-"

"No fucking way!"

"She's into you, D! I would say that your little ploy during the 'Wired' interview worked more than you think, bud."

Dieter nods, taking the biggest sigh of relief as he settles in his chair. "One last thing, do you groom just the top half of me, or are you open to grooming other places?"

"What do you mean?" his groomer cocks their head to the side.  

"Shit, well... are you open to grooming my nether regions? It's been a while since I've been with a woman, I'm almost full caveman down there-"

His groomer tsks, pulling out their phone. "Dieter, as much as I love you, I don't love you that much. Let me call someone for that, ok?"

A few hours later, on the red carpet.

"Dieter," his publicist says under his breath as they walk down the red carpet. "The cameras are this way, why are you so distracted?"

"I'm looking for someone," Dieter replies as he winks at the sea of paparazzi, flashing them a peace sign as he walks toward the venue's entrance.

"Well, who are you looking for?" His publicist replies impatiently, looking down the red carpet.

"Doll, obviously. Do you know if she's arrived yet?"

His publicist rolls his eyes, sighing. "She arrived about five minutes ago, don't you see her?"

Dieter inhales deeply, his gaze scanning past the vibrant red carpet until it locks onto yours. His breath catches in his chest, surprised by the unexpected connection. You appear taken aback at first, but swiftly compose yourself, subtly angling your body towards him with a seductive smile playing on your lips.

"Holy Shit..." Dieter's mind races with excitement. "She really does want me."

Filled with newfound confidence, he playfully purses his lips in your direction, sending a cheeky kiss your way as his eyebrows wiggle in amusement. A flush of color blooms across your cheeks in response, catching his eye. But as he revels in the moment, he notices The Shark's gaze narrowing in his direction, a whisper passing between him and you.

That's fucking right Shark.  I'm coming for my girl, and there is nothing you can fucking do about it.  

Later, Dieter observes you from across the room as you sit at your table, alone, nursing another glass of champagne. He notices how you try to avoid meeting his gaze, despite catching you stealing glances at him throughout the night when you think he isn't looking. It surprises him to see you being so reserved, so quiet, especially without The Shark hovering around you like a protective dragon guarding its treasure.

What's gotten you so down, babydoll?  he muses, leaning back into his chair. As if you could read his thoughts, your eyes meet from across the room once more, and you quickly look away, smiling to yourself at getting caught looking.

Dieter senses the moment's significance, his heart racing with anticipation. He knows he must seize this opportunity, the perfect moment to step forward and break the barrier between the two of you. With a determined smile, he decides it's time to make his move.

As he rises from his chair, Dieter's confidence swells, fueled by the intensity of the moment. With purposeful strides, he crosses the room, his gaze fixed on you, the anticipation building with each step. This is his chance to bridge the gap, to finally reveal the feelings he's kept hidden for so long.

He draws in another deep breath as he approaches you from behind, mustering his most seductive gaze as he leans in towards your exposed ear, his warm breath grazing your skin.

"I can't help but notice that you've been eye-fucking me the entire night."

He groans softly as he takes a seat in the chair beside yours, hoping to conceal any nerves as he attempts to exude charm. "I guess my little ploy of trying to get your attention with that 'Wired' interview worked out in my favor-"

You respond with a subtle smile, your fingers gracefully tracing the edge of your champagne glass. How does something as simple as that manage to rile me up? he wonders inwardly, returning your smile.

"You know," you say softly, a chuckle escaping you as you shake your head in disbelief, "There are more normal ways to get a girl's attention-"

The longer Dieter spends in your presence, the more he feels himself on edge, the tension mounting with every passing moment. His pulse quickens, and he can't ignore the growing semi in his suit pants. It's astonishing how much you affect him, like a siren calling out for him while lost at sea, lying in wait, ready to bring him to absolute ruin. 

Fuck. Keep it cool, Bravo.

"Ah, but you're America's Sweetheart, and your pitbull of a publicist won't let me near you, I had to let my-" he gulps at the sight of your ample bust, licking his lips in anticipation, "... intentions very clearly known."

"Well," you breathe, chest heaving. "I don't know if it's 'clearly' known," your voice drops to a whisper, like a secret that is shared only between the both of you, two lonely souls amongst a sea of chaos. "I think you're just going to have to spell it out for me."

Dieter, sensing victory, leans back triumphantly, spreading his legs as he subtly encloses you within his space. His dark, smoldering gaze meets your thinly veiled attempt at your best innocent doe eyes... but Dieter sees right through it. He grins widely, reveling in the knowledge that he's the cat about to get all of the cream—your cream.  That's right, babydoll, I've finally caught you, and I'm never going to let you go.

He laughs at the sight of you, his chin motioning to your breasts.  "Do you want to have sex with me, Dollface?"

Your eyes widen, and a small gasp escapes your lips, as you search his gaze, trying to decipher if he's just bullshitting or if he's actually fucking serious.  I'm serious, alright, he chuckles to himself. "If I miscalculated this fucking thing that's going on between us, tell me and I'll fuck off, leave you alone-"

"What if I don't want you to fuck off, and want to tell you that I'm this close to being plastered and that all I kept thinking about tonight is you railing me with that huge cock we both know is aching for me in some deserted hallway-" you challenge, picking your champagne glass for good measure, downing its contents in one swig.  For courage, he thinks. "I would beg to ask you... what's taking you so damn long, Bravo?"

WhatsApp chat between Dieter & Marcus: Dieter: Hey Marcus, are you still in the venue? Marcus: Yes! With your publicist. Did you need something? Dieter: This party blows. Can I borrow your car? Marcus: Oh, did you want me to drive you home? The party just started, Dieter. Dieter: I can drive myself back, stay for the party! Catch a ride with the suits afterward! Get shitfaced, you're officially off the clock! Marcus: Seriously? Do you know how to drive a stick? It's my baby, I don't know if I feel comfortable with you driving it, are you high right now? 🤦‍♂️ Dieter: No, for the last time, I'm fucking clean, man. Just do me a solid and let me borrow your car, I swear I'll give you a fucking raise! What do you want for one night with your baby? Tell me, I'll give you anything! Marcus: Fine. Just tell me what you did with all of that fucking perfume, there"s a bet going on and I would like to shove it in your publicist's face that I know! Dieter: Seriously man? That's all you want? Marcus: Do you want my keys or not, D? Dieter: Fine. I took the fucking perfume, doused my entire bedroom in it, and fucked myself smelling it thinking about Doll. Dieter: Is that enough of an explanation for you? Come the fuck on, man, I need your car! Please! 🙏 Marcus: 🙌 Meet me at the lobby in five. 

"So tell me," Dieter shouts as he peels out of the parking lot, laughing at the delighted squeal that escapes your lips as you throw your head back, your arms raised upward as he turns quickly into the streets of Los Angeles. "How often did you think about me, babydoll?"

You boldly reach over to cup his erection, your small hand wrapping around the tip of it. "As much as I reckon you thought of me, Bravo. Tell me, how often did you come, alone in that massive bed of yours, to the thought of your cock thrusting into my tight pussy?"

"Fuck baby, do you want me to crash this car? It's not mine, you know?"

"Answer the fucking question, Bravo."

"Baby, if you only knew how much I fucking came just thinking about your tits... I don't think you know just what exactly you got yourself into, little girl... but I'll show you just how I thought of you coming on my fat cock, giving me absolutely everything-"

I've been hungry for you, baby, and I'm going to feast on every inch of your body, just you fucking wait-

He cackles like a madman as he peels into the dwindling streets of LA. "Are you hungry, Dollface?" he yells, almost running a red light, his eyes fixed on the glowing In n Out sign in the distance.

"I shouldn't, I have that screen test next week-"

"Fuck the screen test!" he shouts. "The night is young, and you are gorgeous. Let Dieter take care of you, baby... while I still have you in my grasp. I ain't gonna waste a moment I have you in my orbit!"

He pulls into the In n Out parking lot, cutting the engine, and pulls you into his lap, his face immediately diving into the valley between your breasts. "You can suffocate me with these tits and I would die a happy man," he mumbles against your skin, his growl reverberating throughout your entire body like wildfire. "What do you say, Doll? Would you do me the honors?"

"Fuck Dieter," you moan, tipping your head back in pleasure as his tongue teases the edge of your dress covering your breasts. "Grab my tits," you beg, grabbing his hands for good measure. Dieter wastes no time as he grabs the back of your head, pulling you into a kiss, his tongue licking along the seam of your mouth, begging for entrance.  

"Open up for me, baby girl. Let Dieter taste you-" he pleads, and you pull away with him, your hair wrecked and lipstick smeared. Dieter imagines he looks as wrecked as you do, his pupils blown and chest heaving. You pull him into another kiss, sighing into it, your mouth opening slightly. Dieter takes this as a sign to devour you completely, your tongues fighting for dominance as you begin to rock your hot pussy against his thick cock.

"I want to ride you into the sunset, D," you whisper, pulling at his curls harshly. "Are you gonna give me what I want? Or am I going to have to find someone else to do it?"

"Fuck-" Dieter pants, his gaze reaching yours, his mouth agape in awe. "How in the fuck did I get so fucking lucky-"

"Grab my tits, D," you ask once more, moaning and throwing your head back, biting your lower lip as you grind on his throbbing erection. Dieter quickly obliges, his large hands engulfing both of your breasts. His fingertips graze the edge of your dress, the hardness of your nipple pressing into the middle of his palm, and he swears that if he were to be struck down dead right at this moment, he would die a happy man.  

"Shit, I knew that your tits would feel amazing, but you are so fucking soft-"

"Oh yeah?" you tease, your teeth grazing the shell of his ear. "I'm soft in other places, too." You whisper in his ear, and he swears he feels the ghost of your smile as he moves his hands back on your hips, his fingertips squeezing the softness of your ass as he angles his dick where he imagines your clit to be, thrusting into your hot, wet heat. "Fuck, so goddamn soft-" he groans, his tongue licking a wet stripe along the tops of your breasts. "You're fucking everything I never knew I always wanted, baby girl," he praises you honestly, cupping your cheek as he pulls you into another kiss, groaning as your tongue dances with his, leaving him breathless.  

"Am I?" you pant as you wrap your arms around his neck, your pussy dragging along the thick outline of his cock. "You talk like you want to marry me or something-"

"... oh, but I do want to marry you, breed you, keep you locked up in my mansion... you have no idea just how much I've thought about you, these last few months-"

"Dieter! My Man!" someone shouts in the distance. "What the fuck are you doing here?!"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" he yells back, "I'm about to fuck this beautiful woman in an In n Out parking lot, what are you doing here?"

"Fuck, can I take a pic, man?" the fan shouts as he approaches the convertible.  

"Don't you see we're a little preoccupied?" you shout at the fan, flicking him off. "Get the fuck out of here!" you shout.

The fan quickly takes a shot of the both of you with his iPhone, a half-hearted apology mumbled out of his mouth as he quickly runs back inside of the restaurant, probably to the group of men who are completely unaware of the two celebrities dry-humping the fuck out of each other in their wake, eating their double-doubles and sneaking sips out of a cup filled with some cheap ass vodka, fist-bumping the night away.

"Are you gonna come in those Gucci pants of yours, D?" you tease, your pace quickening as you ride his dick relentlessly. "How does it feel having America's Sweetheart getting you to come in your pants, baby?"

"Fuck," Dieter pants, his hand wrapping around your neck as he pushes you against the steering wheel, angling the tip of his cock against your clit. "How does it feel to get fucked by The Devil, sweetheart? Your pussy is begging me to just rip those fucking panties off and just claim you, right in front of all of these fucking people-"

You shiver at that, a choked curse and his name out of your mouth as he sees the entirety of your body begin to quiver and shake.  

"Don't fight it, baby, I know you fucking like the attention, I know you want everyone to see how much of a bad fucking girl you are inside... but don't worry, Dieter knows, and I'll help you show them," he pulls you against him harshly, your chest pushed up against his, as his teeth sink at the hollow of your neck. "I'll get the world to see just who you really are, baby. Let me show you the way-"

You scream as he thrusts into you once more as he rips your orgasm out of you violently, crying out into his neck as Dieter explodes into his Gucci trousers, the mixture of your slick and his thick cum making an absolute mess of his loaned suit.  

I guess I'll have to pay for these, Dieter thinks to himself as he cradles your shaking form into his arms, licking away the salty tears running down your face. "You did so good, Doll, don't cry-" he whispers, stroking the back of your head as he tries to get you to calm down. "What do you need, baby?"

You lie quietly against his chest, your breaths falling into rhythm with his, as he assumes you're simply gathering your thoughts. "Baby," he pleads softly, his hands tracing soothing paths along your exposed back. "Please, say something—"

"Marry me," you whisper against his chest, the words barely audible but filled with undeniable certainty.

Dieter freezes, his heart skipping a beat at your unexpected words. For a moment, he's speechless, his mind racing to catch up with the sudden turn of events. Slowly, he lifts his head to meet your gaze, eyes wide with shock and disbelief.

"What did you say?" he breathes, his voice barely above a whisper, as if afraid that speaking any louder might shatter the fragile moment.

You lift your head, meeting Dieter's stunned gaze with unwavering determination. "I said, marry me," you repeat, your voice steady despite the racing of your heart. "Let's take this car and drive it to Vegas, get married by some overweight Elvis impersonator, and book the honeymoon suite at the Cosmo... I don't care how we do it, but let's get fucking married, D!"

Dieter's mind whirls with a mix of emotions—astonishment, disbelief, and a profound sense of joy. He blinks several times, as if trying to confirm that he's not dreaming, before a wide grin spreads across his face.

"Oh, my God," he breathes, his voice trembling with emotion. "Yes. Yes, a thousand times yes."

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@daydream-believer19@survivingandenduring@darkheartgatita @gobaaby-blog-blog

[abominable-space-they]

A modern LuLaw Au, where Zoro is a huge hot thriller action movie actor. He does everything from historical magical swordmaster movies to modern non-stop suspensful spy chase films

Bepo is also a super famous actor but of the opposite variety. He came up in theater, is the loveable funny dad in family movies, comedic gay uncle in summer block buster type movies, and maybe the love interest in very first date mid market fluffy first date movies marketed to divorced moms and bisexual geeks. He's like Andrew Garfield + Nathan Foad + Harvey Guillén

Perfect in other words

They get teamed up for a wacky odd couple action comedy about an Assassin who has to find his dead lover's estranged brother. The estranged brother is a librarian who speaks 13 languages. They have to go on the run together to find a package that has evidence that can clear Zoro's name.

The movie is a huge hit. At the premiere after party both Zoro and Bepo bring all their best friends.

Both of their best friend groups consist of a motley crew of loveable weirdos

Bepo begs Law to come to the after party with him. It's his biggest commercially successful film to date and a huge accomplishment. It will open up all new avenues in being able to try something different besides the quirky comedic relief. He's elated... and a little overwhelmed. So of course, eventually Law relents.

He was always going to, they both knew it. Law just had to put up a fuss first, lest people start getting ideas about how much of a push over he might be

He's secretly a giant pushover, for a particular kind of chaos... The kind that drags him kicking and screaming into having a good time despite himself, but he always denies it

Law is there for maybe an hour before he's just sick of all of the loud smiling fake crowd. Overwhelmed, he grabs a few beers, and a vape off of one of the long tables full of party favors and escapes to the most out of the way unpopulated balcony he can find.

A balcony where the only other inhabitant is a free range Luffy perched on a railing like a little flip flops and sun hat wearing gargoyle.

Luffy it turns out, wasn't overwhelmed by crowds, but he couldn't stand how fake everyone was, Zoro's manager (Nami obviously) threatened to whoop his ass personally if he made Zoro look bad by getting into anymore celebrity fist fights or accidentally on purpose calling some mega star out on their bullshit

Law is despite himself charmed by Luffy's directness and lack of patience for anything fake ever.

They end up splitting the beer and the vape and hanging out talking till long after most everyone else had already left.

When they finally remember other people exist, it's coming up on dawn and the caterers are trying to politely get them to leave. Both their friend groups have long since left just assuming they both left without telling anyone when they couldn't find them.

In the cold light of predawn Law is a little embarrassed about getting buzzed and staying up till dawn at a Hollywood function with some pretty boy he's never met before.

Luffy is if course unruffled by all of that and drags Law to breakfast with him. He decided that since they were already on their own, there was no real reason to rush off in opposite directions. He thinks all Law's embarrassed bluster is very funny and cute.

And anyway, he knew a place they could eat near by.

Luffy drags Law to the Baratie of all places. Law is so flustered he listened to this hot unstoppable ball of bouncing charisma, he makes sure to point out why the Baratie on impulse at dawn was a terrible plan:

1) they couldn't just walk into to the Baratie dressed for last night's party, from last night's party. This restaurant was much to fancy for that.

2) the Baratie was booked for months in advance unless you were extremely well connected. It was extremely popular with all the right people (and plenty of the wrong ones too)

3) The Baratie was not now, nor had it ever been open for breakfast, it was a five star restaurant not an all night diner!!!

Luffy, shrugs super casualty, beaming mischievous joy at him

"I guess I'm well connected then Torao. It'll work out fine. Come on, it'll be fun"

Law follows him swearing to himself he's only curious what Luffy thinks he can do to get in

Really

When they get their Luffy bangs on the back employee's entrance. An extremely frazzled and probably a little hung over Sanji opens the door

Luffy beams at his friend

"Sanji! I'm starving! We need meat!!"

Sanji was prepping for opening, he scowls at his friend who went missing the night before without telling anyone where he was going again

"... Luffy! Yah! What are you doing here? Where did you go last night? What are you doing with pop rock diva Donquixote Doflamingo's nephew? Damn... You're hungry? Come on in, I have some meats left over from last night's dinner. I can make you guys some breakfast bowls or something."

Sanji knows all the society players and knows exactly who Trafalgar D. water Law is even if Luffy doesn't

Luffy bounces happily through the door.

"Thanks Sanj! What do you mean what am I doing here? I'm hungry! We need meat! We didn't go anywhere. You guys left without me. It's ok, don't feel bad. Lala and I were talking. He's real cool. I think he saved my life. I was considering throwing myself off the balcony in a final act of self sacrifice so I didn't mess up Zoro's party. But then there's Law, with beer, a vape, and my still beating heart in his tattooed hands like the drums of liberation! I could feel the freedom! So we hung out and talked about neat stuff. Then the people with all the shiny trays didn't have any more food left which is sad Sanji. No food. They just asked us to leave, so of course we came here bc we're hungry. I don't know anything about Mingy's nephew or whatever. Don't bring that pink jerk into this. I'm still sad mad from when Crocodad used to bring him to every family gathering. Mingo bahhhh. Lala and I are HUNGRY. Look how pale he is Sanji. We need to eat!"

"I do not feel bad we left you Luffy. You disappeared!"

"Don't be silly Sanji. We were right there"

Sanji gives up trying to talk sense into one of his best friends at this hellish hour. Settling instead on staring silent daggers at Law. Luffy might not know any shame but most everyone else did. Sanji isn't sure what's going on but he's pretty sure he doesn't trust any relative of that insufferable smug bastard Doflamingo.

Law shrugs loose and indifferent

"He's right, we were right there... I don't associate with my uncle, I don't like or trust him any more then you do."

Sanji, nods, he understands not associating with the family you can't quite escape. Still

Raising one gracefully manicured eye brow, Sanji can't help but ask

"LaLa though?"

Luffy leaps into the air, flailing his arms and legs like a particularly ecstatic starfish.

"Yes! Lala! Oh or Tora-ora-oh? Torao?"

Law, looks away, trying to hide the surprising way the nicknames make him blush. He mumbles, embarrassed

"I gave up asking him to stop two hours ago. Maybe if I ignore it he'll get bored"

Sanji absolutely clocking the vibes, snorts a rueful laugh.

"Yeah good luck with that, well don't just lurk by the walk ins Luffy. Take your man to the family table. I'll get you guys all that meat"

Law, spends the next couple minutes in embarrassed silent processing before he comes back around to what Luffy said about Doffy. Like, he knows him because of Crocodile?

"Wait Luffy, did you just call the infamous Hollywood fixer Sir Crocodile, Crocodad?"

Luffy is busy craning his neck towards the kitchen, he crinkles his nose in playful confusion at Law

"Huh? Oh yeah. I have a lot of dads"

Law scoffs,

"That doesn't really explain anything."

Luffy let's his head fall sideways, smiling in thoughtful distraction

"Oh hey! Yeah! I can introduce you to my dads! It'll be so cool! Mihawk will love you I can already tell. Buggy will say he hates you but he won't really hate you. Mihawk says being an utter bastard is Buggy dad's primary love language”

That makes Law huff a small dry laugh

"Is that where you got it from?"

He meant it in a teasing way and for a split second worried that he'd gone to far. People were always telling him his sense of humor was to sharp, to acidic.

Like a surgeon, cutting to the quick of a person

But Luffy only stares at him owlishly, thinking earnestly about the question

"... Oh yeah. Probably. Next time I'm over I'll tell Buggy Dad that. He'll be so happy he'll cry about it. It'll be so cool. Then Shanks will think he's in trouble again and he'll be so relieved the crying's not his fault this time that he'll love you extra. Probably buy you a yacht or something in thanks for getting him out of the dog house this week. You'd look good on a yacht Lala... Or maybe a submarine, a fancy science one not those weird tin cans billionaires keep committing elaborate suicide in"

"I don't need a yacht... a submarine might be cool. A sciencey one like you said. I don't know, no I'm not thinking about that. Luffy, you just name dropped the French Designer single handedly responsible for bringing back gothic romance in high fashion, arguably the most beloved and successful mainstream actor of his generation, and the grand line's Banksy. I know this because my friend Bepo is old college buddies with one of his assistants. Is there anyone you don't know?"

"I don't know everyone. I don't know your friend Bepo yet even though he did a movie with my bestfriend. I don't know who his friend is either"

"Uh Richie, big dude, loves meat almost as much of you, nice enough. He has a giant tattoo of a green lion on his back... He's probably a furry, most Bepo's friends are... but we never talked about it to confirm it. Not a big deal either way..."

"OH YEAH RICHIE! I know him!"

"see? You know everyone"

"You're The Celestial Diva Demon Doflamingo's nephew"

Law sighs deeply

"I was hoping you didn't catch that"

Giggling Luffy shakes his head

"Shihihihihi I catch things fine, I'm flexible... I understand. I understood. Mingy doesn't have anything to do with me bringing you to my family. So it doesn't matter to me if he's your uncle Torao"

"Oh... I... Luffy... Thanks"

Luffy laughs

"Anyways, I didn't know you before but now I do and I'm glad I do. You're really fun Lala. I love fun"

Law swallows thickly, he feels called to being honest, vulnerable even. He doesn't know why exactly but it feels like Luffy will understand the importance of his saying anything at all. He clears his throat

"I'm... I can't believe I'm saying this but... I'm... not mad about it either. Usually people in this god awful town only want to talk to me because I'm the son of famous post modern surrealist painter Rosinante Corazón or because I'm Doflamingo's nephew... Fuck It's exhausting, being expected to constantly perform precious little society Prince every day for their gratification. I love my dad but I hate the looks and the judgement and the expectations for me to follow in their footsteps"

Luffy's eyes are bottomless pools of deep sepia understanding. He nods, emphatic.

"Yeah I get that. Hey, that's why I come here and eat lots of meat! Sanji's dad always yells at me with his big voice and tall hat like, I DON'T CARE WHO'S DAMN BOY YOU ARE. LET ALL SIX OF 'EM COME IN HERE AND MAKE A SCENE. I WAS OUT IN THOSE STREETS WHEN THEY WERE JUST A LITTLE TWINKLE IN THEIR DADDY'S EYES. I'M NOT SCARED OF ANY OF 'EM, NOT SCARED OF YOUR GRANDPAPPY EITHER. LET 'EM COME. YOU COME IN HERE ACTING LIKE AN ANIMAL AND TRASH MY KITCHEN. I'LL PUT YOU ON A LEASH! MAKE EGGPLANT SOLVE HIS OWN STRAW HAT SHAPED PROBLEMS!! It's real great. He loves Sanji so much and he doesn't take any crap from anyone. Sanji wants to be just like him when he grows up"

Thankfully Law is saved from acknowledging how seen, understood, and appreciated Luffy makes him feel by Sanji coming back with food.

Luffy immediately forgets anything that doesn't involve shoveling breakfast steak into his face

Later, Luffy would somehow convince Law to come back to his apartment, where they would fall asleep on the couch together watching Zoro's movies (the only DVD's they had in the house)

Luffy falls asleep chattering about pokemon and beetle battles and all his friends.

It's nice

Really nice. The sort of nice he kinda hopes continues

Law is almost asleep himself when his phone buzzes.

The screen lights up.

It's Bepo.

He totally forgot to text Bepo and let him know that he was ok.

Law wiggles a hand free and arduously texts Bepo back

-Phone mostly dead

-I'm ok

.

.

.

-Met someone...

The response was immediate:

-YOU WHAT?!

-Later Bep. I promise I'll explain. I'm gonna sleep now

-You're sleeping?! Oh you're down bad. Ok ok. I love you but boss please don't forget next time

-Promise Bep

With that taken care of and no witnesses to see him being quite so soft, Law tugs the sleeping Luffy even closer, pulled in close under his chin. He pressed his face into Luffy's mess of dark Auburn curls. For some reason Luffy smelled like sea salt and mesquite smoke. It made Law smile.

He whispered into the top of Luffy's head.

"You just blow into my life with your ridiculous hat and your insatiable appetite. You're're gonna be the death of me Captain Strawhat"

Luffy grumbled sleepily, nuzzling further into Law's chest.

"Torao worries to much. It'll be so much fun, like breakfast. I'm right. Fight me."

Somehow reassured Law grumbled some sort of acknowledgement and was shockingly, soon, fast asleep.

Luffy made such a cuddly weighted blanket. He could get used this

[viablemess]

modern Codywan AU idea part 1

organized crime member Cody under "mand'alor" Jango + teacher / school board nominee with a heavy past Obi-Wan. This is a beast of an idea post so buckle up and join me for the ride this took over my brain when writing another wip and would not leave me alone. I like it a lot, I hope you do too.

tw: mentions of school shootings, mentions of sexual assault, mentions of physical assault (all vague, but still)

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The Fetts are a influential and very well known organized crime family in a large city, and Obi-Wan is one of three children to Qui-Gon and maybe Shmi, alongside Anakin and Ahsoka.

Boba is a student in Obi-Wan's elementary class. After most of the students are picked up save for Boba and a few other kids, there is a shooting nearby, and Obi-Wan shelters the kiddos until the shooter is apprehended. The Fett Family shows up to pick up Boba and Obi-Wan is respectful to them, oblivious to who they are, and most importantly, kept Boba and the other kids safe. As a result, Cody slips Obi-Wan a note saying "if you need anything call me, no questions asked" with his personal cell number. Obi-Wan saves it, not because he thinks he will need it, but because Anakin might, who has been involved in many illegal street races (alongside Waxer and Boil maybe whoops, they don't know the connection for most of the plot). Or, perhaps Qui-Gon will need it, because he and Shmi have been threatened by individuals and groups around their housing.

For a bit, Boba is the line of communication between Obi-Wan and Cody. He lets little stories slip and Cody hopes Obi-Wan does not call, because he seems like a gentle soul who teaches little kids, he does not belong in Cody's world. At the same time, he is a gentle soul who teaches little kids, Cody really wants to take him to dinner.

Obi-Wan texts a few times to ask about helping his brother Anakin, and Cody admits to not being able to make street race charges go away, but he will poke around, they exchange some information, and that's that.

Cody keeps working under his dad as a very respected *ahem* commander. They're looking into a new organization who might poach some buyers off of them and their smuggling deals, and to top it off, the new organization seems to break a lot of the Fett's unspoken rules of conduct. The organization's name? CIS. Of course. Rex wants to make a gender joke. The CIS are the same folks extorting the Skywalker-Kenobi family. Also of course.

And then parent teacher conferences happen because they're helpful, but Jango gets pulled into a negotiation and can't make it, surprise surprise, Cody has to go. He manages to weasel his way into dinner afterwards, and it's great. Obi-Wan is actually a snarky minx and Cody's falling fast. Obi-Wan explains that he is running for the school board because of a lot of corruption and problems in the public school district, and he wants to support the kids who have rough home lives, and Cody does some tip toeing around, and Obi-Wan picks up on what he isn't saying, because he has done his research now. Cody is so loyal, kind, and strong, and Obi-Wan is also cracking fast. It's no question these two are hooked on each other. Cody offers to walk Obi-Wan back to his car, and finds the windshield broken or his tires slashed or something. Obi-Wan manages to pass it off, and oh darn Cody needs to give Obi-Wan a ride home and it's cute.

Anakin keeps racing to earn extra money, and Qui-Gon and Shmi try to deal with things on their own. Obi-Wan goes back home to check on his parents and only sibling who lives with them, Ahsoka. Turns out someone is threatening her in a sexual manner, threatening human trafficking, and Obi-Wan flips shit. He does not tell Qui-Gon because Ahsoka begs him not too. He certainly does not tell Anakin, and so Obi-Wan goes out and does his best big brother act and tries to figure out where this is coming from. He figures out it's Maul, who has harassed and extorted his family before. A brief fight follows. Obi-Wan breaks some of Maul's ribs. Maul breaks Obi-Wan's wrist. Teaching without his dominant hand for the next few weeks absolutely sucks, and Boba definitely talks to Cody about it. Obi-Wan does not want to panic Cody, he's dealt with people like Maul before, so he tries to pass it off as clumsiness. Cody isn't buying it, but he also isn't going to push... yet.

I'm falling asleep, but will be back with part 2 soon <3

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I do not have time to write this but I had to share the thought before I forget it. If anyone wants to write it please be my guest just credit/share