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levellyscorner · 11 days ago

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Reserved for Members Only (Country Club! Steve Harrington x F!Reader)

Summary: Steve Harrington is a walking cliché—rich, tan, bored, and dangerously charming. He drives a vintage roadster, smells like sea salt cologne, and has never been told no in a language he understands. Hawkins Country Club is his kingdom, and he rules it in boat shoes and a smug grin. Girls swoon. Dads nod. Staff talk. And Steve? Steve coasts.

Until she shows up.

Perched in a white lifeguard chair with sunburnt shoulders and zero patience for trust fund theatrics, she’s not charmed. Not impressed. Not remotely interested in whatever lazy flirtation he’s offering that day. Or is she?

Triggers: Power Imbalance (Wealth/ Class difference), Workplace boundaries blurred, Peer pressure.

A/N: Hello friends, I've had some writers block recently and decided to completely ignore the other things i have going on and spiral into a summer country club romance because… that’s just what my soul needed.

expect: rich boys with egos the size of the tennis courts, who may use his money to hide his secretly sweet side, citrus-slick tension, and irresponsible francization.

sun’s out. my lemonade is iced. let’s dive in 🍊🍋

“Cruel but golden”

part 1

Steve pulled his vintage roadster to a smooth stop on the pale gravel drive the engine purring once before falling silent. He adjusted the brim of his bleached visor, confidence. The air smelled of money and summer, freshly trimmed boxwoods, chlorine, and the faintest trace of white linen cologne carried on a breeze. From somewhere deeper in the club—maybe near the bar or under the shade of the veranda—a saxophone purred through the speakers, languid and honey-warm everything felt dipped in gold. He moved toward the pool, passing a row of scalloped umbrellas and sweating highball glasses, the scent of citrusy iced tea and coconut sunscreen drifting past him in waves. The pool lay beyond, gleaming like a sapphire cut flat—a mirror for the cloudless sky, disturbed only by the soft ripple of a lazy backstroke or the idle kick of sun-drenched children.

And there she was.

Perched atop her lifeguard stand like a bronzed sentinel, she looked carved from sunlight and pool haze. One knee cocked, your white suit a slash of bright contrast against your tanned skin, hair pulled into a ponytail that swung with slow authority when you turned your head. From behind mirrored sunglasses, you surveyed the water with the casual detachment of someone who knew every ripple before it broke the surface. A glint caught Steve’s eye as sunlight bounced off your lenses, slicing across the deck like a signal flare. He stopped just shy of the pool’s edge, letting his shadow reach you before his voice did.

“Afternoon,” he called, voice low, carrying over the lazy hum of distant jazz with a loose wave. She lifted her chin just slightly, the mirrored lenses flickering as though reading the ripple of his approach. “Well, look who decided to grace us with his presence.” She let her sunglasses slip down the bridge of her nose, eyes glinting with amusement. “if you’re only here for cannonballs, I’ll need a better performance than your parking job.” Steve chuckled, brushing a speck of dust from his sleeve. “That parking job was art. You just don’t appreciate the classics.”

She arched a brow, languid and unimpressed, then returned her gaze to the still water. You tilted your head, deadpan. “Mm. If by ‘classics’ you mean skimming the azaleas and giving Mr. Halpern a coronary, then sure—Banksy would be jealous.” He laughed, the sound low and amused, leaning against the whitewashed fence with a casual elegance that somehow looked rehearsed. “Tell me you didn’t miss me.”

“I didn’t,” she said, too quickly to be convincing. He smiled just a little, just enough to show he knew better “And yet here I am.” He could practically feel her eyes roll from under her glasses, “I will say, you’ve got perfect timing. Right between swim lessons and entitled dads asking if I’m ‘technically allowed’ to read on the job.” Steve chuckled, easing closer. “What can I say? I’ve got a gift.” She didn’t look at him, not directly. Just adjusted her ponytail with one hand and scanned the pool with the other. “You’ve got too much time. That’s your gift” Steve’s smile faltered, just for a second, before settling into something more self-aware. “That’s what they keep telling me.” She glanced down, finally, sunglasses catching the light. “You bored or just making the rounds? Pretty sure the tennis girls would kill for a visit.” He shrugged. “Maybe I like the view better here.” She leaned back in her chair, expression unreadable. “Uh-huh.”

“You ever walked around the gardens?” he asked, suddenly. That seemed to catch her off guard. She tilted her head slightly, just enough to look at him over the top of her sunglasses. “What?”

“The gardens,” he said again, like it was a simple thing. “Just past the clay courts. They’ve got these little walking paths, and that ridiculous fountain with the cherubs.” He paused. “It’s quiet back there.” Her brows lifted a little. “Are you seriously asking if I’ve taken a casual stroll through the private-member-only section of the club?” He didn’t flinch if anything; the corners of his mouth pulled into a slow, amused smile. “Well, I wasn’t expecting you to say yes.” She exhaled through her nose, dry amusement flickering behind her mirrored lenses. “Good. Because I haven’t. Staff aren’t exactly encouraged to frolic through the hedges.”

He leaned in a little, that easy grin still playing at his mouth. “Shame. It’s quiet back there since most people are on the course. It’s kinda peaceful.” She replied sharply, flicking her ponytail over her shoulder. “Oh, is that what you call it when you're hooking up with some girl behind a hydrangea bush? ‘Peaceful’?” He laughed, but there was a slight hitch in it — a beat of surprise. “Wow. Straight to the accusations.”

“I’m just saying,” you replied, not even looking at him now as you adjusted your strap, “every time someone staggers back from the gardens with lipstick smudged and buttons misaligned, your name tends to come up.” He raised an eyebrow. “You keeping tabs on me?” She didn’t smile. “Oh, you are. Believe me. You’re all the girls on staff talk about.”

Steve blinked, before his lips curled into a chesire grin. “Really?” he asked, like he wasn’t sure if he should be flattered or concerned. She adjusted her sunglasses, voice flat. “Your car. Your hair. Your habit of disappearing into the gardens and reappearing twenty minutes later like nothing happened.” He huffed a quiet laugh, leaning in a little more, his elbow resting on the fence like he had all the time in the world. “You sure you’re not just jealous?” That finally earned him a glance, her head tipping toward him slowly. “Don’t be so dramatic,” you murmured, gaze returning to the water. “Save it for the next girl you give a botany tour to.”

He tapped the edge of her lifeguard stand with his knuckle, a hollow little knock like he was checking for cracks. “You going Friday night?” You didn’t look at him. Just blew your whistle once sharp and pointed at a kid inching toward the deep end like it was the edge of the world. “I don’t know what’s happening Friday night.” He let out a soft laugh. “Please. You know what party. Gatsby theme, overpriced cocktails, too much perfume in the air. A dozen guys in bowties pretending they understand jazz.”

You huffed. “Sounds like a dream.” He smirked, leaning in a little closer, like he could coax the truth out of you. “So that’s a yes?” You didn’t answer right away just flicked your eyes toward the water again, watching a pair of kids race from the shallow end with reckless limbs and too much chlorine in their eyes. He let the pause stretch, but not too far. “You dodging the question,” he said, tapping the side of the stand again. “Which tells me you’re thinking about it.” You scoffed, adjusting your sunglasses with one finger. “It tells you I’m working.”

“That too,” he allowed, grin lazy before squinting up at you, one hand braced on the lifeguard stand, his voice light but steady. “Come on, don’t tell me you’re working through it. I was hoping you’d be available.”

That made you pause. You tilted your head slightly, giving him a look from behind your mirrored sunglasses. “You’ve got options.” He grinned, sharp and unbothered, the afternoon sun catching the gold thread of his collar. “I do,” he said, voice low and warm. “Plenty of options. But I was hoping for you.” You snorted softly, adjusting your grip on the rescue tube. “That line work on the others?” He tilted his head, mock-considering. “Maybe. But I’m not using it on them.” You glanced down at him, mouth twitching. “What a lucky girl I am.”

“You could be,” he said, tapping the side of your chair again. “Friday night, you, me, maybe something stronger than club lemonade.” He tilted his head, watching you with that half-smile that always felt like it had a secret tucked behind it. “What, afraid you’ll have fun?”

“I’m working,” you said plainly. He tilted his head, still watching you like he could see through the brush-off. “Sure. But you’ll be off by eight. Party starts at nine.” You didn’t answer. Steve let the pause stretch, just long enough to let it settle. Then, voice quieter but edged with something sharper, he added, “You know, it kind of seems like you’re scared to say yes.” Your eyes snapped down to him but ge didn’t flinch. Just smiled, slow and sure. “It’s fine if you’re not interested. But don’t act like you’re not tempted.” You opened your mouth, then shut it again, the heat curling at your ears more frustrating than the sun. “I’m not scared.”

“No?” he asked, stepping back, his smile lingering like the sun on skin. “Then prove it. come with me. As my date.” You gave a short laugh, in disbelief shaking your head. “You’re asking me out now?”

“I’m daring you,” he corrected holding up is pointer finger, eyes glinting. “Big difference.” You stared him down, expression flat. “It means I’d be showing up to a Gatsby party on the arm of the club’s most infamous flirt. With every tennis girl in a 50-foot radius watching.” He smiled, slow and bold. “Exactly. Sounds fun, doesn’t it?” You tilted your head. “You’ve really got a high opinion of yourself.”

“And yet,” he said, stepping back, walking away just far enough to be cocky about it, “you still haven’t said no.” He didn’t look back, but he tossed one last line over his shoulder, soft and deliberate: “Eight o’clock. I’ll save you a drink—unless you’re too chicken.”

#stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington smut #fanfic #stranger things fandom

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hypothermiatapes · 3 months ago

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Tom Riddle played the piano, taught from an early age due to growing up in the church. He took to it quickly, considered a prodigy by his teacher. So good that by the age of seven he was asked to play during services.

The orphanage had been donated a piano years ago, usually left untouched unless one orphan wished to create music. When Tom began his lessons the piano begun to sing, the boy coming to practice everyday even when he didn’t have lessons.

The other orphans were afraid of Tom and kept their distance, but when they heard the piano they couldn’t help but collect in the halls and rooms near where the piano was kept. Almost every day at five like clockwork the sound of music would fill Wool’s dreary halls.

Upon going to Hogwarts Tom was appalled to find there was no piano to play, his fingers itching to run up and down ivory keys. He quickly charmed one of the professors into getting one, and soon Tom was practicing again. Hogwarts hadn’t had a musician in a long time, and the magic seemed to come alive with the return of one.

When Tom returned to war torn London the other orphans couldn’t help but perk up despite how they despised him. Wool’s pianist had returned, and the fear seemed to subside ever so slightly when notes filled the air once more. However, this time they were haunting and spoke of the pain that seemed to seep into the very walls of the orphanage.

Graduation brought a heavy weight to Tom’s chest, no longer was he able to access a piano. When he landed a job at Burgin and Burkes he found a cursed piano at the back and quickly dismantled the magic to play again. There, the dark magic that filled the shop learned what it meant to rest.

Then came his travels. There were months he was incapable of finding a single piano, leaving the yearning to grow in his chest. Though, eventually he would come across another musician, and would often be taught a new instrument while reuniting with his. He had even preformed on stages across the globe with other men and women who shared his love for music. He had learned the saxophone, violin and dozens more on his travels, but he always returned back to his first love.

With the fifth Horcrux Voldemort was born, Tom losing interest in music, his mind becoming consumed by hunger and madness. No longer did he yearn to speak through the language of the stars, now all he sought was destruction.

That day magic cried out, begging for the return of the musician as the soul placed in a diadem could only scream in mourning for one last song that would never come…

#tom riddle #tom marvolo riddle #hp #tom riddle headcanon #hp headcanon #hp thoughts #tom riddle is a pianist #i’m being very careful not to put any music terms because most band people would be confused #nerd tom riddle #he totally did play the piano #i hope this gets traction

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mariacallous · 3 days ago

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For most of my adult life, I worked in and around Democratic politics, and my hobby was work. Then, in 2022, I started taking surf lessons and got hooked. In April of 2023, and again last December, I took a trip to an outdoor wave pool in Waco, Texas.

If you want to meet the voters who swung toward Donald Trump and put him back in the White House, you could do worse than the hot tub at Waco Surf. I went there with my pickup-truck-driving, Joe Rogan–superfan brother-in-law, and from the moment we arrived, he couldn’t have felt more at home, and I couldn’t have felt more out of place.

At first I couldn’t put my finger on what, exactly, made me feel like the odd man out. But I soon developed a theory: The great divide between us is that I constantly think about politics and they do not.

Two surf trips are hardly statistically significant. But research corroborates my wave-pool hunch: Democrats are becoming the party of political junkies; Republicans, the party of people who would rather think about anything else. And there are more of the latter than there are of the former.

Last November, a poll from Data for Progress asked voters how much attention they paid to news about the election. Among voters who answered “none at all,” just 32 percent supported Kamala Harris. Among those who paid a great deal of attention to politics, Harris’s support shot up to 52 percent. Similarly, according to the research firm Catalist, Harris improved on Joe Biden’s 2020 margins among so-called super voters—people who voted in each of the four most recent elections—by a percentage point. The good news for Democrats is that by definition, these voters turn out consistently. The bad news is that the rest of the electorate moved toward Trump by 10 points.

The Democratic Party’s candidates, donors, staff, and voters are thus caught in a contradiction. Americans’ obligation to engage politically—always present in a democracy—has never been greater. President Trump is trampling our system of checks and balances, dismantling our government and institutions, pitting the military against protesters, and putting all Americans at greater risk of disease and natural disaster. These are serious times, and serious measures, including collective action such as the “No Kings” protests that took place this past Saturday, are warranted.

Yet the best hope for defeating authoritarianism remains the ballot box. And to win elections, Democrats have to win back at least some voters who have no interest in becoming more politically engaged. The party is going to need another way to reach people—and perhaps that path goes through activities other than politics.

Democrats used to do more to put their hobbies on display. The party’s most recent two-term presidents were a saxophone-playing Rhodes Scholar and a pickup-basketball-playing former editor of the Harvard Law Review. I wrote speeches for the latter and can say from experience that President Barack Obama’s sports-guy-in-chief persona was not an act. Standing backstage, watching the president ad-lib about the Bears or Bulls, I often got the sense that he found talking rosters or playoff games far more enjoyable than diving into the details of the day’s policy announcement. The voters in the audience usually felt the same way.

Today’s Democrats aren’t completely somber. I attended last year’s convention in Chicago, where “Joy” was a campaign slogan and a guest appearance by Lil John turned the roll call into a 23,000-person party. But that’s actually a symptom of the problem, not a solution. Democrats focus on making politics fun, when the real question is whether they can have fun outside of politics. Faking hobbies, or trying desperately to appear relatable, won’t cut it. It’s got to be real.

In that respect, the party has taken a giant step backwards during the Trump era. Biden’s age and limited schedule didn’t just make it harder for him to command the bully pulpit; it meant Americans got fewer chances to see him enjoying himself outside work. In 2020, Harris launched a YouTube cooking show, but it was scrapped by the time she became vice president, and it never returned.

In Harris’s case, I suspect her campaign worried that women candidates who share too much about their hobbies are quick to be branded as unserious. It’s a valid concern. But so, unfortunately, is its opposite. Women candidates who share too little will be branded as being motivated solely by personal ambition. Besides, Democrats now struggle to have fun in public regardless of gender. Make a mental list of the most likely 2028 nominees—JB Pritzker, Gretchen Whitmer, Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, Pete Buttigieg, Cory Booker. How many of them have a single identifiable interest outside of their job?

It’s not just candidates. The more that donors and staff surround themselves with people who are into politics, the easier it becomes to ignore the fact that most Americans aren’t. Critics have mocked every detail of the donor retreats that bring together strategists, funders, and influencers in attempts to create “the Joe Rogan of the left.” But the biggest flaw with these gatherings is baked into the premise: There will never be a Joe Rogan of the left, because there was never a Joe Rogan of the right. Rogan rose to prominence as a mixed-martial-arts color commentator. According to the fan site jrelibrary.com, he went 1,169 episodes before recording his first interview with a sitting elected official, and even now, his catalog lists just 19 episodes (out of more than 2,300) under the “Politicians” category.

Building progressive political media networks is important for those opposed to Trump. Progressive podcasts and news sites are where people who are deeply engaged in politics can stay informed, discuss strategy, and build both on- and offline communities. But to win over people who aren’t already political junkies—say, even a small fraction of Rogan’s audience—it’s important to recognize that his political credibility comes in large part from the fact that he doesn’t think of himself as political. The same is true of nearly all the other “manosphere” hosts who powered Trump’s reelection. Andrew Schulz and Theo Von are comedians. Dave Portnoy talks sports and reviews pizza. Jordan Peterson focuses on self-help. The Nelk Boys do pranks. Each of them followed the same path: focusing first on interests, then issues, and only years later turning to elections.

These hosts have something else in common: The media they use to reach people are all relatively new. In prose writing, where gravitas is still valued, Democrats maintain a cultural advantage. But in media that prioritize fun over seriousness—podcasts, YouTube, TikTok, memes, or any other format you were never assigned as homework—conservatives dominate.

What can the anti-Trump opposition do to reverse this trend? Although governor-hosted podcasts are an interesting experiment, what the party needs are channels that build audiences by being purely entertaining and then, on rare occasions, bring on candidates as guests. The Harris campaign was smart to land an interview with Call Her Daddy, and I suspect some newly launched podcasts, such as Good Hang With Amy Poehler, will be similarly sought-after for appearances as the primaries approach. Look at the comedian Ian Fidance parrying a MAGA heckler, or Ricky Velez’s brutally accurate assessment of Biden’s age. These stand-ups don’t bill themselves as Democrats. In fact, I would guess they find Democrats cringe inducing. Which is why, if they were ever to take a Rogan-like political turn, their endorsement might actually move the needle.

Democrats should also double down on their last remaining cultural edge—traditional celebrities such as Taylor Swift and Beyoncé, who both endorsed Harris in 2024. When celebrities endorse a candidate on social media, they reach millions of voters who might not otherwise consume much political content. Even though the Swift and Beyoncé endorsements were clearly not enough, the strategy still holds promise. The challenge for Democrats is how to get even more exposure to that audience. Imagine, in 2026 or 2028, entertainers from across genres and fandoms lending their platforms to long, personal conversations that get past campaign talking points and allow candidates to connect directly with their fans. It would be the kind of opportunity to reach disengaged voters that no TV ad or well-attended rally could replace.

Republicans might not have their normal-guy advantage for long. Having taken over the political establishment, they risk losing their place as the party of people who don’t like politics. President Trump is determined to inject government into every corner of American life. J. D. Vance is a walking “How Do You Do, Fellow Kids?” meme. Stephen Miller is many things, but chill isn’t one of them.

Democrats, in other words, have an opportunity to become the party of fun again. The moment is far too serious for them not to seize it.

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shawtylex09 · 4 months ago

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Random MHA headcanons bc I said so.

Characters included;

Ashido M. • Kaminari D. • Iida T. • Aizawa S. • Midoriya I. • Sero H.

Masterlist.

✮˚.⋆

☆ Mina Ashido

Half black, half Japanese (mom is black, dad Japanese)

Mainly listens to pop, but also likes hip hop.

I’ve also always Hc’d her to make this group chat with all of girls, and if anyone needs or wants anything that’s like, period related, she sends one of the girls out to help the girl in need out.

Gives off Bi leaning towards women vibes.

✮˚.⋆

☆ Denki Kaminari

I’m sorry, but Denki’s back is covered in lightning looking scars from growing up with his quirk.

Dealt with bad acne as a middle schooler

Has braces

Sweetest guy you’ll ever meet, and is actually really considerate of little things like his friends’ favorite colors, foods, etc.

Is very very very good at gift giving

Allergic to cats (only mild allergy tho)

Has a hamster in his dorm named Hamper

Loves spicy food even though he has like, no tolerance for it.

Has lightning fast reflexes because he loves rhythm games (get it? Lololol)

Smokes weed with Sero and actually kinda has a bit of a tragic back story

Used to be picked on a bit when he was in elementary school, kids would purposefully scare him and make him fry his brain to make him stupid.

When he gets excited or surprised, little bits of electricity shoot out through the ends of his hair.

✮˚.⋆

☆ Tenya Iida

I stand by the fact Tenya has a full skin and hair care routine, and he regularly does self care days with Izuku and Ochaco.

Tenya actually functions best on 5ish hours of sleep, any more or less and he’s basically a zombie.

He LOVES Pokémon, and his favorite Pokémon is Absol, his favorite starter is Tepig.

Totally pretends to hate being called Sonic, but actually loves it

He can only fall asleep if there’s some form of background noise

Wears cologne that smells kinda citrusy

✮˚.⋆

☆ Shota Aizawa

Has a vinyl collection, and regularly listens to them while he cleans, grades, or does really anything.

Let’s Eri braid and play with his hair pretty much whenever she asks.

He loves those hard caramel candies that come in the gold wrappers.

Has a small pin of a cat that Oboro gave him for his 16th birthday, and keeps it pinned up on his favorite jacket.

Can throw knives…scarily well.

Really good at poker for no reason

Was 5’5 until he hit 18, where he had a growth spurt.

He tans really easily, but the lucky bastard really doesn’t ever get sunburns.

Has matching tattoos that he got with Hizashi and Bo. The tattoos were a sun on Hizashi’s wrist, a star on Oboro’s, and a moon on Shota’s

Always paints his nails, and lets Eri paint them and put those little nail decals on them.

Has a heart shaped birthmark on his right shoulder blade.

✮˚.⋆

☆ Izuku Midoriya

Listens to cavetown regularly, and is a diehard fan of their music.

Is actually really good at art, idk I just feel like he’s better at art than he’s depicted in the anime/manga.

Loves banana flavored candy, along with coconut and grape flavors.

Can play the flute and violin.

Learning piano thanks to Momo’s lessons

Started smoking cigarettes his second year at UA

Izuku loves Just Dance. He just does

He had long hair in middle school, before someone stuck gum in his hair, rhem he had to cut it.

✮˚.⋆

☆ Hanta Sero

Obv I hc him to be at least half Hispanic, his mom being Japanese and his dad Hispanic.

He always smells so good, and wears different mixes of colognes and perfumes

Sero loves Spider-Man (fitting eh?) and has a few Spider-Man posters on his walls in his dorm

Stoner, obv

He loves to bake with Sato in the kitchen, he just does okay?

Whenever he’s super tired, he’ll end up speaking in Spanish, cause that’s his first language

Loves to cook, and he and Bakugou often cook together

Plays guitar and saxophone

Took dance lessons as a kid

Drinks a little, but not a lot tbh

Makes the best edibles ANYONE has ever had ever.

Here are the headcannons!! I’ll definitely make more with more characters at some point, but I’m super sleepy, I just got back from celebrating my birthday at a restaurant with my family so I’m kinda tired. I’ll try to get the Bakugou x Ch!Fm!reader out tonight, but idk if I’m going to be able to.

Mentions; @candiiee @cvnt4him @anzs-stuff @d4rlinxs

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