#Billing Machines for BANKS

[chelseahotel2004]

So this is my lot in life… (always having to scrounge for change for the bus fucking fare)

[vaor]

things i wish i had known when i escaped my family household and couldn't ask my parents for help

invest in a good mattress early on. there are many other ends you can save on - sleep is not one of them. this is key to how much energy you'll have throughout the day

you don't need a bedframe but you do need a slatted bed base (even if it's just pallets)

opening a bank account is easy

there's youtube tutorials for everything. how to install your washing machine, how to use tools, fixing stuff around the place. channels like dad, how do i? are a godsend

change energy provider as soon as your old deal runs out. you'll get better offers elsewhere and avoid price gouging

assemble a basic first aid kid at home: painkillers, probiotics, alcohol wipes, bandages, tweezers, antihistamine tablets - anything you might need in a pinch

and an emergency toolkit: flashlight, extra batteries, a utility knife, an adjustable wrench, multi-tool, duct tape

set your fridge to the lowest temperature it can go. the energy consumption is minimal in difference and it'll give you +4/7 days on most foods

off-brand products are almost always the same in quality and taste, if not better, for half the price

coupons will save you a lot of money in the long run

there's no reason to be shy around employees at the bank/laundromat/store; most people will be happy to help

vegetarian diets are generally cheap if you make food from scratch

breakfast is as important as they say

keep track of your budget in a notebook or excel file - e.g. rent, phone and internet bills, food, leisure so you'll have an overlook on your spending over the months

don't gamble

piracy is okay

stealing from big stores and chains is also ethically okay

keep medical bills and pharmacy receipts for tax returns

also, file your tax returns early

take up a hobby that isn't in front of a screen. pottery, music, going for a run every now and then, stuff that'll keep you busy and sane

and most importantly... you're allowed to get the stuff you want. treat yourself to the occasional mundane thing. a good scented candle. a bath bomb. that body lotion that makes you feel like royalty. the good coffee beans.

you're free and you deserve to be happy.

[rohroy]

ATMs & CRMs – Unveiling Their Benefits in India’s Evolving Payment Landscape | AGS India

Both ATMs and CRMs facilitate various banking transactions, CRMs offer the additional functionality of cash recycling, making them more advanced and sophisticated machines.

[yoshistory]

thank GOD they were able to process the bill via my checking account directly. phew. okay. now im getting a burger

[afloweroutofstone]

One 82-year-old woman, who wore pajamas with holes in them because she didn’t want to spend money on new ones, didn’t realize she had given Republicans more than $350,000 while living in a 1,000 square-foot Baltimore condo since 2020. By the time a Taiwanese immigrant from California passed away from lung cancer this year at age 80, she had given away more than $180,000 to Trump’s campaign and a litany of other Republican candidates – writing letters to candidates apologizing for not getting donations to them on time because she was going into heart surgery. She had only $250 in her bank account when she died, leaving her family scrambling to cover the cost of her funeral. And a 78-year-old, a widow who limited showers to save on her water bill and canceled her long-term care insurance, didn’t understand why the retirement savings her husband had left her was dwindling so quickly. After CNN reached out to her family, they learned that the woman gave more than $200,000 in donations to Democratic political groups and candidates. The federal government has gone after non-political companies for similar tactics, such as making false statements in ads or making them seem as if they were written directly to the recipient. But regulators have done little to stop fundraisers from using misleading and deceptive advertisements to target vulnerable donors. And the lawmakers who experts say would need to act to protect consumers at both the state and federal levels are the same ones benefiting from the current fundraising machines.

[starryhyuck]

under his desk. (m)

pairing: ceo!johnny x afab!reader

words: 7.4k+

summary: you discover your new boss has a secret hidden up his sleeve.

genre: smut, fluff

warnings: talks of violence, reader is jaehyun’s sister, rough sex, slight breeding kink, sir kink, public sex, creampies, multiple orgasms, hair pulling, mentions of throat fucking

“I need a job.”

Jaehyun’s mouth is wide open, spoon hovering over a bowl of soup, inches away from sitting on his tongue. His eyes dart up to see your anxious expression, eyebrows pulled together. He sighs, resting his spoon back down before leaning back in his chair.

“So this is why my sister finally reaches out to have dinner with me,” Jaehyun says, running a hand down his face exasperatedly.

“Come on, Jae,” you plead, fingers twisted in the napkin on your lap. A large chandelier hovers over the two of you, illuminating the disappointment gracing Jaehyun’s face. “You know I would never ask you for a favor like this unless I really have to.”

He observes the serious look on your face. It’s been years since you’ve reached out to him, the two of you losing touch after you parted ways when graduating from university. Your brother set off to a successful career in finance, climbing rank until he was nearly at the top, making an enormous amount of money that he had no clue what to do with. You were the opposite, chasing your dream of writing at a huge publishing firm, only to be met with disappointment by a few odd jobs and barely enough cash to cover the bills. You never asked Jaehyun for help even though you both knew you needed it.

He has a contemplative air cast around him, fingers rubbing at his chin lightly.

“I don’t know anyone in the writing world-“

“It doesn’t have to be that,” you immediately interject. You don’t care if he can smell the desperation across the table. “I’ve given up on that dream. I just need something stable, something I don’t have to make backup plans for if it falls through.”

He sighs again. “There is something, but it’s not easy-“

“I’ll take it, Jae. Please, I promise I won’t fuck this up.”

He stares at you for a while, taking in the hunger in your eyes. He hasn’t seen you like this since you graduated, proclaiming that you would become a best-selling writer before the year’s end. Now, you’re simply a girl crushed by the weight of your dreams and chasing a solid figure in your bank account.

“Let me see what I can do.”

—

You straighten your skirt for the umpteenth time, clutching the clipboard to your chest for dear life. The stiletto heels are digging into your feet but you keep your toes as straight as possible, trying your best to look like you know what you’re doing.

The door flies open and you take a deep breath. Johnny Suh walks by you without a word, taking his seat at his desk before finally sparing you a glance. His eyebrow raises at your appearance but he says nothing else.

“Good morning, sir,” you say with a smile. “I have your morning reports here and your daily schedule. Which would you like first?”

“My coffee.”

You pause, the smile slipping off of your face. “Y-Your coffee?”

He’s not amused in the slightest. “Black, no sugar. I expect it on my desk as soon as I walk into this room.”

“Yes, sir.”

A few beats pass. “Well?”

You stumble, racing for the door and exiting his office. You calculate there is absolutely no way you could make it to a coffee shop and be back on time, instead heading for the break room. You exhale as you place an empty cup under one of the high tech machines, waiting patiently as it brews for you.

“You’re the new assistant, aren’t you?” A voice questions. Another man walks into the room, taking a cup for himself and occupying another machine. He outstretches his hand to you. “I’m Doyoung.”

You shake his hand and smile politely, offering your name.

“Nice to meet you,” he says, watching as you carefully take the brewed cup of black coffee from the machine and search for a lid. “How’s the boss so far?”

You chuckle dryly. “Well, it’s my first day and I already forgot his coffee, so I can confidently say it’s not going well.”

He throws you an apologetic look. Before you can exit, he speaks again. “In my experience, Johnny favors resilience over anything. If you can show him that you’re serious about this without making a fuss, then he’ll reward you for the hard work.”

You smile thankfully. After bidding Doyoung goodbye, you make your way back into Johnny’s office, grateful to have met someone willing to help you navigate this job. Jaehyun warned you it would be difficult since Johnny was a particular man, to quote your brother, but you’ve handled much worse than a snooty CEO. You’re not one to back down this easily.

You slide the warm cup across his desk. His eyes are shifted downwards, shuffling through mountains of paperwork. He doesn’t glance up at you as he takes his first sip, lips twisting in a grimace. He turns his torso and points out the windows covering the back wall of his office.

“You’ll pick up my coffee order from that shop going forward,” he instructs. You have no idea what location he’s referring to as the view is just out of your eye line, but you make a mental note to check it later.

You nod obediently before taking your clipboard back into your hands, reciting his schedule for the day.

“You have a meeting with the board of directors at ten, a one-on-one with the CFO of Kim Enterprises at eleven, lunch at twelve, and back-to-back meetings regarding the Baek acquisition after lunch,” you say, handing him the sheet from your clipboard. He takes it roughly, sighing as he glances over it. “Here are the morning reports as well. Anything particular you’re craving for today?”

He regards you carefully, and you squirm underneath his judging gaze.

“You’re Jaehyun’s sister, is that correct?”

You swallow. “Yes, sir.”

He says nothing else in relation to the topic. “A sandwich from the Kim’s shop down the street will be just fine.”

“Yes, sir.”

—

After a few weeks of trial and tribulations, you can safely say you have found your footing as Johnny Suh’s assistant.

He is particular, yes, but you can see now that it is only due to the success of the business. When sitting by his side during his meetings to take notes, you’ve noticed how fast he is to shut down any propositions that seem like a waste of time and only approve ideas that are carefully constructed and thought out. Employees appear to equally fear and respect him, which Johnny was well aware of.

You can’t quite tell if he’s pleased with your work, but he hasn’t issued any complaints since the first day you joined. You ensure a cup of warm coffee from Min’s Market is on his desk every morning and a warm sandwich from the Kim’s is delivered to him by lunch. You made an effort to reorganize the filing system his prior assistant had tried to keep up with, which made both your and Johnny’s day easier whenever you needed to access an important document. You have his work schedule texted to his phone every morning instead of using the old paper route, which you find a lot more efficient, yet unsure if Johnny expresses the same sentiment.

It’s conflicting. You feel as if you’re doing a good job but your boss makes no effort to display praise. The only thing you keep reminding yourself of is Doyoung’s comment about resilience, and how you can expect Johnny to reward you in due time.

A call of your name disrupts your typing on your computer, and you’re quick to rise on your feet as you enter Johnny’s office.

“Yes, sir?”

“Ten just called me on my personal line. Make arrangements in my schedule for me to meet him today.”

“Yes, sir,” you say, writing down the instructions on your clipboard. “Anything else I can do for you?”

He pauses, staring at you thoughtfully. You hate it when he does this because you can never read what’s swimming in his head.

“You’re going to Jaehyun’s engagement party, I assume?”

You were ecstatic when your brother called with the news a week ago. He had known Miyeon since university and they stayed together through all the hectic chaos of Jaehyun’s career. He told you they were holding a small party at their penthouse this Sunday, and you were happy to attend in celebration.

You smile and nod. “Yes, I’ll be there, sir.”

He bobs his head once before waving his hand, dismissing you. You leave in confusion, but that was a normal emotion you felt around Johnny nowadays. You return to your desk and pull up his schedule, locating an empty slot for his meeting with Ten.

“How are you holding up, champ?”

You laugh when Doyoung approaches your desk, twirling a pen in his fingers. He’s made it a habit to check up on you every now and then. Another tidbit you learned when you began working here is that most people did not envy you for your position as Johnny’s assistant. If anything, they pitied you. Doyoung told you bets had been made around the office for when you would quit, to which you replied, “He’s not that bad.”

Doyoung chuckled and said, “Give it a few more weeks.”

Ever since then, he’s been spying on you for the rest of the employees, trying to see when your resolve would crumble.

“I’m still here, Doyoung,” you reply to his question, raising an eyebrow.

He grins. “That you are. Still having a hard time reading him?”

“Who doesn’t?”

He snickers. “Well, if it lifts your spirits at all, we’re heading out for drinks this weekend to take the edge off. Come and join us.”

You normally decline such an invitation as your weekends are reserved for catching up on some much needed rest. However, now that you’ve gotten a solid grasp on Johnny’s workload, you feel like a night of alcohol is exactly what you crave to wind down.

“You know what, I’ll be there.”

His grin stretches wider, and he’s about to speak again before another voice startles you.

“Mr. Kim, what are you doing?” Johnny’s stern voice asks, standing in the doorway of his office. He scrutinizes the both of you and your shoulders tense.

Doyoung scrambles. “M-Mr. Suh! I was just speaking with-“

“I can see that,” he cuts off Doyoung. Johnny narrows his eyes. “Is there a reason you’ve decided to interrupt my assistant’s work for mindless fodder about after-work events?”

“N-No-“

“It’s best if you return to your desk now, hm?”

Doyoung nods frantically, tail tucked between his legs as he nearly sprints out of the room. Johnny turns his attention to you, lips flattened in a straight line.

“I expect you not to waste time by flirting with other members of the work staff.”

Before you can protest, he’s walking back into his office, slamming the door behind him. You slouch in your chair, scoffing at his behavior.

What was his problem?

—

“I like this drink! Do you think they have tiny umbrellas behind the bar? It’ll make me feel like my life isn’t in shambles!”

You giggle at Joohyun, who is rambling loudly in your ear. It’s evident she’s had her fair share of drinks but she shows no signs of stopping.

You’re grateful Doyoung invited you to this outing because it feels like you can finally get to know your other co-workers without the walls of Johnny’s office blocking you. You feel light for the first time in weeks, and you’re not certain if it’s from the alcohol coursing through your veins or the absence of your ill-mannered boss. Either way, you’re reveling in it.

“Alright, truth or dare?”

You giggle, nearly spilling the shot of vodka in your hands. “Are you kidding me? How old are we?”

“Don’t be a sourpuss,” Doyoung says, nearly throwing his straw at you from across the table. “Truth or dare?”

“Hm, truth!”

“Boo,” Donghyuck from the marketing department yells. You pretend to throw your drink in his face and he ducks, making the whole table erupt with laughter.

“Okay, okay!” Sooyoung snickers. “Would you rather be an accomplice to a high profile murder case or fuck up Johnny’s coffee order?”

You shudder at the thought of delivering the wrong coffee to your boss, and the table is in hysterics over your expression.

“Definitely not the last one! He’ll have my head!”

The rest of the night is a blur, filled with more ridiculous dares from Donghyuck and silly questions from Sooyoung. You all part ways in the dead of the night, stumbling into taxi cabs as you wave goodbye. You elect to walk home since your apartment isn’t located too far from the bar. You shiver as the night chill nips at your arms.

You pass by another dimly lit nightclub, thrumming loudly with the sound of the bass. You know you shouldn’t, but you don’t want this night to end and crush the happy feeling in your chest. It’s the first time since university you haven’t had to worry about bills or how much the drinks of the night cost, and it spurs on your temporary foolish behavior. You enter the dodgy nightclub, convincing yourself that one more drink can’t hurt you.

The area is packed with people, namely older men with large builds and tattoos covering their forearms. You flag down a bartender.

“Hey, what’s going on tonight?” You yell over the sound of the music.

“Big fight downstairs,” he says, pointing to a staircase to the left of the bar. “Drinks down there are free for the ladies!”

Your eyebrows raise, and against your better judgment, your feet find themselves moving down the creaky staircase. The music dies down when you finally make it to the bottom, instead being filled with loud chatter from the bulky men around you.

“You’re insane if you think a newbie is going to come along and take out The Destroyer! He’s undefeated, you idiot!”

“All the greats have to fall sometime. Just watch and see!”

You make your way to the bar, which is a little more tattered and ruined than the one upstairs. The bartender’s eyes widen at the sight of you, which befuddles you until he asks, “Fan of The Destroyer?”

“Who?”

Three loud clanging sounds of a bell echo around the room, silencing the chatter. A man in a crisp tailored suit walks out, microphone in his hand. The crowd of people suddenly shuffle around until an empty square is left in the middle of the room.

“Welcome, everyone!” The man in the suit greets, the curve of his lips twisted into a smirk. “We have a great show for you tonight! For anyone looking to place their last minute bets, please locate Mr. Kim by the bar. Trust me, you won’t want to miss a fight this good!” The statement has the mass hollering while you look on in confusion. “Tonight, we have Payback in the left corner here.” The rallies grow louder as a young, lanky man comes forward, raising his fists in the air and encouraging the crowd. He stands to the left of the announcer, bouncing on the balls of his feet animatedly. “And in the right corner, we have the fan favorite, the undefeated, the legendary Destroyer!”

Your body locks up, breath caught in your throat while the room erupts in a deafening applause. Your hand covers your mouth in shock because the man who walks out, hands wrapped in red tape with his torso completely exposed, is none other than Johnny.

You nearly collapse into the bar from surprise, but the bartender reads your body language as something else.

“Incredible, isn’t he?” He says into your ear. “How much do you have on him tonight?”

You fail to respond, your mind whirling into a frenzy. There’s no possible way this could be Johnny — it had to be his long lost twin brother or you could be seeing it all wrong. From this angle though, it looks exactly like your boss, even as he wears nothing but a pair of baggy shorts hugging his waist. Your eyes drink in the litter of tattoos covering his chest, tattoos that are hidden in the daylight with his blazers and button-up shirts.

The announcer says a few more words that go completely over your head before ringing the bell, signaling the start of the fight.

You should go home. You should go home and pretend you never saw any of this. Staying here only implicates you, and you can’t imagine what Johnny would do to you if he found out you knew about his underground secret. You need this job, and staying here increases the chances of you losing it, so why can’t you move? Why can’t you pry your gaze away from the ripple in Johnny’s muscles as he lands the first blow, nearly knocking his opponent to the ground? Why does your throat go dry when he delivers punch after punch, eyes blazed with fury as blood begins running down the other man’s nose? Why do you stay rooted in place when the announcer declares Johnny’s victory, raising his arm high as the crowd cheers?

Then, he sees you.

His eyes lock with yours across the room, his victorious expression falling and shifting into something more grim.

That’s when you run. You sprint up the stairs and out of the bar, legs aching before you finally make it back to your apartment, shutting the front door and sliding your back down until you hit the floor.

What the fuck were you going to do now?

—

“Thank you all for joining us. This engagement is long overdue, and I’m grateful to Miyeon for sticking by my side even though I never deserved it,” your brother says, which causes Miyeon to bump his hip with hers jokingly. Guests chuckle at the small show of affection. “Please enjoy yourselves tonight and look forward to a Jeong wedding in the new year!”

Applause ensues, jilting you out of your reverie. You slowly clap with everyone else, trying your best to put on a smile.

You’ve been on edge since you walked into this party, and it’s all because of your idiotic actions from the night before. You contemplated showing up after being caught in the act at Johnny’s secret fight, but you knew it would be obvious if you missed your brother’s engagement party. Even though Johnny was here, you were determined to attend, albeit you having to avoid him like the plague.

In all fairness, you were succeeding thus far. You keep yourself on the opposite end of the room from him, never sparing a glance in his direction although you could feel his eyes on you during sporadic times in the night. Your plan is to leave at a time that wouldn’t raise any questions and go into work tomorrow and pretend you were never at the club that night. You hope Johnny would do the same.

For the sake of your job, you really really hope he would do the same.

You’re in the middle of assessing the charcuterie board, eyeing the various fancy cheeses. It’s just like Jaehyun to make this small party as extravagant as he could, knowing it would make no dent in his bank account. All the food is being carried around by various waiters walking around the floor to offer it to the guests.

“Having trouble making a choice?”

Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach. You slowly spin around to see Johnny behind you, one hand stuffed into his pocket while the other holds a flute of champagne. He’s wearing a more casual manner of dress, a silk burgundy button-up paired with baggy slacks. It makes his legs look longer and you swallow as he towers over you.

“S-Sir-“

“Johnny!” You’ve never been more grateful to your brother than at this moment. He approaches the both of you with a smile, clapping a hand over Johnny’s shoulder. “How’s my little sister doing as your assistant?”

Your hands twist around your back nervously. Johnny slips into a smooth, easygoing smile.

“She’s doing fantastic. I was actually coming over to tell her just that, especially since she’s the one carrying all of my secrets to the grave.”

Your heart thumps louder in your chest while Jaehyun laughs, taking Johnny’s statement as a joke even though you know better. Johnny’s eyes analyze you carefully, the dark halo in his orbs making you quake in your heels.

“And how about you, dear sister? How’s the scary boss holding up?”

You throw your brother a tight grin. “He’s wonderful, Jae. No complaints here.”

Jaehyun nods, pleased by your progress before excusing himself to mingle. He leaves you alone with Johnny, who stares at you like a predator assessing his prey. You’re about to bring up a comment about the weather before he says, “Pretty girls like you shouldn’t be lurking on the wrong side of town.”

A shiver shoots down your spine. “I-I live on that side of town.”

He raises an eyebrow. “I don’t pay you enough then.”

You exhale, certain he can hear the loud ringing of your heartbeat in your ears. He sets his champagne glass down on a nearby table before grabbing a bite-sized quiche, holding it out to you.

“I’m okay,” you decline and he hums, placing the treat in his mouth for himself. You can’t help the way your eyes linger on how his fingers graze his tongue, licking off any spare crumbs. You think about how those same fingers were pummeling into a poor stranger the night before. How the fire in his eyes couldn’t be tamed by the outcry of his fans.

You picture the same angry Destroyer hovering over you in bed, telling you exactly what he plans to do to you while his fingers wrap around your throat.

His mouth twists into a smirk and you shake yourself out of your daydream. He flags over another man and they shake hands, laughing as they exchange greetings.

“This is my assistant,” Johnny says, turning his attention to you as he offers your name. “She has big aspirations to work for a publishing company after she gets tired of me. Maybe Ahn Books has an opening?”

Mr. Ahn shakes your hand, telling you how lovely it is to meet you, but your eyes can only focus on Johnny. He’s staring at you with a knowing look in his eye and it takes you by surprise.

Was this a bribe to keep quiet about what you saw?

“Any worker who can handle Johnny is certainly a star in my books,” Mr. Ahn chuckles. “Let me know when this one starts getting on your nerves.”

You laugh anxiously and nod. “It’s an honor to meet you, Mr. Ahn.”

Johnny gives you one last look. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

He doesn’t provide an opportunity for you to respond, throwing an arm around Mr. Ahn and guiding him away into the crowd.

You release a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

—

Johnny wants to fuck his assistant.

It’s plain and simple, but it’s very much against his wishes. When Jaehyun approached him with the ask to hire his sister, he didn’t hesitate to grant his friend the favor. He had known Jaehyun since they worked at their first company together out of college, and although Johnny had never met you, he figured you would be a good worker if Jaehyun vouched for you. Plus, his last assistant had just quit from being too “overworked.” Johnny thinks they weren’t trying hard enough.

You were pretty, way too pretty to be somebody’s assistant. You deserved to be the main attraction and Johnny is ashamed to admit he’s definitely salivated over the tight pencil skirts you’re always wearing around the office.

He convinces himself to put aside his own selfish desires considering you’re one of the best assistants he’s had in years. You’re incredibly organized and after he warns you once concerning something important, you ensure not to do it again. The only big thing that irritates him is how everyone in this office is clear about their desire to fuck you but you’re wildly oblivious to all of it. Do you really think Kim Doyoung comes to talk to you because he’s friendly?

It fuels him with jealousy and he’s not normally a jealous guy. And Christ, when he saw you in the crowd of his fight, blinking at him warily like a deer caught in the headlights, his heart stopped in his chest. He never intended on letting anyone know of his after-work activity, considering it was inappropriate for a man of his status to be engaged in such a violent act.

When Johnny first got into underground fighting, he had simply been a watcher. He was introduced to the scene by an old colleague and it intrigued him to observe random strangers beat the living shit out of each other for pure sport. He had practiced boxing growing up and the idea of finally discovering a place where he could put those skills to use drew him in. Most of the time, it gave him a spike of adrenaline when he won a match. It normally never gave him gratification to send his opponent home covered in blood, but he kept going because of the reputation he was building for himself.

And seeing you there, watching him win another match and once again being declared undefeated, it makes him feel... proud. Almost like he craves to prove himself to you, to demonstrate that he’s the kind of man that can take care of you.

He’s crossing a clear boundary line but his impulse to have you is overtaking the coherent part of his brain.

So when you walk in on Monday morning and squeak out a “Good morning, sir,” he swallows the need to bend you over his desk.

He greets you with a gruff “Good morning,” which has your eyebrows raising at the response. He normally ignores your attempts at chitchat, especially when it’s this early.

“I texted your schedule to you for today and I have your morning reports here,” you say as you slide over a stack of papers to him. “Can I get you anything else?”

You. Under the desk. On the desk. In the chair. Against the window.

“No, that will be all.”

You move to exit the room, pausing when your hand rests on the handle of the door.

“I-I just want you to know I haven’t told anyone about what I saw this weekend,” you murmur.

“I wouldn’t care if you did,” he replies frankly.

It’s true — he thought about it after leaving the nightclub on Saturday, and he wouldn’t be opposed if you went and told the rest of the work staff. Some sick part of him would actually be smug at the idea of you bragging about his wins to the other employees who so clearly want a taste of you.

“Oh,” you say, slightly startled. “Well, I still won’t tell. It’s your private business, after all. I shouldn’t have even been there in the first place.”

The nagging voice in the back of his head grows louder, desperate to learn what you think of him. “Did you hear what they were saying? How they were betting on The Destroyer?”

You squirm in your spot. “They said you were undefeated, that the newbie didn’t stand a chance.”

He wonders if you’re scared of him, frightened not only by his savage blows but his evident power over you. You must think that he intends to blackmail you to keep his secret, but he could care less what you choose to do.

All he wants is for you to feel the same way he does. He wants you to battle this warmth in your chest, to panic as your mind goes blank when you see him. And he can’t have any of that while you’re his assistant, working under him despite how much he would prefer you directly underneath him.

It’s why he introduced you to Mr. Ahn, an old family friend who owned one of the largest publishing companies in the country. Jaehyun mentioned to Johnny that your real passion was in writing, but the lack of funds drove you to your current spot. Johnny hates that your dreams were crushed because of something as trivial as money, which he carried an abundance of. He would fund your first book in a heartbeat if you asked, but he knows you well enough to understand your pride would never allow you to be indebted to him. He figures a job with Mr. Ahn would be more digestible for you, and it would provide him an opening to make his move.

“Do you ever get worried?” You ask him, chewing on your lower lip. “You could get seriously hurt fighting like that.”

An ache blooms in his chest. Do you care about him getting injured?

“I haven’t been hurt since I started fighting,” he shares with you. “I don’t give them a chance to get their hands anywhere near me.”

You swallow and he wrings his hands together under his desk. Does that turn you on? His office walls aren’t soundproof, but he could lock the door and throw a hand over your mouth to conceal your moans. His cock twitches in his trousers at the thought.

His fantasy shatters when you finally crack open the door.

“I’ll order a sandwich from the Kim’s for your lunch today, sir.”

“Why don’t you make it two and join me?”

You stutter. “I-I’m sorry?”

“Join me for lunch. I could use another pair of eyes on these awful spreadsheets.”

“O-Okay.”

—

Johnny is playing with fire.

He’s very aware of this, yet he can’t seem to stop himself. You’ve eaten lunch together everyday for the past two weeks, munching quietly in his office while he divulges his reasoning to you behind budget cuts and expansion decisions. In the beginning, you would nod and listen patiently. After his encouragement to speak up and voice your opinion, you slowly started coming out of your shell around him.

And he’s very well informed of what the office thinks about your private time together. Last week, he overhears Doyoung mumble to you, “You and the boss are getting close.”

A grin stretches from ear to ear on his face when he listens to your response.

“Oh, I guess we have. He’s been really sweet with me.”

An envious scoff from Doyoung is enough to make Johnny’s entire day.

Late that Friday, you both stay overtime in order to complete the documents required for the Baek acquisition that Johnny has to present to the board of directors on Monday. He insists that you finish your tasks in his office to be more efficient, although the real reason is that he wants to look at your legs while you work.

He watches as you roll your neck, humming when you finally hear the familiar snapping sound.

“Maybe we should call it a night,” Johnny sighs, tired of staring at you for hours without being able to discover what’s hidden beneath that skirt of yours.

You frown. “But we’re only on the seventh page.”

“I’m starting to think you enjoy this work more than I do,” he says with a smirk.

You look down bashfully, avoiding his gaze. “I just don’t think you’ll be ready by Monday if we call it quits.”

“Let me worry about that, hm? I’ll drive you home.”

Your head whips up. “Oh, sir, I couldn’t let you-“

“I want to,” he says firmly.

You smile softly and nod. The two of you pack up the rest of your things, with Johnny storing the paperwork in his briefcase to review for later. He escorts you down to the parking garage and you pile into his vehicle. He observes as you admire the sleek interior, and he’s conscious of the fact that the cost of this car could likely pay your rent for five years. He really does want to offer you a raise to get you into a better apartment in a more decent side of town, but he’s certain you would interpret the gesture as a bribe rather than an act of kindness.

As the vehicle merges onto the busy city road, you pipe up from the passenger seat.

“Are you fighting this weekend?”

The question startles him. You haven’t spoken about his fighting since the moment you told him you would keep his secret.

“Every Saturday,” he replies, sneaking a quick glance over at you.

You have a nervous expression painted on your face. He opens his mouth to ask why before you speak up again.

“Will you be careful?”

The car halts at a red light, and he uses the spare time to fully look at you. You stare back at him, your eyes filled with concern.

It’s completely inappropriate and out of line, but his hand reaches over the dashboard to grab yours. He raises the back of your palm to his mouth, lips brushing over your knuckles. The intimate gesture has you staggering your breath.

“I promise.”

Your words rattle around in his head the following day. He usually doesn’t need any words of encouragement before a fight, his music playlist being enough to boost his spirits. This time, however, he thinks about you tucked away in his car. He pictures your pretty face when he kissed your hand, how your eyes darted away from his in embarrassment.

You’re the reason why he walks into the crowd with a mission, clapping his hands together as he faces his mediocre opponent. When the bell rings, he doesn’t pull his punches as he strikes the first jab into the other man’s face. You’ve awakened something in him and the crowd’s cheers grow louder when he lands blow after blow. It isn’t long before his challenger is stumbling across the floor, falling on his back after Johnny delivers the final thwack against his abdomen.

A hand wraps around his arm and holds it high in the air. The announcer declares his victory, once again proclaiming him undefeated. The roars of the crowd fill his eardrums, but the only person he can think about is you.

His body moves before his mind can convince him otherwise, getting dressed and gathering his things as quickly as possible before exiting the nightclub. He nearly breaks into a sprint in the chilly night air, reaching your apartment within minutes.

When you open the door, your jaw drops open at the sight of him.

“Johnny-“

His hands cup your cheeks, pushing your body backwards until you hit the wall. His nose brushes against yours and your breath hitches, hands reaching up to curl around his wrists.

“Tell me I should stop,” he whispers against your lips. “Tell me I’m crossing a line and I need to walk out that door and never come back.”

He watches your chest rise and fall with each passing breath. Your expression crumbles before you press forward, locking your lips with his.

A frenzy ensues. He shuts the door to your apartment forcefully, almost rattling it off of its hinges. His tongue slips into your waiting mouth, fingers gripping your waist tightly. You’re whimpering against him, basking in the sweat and tanned muscles from his win.

“Sir-“

“Fuck,” he hisses, pushing his body against yours. You whine when you can feel his hardened member against the fabric of your shorts. “Do you know how much it turns me on whenever you call me that? Always parading around in these fucking tight skirts, calling me sir — you’re practically begging me to stretch you open.”

You pant. “I want you to. I really really want you to.”

You both clumsily move to undress the other, with Johnny’s fingers pulling down your shorts and your hands lifting up his shirt. There’s a little dried blood on his torso as evidence from the fight.

“Sorry, I didn’t shower before I came and-“

“Did you win?”

A pause. “Of course I won.”

Then your lips are on his, tongues swirling together. The kiss is sloppy with the two of you mouthing at one another, desperate to grasp at any physical contact you can. You squeak in surprise when Johnny lifts you up, wrapping your legs around his waist before pinning you against the wall.

He trails kisses down your neck, ripping your old university t-shirt in half and discarding it on the floor. Your sports bra follows after, and he gives you no time to complain before he takes your right nipple into his mouth, licking wildly. He shifts his attention between each breast, fingers flicking at the peaked bud if he neglects one for too long.

Your fingers tangle into his hair, whimpering softly.

“S-Sir-“

“Need me inside you?” He murmurs against your skin. “You’re so fucking tempting.”

“Please,” you beg, tugging at the strands of his silky brown locks. “I need you so badly.”

He’s quick to release his cock from the confines of his shorts, tip red and leaking. You whine when you see the evidence of his arousal. Johnny knows he’s bigger than most so he moves your panties to the side and runs a finger through your folds. He groans when he feels you practically dripping onto his palm.

“You really do need me badly, hm?” He remarks with a smug grin. “Tell me what’s gotten you so wet, baby.”

“Y-You,” you choke out. “Ever since I saw you fighting as The Destroyer, I-“

Your words are cut off by a piercing scream when the tip of his cock slides into you. He takes your arms and wraps them around his neck, stabilizing you as he cups his hands around your ass, rutting up into you. He can tell you’re marveling at his strength — his ability to lift you like you weigh nothing. He holds you close as his hips piston deep into your cunt.

“Look at what you do to me,” he bites in a venomous tone. “I can’t think properly when I’m around you. Want to bend you over my desk and let the whole office hear you sing for me.” Another sharp thrust has you tightening your hold around his neck, and he takes the opportunity to dangle your legs over his elbows. The angle fully allows him to fuck you perfectly, balancing you in his arms as he watches his cock disappear in and out of your weeping pussy. All you can do is hang onto him for dear life and take it. “Maybe I should invite Doyoung to come watch us. He’s always fucking chasing after you anyways.”

You unravel around him at a breakneck speed, pushed over the edge by the idea of him claiming you for all of your co-workers to see. He grunts when he feels you clench around him, offering a few more thrusts before he’s following suit. You whimper when he releases inside of you, painting your walls with his cum.

He finally sets you back down on the ground carefully, chuckling when your shaky legs cause you to stumble into him.

“Shut up,” you mumble bashfully, hitting his arm.

He kisses you again, hands resting on your lower back. “Do you think you’d be up for another round?” He whispers, eyeing his cum running down your thighs.

“I think you’re crazy,” you reply, which brings forward another bubble of laughter from him. You draw circles over his arm, admiring the swell of his muscles. Your voice shifts into something softer and lighter. “What are we going to do?”

He brushes his lips over your forehead. “I’ll figure it out. Just let me take care of you, hm?”

You giggle when he scoops you into his arms and carries you into the bedroom bridal style, preparing himself to make you moan for him all night.

—

Weeks after your passionate night with Johnny, you reach out to Mr. Ahn to see if there’s an opening at Ahn Books.

He offers a position as a junior editor and you accept it happily, eager to finally begin your career in the writing world. When you announce your departure from Johnny’s company, you’re surprised by the outpour of love you receive. All of the colleagues you spent a fun night out with bring you various flowers and stuffed animals, requesting for you to stay in touch. Johnny isn’t shocked in the slightest, huffing to himself as he tells you that they’re all in love with you. You simply roll your eyes at his jealousy.

At first, you kept your relationship with Johnny a secret in fear that people would assume you slept your way to the top. It proved extremely difficult to keep your boyfriend’s hands off of you, however. He ached to be near you at all times of the day, and you’re ashamed to admit your last two weeks in the office were mainly spent on your knees or bent over his desk.

“Ungh!”

A hand pushes on your lower back, arching your spine. Fingers tangle in your hair and your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“What do you expect me to do now, hm? How am I supposed to get my fill of this pussy everyday when it’s across town?”

A smack echoes throughout the room when his hand collides with your ass and you bite down on your palm to prevent the mewls from releasing. No matter how many times you warn Johnny that the staff outside could definitely hear you two, he never holds himself back. There could be articles written the next day about the CEO fucking employees in his office and he wouldn’t bat an eye. His only focus is you, how you feel around him, how fast he can get you to whine for him.

One particular push of his hips has you reeling, gasping as you clench around him. He groans when he feels your climax hit, sending him tumbling over the edge before his warm seed fills you.

“Johnny,” you scold, reaching back to hit him lightly. “You know I stopped taking my birth control.”

“I’m aware, baby. Why do you think we’re moving in together?”

You scoff. You were initially opposed to the idea, but Johnny somehow convinced you that it would be much easier for you to move into his million dollar house and let him drive you to work every morning. There were no downsides to his proposal, truth be told, but you didn’t want to make it seem like you were using him for his bank account. He asked if he could fuck your throat to call it even, and you agreed.

He sits back down in his chair, pulling you onto his lap. Various papers and pens are scattered across the floor from the aftermath of your intimacy.

“It’s going to be a really good thing for you that I’m leaving,” you say, massaging the back of his neck as he licks at your collarbone. His cock is still seated deep inside you. “You haven’t been productive at work in weeks.”

“It’s the job for the next assistant,” he says dismissively. “Let’s go out tonight in celebration?”

“Okay,” you hum in contentment. “I really do want to thank you, you know. I was about to hit rock bottom before I started working for you.”

“No need to thank me, baby. I would do anything for you. As long as you keep supporting The Destroyer, I’m happy.”

You frown. “I’ll only keep supporting you if you remain undefeated. I’d hate to see you seriously injured.”

He laughs at the idea, as if the thought of anyone taking his championship title is unbelievable. He squeezes your hips and slowly begins to rock you back and forth on his cock, and you whine when you realize he’s growing hard again.

“Don’t be silly. No one has a chance against me.”

“D-Do you think we need to tell Jaehyun about us?”

Johnny shrugs. “It’s the job for the next assistant.”

Then he throws you over his desk once more, grunting as he claims your body until the sun sets over the horizon.

this fic was posted for early access to the $5 tier on my patreon, which you can access here!

[charlott2n]

imagine slowly and delicitely feedijg the longest dollar bill into a vending machine and it just keeps going and theres a line behind you and youre going "i know i knowwww" and everyone is starting to get really mad throwing things ar you and toure crying getting snot all over th evending machine its not youre fault the only banks in the area give long bills. its not youre fault

[beforeimdeceased]

hey bae! if you’re still taking requests could i please have something fluffy with mean! ellie and sensitive/soft! reader. it can be whatever u want, loving the pink theme btw 🎀⭐️!

CRYBABY! - (E.W)

pairing: mean/cruel ellie x sensitive/emotional reader.

synopsis: you’ve had a seriously bad day, and now you’re stuck with the shittiest person you’ve ever met while you wait for your friends to get home.

a/n: thank u for acknowledging the theme! it took so long to put together 😭. also i really hope this fulfills your request. would you guys want a part 2 w/ smut this time?

“crybaby, crybaby. we need to cry. and if we do, i know that would be alright.” — edit

masterlist.

ellie fucking williams was an exceptional singer, guitarist, and had incredible stage presence. but more importantly: she was an asshole. a complete fucking dick, and not just the usual “too good for everyone” cocky. she was crude. she was vulgar and she knew exactly how to push people, you specifically. sometimes you thought that she walked around asking for a fight to prove herself to people. now, you think it’s so she can finally feel something. even if it’s a mind spinning jab at her face.

you did your best to stay away from her, despite you sharing friends; jesse and dina. you knew exactly how she was and you knew you couldn’t handle it. no matter how many times you tried to let her little remarks brush past you, you always found yourself wanting to go lower. and each time you were around her it got harder to bite your tongue.

today was a bad day. a shit day. one of your worst. you found fraudulent activity on your bank card, got hit with a frustratingly large and urgent bill, and your washing machine broke. all in the span of an hour. the customers at your job had been extra rude and to make matters worse, your manager yelled at you for a mistake you didn’t even make.

all you wanted to do was go over to dina & jesse’s and eat brownies while they treated you like the child they’d yet to have. dina rubbing your back and reassuring you that everything will be okay while jesse threatens to beat all your enemies bloody. you use the spare key you have to their apartment to messily trudge in, kicking your shoes off at the door and smiling as you open the fridge to find dina’s special 1,000 hour brownies.

“i keep telling her she should put weed in those.” echoes behind you, causing you to pause mid bite. there she is, leaning against the counter. eyes smudged with her signature stage eyeliner, sweat glistening on her skin, a tank top and her stage cargos sagging on her waist. gargling down a plastic water bottle that had definitely seen better days.

“where are dina and jesse?” you furrow your brows closing the fridge. you grab a napkin to place the brownie on, and move further back near the door away from her. just in case.

“they went to go grab some groceries, but they told me to stay here and wait for you.” she answers, finishing the bottle off.

fuck. how long were they going to be gone? you couldn’t imagine spending more than 2 minutes alone with this loose lipped devil. her eyes narrow as she looks you up and down before smiling. here she goes.

“bad day? cause it looks like it.”

“well it definitely isn’t going to get better with you around me.” you snap back.

“ouch. i’m hurt.” she laughs. deviously. a hand over her chest as she pushes off the counter to chuck the empty bottle into the trash can.

you move over to the living room, sitting yourself on the couch. maybe if you ignore her she’ll get bored and leave you alone? maybe she’ll get so bored she’ll actually leave. god, please get the fuck out of here.

she follows you though, sitting way too close for comfort and turning on the tv. you pull your phone out, immediately opening tumblr and mindlessly scrolling. hoping that dina and jesse will be home soon.

“d tells me you stopped showing up to gigs because of me. is that true?” she breaks the silence between you two. you shrug her off. “you’re not the easiest person to be around, williams.” you state.

“so what’s wrong with me? i’d love to hear it straight from the horses mouth.” she scoffs, scooting closer. when you attempt to ignore her she pulls your phone out of your hand. staring into your eyes with her very own. piercing through your soul for a response. “is it because i called you an idiot?”

“among other things, but it doesn’t surprise me that that’s all you remember.” you reach for your phone but she pulls it back. this causes you to pinch her, and she smacks your hand away still holding your phone back. “remind me then.”

you feel her taunting tone. her want— need to push at you. to push your buttons and boundaries until you break. it’s like a game to her, and you certainly weren’t in the mood for it today.

“can you give me my phone so i can find out when dina and jesse are coming home?” you sigh. her behavior reminded you of a customer you’d had earlier who’d treated you like garbage because you weren’t smiling. you felt tears welling up but pushed them down. you never cried in front of ellie. because of her, maybe, but never to her face. you’d never live it down.

“can you answer my question? so i can apologize or whatever. d is really on my ass about it.”

you scoff. “ofcourse you aren’t genuinely sorry. you probably don’t even remember all the fucked up shit you say and do to people. half of the time you ignore me and the other half you treat me like i’m a burden. do you remember when you guys had your first real show? i told the security i knew you and you pretended like i was a stranger.”

“jesse was sooo pissed you didn’t show up.” she laughs. “did he yell at you?”

“yeah. thought i was lying because you told him i was. called me a shit friend and a liar until i showed him proof. why am i the only one you treat like this?”

“you’re definitely not the—“ you reach for your phone again, but she’s quicker than you. pushing you away and laughing at your lockscreen, which was a picture you’d taken of yourself. one you felt incredibly confident in. all of that confidence was withering away slowly and you could guess it’d only been 10 minutes. “only one.”

“that’s so much worse. seriously, i don’t have time for this today. i’ll just go home.” you sniffle and fail to hide it. the tears were in the back of your throat and you felt like her personal rag doll all over again. what you’d finally gotten away from the last week was haunting you all over again. her taunting, her rudeness. she knew what she was doing and she didn’t even care.

“are you gonna cry? am i making you cry?”

you gulp, biting your lip to fight the shakiness in your voice. “just give it back.” is all you can muster up. her arm stretches up and as you reach for it she tucks it in her back pocket and sits on it.

you feel the tears begin to spill out of your eyes and you quickly turn around and lean into the couches arm. hands over your face as you pathetically attempt to calm yourself. you feel a hand on your shoulder and you push it away before realizing it’s ellie handing you back your phone.

it takes you a couple blinks, convinced the tears have obstructed your vision. the very same ellie who’d tripped you in front of a crowd of people last month, was being nice? her face has softened, genuine concern replacing the taunting gaze she previously had. she places a hand on your back and shushes you.

“i’m sorry. i’ve never made you cry before, i’m sorry.” she speaks softly. she almost seems…confused? is this what it takes to get her to realize that what she does actually fucking hurts you? for you to break down in front of her? for her to get a peek at the silent nights you’d spent sobbing over another one of her “jokes”? all this time?

you wipe your eyes and begin to laugh, which startles her and causes her to lean back. “you’re such an ass, ellie. god, you’re such a fucking dick.” you shake your head and breathe. she doesn’t respond, just stares at you with concern. brows furrowed as she concentrates on your body language. the way you’re leaning closer towards her.

“today was such a bad day.” you cry out in frustration, dipping your head into her lap. you just lay there, sobbing. she doesn’t move you, but instead rubs your back. shushing you. whispering that it’ll be okay, and you’d never admit it because it was coming from her, but you really needed it in that moment.

she pulled you in closer to her, turning you onto your side so she can rub her thumb across your cheek. wiping some of your tears away. you begin to cry even harder, but she doesn’t push you away. even when her pants are soaked and snotty. she lets you lay there, and cry into her.

[chimaerakitten]

So by the 2010s Temeraire would have been a political figure for literally 200 years. imagine the tumblr politician discourse:

_______

🛀 skibaldibathtub follow

It’s so fucking stupid to put a politician on a pedestal like y’all do with Temeraire. You know he voted for a bill that said only unmarried women can have bank accounts, right?

🦠 soylentgreeniswerewolf ✅✅ follow

Yeah, he voted for that in eighteen fucking seventeen you dumbass, when literally the only way for a woman to have her own bank account was to be an officer in the aerial corps. That bill was an expansion of rights.

Like look if you want to criticize the guy for being part of the imperialist war machine and furthering the colonization of Australia, I’m right there with you, but criticize him for things he actually did and learn some historical context, for fuck’s sake.

⛑️ youvegotchainmail 🐾🐾🐾 follow

Ok but you know he was sent to Australia as a literal prison sentence, right? He didn’t have a choice. You know this? It’s important to me that Tumblr knows this

🧊 climatechangethisass follow

the point stands about the imperialism tho. And also it took aaaaaages for him to come out in favor of marriage equality even tho his first captain was probably bi.

🍩 donuttouchthis follow

Politician makes compromises to get shit done and doesn’t voice unpopular opinions when it would lose him votes, news at 11

📬 manicpixiedreamoctogenarian follow

All of this is fine actually but I don’t know why Tumblr—the socialism website— doesn’t seem to fucking care that all his early writings are super capitalist yay resource extraction bs.

⚽️ sportsballenjoyer 🐾 follow

HE WAS HATCHED IN 1805. DO YOU IMAGINE YOU WOULD HAVE PERFECT MARXIST THEORY A DECADE BEFORE MARX WAS EVEN BORN.

⭐️ stony4president2028 follow

He said he hates the MCU :/

🧉theonlygoodstanisgrunkle

lol based

[musickool]

𝐻𝐸𝐴𝐷𝐶𝐴𝑁𝑂𝑁 ₁

𝑣𝑎𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑠 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑘𝑒𝑎𝑛𝑢 𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑠 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠:

ted logan —

type of guy:

sweet lovey-dovey dork, this himbo will be all over the place

as soon as bill mentions valentines day, all the hairs on his body just stand

the thought of him being so lovey cringes him out but he's just can't remove the obsession with you.

he's so tooth-rottenly cute, when you're around him, he just don't know what to do with himself. you approaching him is like him seeing an alien. either runs away or just freezes and breaks a sweat when you talk to him.

you’re his brainrot and ted's just sadistically a victim to it, completely wrapped around your fingers

musters up the courage and makes it his objective to make the most excellent v-day ever

creating planning boards in his room, preparation talks with Bill, lowkey stalking you at school

saves up every penny in his piggy bank, not wasting a single dollar

reads up on things on what girls would like

love language is quality time and words of affirmation

valentines plans:

excellent adventure ted— you first spend the day on an afternoon at an arcade; you and ted wearing casual formal outfits (ted in his tuxedo and converses, you in a dress and sneakers), playing on all of the arcade machines, giggling, screaming and laughing and goofing around.

he then takes you to his favourite spot by the Circle K, chilling down on the pavement. playing some UNO/tells you his wild adventure stories/jamming out to punk & pop rock on his speaker, sitting and eating slushies and a hot dog

OR

after the arcade, he takes you to a diner, ordering a classic American meal (two burgers, fries, onion rings, two milkshakes with the extra cream & a cherry-on-top)

finishes the date with a trip back to Bill's, awaiting a heartwarming surprise (aka the anticipated secret)

he cutely takes your hand and sits you down on a chair, closing your eyes whilst you wait. 5 minutes later, you take them off at his command, waterworks immediately start to run as you look at the sight infront of you.

ted, with his guitar, announces his special song for you.

hands begin to strum on the guitar, puppy loving eyes gazing into yours, heartfully. ted serenades you with a sweet melody, accompanied by his surprisingly sweet voice

in the garage that's decorated in cutesy heart decor; red and pink balloons and banners all over the place, you feel as if you're in a safe haven, enchanted away here by your adorable, innocent boyfriend

mid performance, ted brings you up to the stage, twirling you around and then dancing with you. his big BFG self towers over you, slowly rocks your body and embraces you tight with his bulky arms. leaning in his head, ted finally caresses your face and kisses you— signing off the most excellent Valentines day ever. . .

bogus journey ted— either takes you to the movies or rents a movie at the local blockbuster, so he can watch with you in his apartment

for the outing, he takes you to the movies to watch a cheap chick flick he thinks you'd like; popcorn, nachos and a big shake

at home, he puts on a sci-fi movie, both stuffing down on a large pepperoni pizza, watching contently

afterwards, you kick back and relax for a long smoke sesh, getting high on some good weed whilst he puts an arm around you, nestling and cuddling with you close

he'll definitely brings out a guitar and sing to you, smoking a spliff that still rests between his lips (typical lightskin moment)

one way or another in ol' netflix and chill fashion, the night ends with ted loving on your body— giving you the most ultimate rocker boy finale his bodacious girl needs . . .

face the music ted— buys two VIP tickets, for the both of you, to a summer rock festival across state; booking an all-inclusive hotel nearby so you and him can rest in with convenience (away from the kids)

packs all the necessities— snacks, water, a pack of beer, foldable chairs, portable fans, sunscreen, a pair of sunglasses, and a charging bank

you both get to the airport, getting on a plane and travelling off into the concert place

arriving at the hotel; you unlock and enter your room— spacious king-sized double bed, tv, automated bathroom and a great view outside the window. the hotel has an all-you-can-buffet that you never forget to not miss

following the next day, you dress up for the concert; you wear a house of sunny 'lemons on a plate' dress with yellow sandals, and ted wears a white t shirt and cargo shorts, styling up with sandals and a hat

for the whole three days, you and ted rock out to live iconic rock music. screaming, jumping, and partying; dancing like you never you could

golden retriever ted watches out for you; handing you snacks, cleaning after you, supplying water, emergency hugs, cheering you up

breaks into a chuckle and laughs when he catches your boomer self taking videos and pictures, uploading them onto facebook and instagram ('me and hubby @/tedtheologan rocking out at the _____ festival! party on, dudes ! 😎🤩😀😍😆❤️👩‍❤️‍👨💍⚡️🤘🤙🎫🏴‍☠️🎸❤ #____festival #summer #sunny #fun #mostexcellent #smiley #happy #happyvalentinesday #rockfestival #yolo #youngforever #foreveryoung #tb #throwback #80s #1988 #2024 #thenvsnow #wyldstallyns #mosttriumphant #rockmusic #date #valentines #couple #airguitar #happy36thyearanniversary')

last night of the festival ends with a colourful night show, fireworks lighting up and crackling the night sky. under the bright lights, ted takes your hand and holds them. warm, tall body pressed against yours, he gazes down on you with such love. gently caresses your face, hazel orbs boring into yours, rubbing the small of your back soothingly. he closes in and kisses you on the lips, passionately making out with you

the fireworks continuously keep lighting up in the background, looking like a happy ending straight out of a movie.

type of gifts:

handmade stuff: arts and craft/DIY cards with cute stickers, colourful glitter, ribbons and drawings (imagine him getting glue all over his fingers and hands, big 6'1 self hunched over his little creations uwu)— gifts you a teddy bear and says something along the lines of: "babe, i got you this teddy bear, even though i'm, like, totally your teddy bear... and my name is Ted!", some candies, 'girly stuff' like makeup, "..because you're a babe and all..", a handwritten song personally made for you (with the help of wingman Bill), tulips and roses he got from his England expedition, an antique necklace he got from his Greece expedition, heart-shaped chocolates, some tapes and vinyls of your favourite music

john constantine —

type of guy:

typically indifferent

depressingly and callously cynical

not the one to be celebrating stuff like that, but he'll do what it takes to make you happy

he knows it's still worth it, just as long as it's with you

love language is gift giving and physical touch

valentines plans:

literally remembers ON the day, springing up from bed and bolting outside. goes to like 30 different stores, searching for the best presents he can find

runs back home with last minute stuff before the sunset. doorbell suddenly rings and john opens up, smiling as he sees the love of his life, you all prettied up in a cherry red dress, heels and matte makeup (something is bulging...)

you and john get in the car and he drives you out to a late night dinner, only to be met with disappointment when the restaurant he spoke to earlier informs him that the reservations are all booked up

sighing in devastation, john bows his head and shakes disapprovingly. he looks up to give you a weak smile and rubs your back reassuringly, gesturing you to head back inside the car. the both of you drive back to his, decidedly opting for some Chinese

you both head back to his, decidedly opting on some Chinese

john resumes back to finishing the set up of the living room; red candles and roses on the coffee table

impromptu date begins: candle lit dinner in front of the tv, you both drink some wine and eat some takeout, watching a random movie

finishing up, you doze off asleep, snoring on his lap

john still watches the tv, glancing down on you every 5 minutes. he wraps a warm cloth around you, resting a hand on your back. the urge of him to kiss you is burning him alive but he remains neutral.

he's upset that the day has been ruined, the one thing that he could've gotten right all slipped and fell out of his fingers. his callous self for once actually cares about something, something he originally thought was 'insignificant', something he wished it could've gone more better

even though the day didn't go out as planned, you've insisted that it's not too bad—grateful for the date overall. it's small and disorganised, but as least it's something, , as least it all ended with him

types of gifts:

silver antique jewellery, a card, giant teddy bear, a box of chocolates, and roses

john wick —

type of guy:

DILF, DILF, DILF

valentines day with baba yaga?!

already got the whole day planned and sketched out, back-to-back

john's fat wallet's will treat you well

always 'knows a guy', so you know your ass is about to be showered to filth

the wholesome family man side of him will be coming out, abandoning the stoic, brutally cold assassin behind

no more john wick— now it is jardani jovonovich

love language is gift giving, acts of service and physical touch

valentines plans:

he would start the morning with cooking you a nice sunny side up and toast, a side of maple pancakes and coffee. whilst you eat, he calls up a spa centre and gets you booked in at a lavish clinic, ordering some men to take you there privately. he asks you to call up your friends, inviting them to the spa day as well. gives you his card and some change just in case. once you leave, he cleans up your plate and cleans up the house, decorating and preparing whilst you're gone.

a full day later with hanging out with your girls, you return back home, deeply relaxed from the tantalising spa treatment. opening up, the house is completely dark and quiet, only seeing rose petals leading off to somewhere. walking along the rose covered path, you follow it and halt at the dining room. right there at the table, sits your husband of 5 years, warm smile on his face; white polo shirt and jeans. he gets up to greet you, kissing you on the lips and forehead

john's whipped up a classic candle lit dinner, steak and baked potatoes with a glass of wine. after a nice hearty meal, he takes you upstairs via the rose-petal lane, leading you to the bathroom. you're welcomed to a bubbling hot bathtub; two glasses of champagne, face masks, scented candles, and a charcuterie board sitting on the bath rack. you two hop in and relax in the tub, slippery naked bodies against each other. you watch a drama series on his laptop, silently staring at the screen

one blink later and you're in bed with john. big hands clasping on your small waist, bearded kisses and pecks littering on your stomach, muscular strong body dominating over yours, stocky fingers slipping to unholy places; john ends the day with pleasuring you for the night, showing you what no other man but him can give.

types of gifts:

surprise trips, full package spa treatments, his card for shopping trips, makeup, perfume, high end clothes, expensive wine, a bouquet of flowers, chocolate, a small teddy bear, menstruation stuff (pads, tampons, pills, hot water bottle pouch, snacks, his masseuse expertise, baby— this man loves you), anything you want, name a price, john will be your man

thomas anderson (neo) —

type of guy:

similar to constantine but more open-minded in his indifference

either forgot or is pretty clueless on what to do

casually flips through calender and scares himself shocked as he realise the date is tomorrow

goes on a forum to ask for help: "@/cyberspacecatontheweb: any suggestions for valentines day ?? I (37M) and a girlfriend (34F) are going out on a date and I don't know what to do. sm1 help a guy out thx"

goes on the internet and researches on ideas

eventually gives up and just scraps the ideas, goes with the flow

love language is quality time and physical touch

valentines plans:

thomas wakes up early and gets changed; black shirt and suit on. you arriving to the 101 apartment, he takes you out to a Chinese restaurant downtown. orders quite a lot of food— dumplings, stir fry, sweet and sour chicken, rice, hot pot, and bbq ribs. he pays the bill and you two leave, walking out to window shop.

later in the evening, thomas takes you up to a rooftop, sitting down and watching the city below. he hesitates, but then opts to spontaneously show you 'something cool'. gets out a tech device and presses a button, opening up a cybernetic portal. jumps inside and pulls you with him. you both teleport to a white void, confused and scared as fuck. thomas reassures you and shows you some of his latest tricks like emerging buildings and cities out of nowhere, binary codes that pop up and creates a giant ass dog that almost eats you, floating and flying through a cyberspace wormhole. for the last bit, he gently grabs your hand and shows you the last thing he promised: binary codes formulate and change, syncing up together and creating a love heart. thomas presses another button and the heart opens up, revealing a cybernetically generated portrait of you and him, written underneath 'happy valentines day xoxo'. his hands move to your waist and he slowly kisses you, simultaneously taking you back to the real world.

types of gifts:

digitally-made things: flowers, teddy bear, heart, a picture of you. makes a hologram gadget that does origami, a scented candle he remembers you like, cool tech glasses, paired with some gloves, that's installed with a program that allows you to do things- holographic games and worlds all built into these spectacles (norman jayden from heavy rain reference)

jonathan harker —

type of guy:

mr darcy-coded

valentines day with him would be a fairytale, straight out of a book

sensitive, kind, chivalrous, charming, courteous, and hardworking, your princelike husband who will always know how to woo you to your knees

planned everything in his sanctuary, ready to show you how he can treat you well

love language is gift giving, acts of service and quality time

valentines plans:

you wake up to a traditional english breakfast-in-bed; hot tea, coffee, porridge, bread, and eggs, served by maids. then you're being dressed up for the day, maids helping you out into your modest and elegant attire, fixing your hair, doing your makeup, and dusting you down. jonathan escorts you onto to the carriage, heading off first to a picnic at an expansive, spacious garden. The place is embroidered with pretty plants and flowers, fresh fragrance of pollen filling your nose. you and jonathan settle on the grass, laying a blanket. you enjoy some tea, crumpets, scones, and sandwiches, admiring the floral nature. jonathan dotes you inbetween small talk, complimenting your look frequently. for some short time, you both get up and walk around, appreciating the afternoon. after the picnic, he hires a photographer to have your picture taken. you sit on a chair as jonathan stands behind you, posing for the camera.

shortly comes the evening and it's time for the special occasion. you both get onto the carriage again, heading off to a restaurant. the restaurant is filled to the brim of posh people alike, halls decked with chandeliers and embellished with statues and paintings. the pair of you enjoy the night, relishing and dinning happily. jonathan brings you back home, taking you to the bedroom to surprise you with a bundle of flowers and a toy bear. he kisses you softly and gracefully on the head, reminding you of his love. you both tuck into bed and lay down for the night, sleeping peacefully into each other's arms.

type of gifts:

a basket full of roses, lilies, orchids and carnations. handwritten poem, a card enveloped and stamped with a red heart wax seal, chocolates from romania, dainty jewellery, toy bear, fragrance, a trip to paris, tickets to see an opera and a theatre performance, small trinkets, fruits, and a pocketwatch locket.

kevin lomax —

type of guy:

sugar daddy kevinnnnn

toxic but fine husband

will absolutely spoil you rotten, pampering you like a princess

love language is gift giving, physical touch, and acts of service

valentines plans:

first thing in the morning, breakfast's being sent to you at the penthouse. kevin leaves a note on the nightstand: "hey sweetheart, it's me. how was breakfast? it was good, right? i've called in your boss to let him that you're sick, so no need to go to the office. your whole day will be booked: spa treatment, nails, hair, and a private boutique booked so you can try on some new outfits that you'll be choosing for the evening. make sure you wear that lingerie i got you and don't miss any of those appointments. daddy's gonna have fun with you tonight.

love kevin xoxo"

you do as exactly he says, rushing up & down, excitedly getting changed. a black limo takes you to and back of all destinations, attending all your scheduled appointments. at the boutique, a blonde clerk waits for you, standing by a row of clothing racks with designer clothes hanged and heels below to select from. after carefully selecting, you choose a snug black dress and heels, fully dolled up for the occasion. a makeup artist quickly does your makeup, just in the nick of time kevin arrives, black waist coat and suit & tie. you exit the building to find him standing by the car. his eyes wonder around and check you out, hypnotised by your beauty. linking arm to arm, you two are driven to the wall street restaurant. the place is luxurious; interior design opulent and rich. kevin grabs a seat at the vip section, inviting some of his fellow law firm coworkers along. you cheers to a good night and dig in to the fine dining, enjoying the night. almost midnight, you and kevin return back home, immediately jumping into the jacuzzi.

you strip out of your clothes and wear the cute swim piece that kevin's bought for you— a black skimpy bikini that hugs all of your curves and cleavage. you sit back and relax with your man, peacefully sipping some champagne and enjoying each other's company. many drinks and pillowtalks later, the night ends with what you exactly expects: sounds of skin slapping and bed shaking; your moans echo throughout the bedroom. kevin's tall body thrusts repeatedly into you, grunting and groaning as he fucks you. lasting with the real pillow princess treatment, kevin worships your body and makes love to you, showing you who you really belong to. . .

types of gifts:

expensive makeup, luxury trips abroad, designer outfits, exclusive spa treatments, sexy lingerie, his black card for those shopping trips, perfume, deluxe jewellery and accessories, a bouquet of roses tied in a bow, heart-box of chocolates, expensive wine and champagne, adult toys (wink wink), a white teddy bear, polaroid photos of you and him

[zeestie]

୨ৎ rich girl ୨ৎ

I am so rich it is insane. I am the richest person to ever walk this earth. I have always been rich. I come from old money and my wealth just keeps on growing. I am deserving of all the money I have. I deserve to be showered with money. money is so easy to make. money has always been there. I never find it hard to make more money.

money just keeps on growing. money just keeps on coming from expected and unexpected sources. it is so easy to make money. I am a money making machine. I'm a magnet for money!! I love making money. I was born to be rich. it is my birthright. I'm rich. I am literally so rich it is insane. everyone wonders how I got this rich. I keep on getting money all the time. I make money in my sleep. I make money while having fun. I'm living my best life while also making money.

I make trillions every day. I am the first trillionaire ever to walk this earth. I broke records with the money I make. I make money the way I want to make it. I make money by inspiring others. I'm making money through helping others. all the money I have I got it cos I deserve it. I am so worthy of money.

people wanna give me money. people love giving me money. money is so fucking easy to make. money has always been there form me. I'm so loved by money. money loves me. I love money too, like it is not possible for me not to love her when she's always been there for me yk? money got me the lifestyle I want. I am blessed with the lifestyle I want, like God, thanks for all the money!!

I feel so happy that I get to make money and share it with others. I feel so relaxed and safe knowing that I don't have to work a day in my life. all the bills are paid for. I get to live anywhere. I am so excited to treat all my friends & family with the money I have. I am literally the rich aunt stereotype bumped to a 100!! it really do be so easy to make money!

I've never feared money cos I've always been abundant. I have been taught since I was a child that money is easy to make so that is why money is easy to make. I have amazing beliefs around money so that is what reflects back. my mind is so malleable, doesn't matter what I thought of before cos now ik for a fact that money is the most abundant resource in the world!! it is normal for anyone to get rich like millionaires are just regular people you see everywhere, I'm literally the perfect example of that. money has always been easy to make, it is literally paper, just a number.

I'm so grateful for the money I have right now. Thank you God for always helping me when it came to money. I am so grateful for all the freedom I get to have cos of the ridiculous amounts of money I got. my bank is full. people wonder how I got all this money. well it's with the power of my mind! I decided that I'm rich so instantly I became rich!!

[why-the-heck-not]

it's the year 2037 and a new month is ahead of you!! Time to spend 90% of ur paycheck today for all the subscription services that are pretty much necessary now (Your bank takes "payment fee" out of everything bill u pay, so u gotta pay some bucks extra for each) !! Your grocery store has a membership card that u have to pay for, if you want to even get inside. No way to get any movies/tv-shows/music without streaming services. The appliances in ur home are subscription-based usage fee (under the guise of "well, the software updates, u gotta pay and also have no option to opt out"), and most of the things you own, you basically just rent & never have the chance of ever paying enough to actually own them. You missed a payment and ur smart-fridge stopped working. You're trying to find a not-smart, non-AI fridge, but those are super expensive, and only for the rich who claim moral superiority over regular ppl bc "they don't use any of that brain-rotting AI-technology". You're trying to choose whether to use your coffee machine or your microwave for the month bc you can't afford to pay for both of those subscription fees this month. You've already used your monthly picture limit in your phone, and would have to update your subscription package for a more expensive one, if you wanted to take more

[bruciemilf]

So I've been thinking more and more abt the fact that the fandom credits Bruce's incompetence in adulthood to being rich, and sure, it definitely plays a part, but I don't really get...Where it stems from specifically?

First of all, I don't think I've ever even seen a Mention of cleaning, cooking, gardening, driving etc staff; Alfred's our multi purposed, tired king, but he doesn't seem to have any colleagues to speak of?

Second of all; The Waynes truly don't seem like the " having people waiting on them hand and foot" brand of rich people? Like, wasn't their simplicity and relatively down to earth-ness the main reason why Gotham loved them so much??

So! Bruce's isolation and general lack of self-care knowledge can't be all blamed on his money, but the fact that he truly...Didn't have anyone to look at to learn?

Alfred did his best of course, but this is a heavily traumatised 8 year old who refused to look at anyone as family in fear of losing them too for the longest time.

I'm just crying at the thought of Bruce having no one to teach him how to pay bills, or make an appointment at the dentist, or go grocery shopping by himself, to order for himself at restaurants, or cook himself dinner, or keep his place tidy.

Those are all very mundane but precious and valuable activities that parents teach and share with their kids, and Bruce didn't fully get that. So what he did do was make sure his kids knew how to do it all.

Tim doesn't understand why Bruce wants them to try cooking every night. Jason doesn't get why he has to join Bruce, to watch him withdraw money or open an account at the bank

Damian doesn't get why they practice appointments with the vet. Cass doesn't necessarily think a 2 hour tutorial on how to power up the washing machine is crucial to her education.

" Because I don't want you to be like me. And when I'm gone, I want to make sure you can take care of yourself."

That may be the wrong thing to say because the thought of Bruce dying like a normal person makes them sob

[rohroy]

Prepaid Cards – Empowering Secure Transactions in India’s Digital Payment Landscape | AGS India

Prepaid card market in India is projected to witness a CAGR of 31.5% during 2021-2025, reaching USD 89.8 billion by 2025, up from USD 30 billion in 2020.

[transgenderer]

A jitsuin (実印) is an officially registered seal. A registered seal is needed to conduct business and other important or legally binding events. A jitsuin is used when purchasing a vehicle, marrying, or purchasing land, for example.

The size, shape, material, decoration, and lettering style of jitsuin are closely regulated by law. For example, in Hiroshima, a jitsuin is expected to be roughly 1⁄2 to 1 inch (1.3 to 2.5 cm), usually square or (rarely) rectangular but never round, irregular, or oval. It must contain the individual's full family and given name, without abbreviation. The lettering must be red with a white background (shubun), with roughly equal width lines used throughout the name. The font must be one of several based on ancient historical lettering styles found in metal, woodcarving, and so on. Ancient forms of ideographs are commonplace. A red perimeter must entirely surround the name, and there should be no other decoration on the underside (working surface) of the seal. The top and sides (handle) of the seal may be decorated in any fashion from completely undecorated to historical animal motifs, dates, names, and inscriptions.

Throughout Japan, rules governing jitsuin design are very stringent and each design is unique, so the vast majority of people entrust the creation of their jitsuin to a professional, paying upward of US$20 and more often closer to US$100, and using it for decades. People desirous of opening a new chapter in their lives—say, following a divorce, death of a spouse, a long streak of bad luck, or a change in career—will often have a new jitsuin made.

The material is usually a high quality hard stone or, far less frequently, deerhorn, soapstone, or jade. It is sometimes carved by machine. When carved by hand, an intō ("seal-engraving blade"), a mirror, and a small specialized wooden vice are used. An intō is a flat-bladed pencil-sized chisel, usually round or octagonal in cross-section and sometimes wrapped in string to give a better grip. The intō is held vertically in one hand, with the point projecting from the carver's fist on the side opposite the thumb. New, modern intō range in price from less than US$1 to US$100.

The jitsuin are kept in secure places such as bank vaults. or hidden in a home. They are usually stored in thumb-sized rectangular boxes made of cardboard covered with embroidered green fabric outside and red silk or red velvet inside, held closed by a white plastic or deerhorn splinter tied to the lid and passed through a fabric loop attached to the lower half of the box. Because of the superficial resemblance to coffins, they are often called "coffins" in Japanese by enthusiasts and hanko boutiques. The paste is usually stored separately.

A ginkō-in (銀行印) is used specifically for banking; ginkō means "bank". A person's savings account passbook contains an original impression of the ginkō-in alongside a bank employee's seal. Rules for the size and design vary somewhat from bank to bank; generally, they contain a Japanese person's full name. A Westerner may be permitted to use a full family name with or without an abbreviated given name, such as "Smith", "Bill Smith", "W Smith" or "Wm Smith" in place of "William Smith". The lettering can be red or white, in any font, and with artistic decoration.

Since mass-produced ginkō-in offer no security, most people either have them custom-made by professionals or make their own by hand. They were traditionally made of wood or stone; more recently of ivory, plastic or metal, and carried in a variety of thumb-shape and -size cases resembling cloth purses or plastic pencil cases. They are usually hidden carefully in the owner's home.

A mitome-in (認印) is a moderately formal seal typically used for signing for postal deliveries, signing utility bill payments, signing internal company memos, confirming receipt of internal company mail, and other low-security everyday functions.

Mitome-in are commonly stored in low-security, high-utility places such as office desk drawers and in the anteroom (genkan) of a residence.

A mitome-in's form is governed by fewer customs than jitsuin and ginkō-in. However, mitome-in adhere to a handful of strongly observed customs. The size is the attribute most strongly governed by social custom. It is usually not more than 20 millimetres (0.79 in) in size. A man's is usually slightly larger than a woman's, and a junior employee's is always smaller than his bosses' and his senior co-workers', in keeping with office social hierarchy. The mitome-in always has the person's family name and usually does not have the person's given name (shita no namae). Mitome-ins are often round or oval, but square ones are not uncommon, and rectangular ones are not unheard-of; irregular shapes are not used. They can produce red lettering on a blank field (shubun) or the opposite (hakubun). Borderlines around their edges are optional.

Plastic mitome-in in popular Japanese names can be obtained from stationery stores for less than US$1, though ones made from inexpensive stone are also very popular. Inexpensive prefabricated seals are called sanmonban (三文判). Rubber stamps are unacceptable for business purposes.

[sixbucks]

Please understand what NOT using cash is doing !!!

Cash is important!

Why should we pay cash everywhere with banknotes instead of a card?

I have a $50 banknote in my pocket. Going to a restaurant and paying for dinner with it. The restaurant owner then uses the bill to pay for the laundry. The laundry owner then uses the bill to pay the barber. The barber will then use the bill for shopping. After an unlimited number of payments, it will still remain a $50, which has fulfilled its purpose to everyone who used it for payment and the bank has jumped dry from every cash payment transaction made...

But if I come to a restaurant and pay digitally - Card, and bank fees for my payment transaction charged to the seller are 3%, so around $1.50 and so will the fee $1.50 for each further payment transaction or owner re laundry or payments of the owner of the laundry shop, or payments of the barber etc..... Therefore, after 30 transactions, the initial $50 will remain only $5 and the remaining $45 became the property of the bank thanks to all digital transactions and fees.

Small businesses need your help and this is one way to help ourselves too. Pull small draws of cash out at a time and use that instead of tap, credit, etc.

When this is put into perspective, imagine what each Retailer is paying on a monthly basis in fees at 3% per transaction through their POS machine. If they have, for example, $50,000 in sales & 90% are by Card, they are paying $1500 in fees in ONE Month. $18,000 in a year! That comes out of their income every month. That would go a long way to helping that small business provide for its family!

Kelly Reedy