#he's so polite and friendly and he has never done anything wrong in his life

[lomotunes2008]

[masterj]

*Gasp!* Another chugger in yippee!

[riality-check]

Viktor does not have many friends at the Academy, but he is rarely alone. Such is the nature of university life. The academic environment is inherently social; he attends class with other students, eats alongside them, and must frequently bang on his wall so as to alert his neighbors that he can, in fact, hear… whatever activities they decide to do on weeknights. Being alone at the Academy is a difficult feat, and it is one that does not go out of his way to accomplish.

He has learned that surprises some of his classmates. They often remark, when they are paired with him for group projects, about their perceptions of him.

“I thought you’d be meaner.”

“I thought you’d be quieter.”

“I always assumed you were just shy.”

Every time, Viktor must refrain from rolling his eyes. Topside politeness is a strange thing, he has learned. It is very performative, with its big smiles and friendly, useless greetings. He finds it difficult to imitate - why, for example, ask someone “how are you?” if neither they nor him truly care for the answer? - and so he sticks to Undercity standards.

Nod politely as a greeting. Give people space unless they require conversation. Offer a chair or a coat or a snack if someone is in need, with the understanding that the debt will be repaid.

Back home, his parents were often praised for raising such a polite boy. Here, at least once a semester, someone comments on his standoffishness.

It does not matter. He is not here to slack off. He is here to learn. He does not need anything more than the pleasant, occasional company of his classmates, who, he is discovering, will offer their smiles but never their coats.

Every once in a while, he does get more. Someone will stay in his room for a night - they always think they are the ones in charge at the beginning, a fact that Viktor finds equally amusing and irritating - and coo sweet words about his appearance and his intellect.

He is lucky if they look at him the next morning. He learns the hard way that they are perfectly content with a trencher in their bed but never on their arm.

When this finally sinks in - it does not take long; he has always been a quick study - Viktor swallows back whatever odd thing it is that rises in his throat and determines that this attitude suits him perfectly well.

______________________________________________________________

The brace is simple in its concept but difficult to perfect. Considering the amount of time spent constructing his current cane a few semesters ago, Viktor is not surprised. Engineering for biological systems is far more complex than, say, pure mechanical engineering. Pain and discomfort, for example, are complicating factors for his leg bug not for air filtration systems.

Viktor would much rather design air filtration systems than leg braces or canes. They are far more interesting and useful on a larger scale. But the truth of the matter is that he cannot trust anyone else to construct these devices for him. Only he knows how they feel for his body, and the effort he would have to undergo to translate the abstract (but very real) sensations of wrongness, in all their varied forms, into words that another person can understand is not worth it. Not when he can just grab a wrench.

What is that saying? “If you want something done right, do it yourself.”

Story of Viktor’s life.

He sits on his bed, right leg crossed at an uncomfortable height over his left, and tightens a screw. The previous designs are all documented in his notebook, which he flips through using his unoccupied hand. With every problem he eliminates, a new one arises. It is the worst haggling he has ever partaken in.

The brace must be worn underneath his trousers; he will not wrinkle his uniform if he can avoid it. Until recently, this meant that the cold, harsh metal of the brace would chill and bite at his skin. He only had so much salve (fresh unopened tin, left in the communal bathroom for a week with no takers) left, and he intended to save it for injuries that mattered.

He tried once, a few days ago, with a long sock on underneath the brace, but it rolled down so often and so severely that in a fit of exasperation, he nearly cut it off with scissors. Then he remembered that his sewing kit did not have enough black thread to repair that level of damage.

He only had three pairs of socks left, as they had a proclivity for vanishing inexplicably each time he washed his clothes. So, he could not cut it.

This design should, hopefully, ��do the trick.” He attached cushioning (A petite girl he had taken a calculus class with, when she woke up the next morning in his room, asked, with a glance at the sewing kit left on his desk, if he could hem a dress for her. She repaid him by purchasing his next meal - real food, finally, not from the university - and letting him keep the scrap. He never saw her again.) to the parts of the brace most uncomfortable to wear.

All the old problems - tension, pressure, weight, bulk - have been resolved. There will only be new ones.

Viktor tightens the last screw. Time to see what those will be.

The brace is multifunctional. Primarily, its design is intended to correct the abnormal inward rotation of his right leg. Secondarily, it supports his knee and ankle to both allow his muscles to stop carrying that burden and prevent the joints from overextending and subluxating, as they often tend to do.

It will be uncomfortable, compelling his leg away from its natural state. But Viktor can live with discomfort if it is in exchange for improvement.

He has been haggling in this manner for his entire life.

With assistance from his cane, he stands. Then, he divides his weight evenly between his two own feet, holding his cane aloft.

There is the discomfort, as he had expected, but there is no pain.

He paces up and down the length of his dorm without his cane. His joints are relegated to a normal range of motion, which is restrictive but more stable. They do not feel as loose. A dull stretch, induced by the rigidity of the brace fighting against his body, along the side of his leg runs from thigh to calf, but that is all.

No other pain. No true pain, other than the dull ache of adjustment.

He nearly falls over with the realization before he catches himself on the wall. He has had days free of pain before, but they occurred far more often when he was a child. Now, they are so few and far between that he had nearly forgotten what it was like to have the distraction of it removed almost entirely. 

He can think more clearly without it whispering talking shouting in his ear. He can breathe more easily.

Walking is awkward, what with the new rotation and the added weight, but he conjectures that he will get acclimated to it. He wants to get acclimated to it.

Outside of his window, he has a nearly unobscured view of the Academy clocktower. It takes him one glance to realize he is very nearly late for his systems course.

In his haste, Viktor nearly forgets to bring his cane with him to class. With how his brace reduces the pain, it is merely a failsafe in the event his balance is compromised by the awkwardness of his gait.

He barely uses it. Once he gets used to the new positioning of his leg, walking is a little easier. Slower, but easier. And the whole time, his cane barely makes contact with the ground.

The whispers are loud as always.

“Did he get better?”

“Has he been faking?”

“I knew someone our age couldn’t actually need it.”

He holds his head up and ignores them. When he catches a look, he returns the stares and wins.

He knows he will never be able to run. He could not when he was a child, and the unfortunate fact that the many non-functioning components of his body will only degrade - a fact he greatly prefers not to dwell on - has prohibited the notion for the rest of his life.

For the first time, he wants to run. So badly, in fact, that it is heart that aches instead of his leg.

He walks into class without the assistance of his cane, with the brace hidden underneath his pant leg, and believes, entirely, that this could work. That maybe he can walk like this, with no outward signal that he is different. Non-functional. Built incorrectly in the compounding of each and every failure inflicted upon the Undercity.

Maybe this is something he can overcome with his intellect. He already crawled up. What is stopping him from walking upright?

What is stopping his brilliant mind from allowing him to run?

He spends all day testing this notion, barely using his cane.

Viktor should have known the haggling would not work entirely in his favor. It never has.

When his body comes to collect, he pays in full. With interest.

The other installments, if you're interested: 1, 2, 3.

[ghcstao3]

(scrapped) hogwarts professor!ghost x zoologist!soap very very old draft but :3 also peep ghost with glasses

-

Ghost’s social life has never been anything spectacular to begin with, but when he somehow manages to become the newest potions professor at Hogwarts, he finds it to be entirely lacking.

The balance he requires among work alone is enough to keep him busy nearly every waking hour of his days, and adding his personal life to his list of things-to-do, Ghost would surely end up with prematurely greying hair. 

(And who is he kidding—he’s already just about reached that point.)

So, it is safe to say that Ghost doesn’t get out much. It’s an unfortunate truth for his first couple of years teaching, but honestly, it isn’t much of a bother. Ghost is mostly happy, if a little stressed, and he’s more than lucky to be in his current position—that’s what he thinks, and that’s all that matters. Work gives him purpose.

At least, it’s all that matters until the universe decides it has other plans and introduces Ghost to a mildly bizarre man by the name of Soap.

Soap (real name currently unbeknownst to Ghost) approaches the professor while he shops for ingredients for a personal potions project. Soap is broad, attractive, and looks like he lives off one too many Invigoration Draughts a day. He greets Ghost with a manic smile in an attempt to act friendly, though the gesture isn’t at all helped by a body otherwise buzzing with energy. Everything about the man screams eccentricity, but then again—Ghost is a wizard. He’s always been bound to meet… interesting people.

“How much might you know about potions?”

Ghost blinks, genuinely surprised. Just from the stranger’s odd behaviour, Ghost had feared he’d earn a proposition, or that here, in the safety of the apothecary, the man would push to sell him something most probable to be illegal. 

But alas. An innocent question.

Ghost shoves the wiry bridge of his glasses further up his nose with his thumb, clears his throat. His fingers curl tight around the vial of mistletoe berries he holds as the stranger waits patiently for a reply.

“Well,” Ghost starts slowly, “considering I teach how to make them for a living, I would hope I’d know a thing or two.”

The man beams, eyes bright with gratitude Ghost is not yet worthy of.

“That’s perfect,” he says. “Then do you think you could help me with something?”

Politely, Ghost nods, though he has to wonder why the man hadn’t just gone to the shopkeep for advice first—but then, with a quick glance to the counter, he sees that said shopkeep is nowhere to be seen. His brows dip in a mild frown, not deep enough to be noticeable to anyone but Ghost himself.

“Alright, so—I have this hippogriff that I’ve been takin' care of and normally she isn’t so restless, but for whatever reason nothing I’ve done has worked to keep her calm for very long,” the stranger explains. “Potions are typically a last resort for me so I’m… I’m not sure what I should be making.”

“Uh,” Ghost says intelligently, sifting through his mind for an answer. He knows, he does, only, “I’ve never administered anything to something that wasn’t a wizard, but it should still work the same, with some adjustments.”

The stranger laughs. “‘It’ being…”

“Right, sorry.” Ghost clears his throat. His face warms with a blush, chest filled with passing embarrassment. He’s meant to be good, knowledgeable about these things. “The Draught of Peace. An anxiety reliever. But it’s a difficult potion to brew. You’d have to be experienced in potion-making to be certain nothing goes wrong.”

The stranger’s face falls. Ghost has already come to learn him to be rather expressive.

“Of course,” Ghost adds in a breath before he can stop himself. He isn’t sure why his mouth is still moving. “I could always make it for you.”

It's unfortunate that he can't find it in himself to regret the offer in any regard, after seeing the sheer and open look of hope it instills on the man's face.

[kteezy997]

6 Months- Part Ten//t.c.

Warnings: cursing, ex being toxic, lots of fluff, boob-obsessed Timmy

Cameron met Hayden for lunch a few days later. She picked out a really casual spot that had a nice brunch vibe. She didn't want it to feel too much like a date. She didn't want Hayden to get the wrong kind of idea.

She saw him come into the restaurant and she stood up as he came to the table. She gave him a friendly hug and smile. "I'm so glad you agreed to meet me."

"Yeah, I was surprised. I figured you were just gonna let your boyfriend take care of things." Hayden said smugly.

"Well, I wanted to talk to you, Hayden. Things got screwed up and I wanted to apologize for everything."

"Okay," he raised his eyebrows, waiting, "I'm listening."

Cameron did her best to ignore his arrogance and said, "I'm sorry for the way things ended. I owed you more than just a text." Even though at the time it was out of her hands, her break up with Hayden, she was ready to officially move on with Timmy. She was happy with him. "I want you to know that I always cared about you. I hope you find someone great."

The waiter came over, asking Hayden what he would like to drink and he said, "I don't care, something strong." he nodded to Cameron across from him, then looked back at the waiter, "This is my ex that cheated on me, broke up with me by text and now she's so sorry about it." he said, mocking her. The waiter, not knowing what to say, just walked away.

"Hayden, I didn't cheat on you." Cameron said in hushed tone.

"It fucking feels that way. I never thought you'd be such a whore, Cameron." His words were harsh and angry, but his eyes were melancholic. It was a hard blow for him, losing her, she could tell.

"What I did was wrong, but if you're going to continue to be nasty about it, then I'll leave." She knew she could have done more to ease his heartache, but she refused to continue to endure this verbal abuse. She knew it wouldn't make anything better. Not even Hayden.

He chuckled, "Well, all I gotta say is: I hope you and psycho Chalamet will be very happy together."

"He's not a psycho." Cameron retorted.

"Oh yeah? What do you call a guy that would manipulate photos to make it look like I was cheating on you in order to win you over? What kind of relationship is that anyway, sounds more like obsession to me. He'll probably end up killing you or something Cameron." he said taking a swig of his drink the instant the waiter set it down on the table.

"That's a horrible thing to say. You're completely wrong about Timmy." she said.

"Mmm, I wouldn't be so sure. Oh, and tell him thanks for the courtside seats, it was a lovely gesture." he raised his nearly empty glass to her. "Didn't do much to cushion the blow of him stealing my girl though." Hayden took another big gulp of his drink.

"Maybe you should slow down with the drinking, it's still morning, Hayden." Cameron cautioned, with genuine care.

Hayden scoffed, "I'm not any of your concern anymore, sweetheart. You made damn sure of that."

Their waiter came back over, "So, are we...ready to order?" The poor guy was obviously feeling awkward with the way Hayden was speaking to her.

"No, actually. I'm just leaving. But his drink is on me." Cameron looked at the waiter, kindly saying, "Thank you."

The young man nodded politely, "Very well, you can meet me up front whenever you're ready." He then walked on to service another table in the meantime.

Cameron smiled fakely at her ex-boyfriend, "Consider it another lovely gesture."

Hayden gave her a phony grin.

He wasn't ready to be an adult about the situation. But Cameron was ready to move on. With or without the closure she was hoping for. Perhaps this was the closure, and the reminder that her relationship with Hayden was doomed in and of itself.

She stood up, picking up her purse, "It's a shame it has to be this way. I hoped we could end things with good closure and some maturity. I guess that's not gonna happen. Have a nice life, Hayden." she turned and walked away to pay and didn't listen to another word from him.

.........

"So, how did it go?" Timmy asked her anxiously as she came into the house.

"Not great. But at least I tried."

"He didn't hit you, did he?" Timmy joked.

"No." she laughed, "He's just mad, which is understandable, I just wish it could have went better."

Timmy pulled her close to him, promising, "I'll treat you better than he ever did."

"I know." she grinned, "I never would have fallen in love with you if my relationship with Hayden was actually solid." she kissed his cheek and said, "I'm hungry. I left the restaurant before we even ordered, have you eaten?"

But Timmy didn't answer. He was frozen. She had never used the phrase 'fallen in love' about him, to him before. He was in a daze, not believing that she actually said it, even offhandedly.

"Timmy?"

His attention was now back on Cam, "Yea-yeah?"

"I asked if you had eaten yet." she giggled.

"Oh, no-no. Let's go, lunch should be ready any minute." he said, taking her hand, leading the way to the dining room.

.........

As time went on, Cam and Timmy got into a happy routine together. She got moved back into the house and she put her new office to use, returning to her work, and writing a new book. Timmy was elated that she was inspired, of course, but he was impatient to know what she was writing about.

"I'm not ready to tell you yet." she'd say to him. She wanted to give herself more time to see if her ideas bared fruit.

Paparazzi had caught them out together a couple of times. They looked quite like a couple, because they were. They held hands, walked arm in arm, and stole kisses from one another, not caring that they were being watched or that photos were being taken.

Those occurrences, as well as photos from the party they attended together a month prior, had sent the press and the internet into a frenzy. Neither of them made an attempt to deny anything when news outlets reached out to their agents. They just let the world talk.

The couple was excited to find out that Cam's agent scheduled her a book signing in London at the same time that Timmy was due to promote his new film, Wonka there. Even though it would technically be a work trip for them both, they were thrilled to spend time together in an entirely different setting.

...........

Cam felt like herself again, getting to meet with fans of her work, and talk to them, get to know them for a moment, and really put faces and names to the people that made her a successful author. She felt so happy and grateful.

She couldn't think of any better way to spend her time other than signing books for such sweet fans. Well, maybe spending time with her boyfriend was a close second.

The Wonka premiere and the book signing were happening at the same time, so she couldn't join him for that. But she was going to accompany him to the after party.

They had gone about getting her party dress as a little project to do together. It turned out absolutely stunning, Timmy had it designed and fitted especially for her. He had connections like that, of course. She was giddy, taking a part with him and the designers in making such a beautiful garment. She couldn't believe it was just for her.

Timmy met Cam at the hotel as she was getting her hair and makeup finished. "I gotta go get ready, babe." he said, standing behind her chair, looking at her in awe in the mirror. "You look...immaculate."

Cam smiled and leaned into his kiss that he placed on her cheek. "I'll see you soon." she cooed.

"I can't fucking wait to see you in that dress." he said with a sly grin.

..........

Cam was corseted into her dress with the help of some of her hair and makeup crew. She felt like an actual princess. Like Willy Wonka's princess of the chocolate factory. She knew that Timmy would absolutely love it and freak out once he saw her.

And he did.

Timmy came in just as they were making final adjustments to her look and he just stood there, looking at Cam, taking her in, all done up in her gorgeous purple dress. He was speechless, and he couldn't move.

"You need some water, Timmy?" Cam asked, with a laugh.

"Mm-mhmm." he hummed, taking the bottle of water from her, before taking a big gulp of it down and clearing his throat. "Cameron Reese, you're like a wet dream."

"Jesus, Timmy!" she hissed at him, then looked at her wardrobe helpers, "Can you please give us a few minutes alone?"

Timmy and Cam were then left by themselves in the room.

"Was that really appropriate to say, Chalamet?" she asked, slightly annoyed.

"Sorry, it was the first thing that came to my mind, fuck, you look incredible, baby." he took her hands, putting them both out to the side so he could get a better look at her. He then went off saying some stuff in French, softly and to himself, like he was awestruck.

"Timmy, I have no idea what you're saying." she giggled.

He shook his head, "Sorry, sorry. How about 'je t'aime?'" he grinned, pulling her into his embrace. He pressed his forehead adoringly to hers.

Cam melted, she put her hands on his arms, letting him kiss her forehead. She was so appreciative of and grateful for their life together. She couldn't help but think of how it all started, and she said, "I don't need six months, Timothee." she looked up into his green eyes.

"What do you mean?" he frowned, tucking a piece of her hair back.

"You've got me. You got me in two months." she shook her head in disbelief at how her life had turned out, especially the Timmy aspect, "It feels like a lifetime. I am so in love with you, Timothee Hal Chalamet."

He grinned widely, then leaned in, kissing her. They wrapped their arms around one another, lovingly ravaging each other while being careful to not ruin their clothes, hair, or Cam's makeup. It was a long, tender kiss that neither of them thought would last nearly two minutes. It was like an official declaration of their love. They pulled away and neither could speak, or even breathe properly.

"Um, we should...get going. Don't want to be late." Timmy pointed out.

"Yeah, yeah, it's just..." Cam had her hands on the bust of her dress, fidgeting with it a little bit.

"What, babe? You okay?"

"Just feels uncomfortable, under my boob. Can you help me?"

"Yeah, yeah, no worries."

Cam turned around, and he untied the corset in the back of her dress. Once it was loose enough, she brought the top of the dress down, and her breasts were free. She made the adjustment she needed to as Timmy looked on.

"Need me to help?" he asked, obviously more than willing.

"No, no, babe, I got it." she insisted.

"Cam, I'm sorry to say this, but you can't have those things out around me and expect me not to suck them." It was a wildly cheeky statement, but he said it like it was a straight fact.

Cam laughed, "You're ridiculous, you've seen them before." She recovered her chest with the dress, ready for it to be retied.

"But I love them.” he rambled on about her breasts, “They feel so good in my mouth-"

"Timmy! That's enough, now tie my dress, please."

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @chalametbich

[sgiandubh]

Hello! I am Caitriona anon. My ask was prompted by a comment from succulently speaking who commented in your post a few days ago “what has Sam done wrong and what exactly do you want him to do”? You responded he needed to step up his game. That’s why I asked about Caitriona because I thought it funny how much you post about Sam and what he should or shouldn’t be doing and I thought, I wonder why Caitriona doesn’t get that same treatment? I've been following you since you got here. I understand your position. My only quibble is I don’t think of them as one entity and I think Cait especially has pushed against this for years. She’s offended at the notion. As I said, of course it's your blog and you can post whatever you'd like and certainly don't owe me an explanation, but I thank you for the one you gave anyway. I’ll continue to read you because I enjoy you. I hope I didn’t offend or that I was impertinent.

Dear (returning) Caitriona Anon,

For an Anti, you sound pretty literate and polite. So, I am going to answer you and try to keep this dialogue line open. Try me: keeping dialogues open is my bread and butter, IRL. Has been so for twenty years.

Thank you for understanding my position, but I do not really need to be 'understood', like a minor Romantic poet by his posterity. I try very hard to rationalize yours and I believe it is your constitutional right to believe what you want about this saga. Conversely, it is my prerogative to believe exactly what I want about it, based on what I do consider to be relevant facts. Not social media, press circus or PR induced tacky blogger manipulation.

Having said that, it is also my constitutional right to express my opinions and try to encourage others to do so, in a no-drama, friendly environment. It would also seem that determined Mordor to marginally step up their game, for I seem to be the nightmare these people collectively manifested every single time they howled 'the shippers are stupid', on full moon nights.

Shippers are everything but stupid, pumpkin. They are witty, funny and completely immunized to bullshit. For rhetoric bullshit with honors is your question: why Caitriona doesn’t get that same treatment?

You know very well why and I am going to tell you a Romanian proverb: cine nu muncește, nu greșește. Loosely translated: no work, no mistakes. How do you want me to say anything about a statue, who doesn't show us anything else about her life anymore, spare her outfits, her make-up and some rare events, with or sans the PA? Oh, and marGINally, her erratic business projects, for ever ongoing, hinted and never ever, God forbid, materialized? SAG-AFTRA strike? News of it never seemed to have made it to Caitrionaland. Israel-Palestine conflict? Prudent silence, but hello Tilda, darling, how are you. Ukraine? Last I heard/seen, a short appeal for helping the refugees and then crickets. Women's rights? Again, a short snippet on Persia, then mum. Just what the fuck is this supposed to be? Surely not a coherent PR strategy for a gifted, intelligent and fun (yes, fun!!) 44 year old actress who wants to keep her lucky strike going on! Let me tell you: she doesn't come across as dignified. She comes across as despising, condescending and entitled. Too cool for school, too sexy for your car, peons.

She is not Queen Victoria, for crying out loud, and we are definitely not amused!

You then proceed to say 'she pushed against it for years'? Please, do not insult my intelligence! She pushed against shippers who deface the nice Narrative, when she needed sympathy and massive support for her Belfast promo, unwittingly making a major PR blunder and for ever fracturing this fandom in at least two savagely antagonistic camps. Then, a cold, totally DGAF attitude, including towards her stans: tough to be her stan, when your Goddess is more silent than a Poor Clare (pun totally intended) nun! And she denied being an item with S (which is a complete, pious lie), because that is the Narrative, ever since IFH.

So, it's safe to say: yes, public Caitriona Balfe is dismissive of the notion, but since when is social media indicative of an undeniable or even intimate truth, especially in that particular world of hers? Oh, and by the way: sorry to be pedantic, but - it's offended by the notion, not 'at the notion'. Simple curiosity: you translate your thoughts from which language, exactly? My bet would be either German: bei, or Russian: обидеться на - yes: literally 'offended at'.

My complete Romanian proverb includes a conclusion. In full, it would be: cine nu muncește, nu greșește, dar nici nu reușește. No work, no mistake, no success.

How I wish to be proven wrong, Anon, on that one: you can't even imagine! Thank you for the time you took to answer me. I am afraid we agree to disagree. Change my mind? Not in a million years.

[confusedshades]

Danny's really confused. The regular people he runs into everyday all seem so suspicious of him. It's gotten so bad that sometimes mothers with young kids will cross the road when they see him, and people automatically move away from him when he's walking around all confused after spending so much time in class that he's basically asleep. (It stops him from walking into anyone which is a great plus)

What does bug him however, is that the rogues and vigilantes have started trying to follow/approach him and he doesn't want anything to do with any of them. No Thankyou. He's done with that life.

Penguin tried sending him a job offer, Two Face straight up kidnapped him, RIddler... okay Danny doesn't know what the Riddler was trying to do but he wasn't sticking around when the whole place was basically abandoned-Gotham-warehouse meets mad-scientist-lab. Harley and Ivy were at least polite and fed him while chatting, and Catwoman dropped off a USB stick with a sticky note that had a lipstick kiss print.

Then the vigilantes started up. Batman and Robin just straight up appear from nowhere, and Danny knows they're not portalling because after Wulf was done teaching him, he can sense when portals open up around him. Red Robin and Oracle keep watching him though he's never seen Oracle in person before and Red Robin tends to either stare at him unnervingly from ground level or just perch on whichever rooftop is nearby. Nightwing hasn't made an appearance yet, but Danny's got a bet with Sam and Tucker that he'll try the Good Cop routine with him through conversation. His whole shtick is conversation and quips so Danny's pretty sure he'll win that bet.

Until Red Hood drops in on him being mugged by Black Mask's men. or well. Attempted mugging. The False Facers weren't having a good time and Danny was too sleep deprived from finals to actually pay attention. Anywho. Red Hood got him away from the mugging scene, offered him a band-aid for the small scratch he'd gotten from somewhere (Danny's pretty sure he fell face first into a wall while the goons were talking but he's not going to say that. It's so embarrassing.)

Hood tells him "Look kid, you're going to have to make a choice soon because all of Gotham's holding it's breath to figure out which way you'll go. Outsiders don't usually come to Gotham, and if they do and are as friendly as you? Hell, there's something wrong with them. so they either become capes or crooks. So you gotta decide which way you'll have to go eventually." Hood then promptly grappels away and Danny is struck with the realisation that The Crime Lord Of Crime Alley Explained Things To Him But Didn't Expect Anything From Him. So Danny of course, goes to investigate what he meant.

Some various conversations later, (several of which were interrupted, one by Waylon literally grabbing Hood's leg and yanking him into a fight?) Danny decides to become a member of Red Hood's network. Why? The guy cares about the people around him, and has dental. Plus he didn't actually presume anything of Danny. (And Danny became a bit of a sucker when he saw how charming Hood's crooked grin was and how his smoker's voice didn't hide his obvious youth)

Danny doesn't get why everyone looks at him suspiciously hes just a guy he hasn't even turned phantom since he got to Gotham like seriously this is the most normal he's been in years why are they looking at him like he announced he was going to be a villain

Gotham as a whole does not trust the new guy who moved there everyone knows who he is because he's so kind clearly a ploy to lure them into a false sense of security so they'll be shocked when he becomes a new rouge well not this time oh no

Or

Danny moves to Gotham and no one trusts him no matter what because every time a goodytwoshoes from out side the city tries to be kind and helpful they end up twisted and insane and they ain't bying that this kid is all sunshine and rainbows

[softschofield]

y’all: george hates women

george: 

states multiple times that it is a personal point for him that elizabeth must be consulted about business decisions, even the ones that won’t directly impact her, and that her opinion is important to him

allows her genuine freedom in their marriage, is happy to hear that she has an active social life and friends in london, and, rather than being threatened by her sexuality and the effect she has on men, proudly boasts that she has “charmed the breeches” off his business associates for their own ends and of her own accord

involves her as an equal in his schemes and values her ideas and thoughts

genuinely recognises how harmful his jealousy has been, apologises to her and holds himself accountable instead of pulling a “i’m too good for you” psychological manipulation guilt-tripping trick a la ross, and actually changes his behaviour - and, after her death, realises she had died trying to recreate the conditions of the first birth and holds himself fully responsible for putting her in a position where she felt she had to do that

recognises her intelligence, business sense, political adeptness, and humour - something none of the other male characters have ever done

is consistently shown to admire her - but not to put her on a harmful pedestal

is physically affectionate in public, but not overbearing or smothering - and in private, he mostly waits for her to make the first move so she doesn’t feel uncomfortable

ardently hopes for a daughter, despite the fact girls held little worth, and is joyful when ursula is born

never once puts a female servant in an uncomfortable or threatening situation, and is consistently shown to treat bessie with genuine respect, friendliness, and kindness

is utterly faithful to elizabeth - the only husband in the show to be so

when he’s courting elizabeth during her marriage to francis, he doesn’t pressure, threaten, or try to force himself on her - he simply puts it on in the open that he has feelings for her and leaves it to her to follow him up on it if she so chooses

during her second pregnancy, far from being the average husband who took a hands-off role and chalked it up to women’s business, he tells elizabeth he’ll be at her beck and call for anything she needs or desires

is shown to be regretful and physically upset by the fact he has to sentence a girl to prison for a crime he knows full well she didn’t commit and allow a man he knows is guilty to go free. george gets himself into these situations with bad people where he’s in well over his head and can’t back out, we know this, he can’t say no - but though it by no means excuses it, he clearly felt guilty about it and knew what he was doing was wrong. same thing with the bet he placed on whether or not monk could sleep with demelza - it was a classic “you’re popular and i wanna be popular so i’m gonna put myself into positions i’m not comfortable being in and laughed along with stuff i’m actually disgusted by so you’ll like me and think i’m cool”

his relationship with elizabeth slowly evolves from her being so reluctant and so unhappy that she numbs herself with drugs just to cope with being married to someone she doesn’t want and doesn’t love and only accepted because she was sacrificing herself for the good of her son - to a healthy, genuine love where she is respected, where she feels genuinely attracted to george and freely initiates sex (something we’ve never seen her do because her past experiences with sex have been so unpleasant and usually forced on her) (because she’s a mirror of everything men want her to be and what they project onto her, not ever herself - until george), where she smiles more than we’ve ever seen her, where her talents and mind are being appreciated, where she can finally blossom and feel valued, where she is happy. she’s a female character who is happiest when she’s in a romantic relationship, who craves intimacy and companionship, who wants to be domestic - and that’s valid. but not only does george give her all of that, but with him, she’s also made to feel important and considered - she’s in a powerful position where she can finally let her own mind shine and speak up; she has her freedom; she’s given a voice. not only does she get what she’s always wanted - she gets more, gets things she never even allowed herself to wish for. it’s a beautiful depiction of slowly falling in love and it’s the most healthy, equal, and functional romantic relationship in the entire show - and this is coming from someone (me) who suffered through an abusive relationship that was founded on unfounded and destructive jealousy and possessiveness.

y’all: unlike ROSS

ross: 

took sexual advantage of the power imbalance between a 13-year-old girl who was his servant and himself as her master, and married her. demelza was 13 when he took her on as his scullery maid, and barely any older when he slept with her. i cannot empathise that enough. he calls her ‘child’

raped elizabeth, and directly caused her death because of it

gaslit demelza for being understandably hurt and angered by him cheating on her, and framed it as being her fault for over-reacting

doesn’t consult demelza on anything, even things that directly effect her life and the lives of her children, and frequently underestimates her capabilities and intelligence, to her detriment 

“your place is where i say it is”

“you’re not required to understand it [their relationship], you’re required to accept it as a fact of life”

brings up hugh when demelza is grieving for julia after sarah’s death

uses tess for his own personal gain, never apologises to demelza for cheating on her a second third time, and cruelly blames tess for falling for him when the ruse is over and he no longer needs her

unhealthily idolises elizabeth solely for her looks and the image he’s painted of her in his mind, and never sees or appreciates her actual personality and mind

instead of recognising that demelza is silently begging to be rescued from this social situation because she feels frightened and threatened, he blames demelza for leading monk on and putting herself in a situation where she could almost be sexually assaulted. he literally says it was her fault that monk got the wrong idea

he literally gaslights her again and tells her it was her fault for how she was treated in london because she’s an uncultured country girl, i cannot make that any clearer

is literally never there for his wife and children when they need him

helps a man who murdered his wife out of jealousy flee the country so he won’t go to prison

blames keren for being murdered

like francis made elizabeth miserable by placing her on an unobtainable pedestal and thinking her so out of his league, only reachable by ross, despite the fact she was his wife and she was ready to care for him (side note: in the first season, before and just after her marriage to francis, elizabeth has hobbies - the harp, reading, needlework, walks; she quickly loses them after her marriage), ross made her miserable by simultaneously worshipping her for superficial reasons as this idol he’s created in his head rather than the person she actually is, and condemning her for qualities he’d projected onto her (“she saw his house, his name, his mine”). george alone sees her true personality and character and values her for it 

makes demelza miserable with his constant jealousy and mistrust

causes a huge fuss whenever they go to a party or social gathering that demelza wants to go to, asks to leave even if she’s having fun and clearly wants to stay with her friends, and takes it for granted that they won’t go in the first place even if she clearly wants to. make no mistake: that’s not cute, relatable introversion - that’s abuse

george: you’re a goddess and if you never anything whatsoever during your pregnancy i will do anything to get it for you, you deserve the world, please let me get you some cake in bed. ross, after bringing up a plate of breakfast to demelza once while she’s heavily pregnant: is there anything else your ladyship needs

also ross’ entire classism where he can get away with things commoners would hang for and act out and show no remorse because he has an ancient family name and an unshakeable position in society, and the fact that his interest in the peasants is just a hobby and he treats them like pets, and he bullied the grandson of a vulgar who was daring to try and rise above his station and make something of himself, while simultaneously raising a common girl into the position of a lady and giving demelza everything he condemns george for

there are just so many times my jaw dropped at the screen because of ross’ blatant misogyny, i genuinely cannot remember them all. but they’re disgusting

[marunalu]

Friendly reminder why bakugous "apologie" sucked and is NOT good. Because it was 85% self-justification (why he did it), 14% victim blaiming izuku (because bk misinterpretet izukus personality and actions) and 1% "sorry for everthing I have done so far" (very vague for someone who normally cant shut the fuck up and always says what is on his mind!)

Just for the record, an apologie, one that comes from the heart and you REALLY mean should not be about YOUR motives and YOUR feelings, WHY YOU DID WHAT YOU DID! The only thing that matters are the feelings of the person YOU hurt with YOUR words and actions. In not one word did bk EVER mention the pain and suffering izuku went through because of him! Not once! Instead he layed the blame on izuku, for HIM thinking izuku was looking down on HIM (a completly ridiculus claim by itself). By doing that he makes it sound like as if izuku is also partly fault for their fucked up relationship, something that isnt true one bit!

Explaining to your victim why you did what you did, espicially if other people are listening, who have no fucking clue what exactly happened between you two, just serves to get sympathy points from both sides, so people will forgive you easier and give you a pass (so pretty much what 90% of the fandom is doing, because bk is their baby boy who never did anything wrong in his life. Everyone else is at fault here, okay!).

The last part, "sorry for everthing I have done so far", is not there to make izuku feel better. Bakugou said it to make HIMSELF feel better! It was something that he was carring with him for a while and he wanted this feeling to go away and be DONE with! And for that he choose a moment, when izuku was neither physically nor psychically able to handle or react to what bk said to him. Till now izuku has said NOTHING to bk about the apologie. He neither accepted it, nor did he not accept it. The apologie was something bk wanted and needed, to make HIMSELF feel better, izukus feelings had nothing to do with it. Otherwise he would have at least say a few words about izukus pain and suffering he had to endure for OVER 10 years, bakugou is a big part responsible for!

And the fact that izuku is STILL calling himself "worthless" and "shitty nerd", (exactly THE insults bk used to call him as) should actually be a big hint to readers, that he HASNT overcome his trauma and the abuse and what bk did to him over a decade is still deeply burned in his heart and soul! But yeah people, keep shipping this disgusting dogshit and thinking to romantice such abusive relationships is hot shit!

An other reminder, izuku asked bk NOT to call him hy his first name in the most polite way possible. In japan only the people you are very close with, call you by your first name, everything else is considered as extremly disrespectful. If you call someone else by his first name, but that person doesnt want that, he/she will tell you to stop. The fact that izuku told bk not to do it, with a very uncomfortable expression on his face should tell everyone enough honestly!

In the end bk said it the best: "nothing will change between us!" Bk never was izukus friend and its not something he drives to become.

So to everyone who happens to read this, here is a well meant hint. The next time you have to apologie to someone you hurt, make sure it comes from a "I want that person I hurt to feel better" place and not from a "I want to be able to sleep at night again" place.

[postsforposting]

This may be a difference of terminology, but no. No matter how you're raised, what you're taught, you can recognize that what's happening is wrong and unfair. Claiming that people raised by cults can't have empathy is no different from those same cults claiming that everyone else is incapable of love--it's literally the same statement, rephrased to sound secularly scientific and indisputable from your own political point of view, you know, just like theirs is phrased from their POV. It's not different when you do the same thing they do.

What happens IRL when you're trapped in a cult like that? When you know something you're taught is wrong, but doing anything against that cult will earn you a beating? Death? Things worse than death? What are your options? Do you do the "right thing" and risk your life, or do you follow what you're taught because it's not worth your life?

>who may have had the purest heart but would say and do the cruelest things because they had been said and done to them for so long

No. It's because this is what they've been taught is good and right, and they've been taught that doing anything else, even questioning, earns you a beating. You cannot ask anyone for help, you can't go somewhere else for something better, for different ways to do things. You have nothing and no one to tell you anything different. People literally do not know any better, and they have been conditioned to fear questioning, to fear anything but tradition, to fear the new, to fear change, because all of those things earn you consequences worse than death. People cannot change unless change is allowed, unless being wrong is allowed, unless you are allowed to ask questions and be wrong and change things and experiment. In cults, none of that is possible, and all those things carry consequences worse than death, because all those things mean anyone can be right and improve things, the authority can be wrong, equality has to be accepted over hierarchy, and strict control can't be maintained.

On top of that, again, people do not have room to do anything but what they were taught, regardless of their own internal beliefs. It does not matter what they feel is right, they literally can't do anything except what they're allowed to. Crowley could not save someone from suicide and abject poverty without being punished for it. That's not a metaphor, that's literally what happens irl too. Gabriel couldn't stop armageddon without a lobotomy either, being stripped of his self. That's what cults do: who you are is overwritten with their demands, and god help you if you try to assert yourself--do I need to remind everyone whose side god's always on?

You perform to specifications, as it is written, or you suffer. It is not an accident of framing that the show brings up "it is written" so often: this is how it's meant to be, your defiance carries divine consequences, no one will help you. Angels don't have friends, it'd be a funny world if demons went around trusting each other.

And here everyone is.....affirming that people who had the misfortune to be born in cults, or even just to abusers, are dirty people, less than.

>There's nothing in GO that indicates Crowley feels bad about himself or anything he's done

Did we watch the same show? "I didn't mean to fall, I didn't want to be a demon, all I did was ask questions". That whole scene in his flat from S1 is angst over his status and fall. He doesn't regret his actions, but that is not the same as saying he doesn't feel bad about himself or doesn't feel like he's accepted. He was violently ejected from heaven and all of hell treats him as an outcast too: we never see him having friendships with the other demons, with humans, anyone really until S2, but even Nina, Maggie and Muriel aren't really "friends" so much as friendly acquaintances. He does not think he did anything wrong, but that is not the same as being unaffected by the abuse he received for his actions. He is absolutely affected, we see it in how he acts. He is not lying when he says he did nothing wrong; he's affected by what happened and how he was treated. Those things have consequences on how he sees the world and how he acts.

He feels like he has to hide his eyes, his face, from people in order to be accepted. Either he can't change his eyes or he chooses not to; either way, it's something he explicitly hides from everyone because it would get him rejected, people would treat him differently, because it is a mark of his fall, his otherness, his rejection. He even hides it from Aziraphale, even in the shop, until fairly recently.

It's not that Crowley wants to be forgiven, it's that he did nothing wrong and falling was an injustice to everyone. Those are different things. Undoing the fall doesn't undo the harm done because that would not acknowledge that it was an injustice in the first place, nor would it prevent anything similar from happening again, nor does it fix the same system of control heaven still runs in itself. Abusers saying they're sorry for kicking you out on the street as a child doesn't change that they did that, and it doesn't change that they haven't changed; all it really is, is them wanting another go at you. That's what the offer to be an angel reads as. It's not safety, even if it is safety from one half of the system, because you're going right back to the other half. If mom and dad don't live together and both are cunts, neither is an option.

That's how it reads when Az offers forgiveness to Crowley, even though Az doesn't mean it that way. Az actually means that he recognizes what just happened would require consequences, either from him or from someone else, like we see with forgiving Maggie's rent: he rightfully could demand she leave and pay up, because those are the consequences of nonpayment, but he instead waives the consequences, ie forgives. When he offers forgiveness as an angel of god, he's saying that he does not want consequences to happen, he does not wish for god's wrath--either because he knows that wrath is unjust or disproportionate, or whatever other reason. His language for that is forgiveness.

We are shown over and over again that Az learns heaven judges for inconsequential things, and judges harshly, without trying to find out why people do what they do, without understanding anything, and without caring about....anything. Heaven set up Job to fail; they set up Elspeth and Morag; they set up all of hell. How is that fair? We see Az learn over and over that things aren't so simple as heaven claims, and by the end he flat out doesn't want to go with Metatron after breaking with heaven in s1.

Unfortunately, Az uses the same language for personal stuff when he thinks he's been wronged, because humans do that too, instead of saying something like "I'm not going to hold this against you" or just plainly "I'm going to overlook what you just did" the same way Crowley did with most of what Az said in S1 at the bandstand. What he meant after the kiss depends on how that scene is read; I think Az is performing for Metatron and speaking in code, while Crowley isn't. Crowley wants to be romantically together; Metatron just threatened Crowley in order to get to Az because Az is involved with him, and so that relationship has to cool down if not end on all levels but the professional in order to keep Crowley safe. Thus, the only response to the kiss while Metatron watches has to be "I forgive you", regardless of what else Az feels, or what other layers are going on. That forgiveness functions to protect Crowley in two ways, by rejecting the relationship in front of the Metatron, and also--if forgiveness works the way it ought--by protecting Crowley from anyone else's holy consequences for "sullying" an angel, for tempting an angel, however you want to interpret that. Did Az mean to hurt Crowley with that line, did he wholeheartedly want to cause pain? That's a different layer, and he could have, but I don't think that's the main reason he said it. He did not want Crowley to leave; if his aim was to hurt him, if he was acting in anger, he wouldn't have been upset Crowley walked out, unlike the fight at the bandstand.

There's also the fact that we were shown in all the flashbacks that their coded tip-offs that something is afoot are all them saying wacky, completely wrong things like "Gabriel is an expert in human births, he saw Eve get born", and other flat out wrong things. Az opened his speech to Crowley with a lot of other flat out wrong things, but this time it was all wrong things about themselves, and those are harder to follow when it's your own business on the line rather than someone else's. Like how it was hard for Sitis and Job to follow the wacky cues about their kids, because it was their own kids, even though Crowley and Az could read each other just fine through the bullshit. It's different when it's someone you know, instead of random bodies.

You know one reason people do feel compelled to stay in cults or go back? When they have siblings or pets they can't get out. You know, hostages. Like the earth and humans are hostages to god in GO. How demons and angels are hostages to the system too, even if they don't know it, or can't do anything about it themselves, like all the demons resenting the freedom Crowley has, and Muriel having no one to talk to her entire existence. The funny thing about Az going back is that he has the same idea that he can change the system that Crowley as an angel thought was possible. Everyone always thinks "why don't you just" and "why can't you just" because they haven't lived it, because it doesn't make sense. There isn't sense to be had, is the problem. Even people who want to change, can't, because they can't trust the system. You can't put trust where there isn't any. It's a catch-22: you need your end result in order to make the change, but you can't make the change without having finished your overhaul and gotten the result. IRL it's possible to create change like this, but it's extremely slow. It's like getting rid of corruption and bribes as a way of doing business. That's why S3 is probably going to have a complete revolution/rebellion.

Ok wait wait…

In season 1 Crowley says

“I’m a demon, I’m unforgivable, that’s what I am.”

And i just realised that Aziraphales ‘I forgive you’s’ arnt what I thought they were. To Crowley, and any religious traumatised person, they sound like a condemnation or pointing out of wrongdoing.

But what Aziraphales ACTUALLY trying to do is speak to the deepest part of Crowley that Aziraphale knows feels unloveable and unforgivable.

Crowley pretends to be evil, going around asserting how deplorable he is at every opportunity. But the flashbacks have been all about Aziraphale getting to see past that.

Aziraphale says ‘I forgive you’ because that’s just the language he knows. But he’s really trying to say:

‘I see you, I see what you believe you are and what you pretend to be. And I disagree. I believe you are worthy of grace, acceptance and unconditional love regardless of what you’ve done.’

And that’s why he was so EXCITED by the Metatrons offer. He thought that finally Heaven is seeing what he sees. Finally Crowley will see his own worth, he will see himself the way Aziraphale sees in him.

His last ‘I forgive you’ wasn’t intended a condemnation or a stab at Crowley. Aziraphale was also angry, he was also hurt. He believed Crowley was making the wrong choice out of bitterness and was running away like he’s done before. But he sees Crowley, he knows his heart. And he was trying to tell him that regardless of what you do or say, I will always forgive you. Even as you stand here crushing me into a thousand pieces, I will forgive you.

And that’s so Aziraphale. Of course he gets his heart broken and the first thing he does is say ‘I forgive you’.

[lomotunes2008]

[masterj]

Requested by @bagheerasun , here's Yippee Hodge-Podge Chugger!

Speaking of, I kinda can see him being the 'autism creature' of the show, he's usually the quiet kid and he's such a nerd about all the different engines, rolling stock, specialized equipment and trivia about Chuggington in general, did they SERIOUSLY say "Let's not only give him a BANGER unique design, but also one of the most relatible personalities of the whole show"

Tbh, I was on a bit of a kick for him when I was younger, he used to be my second favorite character after Wilson, they were also the first two diecast engines I got.

Brewster is my second favorite now, but they did both his character and voice dirty in season 6...😔💔

Hodge stayed mostly in-character though, thank God, even though I haven't yet put togethor my top ten, I'm sure he's still in it.❤️

[pennylanewrites]

Saiko Metori relationship headcanons<3

(gn!afab!reader)

I believe in Saiko Metori supremacy and I also had a dream where I was dating him so here you go <3

~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~

→ we all know what he was like when he first transferred to P.K.

→ let’s pretend he didn’t transfer for Kokomi

→ you were seated behind him and you were pretty much the only person that talked to him normally

→ would never admit it but felt grateful to you for being so nice to him

→ before you knew it the both of you were hanging out at the school’s rooftop, eating his very fancy sushi

→ he’s actually really sweet and caring, you just have to help him let his guard down

→ he likes you so much, like he’s down astronomically bad but he would not admit it

→ you ask Aiura to find your soulmate and she says it’s metori and that’s when it hits you

→ everything made so much sense, the arm around your shoulders when passing a group of guys, the little kisses on your cheek as he greeted you

→ you tell him to meet up at the rooftop when school’s over

→ he shows up worried, thinking he did something wrong, though he played it cool

→ you basically admit your feelings, thinking he would leave but all he does is cup your cheeks with his hands and peck the tip of your nose

→ you make it official after two or three dates

→ first kiss is definitely not his first in general, but it was so innocent and sweet and eeeeek

→ happened while you were nervous about a test, he just leans down like ‘stop worrying so much’ and just kisses you

→ after that you two can’t keep your hands or lips off each other

→ he needs to have a hand on the back of your neck or around your waist and you have to kiss his cheek every five minutes (as a reassurance that you’re there for each other)

→ really fun dates! amusement parks, zoos, aquariums, strolls around town with a coffee in hand

→ you truly make him another man and he realises there’s other good in life than money

→ you bring him home during holiday season and he’s SO formal and polite and shy that you don’t recognize him anymore

→ your friends(probably toritsuka) make an innuendo about seggsy time and something dies inside him bc ‘oh my god I haven’t even thought about that’ ‘what if they don’t want to have sex?’ ‘wait, what if they do?! I’m not ready yet!’

→ you make him admit he actually likes Nendou and thinks of him as a good friend bc ‘babe, you need friends’ ‘I have you’ ‘I’m your partner’ ‘a friendly partner!’ ‘Metori!’

→ you call him Tori or Tori-chan and he blushes hard every single time he hears his nickname come out of your lips

→ he would call you love or darling or sweetpea

→ thinks anything you wear looks hot and doesn’t care if half your ass is out

→ ‘wear what you want I can fight�� mentality

→ POSSESIVE!! IN A GOOD WAY!!

→ huge on pda, but not in a disgusting, makes your friends uncomfortable way

→ will kiss your lips if someone stares at you intensely

→ will also walk behind you at school corridors

→ ‘why is your skirt so short?:(’ ‘he was looking at your butt’ ‘pull your socks down’ ‘thigh-highs are only for me to see’

→ doesn’t do it in a toxic way though, he says most of it as a joke!!

→ very self-conscious bc most people used him for money in the past:(

→ please reassure him constantly with lots of hugs and words of affirmation

→ you make him noodles every once in a while and he calls it pleb food but he loves it (this is also canon I think)

→ you go to his house everyday after school

→ hanging out in his HUGE room, trying on his fancy suits and making fun of him

→ he just sits on his bed and looks at you lovingly, chin propped up on his palm

→ kinda jealous bc his suits look so good on you

→ daily naps in the most intimate positions

→ he’s the little spoon!!!! most of the time!!!

→ or he’d just lay on top of you to hear your heartbeat

→ when he’s the big spoon he nuzzles his head in the crook of your neck and hums a song until you fall asleep

→ not in a sexual way at all, but he likes when you wear his shirts and just underwear

→ you just look so fucking cute okay?

→ he plays you the piano:):):)

→ even teaches you his favorite melodies (if you don’t already know how to play)

→ on bad days you’ll sit on his lap, facing him, and you’ll hide your head in his neck so he can play something on the piano for you

→ big fan of the Harry Potter movies idk why

→ you two have a marathon sleepover twice a month at his home cinema

→ the first ‘i love you’ came from you when he tied your shoes so you wouldn’t have to bend down

→ he says it back IMMEDIATELY with a HUGE blush on his pretty face

→ after that he says it ALL the damn time and even texts you little I love yous and paragraphs, especially when he knows you’re sleeping

→ you know that hair colour? He gets it professionally done

→ when you say you’re pretty good at dying and cutting hair, you’re his hairdresser once a month

→ he even suggested you dye a strand of your own hair the same colour as his

→ and you do!!!and it’s the cutest thing ever!!!

→ everyone teases the shit out of you both for being so cringe but you LOVE IT

uhhh the next ones are suggestive? just some intense snogging and one mention of future seggs

→ heated! makeout! sessions!!!! on his king-sized bed!!!!

→ he leaves hickeys everywhere! bc he says they look pretty on you

→ would buy you the best and most expensive concealer though so you can hide them for school

→ thigh man! squeezes your thighs, kisses them, marks them, sleeps on them later!

→ ‘they’re just so squishy and cute, love’

→ loves to play with your hair or have a hand in them, massaging your scalp

→ might pull on your ponytail bc you let out the hottest gasp ever

→ wants to have his hands up your shirt at all times, even while you’re studying or watching a movie

→ ‘your boobs make my cold heart feel warm’

→ how can you resist if he says shit like that?

→ wants you to unbutton his shirt while making out and trail your fingers up and down his abs

→ he has ONE pierced nipple and you can not change my mind

→ you kiss down his chest and peck his pierced nipple while making out and he’s FERAL

→ gets so hard when around you in general

→ but if you wear his shirt and your thigh-highs?

→ BUCKLE UP AND GET READY

→ talks and jokes about sex a lot and pretend-fucks you when you’re bent down but he’s SO SCARED OF DOING IT

→ neither of you mind it

→ you can wait until you’re 30 for all you care

end of suggestive headcanons;)

→ you both love to talk about your future together

→ like moving in together right after high school

→ he’s already renting the apartment of your dreams, just to have it ready

→ just know you’re set for life with this man

→ he won’t ever let you go, even after the worst fights

→ idek if I could bring myself to fight with this man BUT-

→ if you did fight it would end in tears from both sides and instant regret

→ you drown each other in apologies and hugs and kisses and promises for a life together

→ your birthday gift for your 18th birthday is a promise ring HEHEHEHE

→ ‘babe’ ‘I told you I’ll marry you one day, this just makes my promise official’ ‘it’s beautiful’ ‘that means it’s perfect for you’

excuse me while I go DIE in a corner in hopes of reincarnating as his partner

~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~

[rocorambles]

Curiosity Killed the Cat

Pairing: Kuroo x Bokuto x Daichi x Reader

Genre/Warnings: NSFW, Threesome, Foursome, Degradation, Humiliation, Sex Toys, Bondage, Pet Play, Double Penetration, Triple Penetration, Dirty Talk, Gangbang, Orgy

Dating Kuroo is an adventure to say the least and you’re finally understanding what the saying ‘curiosity killed the cat’ truly means. You had always prided yourself on being open minded, always willing to try things at least once. But your boyfriend is really testing your limits, widening your horizons as he introduces you to toys you didn’t even know existed, coaxes you into positions and scenes you never thought you would enjoy as much as you do, drowns you in depths of pleasure you didn’t think was possible. Yet for all his roguish sly charm and wily ways, he’s careful to never overstep your boundaries, hazel eyes always carefully observing you, stopping and cradling you in strong arms even before you yourself have realized that you’re way over your head. 

Maybe it’s silly and naive of you, but you trust him with your life. Maybe that’s why despite how surreal and overwhelming the word ‘threesome’ sounds, despite the way your head spins at the thought of being sandwiched between two bodies when Kuroo alone is enough to make you feel like you’re losing your mind, you hesitantly nod your head when he gently asks you about it. 

You’re glad it’s Bokuto that Kuroo invites into your bedroom and you can’t help but feel like you’re being embraced by the sun itself as strong arms pin you down, a broad smile that warms your heart peering down at you, an energetic voice making you giggle as it hoots about how beautiful you are. And when both men finally bottom out inside of you, Bokuto capturing your lips in a passionate kiss as his cock stretches your dripping pussy, Kuroo nuzzling and sucking your neck in a way that has you gasping and distracted from the twinge of discomfort from your puckered hole, you can’t help but feel that there’s something ironically sweet and comforting about the new position you’re in, nothing crass or dirty about it despite all the negative connotations of having more than two bodies in a bed.  

You can’t help but shake your head in amusement in between wanton moans as the two men you’re sandwiched between begin to playfully banter above your head as they continuously thrust into both your holes, squealing when they decide to use you to compete against each other, two sets of hands gripping your waist and hips tighter as they increase their pace, drool trickling from the side of your open mouth as your eyes roll back in your head, nails digging and clawing at the muscular shoulders and back of the professional athlete in front of you, head leaning back and resting against the toned chest of your boyfriend. 

It feels good, maybe too good being stretched fuller than you’ve ever been before, being manhandled like a rag doll, unable to do much except lay there as your two partners move you up and down as they see fit. But there’s something comforting and grounding about the two warm bodies surrounding you and you stare transfixed, pussy tightening and more arousal making a mess between your legs as Bokuto and Kuroo hungrily lock lips, owl and cat fighting for dominance as they spill their seed inside of you, filling you to the brim, smirking at the way you can’t stop gazing at both of them in awe, teasing you about the way you’re clamping down on their cocks from their little show like a perverted little voyeur. 

If you thought Kuroo and you were adventurous before, this is an entirely new realm of exploration and you deliriously wonder if you can ever go back, if you even want to go back to the way things were before as you’re brought to mind breaking pleasure over and over again, sometimes from two pairs of mouths, two cocks, two pairs of hands, a mix and match of any of the previous things, sometimes from toys when you’ve been especially naughty or when the men are feeling particularly sadistic as they tie you up and force you to watch as the two of them go at it, cruelly laughing at how pathetic you look, whining and begging to be included as your usually dominant boyfriend is moaning like a whore while Bokuto shoves him face down in the sheets and fucks him thoroughly, cumming from the sight of Kuroo teasingly slapping Bokuto’s ass as the owl-haired man whimpers and moans as he rides your boyfriend’s cock. 

But when you meet Daichi, you wonder if there’s something seriously wrong with you. 

You have an amazing, loving, and devoted boyfriend. You have a wonderful friend? Lover? Whatever Boktuo is to Kuroo and you these days. And yet you can’t help the stirring of desire that coils within you when you meet the officer your boyfriend has spoken so fondly of for the first time, unable to look away from the warm brown eyes and the charming smile, eyes constantly flickering down and gaping at thick thighs, only being dragged to reality by Kuroo calling your name, guilt eating away at you every time hazel eyes affectionately look at you. 

Were you that selfish? That desperate? One man...two men weren’t enough for you? 

This shouldn’t be your reaction to meeting Sawamura Daichi, your boyfriend’s ex-lover and friend with benefits. You should be friendly, but apathetic at best, maybe even jealous and cold at worst. But you definitely shouldn’t be attracted to the man sitting beside you and engaging you in polite conversation. You definitely shouldn’t be so quick to understand exactly why Kuroo had fallen into bed with the brunette. 

Unknown to you, feline eyes regard the scene in front of him in interest and a hint of satisfaction and surprise. Kuroo had been nervous about the two of you meeting, feeling unsure about even keeping up his friendship with the ex-Karasuno captain when he started dating you, never wanting you to ever have a reason to feel insecure or doubt his loyalty to you. But you had been so quick to reassure him, so understanding, so trusting when he had told you everything about his past relationship with Daichi, about how the two of them are still close friends. And he remembers to this day how you laughed in his face, pinching his lips together to silence him before flicking him on the forehead and telling him he could be friends with whoever he wants. 

“I trust you, Tetsurou. Plus, if you did cheat on me, it’s not me you’d have to worry about. Good luck dealing with an angry Bokuto.” 

He knows you had been genuine, but he had still expected some level of discomfort when you met Daichi. After all, he imagines meeting your significant other’s ex-lover is an uncomfortable situation to be in for even someone with the kindest of hearts. But he certainly hadn’t expected that familiar spark in your eyes when you shook Daichi’s hand and he definitely hadn’t expected to see that interest returned in brown eyes that trailed and lingered on your face, your body throughout the night.       

Kuroo doesn’t believe in soulmates, but he thinks that you might just be the closest thing to it. 

Daichi stiffens when a familiar lean figure corners him in a secluded hallway, a scowl already forming on his face as he prepares to combat Kuroo’s typical snarky comments. But he’s speechless, unable to form words from a suddenly dry throat. 

“She’s pretty isn’t she? I noticed how you couldn’t stop staring at her all night.”

An apology is already on the tip of the officer’s tongue, shame swirling deep in Daichi’s guts at being caught, for not being able to better control his wandering gaze. But he sputters at Kuroo’s next words. 

“She’s even prettier in bed. Bokuto can attest to that. Come join us and see for yourself.” 

Daichi’s always thought of himself as an upright citizen, a morally sound human being. But even when they were younger, Kuroo had always managed to make him question just how straight laced he actually is. And he’s quickly realizing that even now, even almost an entire decade later, Kuroo hasn’t lost any of his persuasive sway over him. 

There’s something incredibly strange about discussing having a sexual experience with your ex-lover’s new significant other, especially when it’s being done behind said significant other’s back and especially when it’s being brought up because you couldn’t stop staring at said significant other like a lecherous geezer. And Daichi is trying to shut down the idea before Kuroo can say anything else, trying to shove the taller male away to escape the stifling atmosphere. 

But Kuroo’s always managed to get his way and his claws are out, already digging too far in Daichi’s soft feathery flesh for the crow to truly fly away. 

“Your interest isn’t one-sided, Sawamura. Think about it.” 

And Daichi does think about it, brown eyes staring up at his ceiling as he lays in bed, remembering every word the two of you exchanged, recalling every detail of your face, cursing himself for how weak-willed he is as he picks up his phone from his nightstand, swiftly sending the message before he can second guess himself anymore. 

“I’m down.”  

It’s just another typical night for the three of you and you moan on all fours, Kuroo’s hand twisted in your hair, forcing you all the way down on his cock until your nose brushes against his lower abdomen, tears streaming from your eyes as Bokuto’s calloused hands tightly hold your hips as he continuously slams into you from behind, making the bell attached to your pretty pink collar chime in a lewd melody. But there’s a brief pause as the doorbell rings and you gasp for breath, drool dripping from your mouth when Kuroo releases his hold on you, peering curiously in the direction of the front entrance as the ringing continues before quickly pulling on a pair of discarded sweatpants and exiting the bedroom, checking the source of the interruption. 

The momentary distraction has you forgetting exactly what position you’re in, but you’re abruptly reminded that you’re not alone when strong hands haul you up until your back is pressed flush against a hard chest, one hand sliding towards your front, rolling one of your perky nipples between its fingers, the other hand gripping your waist and anchoring you as the cock inside of you resumes its relentless pace, gravity forcing the shaft even deeper inside of you as you have no choice but to completely bottom out with every bounce. 

The flames inside of you are beginning to grow and build into a raging inferno as you’re driven closer and closer to a release and you can’t think of anything else except the huge cock inside of you, the deep grunts of the man behind you. But you let out a panicked whimper, nails clawing at Bokuto to slow down, stop, eyes going wide in disbelief when Daichi enters the room, followed closely by your boyfriend. 

You feel so vulnerable as brown eyes gape at your tear and drool stained face, the rise and fall of your breasts, the way your lower half is lewdly connected and breached by the cock inside of it and you instinctively move your arms to cover yourself, only to whine when Bokuto’s hands firmly hold your arms to your side, admonishing you with a thrust of his hips. And Daichi thinks he might be drooling when he hears the instinctive moan you let out from the action.

It’s Kuroo who breaks the tense silence and your attention immediately snaps towards him when his comforting and familiar voice fills the room.

“I saw the way you two looked at each other that night you met.” 

There’s already a protest and denial ready to pour from your mouth, but you obediently stay silent at the sharp look hazel eyes pin you with. 

“I’m willing to let you two get to know each other better. But only if you want to, kitten.”

Your heart warms at the way his voice softens, hazel eyes peering into your soul, searching for any hesitation, fear, doubts, anything that would have him immediately ushering Daichi out. You’re still a bit apprehensive, nervous, but...You can’t deny the heat growing inside of you as brown eyes darken at the sight of you, as you’re unable to tear your eyes away from the growing bulge between those deliciously muscular thighs. And Kuroo laughs. 

“Well, I’ll consider that a yes from you. I’d ask if you’re sure about this too, Sawamura, but considering this, I’m going to take that as a yes too.”

Daichi growls when Kuroo teasingly reaches down to palm the officer’s growing erection and your thighs clench at the sight of your boyfriend being forced into submission as Daichi’s hand grab him by the back of his unruly hair, eliciting a broken whine when the cat-like man is forced to submissively bare his neck as his head is forced back.

“Keep on running that mouth of yours and it’s you I’m going to be collaring and leashing tonight.” 

You’re not opposed to the idea and you almost have half a mind to goad Daichi into following through with his threat. But suddenly brown eyes are back on you and you gulp as Daichi grabs the leash in Kuroo’s hand before stalking slowly towards you, obediently staying still and preening with pride as he gently cups your face and softly tells you how beautiful and well behaved you are, mewling in contentment when he attaches the leash to your collar. 

Bokuto whines at being ignored, but golden eyes swoop onto your boyfriend who’s tugging his sweatpants back off and reaching for a bottle of lube as he winks at your athletic lover. And before you can even register what’s happening, Daichi and Bokuto are carefully lifting you up and now it’s your turn to pout at the empty feeling inside of you as Bokuto bounds towards the messy haired man who’s panting as he works a slick covered finger into his tight puckered hole.

But you’re not left to wallow for long when a sharp tug of your collar has you gasping and staring wide eyed at the man in front of you. 

“Present for me, beautiful.”

The combination of the praise and authoritarian tone to his voice has you diving back down on the bed and you lay your upper body on the soft surface, arching your back more than usual, wiggling your hips in an enticing manner as Daichi draws near. But you yelp as a heavy hand sharply smacks your ass.

“I said to present, not be a fucking tease.” 

You whimper, slightly unsure as you instantly still, so used to Bokuto and Kuroo always letting you get away with your cheekiness. But you sink into the warm touch as Daichi soothingly traces the curve of your spine, eager to please as his fingertips explore every inch of you, reaching beneath you to playfully tweak your nipples as he litters your back and neck with soft butterfly kisses, wrapping his body over yours as he grinds his hardening cock against your dripping hole. 

Patience has never been your strong suit and despite how hard you try to stay put and let Daichi explore and map your body, you can’t help the desperate whimper and insistent swivel of your ass as you try to match his rhythm, meet every one of his controlled and shallow thrusts in a wordless plea for more. And you’re swiftly punished with a harsh pinch and twist of your sensitive nubs, squealing at the jolt of pain as teeth bite down on your neck. 

“Fine. You want it that badly? I’ll give it to you. But don’t cry when it’s too much for you.” 

You loudly wail when you’re suddenly being slammed into, nails clawing at your bedsheets as you try to find purchase, teeth biting down on the pillow below your head to ground yourself even just a tiny bit. But even that’s taken away from you and you let out a high-pitched keen as Daichi pulls on your leash, forcing your head to lift up and arch, forcing your jaw to drop open in a silent perpetual gasp as you suck in as much air as you can with leather digging into your neck. 

“Let me hear how much you like it.” 

It should be embarrassing, humiliating, falling apart so easily underneath a man who’s pretty much a stranger to you, who’s only had his hands on you for minutes, but it’s hard to feel shame when all you can register is the way he deliciously spreads you open, ruthlessly plundering you in a way that makes you feel owned, that makes your breasts bounce with every thrust, the tightness around your throat just more proof of how far you’ve let yourself fall. And Daichi smirks at the way your broken cries echo throughout the room, a wanton blabbering chant of “yes, like it so much, thank you” slipping past your lips 

“God, you’re an even bigger slut than your boyfriend and that’s saying something.” 

The reminder that it’s not just the two of you in the room has you blearily turning to look in the direction of your other two lovers and you moan at the sight of a white sticky trail leaking out of Kuroo’s ass, Bokuto’s large hand wrapped around both their cocks as he slowly strokes them back to life despite both of them having already cum, cocks already beginning to harden once more at the debauched image you make. 

Daichi snorts at how hungry gold eyes ravenously stare at both of you. 

“I see that you’re still as insatiable as ever, Bokuto. Our pretty girl does have two other holes you can use.” 

That’s all the encouragement the owl-like man needs and you let yourself be maneuvered like a doll, moaning as you slip back down on Daichi’s cock, sloppily kissing the cop who’s now laying underneath you, finding comfort in the intimate connection as Bokuto slowly works your puckered hole open, focusing on Daichi’s hand gently drawing soothing designs on your back and your sides as one finger becomes two becomes three before the head of the athlete’s cock nudges at your fluttering entrance. 

Daichi deepens your kiss, entangling his tongue with yours as he swallows your cry of discomfort as Bokuto slowly pushes, pushes, and pushes. It’s so much and you’re panting, heart racing when he finally bottoms out, mind going blank from the overwhelming fullness of being double stuffed, but you let the men lull you into a sense of security as Bokuto coos praises into your ears, softly kissing your nape and your back, as Daichi continues tasting your mouth, your lips, neither of them moving despite how tempting your tightness and heat are, letting you adjust. 

But they share an amused smile when you finally shake their gentle touches off, snapping a bratty demand to get on with it at both of them, smirking when both men hiss when you teasingly tighten around both of them. 

They’re quick to wipe that smug expression off your face and it’s their turn to smirk at you as you begin babbling incoherently, delirious pleasure making it hard for you to do anything except lay there as both your holes are ravaged. And Daichi stares in awe and pride at how destroyed you look, eyes rolling back and jaw hanging open as you slump down on top of him, only Bokuto’s strong arms keeping your hips lifted as both men continue thrusting in and out of you. 

“Oya, oya? You’re so noisy, kitten. That’s very rude to our neighbors. Let me help you quiet down.” 

Kuroo grabs the forgotten leash from the bed, hauling your head up as he wraps the material in his hand until your eye level with his cock, his other hand twisting in your hair and keeping you still as he rubs his pre-cum and length all over your face, mockingly laughing as your tongue instinctively lolls out to taste the delicious treat. 

“Look at you. You really are just a silly pet, aren’t you? Open wide. I’ll give you your treat.” 

Daichi and Bokuto groan at the sight of your drooling mouth being stretched and shoved down Kuroo’s cock, not even a hint of resistance as your boyfriend pushes you down further and further until your nose presses against his groin, barely letting you adjust before he sharply snaps his hips and laughs at how the three of you let out a chorus of moans from the way your ass and pussy tighten from having your mouth fucked. 

“We’re going to use and fuck every one of your holes, kitten. And we’re not stopping until every hole is stuffed full of cum and we’re all satisfied. Understand?”

You don’t even get to garble a muffled answer around the cock inside your mouth before all three men are raring back to action and you really do feel like nothing but holes for cocks as all your holes are plundered, nothing controlled or in sync about any of their rhythms as they use you as a means to chase their own highs. But there’s something intoxicating about relinquishing all control, being used however they deem fit, focusing on the heady sensations of being completely full, and you can feel a familiar coil twisting and turning inside of you, can feel a telltale trembling in your thighs as the feeling grows and grows. 

None of this goes unnoticed by hazel eyes staring down at you and Kuroo smiles as he reaches down to tweak one of your nipples, patronizingly petting your head as you convulse and shatter to pieces before resuming the snapping of his hips. Your twitching walls are all Daichi needs to join you in post-coital bliss and he snaps up one last time, emptying his balls inside of you before lazily sinking back down onto the rumpled sheets, holding your overstimulated writhing body in place as Bokuto and Kuroo continue their joint assault. 

But it’s game over when the brunette slips a hand between your sweaty bodies, rubbing and playing with your clit in a way that has you seeing stars and wantonly shaking your hips and moaning as pleasure once again mixes in with the overwhelming sensations and Bokuto’s hands dig into your skin as he bottoms out inside of you, biting down on your shoulder as he fills you with thick white spurts, adding to the mess between your legs when he pulls out. 

And now it’s just Kuroo and you and hazel eyes adoringly watch as you practically hump Daichi’s hand as his fingers coax another orgasm from you, throwing his own head back in pleasure as your moans vibrate against his cock when Bokuto’s hands find their way back to your breasts, rolling the perky sensitive buds between calloused fingertips once again. But he grits his teeth and waits as his rhythm becomes uneven, as his thrusts become more shallow, hazel eyes watching and waiting, watching and waiting, watching and- 

He immediately pulls out of your mouth with a lewd pop as you’re forced to another peak, mouth opening wide in a silent scream, body twitching and spasming violently. And that’s all he needs to join you over the edge, moaning as he paints your face white, basking in the glow of his release as he takes in your glorious ruined state, something oddly warm and endearing swirling inside of him at the way Daichi and Bokuto are quick to cradle your exhausted body in their arms and lather you with praise and affection as he goes to draw a bath for you.  

It’s crowded in your bed that night, the queen sized bed not meant to hold four full grown adults, and yet, as the four of you drift off into a peaceful exhausted slumber, bodies squished against each other, limbs sprawled all over the place, the natural joint body heat borderline suffocating, you can’t help but think that it somehow feels just right.                  

[theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin]

"Tom Riddle effectively destroys the country from the inside out, which I believe was his true goal the entire time" (c) wait a second, so you think that he wasn't going to really take over or anything, just destroy the fuck out of w britain?

I have avoided this ask long enough.

I’ll start by saying that asking me about Tom Riddle is like staring down into a bottomless rabbit hole. We could travel down that path, but it is a dark and perilous journey, and by the end of it I will come out looking like the Mad Hatter.

It also requires a few prerequisites that you’re just going to accept as true (or else got off the crazy train here).

We know very little about Tom Riddle or Voldemort

What we do know of Tom Riddle comes to us from suspect sources

I’m just going to go out there and start with the basis that Tom is not crazy

Elaborating a little on number 1. We never actually see much of Tom Riddle or Voldemort directly. He’s a bit like Thanos in the MCU, or Palpatine in the first two movies of the Original Trilogy, he’s this looming threat that we pass by and glimpse every once in a while but never really get quality time with.

Generally, Voldemort makes an appearance in a moment of crisis.

He and Harry fight over the philosopher’s stone for Tom’s very survival. He and Harry fight over the diary for Tom’s very survival. He resurrects himself with Harry as a witness. We get those very strange dreams from Voldemort’s perspective (half of which we later learn are fabricated).

None of these really lend to our, or Harry’s for that matter, understanding of Tom Riddle. There’s too much going on, it usually happens far too fast, and there’s usually something Tom Riddle desperately wants or needs that eclipses all other concerns or else he has an audience.

This is part of the reason we get those Halfblood Prince pensieve lessons: Harry knows nothing of Tom Riddle and doesn’t understand him at all.

Which leads us, of course, to number 2, most of what we know about Tom Riddle comes from Dumbledore. I’ve talked about this before, so I won’t spend much time on it, but Dumbledore has a very clear agenda in relaying these memories to Harry. Dumbledore already has strong suspicions of what objects are horcruxes and where they’re located, he already has Snape as a very reliable agent to continue work when he’s gone, his job here is to convince Harry there is no path but suicide. And that involves portraying Tom Riddle as the most evil man who ever eviled, was born eviler than the antichrist, and will die eviler than the antichrist. 

Now, does this make Tom necessarily good or bad? No.

However, it does mean when Dumbledore tells us things like, “See, Harry, an impoverished child was upset when I lit all his belongings on fire! What a monster!” (especially given that, in a similar situation, Harry thought it was hilarious when Hagrid gave Dudley a permanent physical deformity and Harry was told he was an angel child) we should take it with a very large grain of salt.

Right, so, with all that backdrop what I’m getting at is that a) we can’t take Dumbledore at his word b) even if we could he could be wrong c) Harry doesn’t have the introspection to be able to figure himself when a or b is happening. I won’t elaborate on this last much, suffice to say that Harry’s world is very black and white, divided into the camps of those who personally like him and those who don’t.

So, why do I think Tom’s goal was not to rule the wizarding world but instead to destroy it?

A few things.

First, there are so many easier ways he could have ended up ruling the wizarding world. More, even when he effectively does rule the wizarding world in book seven, he takes very strange actions so that he’s never directly in power.

Second, I never really bought Tom’s racism. It’s too convenient and too contradictory with his backstory.

The second first, because we’re going out of order today. I’ve gone over this before, but I don’t believe Tom had minions early and I think he was effectively treated as a muggleborn (see here and here) until he took on the Voldemort persona many decades later. I’m hard pressed to believe someone as intelligent, angry, and proud as Tom Riddle would willingly believe and accept he was inferior to the likes of Abraxas Malfoy. More, even if he wished he was a halfblood, I think the evidence of him being muggleborn would be stacked too high against him to deny even to himself (and when he finds out it’s not true, he has maybe a month or so before he realized that he’s the bastard son of a squib). 

And it’s just so convenient. All the people with the power, with the money, who are itching for a cause against a threat that doesn’t really exist believe in blood purity. Ergo, Voldemort shows up suddenly espousing over the top blood purity rhetoric (rhetoric that directly clashes with his “there is only power” philosophy at that). 

In other words, I think Tom Riddle gave himself a line that he knew would get him places very quickly.

And now for the first. For a guy who has had the entire country in the palm of his hands twice, one time taking it over in a bloodless coup, he’s really big on causing collateral damage and really small on actually doing the ruling thing.

The first wizarding war, Tom Riddle as Voldemort has the backing of the heirs of the most prestigious and wealthy noble houses save a select few. These are people with seats in the Wizengamot, which has a frightening control over the government itself (including the minister of magic). I imagine, in 1980 had Tom Riddle wanted to be elected as Minister of Magic, he would have been elected as Minister of Magic. If he wanted a friendly face in office then he probably could have made that happen to.

More than even this though, by this point, Tom had already won. By having control over the majority of the Wizengamot he owns the government. He’s done, it’s over, it’s finished, and many of the characters admit as much which is why Harry Potter was such a miracle. So why all the seemingly random, exceptionally pointless, terrorism? 

One answer is that Voldemort is crazy bananas. And sure, I guess we can go with that, except for someone insane he’s oddly effective and very consistent. 

I believe Tom was systematically destroying the very foundations of the country through its core aristocratic families. Within a few short years Tom decimates the Black family, it goes from having five heirs to none, and while some of this isn’t Tom’s fault he does take care of quite a few of them. He brands Lucius for life, while Lucius rises high in politics he never escapes the stigma of being a known Death Eater and in the end cannot escape the consequences for his actions. The Malfoy family is very nearly destroyed by the end of the series, had Draco died in the Fiendfyre. The LeStrange family, presumably decimated as well.

More, this is mostly me headcanoning, but I imagine Tom fuels an extremism that the Wizarding World had never contemplated. I imagine, previously, anti-muggleborn sentiment was probably fairly rampant among purebloods. Oh, some were very pro-muggleborn I’m sure, but I think most were fairly “eh” on the people and felt they were a drain on society (such as requiring constant funding for the obliviation department).

However, when Diagon Alley starts getting blown up every other week, when muggleborns start being tortured and murdered, when purebloods who aren’t anti-muggleborn enough are being tortured and murdered, this starts wigging people out in a way they’ve never wigged out before.

By the time we get to Harry Potter’s canon, it is now only a minority that are anti-muggleborn, and they’re perceived as raving lunatics. Nobody wants to be grouped with these people. Which, just goes to show, how much Voldemort rattles the wizarding world in a very small amount of time.

Then there’s Deathly Hallows, rather than become minister himself Voldemort installs a puppet minister. He shows no signs of wishing to change this and instead does things like destroy the sorting hat (which again shakes the very foundations of the wizarding world as whta will we do if we don’t know who’s a Gryffindor anymore?!)

So, where is this ramble going?

Given the results we see, that more than any others it seems to be the purebloods and often Tom’s own followers that suffer colossal losses, I think Tom’s actions are, in part, a means of vengeance against the entire damn wizarding world (but especially the purebloods).

He makes fools of these people, brands them as his slaves, and has them participate in the most over the top ridiculous rituals (the cloaks, the masks, the entire theatrics of it feels like Tom got drunk one night and planned this whole thing out). He destroys them entirely, and better, enables them to completely destroy themselves and the country they believe they’re trying to save.

Basically, I think by the time the series begins Tom is fueled by a nihilist rage that knows no bounds. But dammit all, the wizarding world is going to burn.

[yougotthatbilly]

take care (m)

→ member: johnny seo

→ genre: assistant!johnny | smut

→ word count: 15.9k (not surprised atp)

→ playlist: body talk x majid jordan, warm x majid jordan, BoRdErSz x zayn, moment x victoria monét

→ warnings: slowburn, indecisiveness, v  self-indulgent; unprofessional relations, big dick!johnny (ofc; don’t expect anything else), soft dom!johnny, begging (johnny’s a tease), subspace, oral; face-fucking, (and if you squint, ass eating), unprotected sex, squirting, praising, overstimulation, etc. 

↳ summary: your assistant just wants to take care of you

The heavy rain outside mocks you. You were supposed to be at your favorite bar across the street, but here you are sitting at your desk, staring out your window. And that’s how Johnny finds you after being granted entrance into your office.

Your arm is propped up on the arm of your seat, cheek in hand, lips pouted. Johnny does his best not to smile at the thought of you looking adorable as not to piss you off. He just sets your cup of tea down on the coaster on the corner of your desk. 

“How was the meeting?” he asks, taking a seat on the other side of your desk. 

You slowly spin to face him, looking at him with annoyed eyes as you take a sip of your tea. It’s the perfect temperature—a temperature Johnny took almost a month to perfect— and sweetness, and it instantly makes you feel a little better.

“Don’t worry,” you sigh. “Jiyoung didn’t get fired.” You have a three-strike policy; this incident is the second strike.

“Jaehyun,” Johnny corrects, grinning.

You tilt your head at his correction. “I care?”

Johnny just shakes his head, knowing you’re being petty because Jaehyun got his dates wrong and uploaded a post on a few new products a week earlier than the scheduled date, resulting in having to speed things up a little. It didn’t cause a major problem because you’re typically prepared for the worst case scenario, but you don’t like feeling rushed and when things don’t go as planned, so you were pissed. 

“What’s his punishment?”

“That’s between me and him,” you tell Johnny before taking another sip. Your lip curls in disgust at the suggestive look your assistant gives you. “Okay, let’s not be gross. He’s a child.”

“I didn’t know 23 was considered a child,” Johnny teases, mostly because the man of the hour has had a crush on you for the last year he’s been working for you and he’s been trying to get Johnny to talk him up to you. 

“I didn’t know you wanted to get fired in his place,” you say with a tight smile. Johnny decides to switch the subject.

“Mind me asking why you looked so sad when I walked in?”

You sigh once more, slouching in your seat.

“I wanted to go to the bar…” You point to the window beside you. Johnny follows your finger and watches the storm that hasn’t let up since it started half an hour ago. “That’s not happening anytime soon.”

You’ve either been in your office working nonstop or sleeping for the last week or so and you can feel a burnout creeping up. You were going to walk to the bar to get the fresh air you needed, enjoy a drink and your favorite wings because you deserve it—especially after the headache Jaehyun caused the moment you stepped foot into your office this morning—and indulge yourself. Now look at you, hardly munching on the fruit slices Johnny gave you this morning and almost finished with your tea.

“I’m sorry things aren’t going the way you planned today.” Johnny pouts. “On the bright side, you don’t have anything else on your schedule so if you wanted to go home within the next hour, you wouldn’t fall behind.”

“I’ll probably just take a nap on the futon once I’m done looking over the new plan again.” You shrug. 

Johnny wants to roll his eyes, but he catches himself. He’s sure you’ve already gone over it at least five times. There’s nothing he can do about it, though, so lifts himself out of his seat. “I’ll leave you to it. Just give me a call if something comes up or you change your mind.”

To both of your surprise, you actually head out and get yourself a candle you’d ran out of a week ago on the way home to treat yourself to a much needed bath filled with bubbles and essential oils. The scent of the candle reminds you of your assistant because it’s the scent he got you for your birthday, and it’s become your favorite. 

You send a picture of the candle at the end of your tub to Johnny, thanking him again for putting you onto greatness, as he worded it before when you first smelled it in front of him and your eyes practically rolled back. 

[18:14] John Suh: Are you actually relaxing???

You suck your teeth at his response, but you can’t blame him. He’s the only one that knows just how much you put in to get to the position you’re in, while you’re positive a lot of others just think it was handed to you by your mother instead of the school and endless hours work you went through and continue to go through. It’s very rare you give yourself the time to truly sit back and relax aside from when you’re on vacation. And even then, work never really stops. It just gets placed on the back burner for a little.

[18:16] you: Hush.

[18:17] John Suh: I’m just glad you’re taking care of yourself. Your dark circles have been snitching on you.

[18:17] you: Wow. You really wanna get fired today, huh?

[18:18] John Suh: Dark circles or not, you know you’re still beautiful. Now stop texting me and enjoy your bath!

When you find yourself smiling at your phone, you know you should do exactly what he says. Johnny’s always been a complimenter, though his usual kindness goes along the lines of telling you that you look nice. You’re no stranger to this specific compliment, you get it all the time on Instagram from your business partners and supporters. So why does this time settle differently within you?

[18:21] you: Nice save. 

You need a video of one of your popular social media influencer ambassadors using and reviewing your newest skincare products tomorrow—due to Jaehyun’s mix-up—but that’s not happening. She didn’t record it before going on vacation and didn’t think to bring the products with her on her trip. While it isn’t her fault times have moved around, you’re annoyed she didn’t bring the products with her when she’s supposed to be using them every day because she’s one of your main advocates for your products being oily skin-friendly. You have the videos of the other models with their specific skin types, and this is your missing piece. 

The weather is nice today, so you take a much-needed break from electronics and go to the roof of the building. Your peace is quickly interrupted by the body of a six-foot male in front of you, standing in the way of the sunlight you were basking in.

“I know you hate him right now,” Johnny begins, skipping over greetings to get to the point of his disruption. “But Jaehyun has oily skin, he’s been using the products you gave him for like three weeks, he really likes them, and he has a good following on Instagram.”

You take the phone handed to you begrudgingly and look at Jaehyun’s page. Thirteen thousand followers and quality pictures. You’re not blind, Jaehyun is conventionally attractive and looks like a model in the photos and boomerangs. Something is missing, though. “Eh.”

“‘Eh?’” Johnny parrots, confused. He doesn’t know a better last-minute model for you than Jaehyun.

“Something’s missing,” you explain with a shrug. You absentmindedly tap the profile icon at the bottom of the screen and Johnny’s Instagram profile pops up. The two of you follow each other, so it’s not like you’ve never seen his pictures, but it’s been a while since you actually paid attention to detail. He has eighteen thousand followers and apparently uploads his pictures following a color theme. There are pictures of himself, random people, and nature in a strategic flow. When you select a video to watch, you’re sold on the lighting, exposure, and the way he captured the woman’s features. “Sit.”

Johnny does so without any questions. You gently grab his jaw and study his face closely. His skin is supple and dewy, the sun highlighting his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. Not that his skin was bad before he started using your products, but the texture and scarring have minimized quite a bit. Johnny doesn’t have the typical, bland model face your competitors love so much, especially with the slight stubble he’s got above his top lip and on his chin. 

“What’s your skin type, John?” 

“Oily,” he sighs, knowing what’s coming next. He was doing his job as your assistant, trying to make your life easier, but now he wishes he would’ve left this task to the social media department and stayed out of it. 

You thought so. “Will you do this for me instead?”

“Do I look like an influencer to you?” 

“Yes. I’ll double your next check and everything,” you promise him. “You actually have a personality and everything you post is quality. Women will love the eye candy and all types of men will take you seriously because you don’t have that annoying pristine, perfect look to you like Jaeyoung does.”

Johnny is here to fulfill your needs, so he knows you asking is really just you being polite. He doesn’t have much of a choice, especially with the lack of time you have. He is enjoying the warmth of your hand and the fact you referred to him as ‘eye candy,’ too. And who is he to say no to extra money?

“I’ll have it recorded and edited by midnight,” Johnny smiles, giving you the hope you need. 

“Ugh, you’re the best,” you sigh in relief, shaking his face side to side affectionately before letting him go to stand up. You feel much better now. “Send it directly to me.” 

Johnny stands up with you and leads the way, opening the door for you. “Yes, ma’am.”

Always true to his word, Johnny emails you two links at a quarter-till, with a message attached: 

Good evening, 

I edited two videos for you, one short enough for a regular post on the company’s page and the other that could be used for my IGTV for my followers. I hope these meet your expectations, but if there’s anything you need me to fix or redo, let me know and I’ll get right to it. 

Sincerely, 

John Suh

You get comfortable in your bed with your iPad and tap the first link. You make sure the brightness and volume are high enough to get the full effect, then press play. The quality of the film makes you assume he used a professional camera instead of his phone, and he gets a point for that. 

“Hey,” Johnny starts with an awkwardly endearing smile. “I know this is a little different than what I usually post, but I got scouted by the skincare goddess herself to be an ambassador for Surreal’s new line of skincare, Ethereal.”

You grin at the nickname and note that with him being in the bathroom, there’s no echo in his audio, and that gives him another point.

“I’ve been using the four of the five products I’m about to introduce to you everyday for around a month and before I do my skincare routine for you, I’ll show you what my skin looked like before I started using these products with dates so you don’t think I’m just trying to sell you on them just because she’s been writing my checks for the last year,” Johnny chuckles, then the screen shows a selfie Johnny took with the date of a month ago from today, some hyperpigmentation and small bumps dotting his cheek and jaw. 

Another point for including before and afters. You knew he’d meet your expectations without you having to say much.  

“I’ll get up close and personal at the end so you can really see the results,” Johnny winks into the camera, causing you to blink. 

You knew he’d have personality and that was one of the main reasons he was a great idea, and while in hindsight his actions are predictable, you shake your head. The fact that he’s actually charming makes you scoff, but you’re sure that the damn wink only worked on you right now because it’s almost midnight and you should be asleep right now. You won’t act like he hasn’t always been nice on the eyes, but he’s Johnny. 

You can’t deny that you do thoroughly enjoy the Johnny presented to you through the screen, though. 

“The first product is an oil-based cleanser because the SPF in this collection is oil-based as well,” Johnny explains, then proceeds to show the jar and small spatula that comes with it before he scooped some out, capturing the texture of the product well. 

And that’s how the rest of the video plays out, the unusually deep, gentle tone of Johnny’s voice explaining how well each product works for his oily and acne-prone skin, lulling you into a relaxed state against your headboard. He keeps things short and simple, the video just barely passing three minutes and as promised, his face comes a lot closer to the screen, showing the faded scarring and smooth texture of what used to be his problem areas. Johnny ends the video with a sweet smile and says goodbye. The shorter video is edited to where he’s hardly talking, mostly just demoing your products, just the way you like things to be on the company’s page.

You did great, John. Thanks again for doing this last minute. You can come in at 10 am tomorrow since I had you working overtime today. Rest well. 

Johnny is at your desk with your morning cup of tea at eight in the morning, a bright smile on his face as he tells you good morning. 

You glare at him. “Why are you here?”

“Because it’s my job?” Johnny says, pretending like he doesn’t know what you’re referring to. You can read him well, though. You take the mug out of his hand before gesturing for him to take a seat in front of you. 

“You’re either being hard-headed as usual, or you’re anxious about your video being uploaded. Which is it?” 

And that wipes the bright smile off of his face. 

“I slept three hours last night,” he confesses. “I’m not used to this kind of exposure.”

You take a couple of sips of your tea and quietly observe him, thinking. 

“Would you prefer we didn’t post it, then?”

Your assistant looks at you as if you didn’t just speak one of the languages he’s fluent in. You just blink at him and continue drinking your beverage, waiting for him to either say yes or no in case you need to make other plans, again.

“You’d do that for me?” he finally says after a while of staring at you like you’re crazy. 

“Why wouldn’t I?” you ask slowly. “You’ve proven how far you’d go for me and I appreciate it, but I care about you as a person and anxiety is a bitch, so I wouldn’t want you to be panicking over Jaejoon’s mistake.”

The corner of Johnny’s lift curls at your continued pettiness, and maybe his heart does a thing at the fact that you care that much about him. It’s obvious to everyone that he is the closest to you out of all of your employees; being your assistant means you let your guard down a little with him. Along with the more serious side of your personality everyone else gets (especially recently), he sees your soft side. You’re not an overly strict boss, but Johnny gets to see you smile more and pout (he’d lose his job if he admitted to you how endearing your pout is to him). But even with the closer relationship the two of you have, Johnny would’ve never expected you to choose his stage fright over your baby; your company.

“I couldn’t ask you to do that,” Johnny declines with a shake of his head. “I’ll be okay, I promise. Thank you for considering my feelings, though.”

You shrug, not about to press him on the issue. “Alright. I need you to post the IGTV at 2 pm and tag our page in an appropriate caption. I’d suggest you turn your notifications off for a while because as soon as you post it, it’s getting posted to our story then I’m sure you’re gonna get flooded with DM’s.”

“Flooded?’” Johnny asks, head tilted. “I mean, all I’ll have to do is copy and paste the same message answering any questions they might have about the products. Easy.”

You’re the one to look at him like he’s stupid this time. You set your mug down, lean back in your swivel chair, and clasp your hands over your stomach. “You can’t be that dense.”

“‘Dense?’” he asks.

“Are you a parrot?” you tsk. “But yes, dense. You know good and well most of the messages will have nothing to do with my products and everything to do with you.”

Johnny has the audacity to still be confused after your explanation. 

“John, you realize you’re a good-looking guy with a likable personality, right?” 

It’s not that he doesn’t know that. Johnny’s always been a pretty confident guy, with both his looks and personality. His confusion doesn’t stem from being blind or too humble. It’s the fact you of all people are telling him this right now. 

“You think so?” he prompts, just to see how many compliments he can get out of you. This is a rare occasion.

“When you’re not being annoyingly happy-go-lucky and chill out, yes.” You reply. And now he’s pouting. That’s what he gets.

“I thought my cheerfulness brought joy to your days,” Johnny says with a dramatic hand on his heart, offended.

“What brings me joy is everything running smoothly and everyone doing their job,” you correct. He isn’t wrong, but you decide not to stroke his ego any more than you already have. And you’ve already said too much. “With that being said, you do everything I ask of you, and that brings me so much joy. You’re the perfect assistant, so don’t cry.”

“Is this your way of telling me to calm down?”

Your iPad buzzes against the wood of your desk and when you peek at it, you see it’s an email from Jaehyun with the subject: Today’s upload schedule.

“This is my way of telling you to get to work, honey.”

Johnny often finds himself slowly backing out of your office with his hands up in surrender, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. He loves the distinct differences between the two of you. He figures it’s why you work so well together and why he’s held this job position for over a year in comparison to the two assistants before him that both got fired before the six-month mark. Johnny’s also positive that you love his excessively positive nature (as Jaehyun has described Johnny’s personality before) somewhere deep down and that he brightens your day after dealing with idiots like Jaehyun. 

When your assistant is out of sight, you grab your iPad, respond to Jaehyun’s email, and find yourself rewatching today’s scheduled video. Maybe more than once. 

The video is up at 2 pm sharp and Johnny does as advised, turning his Instagram notifications off immediately. He even goes as far as taking his phone off of vibrate so he isn’t aware of any other notifications until he decides to look at his phone again. He’s got things to organize anyway, so the work he has to do takes his mind off of any anxiety within him. 

That is until you appear at the doorway of his office an hour later. This is a rare occurrence, so Johnny can’t be blamed for staring at you, and in the process, he appreciates the very fitted pantsuit you’re wearing. You took off the blazer sometime in between when Johnny left your office hours ago and now, and he thinks that the blush pink blouse compliments your complexion and red lips very well. But of course it does. Everything you wear compliments everything about you perfectly. 

Just one of the many observations Johnny has made in the past year.

“How do you feel?” you ask him. Your voice is always so calm and collected, even when you’re ripping someone to shreds because of idiocy. Johnny admittedly admires that about you.

“I’ve done everything under the sun to avoid my phone,” Johnny confesses with a weak laugh.

You nod. “Well, just know that I’ve had multiple companies and modeling agencies ask why I’ve been hiding you. So don’t be surprised if you have job opportunities waiting for you.” 

“Wow… this means I can finally quit,” Johnny hardly whispers with a victorious fist pump.

“I wish the hell you would,” you deadpan, breaking Johnny’s act and causing him to laugh loudly at the lack of expression paired with your response. “You’re mine unless there’s a tragic accident, God forbid, or you’re moving up in the ranks.”

“Promise?” 

“Promise,” you confirm, sending him a wink before turning on your heel and strutting back to your own office. Johnny licks his lips at the sight of the natural sway of your hips before shaking his head and getting back to working on the excel sheet staring at him.

“How is it that you all have the skills and training for the very simple tasks I ask you to complete, yet lack common sense and proper work ethic?” 

Everyone in the room, excluding Johnny, just looks up at you from their seats, pitiful expressions on their faces. Their eyes follow you as you slowly walk to the other side of the room. You’re trying to stay calm and be professional, so pacing around the room is your best bet. 

To Johnny, you look like you’re on a runway in slow motion, modeling the slim-fitting pencil skirt and red bottoms you’re adorning. Though still attentive to every word coming out of your mouth, Johnny lets himself get lost in each step you take because he’s not the one getting chewed out. 

Mark, one of the newest additions to the marketing department, leans into Johnny’s side to whisper into his ear. “How have you managed to not fuck up and be on the receiving end of her talks yet?”

You don’t hear anything, but you see whispering happening, and now is not the time for side conversations. Johnny doesn’t even have the chance to turn to Mark or tell him to shut up until the end of the meeting before you’re speaking again.

“Mark Lee,” you call as you make your way towards him, causing him to sit up straight. “Is there something you’d like to say?”

“No, ma’am,” he responds nervously. Johnny internally shakes his head at Mark not being able to think quickly and lie. “My apologies.”

“Is there anything anyone wants to say or am I just a narcissist who loves talking to hear my lovely voice? Should I sing?” you ask, standing next to Johnny at the end of the conference table, hand on your hip. “Y’all want a performance?”

Johnny bites the inside of his cheek to refrain from laughing. Your sarcasm only intensifies the unsettled looks on everyone’s face and they all side-eye Jungwoo, their savior from the last time they got chewed out as a whole. Jungwoo raises his hand before saying, “There’s nothing we can say to excuse our actions—or lack thereof, but we will get right on it and do our jobs correctly this time. You won’t have to repeat yourself again.”

Johnny is impressed at how quickly your features soften. The ready-to-fire-someone look melts away as you nod at Jungwoo’s promise. You do have a bit of a soft spot for the latter, though, so it makes sense. 

“I’ll take your word for it. You’re dismissed,” you announce, waving everyone off. 

The room is empty, save for you and your assistant, in mere seconds. 

“You’re going to give them nightmares,” Johnny chuckles, gathering your belongings before opening the door for you to exit the conference room. He laughs once more at your responding yawn.

“How? That was me on my best behavior,” you retort, your heels clicking loudly as you walk to the elevator. “And what was Lee whispering about?”

“Your employees are just amazed that I’ve kept you satisfied for so long.”

You walk into the elevator once the doors slide open and lean against the mirrored wall, arms crossed. Your eyes are squinted as you give Johnny a once over. He has done everything right since he completed his training. “You think you can keep me satisfied?” 

There’s a challenging tone in your voice that causes Johnny to lick his lips. “I’d never disappoint you.”

Your response is a nod of your head paired with a drawn-out hum, and then you walk out of the elevator to your office once you hit your floor, walking ahead of Johnny without another word. You laugh at yourself when you replay the short conversation in your mind at the feeling you got in your gut at his response. And then you’re scoffing because, once again, it’s Johnny.

Johnny… Over six feet, amicable, charming, handsome as all hell Johnny. The scene of him licking his lips and saying those four words in that promising, deep voice in the elevator flashes through your mind once you’re seated at your desk. Your fingernail taps against the wood as you roll your lips together, stuck in your head. The ironic conclusion you come to before getting back to work is that you’re working way too much and just lacking male attention because there’s no other plausible reason for your goofy-ass assistant to have been on your mind so much for the last couple of days. 

“Really?” Johnny asks when he walks in and sees you slumped over your desk.

Your eyes flutter open at his voice.

“I was just resting my eyes” you yawn, waving him off. 

“What work is there possibly left for you to do at this point?” The products go on the market tomorrow, meaning all the work that had to be done in preparation for the launch was completed before everyone left today (the marketing department got their shit together quickly because they know about your policy and how unforgiving you are when the deadline is right around the corner). The only thing left for your marketing team to do tomorrow is look over everything once more and then you’re free to sit back and wait for customers to buy the new products and idly watch over social media if you really wanted to. It frustrates Johnny that you always find something extra to do. 

“I was doing some last minute, um”— another yawn —“touches on the-”

“Well, that’s enough,” Johnny interrupts your explanation, walking around to your side of the desk and plucking the pen out of your hand.

 You just nod and lean back in your ridiculously big swivel chair, blinking up at him slowly, because he’s right. There’s literally nothing else for you to do and you have the most full coverage concealer under your eyes; you need to rest. 

“Am I driving you home tonight?” He asks as he packs your belongings into the massive purse on the box by your feet then places it on your desk so he doesn’t have to bend back down to retrieve it.

“Yeah, I don’t feel like moving,” you mumble, thankful you spent so much money on the chair you’re oh-so comfortable in. 

Johnny puts his hands out for you to grab, and once you do so, he pulls you up. You groan and lean forward into him to catch your balance after not being on your feet for many hours, but then Johnny’s hand on firm on the middle of your lower back, and the pressure makes you stay. He’s just helping you steady yourself, a position you’ve been in once or twice before because you like to push your limits (says both your therapist and your assistant), but he smells good and he’s warm; his presence is comforting. It always has been, which is why he’s made the perfect assistant for you. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, looking down at the top of your head that simply nods in response.

“Think I pushed my limit,” you admit, much to your assistant’s surprise. It’s not that you’re prideful, but you don’t exactly like showing weakness, especially in front of your employees.

Though tempted to just let you rest your head on his chest because he doesn’t mind the proximity at all and knows you’re somehow comfortable, Johnny makes sure you’re standing steadily by yourself so he can drape your coat over your shoulders. He grabs your purse and wraps an arm around your waist then guides you out of your office, all the way to the parking garage, saying goodbye to the confused cleaning staff on his way out. 

He presses the button on the handle of the passenger side’s door to unlock it, opens the door, then fits you inside of his car. Johnny leans over your body to buckle your seat belt, and when he’s back away, he catches you looking at him with a look he can’t quite decipher. 

“What’s up?”

You shake your head and blink slowly. “I just really appreciate you, John.”

Johnny just nods to save face and closes the door before making his way to the driver’s seat. He’s not quite sure how to feel or respond to the soft-spoken, sleepy side of you since it’s been months since the one other time you’ve been in a similar situation, and he wasn’t as smitten as he is now. 

You’re fighting your sleep because even though you trust Johnny, you want to be as aware during this trip to your house. It’s a hard feat, though. His car is big and comfortable and the hum of the engine is trying to lull you into a deep sleep. 

Johnny looks over at you after getting on the main road and notices your internal fight. 

“You can fall asleep, you know.”

“You might take my organs.” 

“I would’ve done that a long time ago if I wanted to,” Johnny humors you. His response brings a small smile to your face, and that keeps a smile on his own. 

“You have a really pretty smile, John.”

“Thank you,” Johnny says, figuring it’s just your exhaustion talking. 

“I’m almost jealous of how pretty your lips are,” you sigh, mouth not filtering your thoughts at this point of exhaustion (you’ve gotten 10 hours of sleep in the last week, but no one, especially not Johnny, needs to know that). You don’t care enough to try to “correct” yourself because the pretty curl of his lips gets even deeper.

“Really?” Johnny asks, trying his luck again because he’s sure tonight isn’t like the other day in your office. “You think my lips are pretty?”

You hum and cuddle into his seat even more. After staring at his profile a while longer, you tell him, “I think you’re pretty.”

That makes him laugh again, taken aback at the string of compliments coming out of your mouth towards him of all people. It’s not that you’re mean or don’t applaud him for his great work, but this is a very different side of you that he’s seeing. He likes it.

“That’s a first, but I’ll take it,” he says, taking a moment to look at you again before focusing on the road again. “Thank you.”

“Are you used to hearing ‘handsome?’ ‘Fine?’ ‘Sexy?’” You notice how Johnny’s brows lift. “Too far?”

He shakes his head. “No, you’re good. I like you when you’re nice.”

“You like me regardless,” you say with a sassy scoff, pretending to flip your hair even though it’s slicked back in a low bun, the same as every workday.

Johnny nods slowly, contemplating if he should humor you or just laugh you off. It literally takes him 0.5 seconds to go with the former option because he’s been waiting for the day the two of you step out of professional talk and get into something more personal, specifically between the two of you. “You got me there. I mean, what isn’t there to like?”

Your eyes squint as you analyze him and process his words. There’s a subtle but still very noticeable shift in the air after his question, and while you’re sure it’s your fault for letting your exhaustion let you feel comfortable enough to open your mouth and start spewing out nice things to your assistant, his response is enough to keep it up. It also doesn't help that this is a far more intimate setting than work. 

“Be careful, you keep saying things like that and I’ll think you have a crush on me,” you tease him, chuckling at the snort he responds with. 

Before Johnny snitches on himself, he flips the script. “Says the one staring at my lips long enough to deem them ‘pretty’ and calling me pretty, of all things.” 

“Well,” you start as your gaze goes right back to his mouth at the mention of it. “It would be unprofessional of me to tell you that I think you’re fine as hell, so,” you shrug.

You and Johnny have always had a bit of banter between the two of you, and while this topic isn’t something that’s been covered before, it’s hard to really care when you feel comfortable enough to cross that line right now. If he hadn’t been playing along, you wouldn’t have said anything more than the simple compliment from earlier, but with the reciprocity, the logical voice within gets pushed away. Exhaustion isn’t much of an excuse at this point because that high from tiredness has passed. 

The timing of the traffic light turning red is a little too perfect. Johnny takes the opportunity to look at you again, and something lights up in his chest when he catches how your eyes travel up from his mouth to look into his own eyes at his attention. 

“It would be unprofessional,” he agrees with another nod of his head. “But I can’t say the feeling isn’t mutual.”

You hum and nod. “Good to know.”

“You must not be sleeping well for you to be throwing out compliments like that.” Johnny leans onto the middle counsel.

“I’m not saying anything I haven’t thought of for a while.” You tell him after a beat, choosing to reply honestly since you’re already here. Johnny quirks a brow to prompt you to elaborate, and you do so, mirroring his position and propping your chin in your hand. His face is a lot closer now, but you keep your eyes on his own orbs to avoid losing focus. “I hired you because of your experience and skill set, but I knew it wouldn’t hurt to have some eye-candy around me. Pretty privilege and all,” you wave a nonchalant hand. “You were perfect until you opened your mouth.”

“You can never be nice to me for long, can you?” he snorts.

“You’re perfect tonight, though,” you add on, specifically for the quirk of Johnny’s mouth that comes from the praise. Yeah, you failed the challenge. 

“How so?” Johnny questions, quickly checking to see if the light has changed yet. It hasn’t, and for once in his life he’s grateful for a long light. He feels good about where this conversation could possibly get him after a year of silently admiring you, so good that he not-so-subtly gets even closer, definitely in your bubble, but nothing too crazy.

“You’re calm and collected and taking care of me,” you admit. The silent deep breath you take to calm yourself grants you access to the scent of Johnny’s cologne again, and your mind is so close to deciding that logic is unnecessary. A tiny voice in the back of your mind has been trying to get your attention and steer you in the opposite direction of the one you’ve decided to take, with how you tilt your head up to get just a little closer to him.

“You like being taken care of?”

“I love it,” you confess, and Johnny takes the chance to tuck a stray hair behind your ear as he hums, content with your response. Definitely an excuse to test the waters and see how far he can go and how willing you are to really cross this line. You turn your face into his hand so he cups your jaw, but then there’s a horn sounding behind you because the light is green, and Johnny begrudgingly has to pay attention to the road. You blink, the trance you found yourself in with him so close but so far away dissipating, the situation becoming a lot more real now that he’s out of your space. You slump back into your seat and look out of the window, that voice becoming louder and grounding you as you take another deep breath. “But allowing myself to be vulnerable with someone like that? Yikes.”

He knows your defense mechanism is trying to kick in, but he’s not having it.

“Aside from me?” 

You hum. “Not quite…” 

You set yourself up. From that moment in the elevator to now, you’ve been digging your own grave, and Johnny has done nothing but assist you, encourage you to dig deeper. You’re not sleepy anymore, there’s no more foggy brain from earlier when he found you asleep in the office. Just desire you’ve done a grand job of ignoring up until the last few days. But unfortunately, you have to remind yourself you’ve been ignoring it for a reason.

Your assistant almost doesn’t say anything because he loves his job and you clearly switched the direction of the conversation for a reason, but so much (yet so little) has already been said during your time in the car and you’ve already said enough to get the gears in his head turning. 

“So you mean a different type of care?”Johnny asks. He pulls into your driveway and parks. He wants to get back to the space the two of you were at when stopped at that light, but you’re already unbuckling your seat belt and grabbing your purse, signifying that the moment is long gone. That doesn’t stop him from trying, though. “Do you need me to walk you in?”

“I think I’ve got it now, thanks.” You need to get inside and get some sleep. Are you running right now? Of course. You’re a responsible person and the most responsible thing for you to do as the woman that signs his paychecks, is to get the fuck away from him before he persuades you, because you both know it’s possible.

“Let me rephrase that:” he licks his pretty lips and your fist balls up around your purse’s straps. “Do you want me to walk you in? I know you didn’t need me to do most of what I’ve done tonight, but you let me because you wanted me to.” His ability to read you so well is both a blessing and a curse. “Now would you like for me to continue taking care of you tonight or not?” 

You do. You absolutely do. You’re tempted to say yes in the case you don’t end up alone tonight, but you know it’s not a good idea. And you’re sure the atmosphere of this car ride will disappear by the time you wake up. At least that’s what you tell yourself because you know, ethics.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you tell Johnny, opening the door and stepping out. “Thanks for the ride. Drive safe.”

Johnny watches you walk up to your door, unlock it, then disappear into your house. He lets out a deep sigh before backing out of your driveway and driving home.

Tea, fruit slices, and avocado toast are set down in front of you the moment you walk behind your desk. 

“Good morning,” Johnny greets you calmly. “Your eleven o’clock meeting has been pushed back thirty minutes, so I’d suggest using the opportunity to get out of the building and get some fresh air. You know, get away from electronics and people to recharge.”

That’s exactly what you’ll do. You’re going to be monitoring the Instagram engagement and website sales for a while, even though you pay people to be on top of numbers, so a break will definitely be needed. 

“I love your brain, you know that?” you ask, looking up at him once your jacket and bag are off of your body, meeting his eye. The corner of Johnny’s mouth twitches. 

“I told you I’d never disappoint you.”

“And I’m holding you to that.” You ignore the fact that there’s definitely another meaning behind his words. You can’t say the tension that last night’s conversation produced has gone away completely, but it’s weak enough for you to ignore it and stick to the amicable atmosphere the two of you have built for the last year plus.

“Would it be alright if I accompanied you during your walk?” Johnny prompts after a moment of him just standing there, pursing his lips together to refrain himself from grinning at you. “There’s something I’d like to run by you because I trust your opinion as my boss and my friend.”

“We’re friends?” you joke, settling into your seat.

“Last time I checked,” he responds, unfazed. “We could be even closer if you let yourself be vulnerable with me.” 

And there it is.

“John,” you say after a brief pause. He’s got his hands in his pockets, face mostly void of emotion. Johnny doesn’t want things to go back to normal, and he’s decided to let you know in the most subtle, yet obvious way. Why ignore the feeling when it’s clearly mutual? 

“Yes, boss?”

“You can leave now.”

The grin on the male’s face falters. He examines you to see just how serious you are, and he knows this isn’t one of your playful banter moments. He tries to call your name, either to ease the situation and tell you it was just a bad joke or to apologize, but you just remove your attention from him and get on your iPad. 

And when he’s out of the room, the door closed behind him, you let out a frustrated sigh. Up until you fell asleep, if you weren’t thinking about your launch, you were thinking about him. If you weren’t thinking about the numbers from your last launch and the possibility of exceeding them, you were thinking of the way you felt and the words he said while you were in that intimate bubble before the horn honked at him. You had to take a couple melatonin gummies to shut your mind up and knock out. The sleep was amazing, the best you’d had in a while, but then when you were conscious again, Johnny was back.

You could have done without stepping into uncharted territory last night. To him, it may not seem as deep as you’re making it out to be, but there’s too much on the line for you. Your professionalism. Your pride. Your job, quite possibly. His job. You could pay him off if you decided to fire him, but you don’t want to deal with bribes making you feel like a shitty person. You don’t want a new assistant. You want Johnny.

At that very last thought, you pick up the phone and call Jaehyun to have him run the plan by you one more time. He thinks it’s because of his fuck up from before, and you just let him think that. 

Thankfully, Johnny is out of your way until later in the night. He didn’t try to accompany you on your walk, but he has no choice but to be here at the company outing taking place to celebrate your products selling out within 4 hours. 

All shots are on you, so your employees are taking advantage of this, recording  as everyone clinks their shot glasses together and downs the painful alcohol down. You’re two shots in and you mentally note that three is your limit for tonight. Maybe four. You’re already a bit of a lightweight, and there’s no way in hell you’re going to make a fool of yourself in front of your employees. Regardless, you’re having a pretty good time. As a gift, your best friend rented out the bar, so it’s empty save for your large group, and Joohyun’s presence is a godsend. She’s being friendly enough to your employees and for the most part she hasn’t left your side, being the comfort she doesn’t realize you need. 

“Congrats again, babe,” she says excitedly to you, pushing another shot in front of you as she scoots into the seat next to you. “Can we take that vacation in Bora Bora now that you’re free and even richer?” Her teasing smile makes you crack one of your own and sigh.

“You know that trip is for August. Be patient, Bae.”

She rolls her eyes but her expression doesn’t falter. Her gaze wanders a bit as she sips from her mixed drink and then she’s looking at you expectantly. You raise a brow to prompt her.

“How is it that all of your employees are hot as fuck?” she asks bluntly. “Even the women.”

You take a glance around like you don’t remember what everyone looks like. “I mean, I guess.”

“Especially a certain assistant.”

“Go for it,” you tell her, nodding in his direction. The said male is at the bar ordering something with his arm draped over Jaehyun’s shoulders, the two of them laughing about whatever the latter just said. 

“You know that’s not why I said that,” Joohyun scoffs, swatting at your arm. You may have mentioned to her a while ago that your assistant is very nice on the eyes and you sometimes enjoy watching him as he does his job. “Plus, Jaehyun’s more my type.”

You shrug. “I’m sure they’d be down for a threesome.”

Your best friend hits you once again. “What’s with your mood? You’re not acting like someone who just sold out in only a few hours.” 

Before she decided to bring a certain assistant up, you were doing pretty well. You’d been able to not look at him for too long or even have to speak to him much aside from a greeting and his congratulations before he was by Jaehyun’s side and Joohyun was by yours. But now, with him being mentioned, your eyes are having a hard time pulling away from his figure. His tie is loosened and the top few buttons of his shirt are undone. His sleeves are rolled up right under his elbows and show off the tattoo on his arm. 

You rip your eyes off of him and down your shot. Yeah, you’re thinking four.

Joohyun’s incredulous laugh brings your attention back to her. “You didn’t.”

“What?”

She leans into your side to whisper, “You’re in a mood because of Johnny?”

You side-eye her because you don’t like how quickly she read you, and her smile grows wide. 

“Oh, my—you slept with Johnny?!” she continues to whisper-yell.

“No,” you hiss. “I did not. But I could have and that’s the issue.”

“Not seeing the issue?” She’s always been the little devil on your left shoulder. “The only reason I brought him up is because I’ve noticed how often you have his attention when you’re not even in the same area. And I know the difference between a look of concern and a look of want. He’s got a good ratio of both going on.”

“Okay, Miss Couple’s Therapist,” you mutter. “You ever heard of conflict of interest?”

And that shuts her up. Only for a few seconds, though.

“All I’m saying is I know you’ve thought about it… and you’re probably thinking about it now,” she giggles, making it hard for you to keep glaring at her. “I’m just trying to help you understand that it wouldn’t be a bad thing if there is a mutual understanding between the two of you on what flies and what cannot and shall not happen regarding the matter. You’re both consenting adults and it’s obvious he’d be on his knees for you with the snap of a finger.”

You decide against telling her about last night’s situation nor do you let her know you’re considering her words. That you’ve been considering the whole thing for days. 

You change the subject instead, asking her about how her latest trip overseas went.

It lasts for only so long when Johnny and Jaehyun make their way over to your table. 

They greet the two of you and you give a nod, choosing now to be the perfect time to check your notifications, while Joohyun says, “Hey guys.”

“Why are you checking your phone when you should be enjoying your time?” Johnny asks right by your ear, his voice lacking excitement but instead low enough to almost make your thumb falter as you scroll. “Get off your phone and celebrate, please?”

You make the mistake of looking up. He’s too close to your face to use the music playing through the speakers in the bar as an excuse. His eyes don’t have their usual playful glint in them. They look down at you with a purpose, and you’re kind of embarrassed at how fast you comply with his request. You drop the device into your purse and zip it up for extra measures.

“Thank you,” he smiles. “I got this for you two, by the way.”

Johnny slides a plate of your favorite wings on the table.

“Aw thank you, Johnny,” Joohyun coos, shooting you an annoyingly smug glance. “Are you gonna sit with us?”

“Is that okay with you, boss?” Jaehyun asks after sharing a look with his friend.

“Have at it,” you smile tightly, gesturing to the seats across from you. While they make themselves comfortable, you steal your best friend’s shot and actively ignore the way she looks at you from the corner of her eye.

Joohyun and Jaehyun fall into conversation easily after she compliments the watch he’s wearing. You nibble on some celery, actively ignoring how Johnny’s still too close. He subtly squeezes your knee to get your attention, and when he’s got it, he tilts his head in the direction of the bar. 

“I drank enough,” you tell him with a shake of your head.

“It’s not about a drink. I would like to speak to you alone, please,” Johnny explains in a whisper. A tiny voice in your mind says hell no because of what Joohyun has put in your head, but the rational voice reminds you that he is your assistant and you can’t avoid him forever. 

You tell your best friend that you’re gonna get a drink and that you’ll be back, and when she notices Johnny getting up with you she nods with a whisper of a smirk on her lips all without breaking the conversation she’s having. 

“What’s up?” you ask once seated on a barstool, at least a few seats away from everyone else.

“I’m sorry about earlier. I was trying to make light of the situation and I took it too far. As for last night, it was wrong of me to make a proposition like, so I want to apologize for that, as well.”

You nod as he speaks, letting his words process in your brain. 

“I spoke out of line last night and gave you an opening, so that part was on me. I apologize and I hope we can move forward from it. Thank you for your apology.” You try to get up and make your way back to your table quickly, but Johnny gently grabs your hand until he knows you’ll stay in your seat. 

For a moment he wanted to just apologize so you can stop being distant with him and he can stop purposely avoiding you for your space, but your response rubs him the wrong way and now he doesn’t really want to drop it. He wants to talk about it because the topic clearly came up for a reason last night and he’s tired of denying how he feels towards you, especially now that he knows he’s not alone after a while of thinking there was no way in hell his little crush would even get him this far. 

“Can you not shut me out right now?”

You really don’t like his ability to see through you.

“I accepted your apology and gave you the one you deserved... how am I shutting you out?” you bullshit him anyway.

“I’m not gonna pretend that what happened last night didn’t happen. I can’t,” Johnny tells you honestly. “Can I speak to you as a friend instead of your employee for a moment?”

“I guess,” you shrug.

“As your friend, what I say cannot be held against me as your assistant.”

“Whatever, John. Go ahead.” 

“I want you,” he confesses, and there’s really no going back from here. “I am very attracted to you and when you spoke about wanting to be vulnerable and taken care of last night it only made me want you more. And if there’s anyone you can let your guard down with and that will take great care of you, it’s me, and you know this.”

All you can do is stare at him for a while. If you hadn’t had that conversation with Joohyun a while ago you would not still be in this seat, letting him know you’re truly considering his proposition. The dip in your gut at his confession confirms your feelings, but your brain and your body conflict. 

Can you separate business from pleasure in this instance? 

If you allow your desires to become reality and it’s nothing like what you imagined, you’d never be able to look at him the same, no matter how good he is at his job. You’d either have to fire him or become so distant he’d want to quit. Would a bribe really have to be offered for the well-being of your precious company? The thought alone rubs you the wrong way.

But if you’re being honest with yourself, you just know it wouldn’t be a bad experience because it’s Johnny. He’s calculated and good at anything that gets thrown at him. You truly believe him when he says he’d never disappoint you. But how will you go about seeing him five days a week without seeing him in a different light? You’re professional but there would definitely be a change in your dynamic.

“I adore you as my assistant, John,” you finally speak up after too long. “And I do consider you a friend. I just don’t want to compromise our relationship over lust.”

“It’s not just lust, though,” Johnny states. “I’m not in love with you or anything but I care about you and want to take care of you the way we both know you need and deserve.”

He’s saying all of the right things and it’s almost as if the universe is rubbing him in your face. Your control is slipping and you don’t like it. You would love to be taken care of. You crave it. Running a business right before the age of thirty comes with so much stress and bullshit and you haven’t been taken care of in years, at least not properly. You’re content with being single because you give yourself everything you need and you love having your own space, but it does get lonely sometimes. And you can’t do everything yourself, at least not to the extent you need. Your eyes scan down from his face to his hands and your resolve gets a little weaker. 

“I’m not going to push you, okay? I just had to let you know that I’m here to help you in many more ways than in the office and that if anything were to ever happen, my lips are sealed. I’d even sign a damn contract if that meant I could have you for just one whole day.”

“A whole day?” you ask before you can stop your curiosity from being known. 

“I can’t elaborate on that. I can talk to you as a friend all I want but I know that too much detail can fuck up my job if you’re not down and I’m perfectly content with my job right now.”

He’s so vague, yet he’s said just the right amount. It’s easy to imagine what exactly could be in store if you release your inhibitions and just agree, but it’s not that easy. And Johnny understands that.

“Just think about it, alright?” He requests, and you nod slowly. “What drink would you like?”

“I’ve already had four shots—”

“No one said it had to be alcoholic,” Johnny laughs. 

“Hello?” Johnny’s morning voice grumbles. 

“Okay.”

It’s quiet on the other end of the line for a while as Johnny wakes up and decodes your single word. When he understands, his smile can be heard through his next words.

“Would you prefer I go to you or you come here?”

“I’ll go to you.”

“How does noon sound?”

“Good,” you nod, even though he can’t see the movement.

“Alright. There’s a couple of questions I have before you come over, though,” he tells you, his voice suddenly a lot more serious than it was before.

“Okay, go ahead,” you sigh, curling into a ball on your sofa. 

“Do you trust me?”

“I do.” Of course you trust him. Johnny smiles at how quick your answer. “You know that.”

“Trusting me with your work and trusting me with your mind and body are completely different things,” he tells you matter-of-factly. “But yes, I did know. I just needed to ask.”

“I clearly trust you enough to be hours away from going to your place without thinking you’re gonna exploit or blackmail me.”

“And I appreciate it. As I said, I’ll sign a contract if you’re still in your head about it.” At the dismissive response you give him, he continues with his questions. “We’re not gonna be weird about this before, during, and especially after everything, right?”

“No, I won’t be weird,” you chuckle, knowing his ‘we’ translates to ‘you.’ “It would’ve took me way longer to give you an answer if I was still gonna be weird or standoffish.”

“What made you change your mind so quickly?”

You blink at the tree on the other side of your window blankly. It took less than a day to give him a response, and while he may have popped up in your dream last night, Joohyun was right. You want him and he’s not shy about letting you know how much he wants you in return, so why play this game of tiptoeing and faux unclarity?

“You’re asking too many questions now,” you deadpan. “I’ll see you later.”

The last thing you hear before you hang up is Johnny laughing quietly to himself, sounding endeared.

You’ve always been punctual, so when you knock on his door, it’s twelve on the dot. And Johnny was expecting this, with it only taking him a couple of seconds to unlock and open the door for you. 

“Hey,” he greets you with a smile and you immediately take in his appearance, having never been around Johnny in anything but formal wear. You take in how he looks in the comfort of his own home, his brown hair is parted down the middle in comparison to how he always has it pushed back, and his fitted white tee shirt and joggers are a stark difference from the button-downs and slacks he usually adorns around you. He looks good either way, you note. 

“Hey.” 

You walk past him into his home and take your shoes off, and while pleasantries are exchanged, it’s Johnny’s turn to give you elevator eyes. The grey color of your athletic wear draws attention to the curve of your ass and hips. Your hair isn’t in its signature style, but out and flowing about freely. When you turn back around to face him he notices you don’t have your typical red lipstick on, just a clear sheen covering your lips. He didn’t think you could look any better, but here he is, being proven wrong. 

You’re guided down a hallway and into his room, and the first thing you notice is a cute stuffed animal on his dresser. One you remember buying him for his birthday because that was his only request, seeing that it was limited edition.

“I still can’t believe you wanted this of all things,” you laugh fondly, picking it up and examining it.

“You gave me a budget and this fit in it,” Johnny shrugs, coming up behind you. His chest molds into your back naturally, causing you to look up from the plushie and up at him through the mirror in front of you. “There was no way in hell I was coming out of pocket for that myself when you were willing to spend big bucks on me.”

You relax into his chest, the vibration against your back a very pleasant feeling. “Touché.”

The last few days of building sexual frustration did nothing to prepare you for the suffocating blanket of tension that envelopes you once Johnny lifts your head up to the side and presses one of the gentlest kisses to your lips. Followed by another chaste one, and another until you find yourself chasing his lips.

“Feel free to bite into it when it becomes too much for you,” Johnny graciously offers in a whisper that tickles your lips.

You scoff, amused by his confidence. 

“I’m a grown ass woman,” you remind him. “I promise you there’s nothing I couldn’t handle.”

“And I’m gonna hold you to that.” He nods, using your own words against you. You’re turned around by his hands on your hips until you’re facing him. A moment of silent eye contact translate to him challenging you before his pretty, soft lips slowly slide in time with yours. 

The longer he kisses you, the more your body melts into his. You find yourself being pulled forward, him walking backwards. The kiss interrupted when he sits down at the foot of his bed, but then you’re pulled onto his lap, straddling him to resume it. A hand on the side of his face prompts him to deepen the kiss, and your mouth instantly opens when you feel his tongue brush against your bottom lip, the wet muscle minty when it touches your own and you curl yours around it to get an even better taste. 

Your hands find his hair as his own grip your ass, pulling a muffled whimper out of you. And then you’re flipped onto your back, legs falling apart to give Johnny freedom to stand. He swiftly takes his shirt off and then he’s interrupted by your palms glide up his abdomen. You’ve never felt small around practically anyone in your adult years, but with how he hovers over you, you feel tiny. You know he and Jaehyun have been going to the gym frequently, but at this angle, you can really appreciate just how big and broad he is.

Originally, you figured you’d give him the reign to do whatever he wanted and you’d bask in being a pillow princess for once in your life, but in the position you’ve found yourself in, with his print in your face, you drag your hands back south and tug his waistband down. 

Johnny just watches you silently until he understands you’re doing more than just assisting him with stripping. Your hand grabs hold of his semi (your mouth waters at how hung he is and you briefly wonder how you never noticed before), his sweatpants forgotten halfway down his thighs. The way your eyes have tunnel vision and you lick your lips tells him your plan. “You wanna suck my dick?” he asks anyway, making sure he accessed this correctly. 

Your eyes fly up to meet his gaze. “Yeah. You want me to?”

“You think I’d ever say no to you?”

His response goes straight in between your legs, so you focus your attention back on his dick, which has grown some during the time of your small interaction, and you might be a little more excited about this than you initially thought you’d be. 

You let spit fall from your mouth onto his tip, then spread it down with your hand. You flick your wrist up and down a few times and lean forward, licking a broad stripe up his shaft. At the deep exhale he releases, you glance up at him through your lashes, and the sight of him with his jaw tightened in anticipation makes you want to give him so much more, so you suck the tip into your mouth. 

Fingers move your hair behind your ear for you and if you still had any inhibitions at this point, they’re lost now. Your head bobs back and forth slowly as you continue to look him in his eyes; it’s hard to look anywhere else when you’ve never been looked at so intensely in this position. You gather spit on the tip of your tongue and spread it across his head, circling the wet muscle around it until he hums and you need to feel the weight of him back inside. 

“Tap my leg, okay?”

You furrow your brows at his words, but your silent question is answered when there’s a hand on the back of your head and the tip of his dick hits the back of your throat lightly as if in warning before his hips pull back then he’s back in your throat. Your hands come up to his thighs as he sets a slow pace to fuck your face, and when his head falls back the moment he realizes he can go as far as he wants, you close your eyes and prepare for the onslaught you know you’re about to take.

Johnny’s hips instantly pick up speed and roughness, and while he’s still in control of himself, he loses a bit of sanity. After a year of silent pining and thinking this would never happen, he’s fucking his boss's face, and of course, of fucking course you don’t have a gag reflex. 

You stick your tongue out flat to lick at the bottom of his shaft as he does the rest of the work and the feeling of spit bubbling out the sides of your mouth and making its way down your chin digs your fingers into his skin since you can’t clench your thighs together. Your hair is gathered for extra leverage, and the pull of your scalp is such a delicious feeling you moan helplessly just when your nose comes in contact with trimmed hairs. 

“Shit,” he hisses, picking his head back up to watch as he slows back down but thrusts in rougher. You clearly enjoy being used like this, spit traveling down your chin to the point of landing on your jacket and darkening the material. You’re a mess in the best possible way, and this is an image that will haunt his memory for a very long time. 

More of his resolve crumbles at the feeling of your hands curling around to his butt to press him even closer into you, even further down your throat. You haven’t even been touched, barely kissed, but you’re lightheaded and extremely aroused. While he contemplates if he should cum down your throat or wait until he’s buried in your pussy, you’re silently hoping he lets you taste him soon. 

Johnny drags his dick out of your mouth at an extremely slow pace, and how you wrap your lips around him and open your hooded, darkened eyes to look at him again shoots a shiver of pleasure up his spine. 

“Never would’ve thought,” he says around an amused exhale.

“Hm?” you prompt, releasing him with a loud pop. 

“Nothing.” He shakes his head. He grips his dick with his free hand and taps the tip on your awaiting tongue, amused and extremely turned on. Smearing fluids over your tongue and lips, he softly demands: “Play with your pussy for me.”

The smile you give him is a concoction of wicked and endearing. He releases your hair as you manage to wiggle out of your leggings. You soaked through your lace and leggings, you both notice, and Johnny stops you with a disapproving hum when you make a move to remove your panties as well. You squint, he laughs and shakes his head. 

“Over your panties.” You roll your eyes but listen nonetheless, slipping your hand in between your thighs. The material is extremely wet to the touch, and the slickness helps with making the friction pleasurable when your fingertips find your clit and begin rubbing circles. “Slowly.”

Johnny finds your huff of frustration adorable.

The tip of his dick taps your mouth again to gain your attention. You suck spit up to the front of your mouth, then your mouth is stretched wide once again, hand back in your hair. 

Having your throat fucked with the additional pleasure on your clit, even with the slow pace you’re forced to go at, has you practically whining, the sound going in and out as he goes in and out your mouth. That vibration only spurs Johnny to grip your locks tighter and thrust in deeper to feel as much as your mouth and throat offer. 

“You were made for this, huh?” 

“Mhm,” you affirm, eyes rolling back at the way he pulls your hair to tip your head back and get a different, much better angle. 

Johnny honestly didn’t expect you to submit so easily to him. The visual of your face all messy, eyes hardly opened to look into his eyes and hair out of place while touching yourself sparks that feeling in his lower abdomen.

 “You want me to cum in your mouth?” You hum again and even with a mouth full of dick you manage to smile. You’re getting what you wanted. “Don’t swallow it until I tell you to.”

It takes a few more strokes for Johnny to fulfill your wish. The moment his head falls back again you use your free hand to caress his balls, and that does it. He leaves the tip in so that his cum pools onto your tongue and strokes every drop out. The groan he lets out causes you to unintentionally swipe at your clit faster, but he’s distracted anyway.

“Let me see,” Johnny says after collecting himself and stepping back. You straighten your head so none slides down your throat and open your mouth wider for his inspection. He smiles in approval, wishing he could take a picture of the sight before him. “Swallow.”

You lick your lips and wipe away all the spit that traveled outside of your mouth with the sleeve of your jacket after doing so.

Johnny completely removes his pants before he leans down to kiss you again. His tongue languidly licks against the seam of your mouth for an entrance that you grant instantly. While it curls around your own and he gets a taste of himself, Johnny’s hand guides you to bend one leg and he caresses your outer thigh.

“Good?” Johnny asks for extra measure, lips just barely dragging across your cheek to press opened mouth kisses on your jaw. Your head automatically tilts to the opposite side to give him more real estate. You hum, your mouth a bit preoccupied with how your teeth have trapped your bottom lip. 

Your breath stutters at the gentle scrape of his teeth along the length of your neck after he unzips the high neck of your top to expose more skin. Whichever scent you chose to put on today has Johnny latched onto your neck for a while, kissing, licking, nibbling the skin to the point of your breath coming out a lot louder than before and the seat on your underwear getting uncomfortably wetter. You’re throbbing at this point and not being touched enough, so you claw at his sides and call his name quietly.

Johnny eventually spreads your legs more and maneuvers himself in between them. Both of your legs bend at the knee to accommodate his large build in the middle of them, and the hand that isn’t keeping himself propped up by your head kneads your hip. 

“You know how long I’ve been wanting to get you like this?”

“How long?” you prompt, voice hardly above a whisper.

“Since the day you gave me a tour of the building,” he admits and slowly rises until he’s up on his knees. 

“That’s a long time,” you respond lamely, hardly caring when your pussy is practically screaming at you to be touched. He raises a brow, and when he looks back up at your face, your lip is back in between your teeth. 

If he doesn’t touch you soon you might explode.

“I’ve wanted this for a while, too,” you decide to confess, hoping it gets you somewhere. And it does. It’s almost like you’re rewarded for it by Johnny walking back on his knees until he’s far enough to settle on his stomach, face barely inches away from the apex of your thighs. He subconsciously licks his lips at the smell of you. He’s been wanting to taste you for so long now, but he refrains himself because he sees how you’re affected by the lack of attention to your heat. He promised he’d take care of you and that’s exactly what he’s going to do. But not before breaking you. 

“Wish you would’ve told me sooner,” he eventually tells you after having you hold your breath for way too long.

“You know I couldn’t.” The way Johnny looks at you, attentive to every word that comes out of your mouth while he smoothly scoops your legs over his shoulders to wrap his arms around your thighs, makes you continue speaking. “Seems like everything fell into place, though.”

Johnny nods, rests his head on one of your thighs, and looks up at you, brown eyes still watching your mouth intently, as he unhooks one of his arms to push your right leg further to the side. His fingers are soon on your center, gliding up and down your slit, bumping into your clit with each pass. 

“I guess it did.”

Before you can reply, he adds more pressure behind his touch, and your hips just barely lift to get even more. The smile you get in return is attractive as all hell but annoying. He knows exactly what he’s doing to you or he’s just really enjoying himself. Either way, you’re getting more impatient by the second, if the way your hips rise to grind your core against his fingers again says anything. 

“Stay still for me, okay?” You almost pout because you need more, but you promised to give him total control of the situation and you’ve done well thus far, so you press your ass back into his comforter. “There you go.”

Your pussy clenches around nothing.

The light pressure on your clit is soon gone and then the zipper of your jacket gets dragged down all the way. “Take this off for me.”

Sitting up, you do as told. You toss it where your leggings had been dropped and now you’re presented in front of the awe-struck brunet in just your matching set of underwear. You figured you’d wear something nice under your clothes, both for Johnny’s pleasure and for your confidence, and with how Johnny’s eyes settle on the way your breasts are trying to burst out of your snug lacy bra, you know you chose well.

A hand slides up your torso to grab one of your breasts and squeeze it. Somewhere in the midst of him fondling your chest and pressing teasing, yet promising kisses on your inner thighs your eyes drift shut again as you bask in the pleasure. One of your own hands comes up from your side to slide under the cup of your unoccupied tit and pull at your nipple. 

The tip of Johnny’s tongue drags dangerously close to your annoying-still-clothed heat and your patience is shot. 

“John…”

“Yes?” 

“I need more.”

He has the audacity to hum and give your clit a kitten lick. “Do you?”

You huff, stuck between just pushing his face into your pussy or doing what he asks of you, but you promised, so you suck in a breath and give him what he wants.

“John,” you say again, almost whining. 

He doesn’t say anything, just continues to look at you expectantly. And when too much time goes by, it somehow hits you what he wants from you and you groan quietly to yourself.

“Please.”

“That was very convincing,” Johnny snorts. His nose glides across the inside of your thigh like he’s got all the time in the world. It tickles in the best way, but it’s nothing but teasing and you’ve been stimulated enough that if you go more than a couple of seconds more without his mouth giving you direct pleasure, you’ll go insane. So with a great amount of willpower, you try again.

“Johnny,” you whine, giving him your best pout. Addressing him so informally feels foreign, but the way his eyes light up encourages you to keep going.“Please?”

And of course a big smile takes up half of his face and you mentally prepare yourself for what’s next to come. He peels your panties off, both of you watching the line of slick that stretches then breaks in the process, and when you spread your legs even more for him, his mouth salivates. 

Johnny makes sure you’re looking into his eyes as his tongue licks a wide stripe from your entrance to your clit. He wants to be smug at the gasp you let out, but the taste of you shuts his ego up quickly. 

You squeak when you’re suddenly flipped onto your stomach and your ass is lifted up into the air. With yet another broad lick to coat his taste buds with your essence, Johnny buries his face in your pussy. He uses the tip of his tongue to collect the puddle of wetness you’ve produced and smears it over your clit, soon digging  inside to directly stimulate the bundle of nerves. 

Johnny’s lips close around your clit and he sucks on it softly. As the moments pass he gradually sucks harder to the point of you not being able to fight the way your eyes flutter shut and hips push back. He’s nice about the movement, just grabbing your hips to keep you still, soon caressing and kneading. 

“Mm, that feels good,” you compliment. At that very moment, Johnny decides to roll his tongue in up and down motions and apply more pressure behind his hands. “Fuck, that feels so good.”

He prompts you with a hum of his own. 

With how your moans start to get louder and your breath gets quicker and harder, not to mention the tingles you feel building in intensity, you know you’re already close. It’s a beautiful yet frustrating feeling because you don’t want this to end so soon after waiting so long. But you also want him inside of you so bad now.

Johnny comes back up to circle your entrance, and then he goes even higher.

“Are you— fuck,” you groan deeply. 

Your hands grip the pillow your face is buried in and your eyes have found the back of your head again. Johnny just hums at the way you react, the octave of your voice as you let out your sounds of pleasure go straight to his dick. His tongue licks filthily up and down, not leaving an inch untouched nor missing a drop of your juice. His fingers rub your entrance until he slides one in. One becomes two after a few pumps, then his thumb presses into your clit and your back is arched almost uncomfortably.

“Johnny,” you whine again, breath hiccuped. 

“Yes?” he prompts, lifting his head and looking up to see your face peaking around your body, smushed into his pillow still. 

“I wanna cum,” you tell him. It feels too good now. “Fuck, I need to come, Johnny.”

“Then cum for me.” His voice is so gentle yet commanding as his digits speed up. He tongues the skin between your holes sloppily and you try to curl into yourself, your mouth wide opened with no sound coming out of it, your walls clenching madly around the fingers inside of you, and your grip on the cushion is borderline painful.

Johnny helps you ride out your orgasm for as long as possible until your body begins shuddering due to oversensitivity. He gradually slows down to a stop, then removes himself from your body to let you breathe correctly. While he sucks on his fingers, he uses his clean hands to soothingly rub your back, waiting for you to calm back down. 

You’re a bit dazed during the transition of more kissing that leads you on top of him, straddling him once again. You vaguely remember the caresses on your waist or the pinch of his fingers playing with your nipples, but the feeling of your bare pussy dragging against his dick is very memorable because it sparks a desperate need within you to sit on it. 

Johnny’s hands on your hips move you to continue the friction, moving you back and forth on his dick easily. Foreheads connected as you catch your breath from the kiss you just broke away from, the two of you watch silently as his head reappears and disappears behind your lips, turning you both on until he’s fully hard again and you can’t handle him not being inside of you anymore.

You lift up on your knees to align his tip with your entrance. A silent look is exchanged where you ask and he nods once. He lets you take your time, enjoying the feeling of his tip directly rubbing against your sopping entrance.

Your labored breaths at the sensation bring his attention to your chest, and his mouth wraps around a nipple without a thought. By now, you deem his dick wet enough to press his head in your hole and press your hips down. The moment he slides in your head falls back because the stretch burns in the best way. It feels like time doesn’t exist as you work your way down his length, inch by inch. Your hips naturally find a slow rhythm as you lift and drop them to take in more until he slides in and out easily. 

When your features no longer show discomfort, Johnny begins moving with you. Every time he lifts his hips up a little to meet your thrusts his body slumps down the headboard. His hands are loose on your waist as you move your body up and down and he’s got the perfect view of his dick going in and out of your core while you’re controlling the pace and intensity. The muscles in your thighs start to burn, so you slow down to a stop and carefully slide your way down until your clit comes in contact with his pubic bone, resulting in your eyes rolling back, hips grinding on their own accord. 

“How the fuck do you feel this good?” Johnny groans deeply, hands gripping your ass to assist your movements.

His compliment, his hungry, intense gaze as they take you in from your eyes—which mirror his own—down to the trail of slick you’ve left behind on his tamed curls from the swivel of your hips, and the way his cock rubs against your g-spot send you over the edge within moments. Johnny soothingly rubs a cheek with one hand while the other caresses your arched spine, keeping his hips still to let you ride your orgasm out on your own. 

You slump into him, head on his shoulder, panting against his neck. A sigh of content slips out when Johnny hugs you tightly against his broad chest right before asking, “You alright?”

“Great,” you reply breathlessly. 

Johnny smiles at the positive response. He lifts his hips experimentally and gauges your reaction, which is a satisfied hum. 

“You want more?” he asks, hands moving to your hips to carefully grind against him. How could you say no? “Hands and knees, baby.”

You begin climbing off to the side of him then he follows your lead and lifts himself up so you can settle on your knees and bend until your face slides onto his pillow. Your hands grab the sides of it in anticipation. 

A deep groan sounds from behind you, so you crane your neck and see the way he stares down at how he can see everything you have to offer him at this moment. One hand goes to his dick while the other massages one of your cheeks. He runs the swollen tip of his dick along your slit, collecting what’s oozed out. You close your eyes and relax the side of your face into the cushion beneath it and take a breath, preparing yourself for the stretch and intensity this angle never fails to bring.

He slowly starts to breach your entrance. There’s a pause, then you hear him spit down before more of him slips inside of you inch by inch with each roll of his hips. He keeps his movements shallow for a while and your walls reaccept him easily. A particular thrust sends him deep inside of you, his tip just barely kissing your cervix. Your body’s first instinct is to run away from it. His hands on your hips stop you from fleeing, holding you still and rubbing the skin there to ease you. 

“I won’t go too deep,” he tells you, hips still as he kisses up your spine and makes you dizzy by the tenderness of it all. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

You nod at his promises and take another steadying breath, then the pleasurable friction is back. You’d believe anything he told you with that intoxicating voice of his. 

A loud, embarrassing squelch comes out of your core when he’s sheathed inside that makes you bury your face into the pillow. There’s one last kiss at the top of your spine before the body heat from his chest is gone and he’s back upright. He finds his rhythm easily, and hands return to your backside, fingers digging into the flesh, no doubt leaving behind white imprints. He uses his grip as leverage to fuck down into you at a different angle that allows him to speed up and rip an unrestrained moan from your throat. 

“You okay?”

You nod violently and sob, “Yes! Oh, my god, yes.”

Content, Johnny hums and you just know he’s grinning down at you by the sound of his voice when he asks: “Feels good?”

“So good,” you whine, unable to close your mouth or stop noises from coming out of it. You begin dropping your hips down to meet his thrusts, the loud smacks of skin against skin echoing and bouncing off of the walls of his room. “Fuck it feels so good, Johnny.”

“I know, baby” he groans. “And this pussy feels so fucking good—shit.”

The two of you get lost in the rhythm you’ve created and no more words are exchanged for a while, just the sound of groans that comes deep from Johnny’s throat and whines and pants that make you drool all while drying your throat out. The room has gotten increasingly hotter and your bodies now shine with a thin, sticky sheen that makes the back of your thighs stick to the front of his own every time he fucks back into you. Your sensitive nipples rub harshly against the sheets, stimulating you even further to the point of another sob ripping out of your throat and your walls fluttering around his girth. 

“I’m gonna cum,” you whimper. Your divulgence prompts him to reach his arm under you to graze his fingertips over your engorged clit and then you’re repeating your words over and over again until your actions meet your words and you’re cumming all over him. Your essence drips down the insides of your thighs and his balls and his thrusts create wetter, louder noises. A swivel of your hips causes his dick to pop out and suddenly your body is vibrating. 

“There you go, baby,” Johnny praises you, sliding back into you and precisely hitting that spot within you a few more times until your pussy clenches again and he pulls out again, letting more wetness spray the sheets under you. 

“Look at you,” he continues with a deep chuckle. “Making such a big mess.”

You don’t know if he really meant for you to look but your curiosity gets the best of you and you lift your head and look in between your legs. There’s a dark puddle on his sheets and another whine leaves your body, your head falling back into the pillow. 

“Can you handle more?” Johnny asks you softly, slapping the top of your asscheek with his dick. 

You need more. You don’t know what the hell Johnny has done to you and your body but you feel empty and not satisfied enough. Your core is raw at this point but you want nothing more than to feel the velvety skin of his thick, long dick sliding in and out of you and hitting every spot in you that makes your body convulse again. 

“Please,” you beg, wagging your hips to emphasize your needs. “Please, Johnny.”

“I’ve got you begging now?” He sounds so turned on yet taken aback, another dark laugh vibrating your body at the nod of your head and movement of your body. If you were in your right mind, you would be ashamed of your behavior and submission to your assistant, but you’re not. And who cares when you’ve never felt this way before and crave to feel even more?

“I need it,” you confess without shame. “Need you back inside of me.”

Johnny doesn’t need any more convincing to be back, deep within you and instantly satisfying you again. Your breath stutters and it’s not easy to speak in coherent sentences, but that doesn’t stop you from trying to voice your pleasure and appreciation to the brunet whose self-control only continues to dissolve the faster he slams into you and the higher your voice gets.

Both of your breath patterns get quicker, loud, more erratic, signaling the approach of his first release and your third? Fourth? You can’t keep up with it when your brain has turned into mush and you can barely remember your own name, only his own registering in your brain. His name rolls off of your tongue like a mantra, driving him insane behind you. 

“Where do you want me to cum?” he pants. It takes you too long to swallow in an attempt to lubricate your throat and answer him, Johnny humming in question impatiently. 

“My back,” you manage to squeak out. You’re impressed with the amount of control he has, the slamming of his hips into your ass somehow speeding up and getting rougher. Johnny lacks the control and precision from before, and the way his tip kisses your cervix rips a yell out of you, eyes watering as you hold on for dear life. He releases a drawn out groan from deep within, and not too long later you feel ropes of cum land on your lower back and ass.

Your body is shaking. Tears leak out of your eyes, your breath is hard to catch, and quiet cries come out. You’re gently flipped over and pulled into strong arms, quickly finding comfort in the chest you settle into. 

“You’re okay, baby,” Johnny’s soft voice says to you, but you can’t open your eyes or your mouth to acknowledge him. You’re confused about why you’re reacting to this, but you don’t dislike it. Especially when you have Johnny to soothe you and help you calm down. “Are you hurting anywhere?” 

You shake your head and finally try to respond, but it takes a couple of coughs and harsh swallows of spit to do so. “No. I feel good. Everywhere.”

Your speech is choppy, unlike your usual way of speaking, but stringing words into sentences that flow well is too much work right now. Johnny doesn’t mind; he loves that he had that effect on you after you’ve had him under your spell for so long. He loves the fact he successfully kept his promise to you and now you’re boneless in his arms. 

He reaches for the glass of water on his nightstand and hands it to you. “Are you ready for a bath?”

“Can I fall asleep in the bath?” you ask, wiping your face tiredly.

“Sure,” Johnny says softly before setting you down on the dry part of the bed. “I’ll come get you once it’s ready.”

That’s how the rest of the day plays out, you getting taken care of in multiple ways. Your favorite method is with his tongue and fingers as he made out with your pussy for what felt like hours in lieu of an apology for going so hard. And maybe Johnny purposely falls asleep next to you after you’re bathed, fed, and exhausted from coming, curled up into his side in the new sheets because he wants you to stay a little longer. There’s no way in hell he’ll ever get to see this side of you again after today.

“Good morning,” Johnny greets you. It’s eight in the morning the following Monday, and he’s got your avocado toast and fruit in his hands as he walks up to your desk.

You're rummaging through your bag looking for the bobby pins you threw inside of it this morning in your rush to get to work on time because believe it or not, you overslept. You give up in favor of looking up to greet him back, but your voice decides not to come out when your eyes lock with his. There hadn’t been any contact since you woke up in the middle of the night and he walked you to his door with a lingering kiss that quite literally took your breath away to close out the short chapter of your relationship you’d just created. You were still tired, but you definitely were not supposed to sleep over, so it was nothing. 

But now, seeing the same eyes that stared into your own while you came and cried his name multiple times, all you can do is blink. And then he licks his pretty lips. You knew this would happen. You’re not mad at it, though. How could you be when you’d never experienced someone like him before? In hindsight, there was no possible way to go back to normal after the intimacy, tenderness, and raw attraction you shared that day. No possible way to never want another taste. 

“You okay?” he asks unsurely, setting your plates down. 

And here it comes.

“Johnny,” you say lowly, setting your bag down. The quirk in his brow and the corner of his mouth lets you know he’s onto you. And that just makes things easier for you. “Lock the door.”

yikesssssss