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#but still the only 'conventionally attractive' thing i got was big eyes and even then they don't go with the rest of my face

amica-aenigmata-naboo · 5 months

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Endlessly

Astarion x plus size! Y/N - drabble - 1.3K WC NSFW 18+

Masterlist

Warnings: insecurities, yelling, self deprecation, fluff on fluff on fluff, Astarion being a big sap, loveeeeee

Part 2

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You and Astarion had been together for 8 bliss filled months. You knew you were in love with him the day he asked you to be his. Yet you never said it. He hadn’t said it either. Honestly, you were still amazed he was with you. You knew your size wasn’t perceived as conventionally attractive or desirable. It used to bother you, but you were quite comfortable in yourself now. Until it came to Astarion. It was like you were trying to hide any and all fat on your body when he was around. He had never made any negative remarks, quite the opposite actually. You just knew one day he would wake up and see through the honeyed fog of lust and find somebody who matched him. Somebody perfect, just like him.

You watched as Karlach played in the stream, she had such a child-like wonder about her. It made you happy to just be in her presence. Shadowheart sat on the shore with you, meditating. Everyone else was back at camp.

“Come on Y/N! Come play!” Karlach yelled, splashing a bit of water at you.

You got up wading into the water up to your knees. Thankfully you wore shorts and a massively oversized top. You felt comfortable enough around everyone to be seen like this. You and Karlach flicked water at each other, finding rocks and shells to take back to camp. You talked about nothing and everything. Gale and Wyll made their way down, even Lae’zel. The weather was just too good to not enjoy your little beach. You didn’t see Astarion make his way down the hill. He walked up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. You lurched forwards, not used to touching as you were still nervous about it - especially when he touches your waist/stomach. Your foot slipped on the soft mud beneath you, you fell forwards. You caught yourself, avoiding any injury but you were soaked. Your clothes clung to you, your body on full display. You scrambled up, crossing your arms over your torso. You pushed past Astarion as he held a hand out to you. You rushed up the hill and to your tent, stripping your clothes off.

“Darling? May I come in?” Astarion said from the front of your tent.

“Not right now Star.” You tried hard to hide the waiver in your voice, or the subtle sniffles you were letting out. You layered on clothes, wanting to hide within yourself somehow.

“Love…” he said, barely peeking inside.

“I said not now! Please just go away…” you yelled, sounding harsher than you intended. You laid on your bedroll, curling into yourself. You cried until you fell asleep, the moment earlier exhausting and overwhelming you.

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Astarion backed away from your tent. He had never heard you yell before, much less at him. He racked his brain, not exactly sure what he did wrong. It clicked after a moment, he touched you. You two had never established boundaries verbally but you knew he was ok with touching. You, however, were only ok with light touches that didn’t really invade your person. Holding hands, a kiss, caressing your face - all things he had done before that you seemed to be happy with. But today, perhaps he had overstepped. When he saw you and your radiant smile, so full of joy to just exist in the moment looking for shells and splashing about with Karlach. He acted on instinct, without even properly thinking it through. He felt positively wretched. Out of everyone he understood most how awful it is to have physical boundaries crossed, and he crossed yours. He walked to his tent glumly. He would seek you out later, right now he wanted to give you the space you deserved.

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You woke up later. The crickets outside chirped and you could hear the campfire crackling. You rubbed your eyes. A blanket had been thrown over you, a note was folded up on your table. You got up and snatched it. “Find me when you wake - A” You sighed, closing your eyes. The way you yelled at him echoed in your mind. You were flustered, you hadn’t meant for it to sound so mean. You peeled off your coat, feeling hot and constricted in all the layers you had piled on. You left your tent in a sweater and pants. You felt less anxious than you had earlier, knowing your campmates didn’t care what you looked like. All you cared about was that Astarion had touched your stomach, the spot you were most insecure about. You couldn’t act like it wasn’t there anymore, you had to face him. You willed back your misty eyes, preparing for the worst. You softly called his name outside of his tent, waiting for him to call you in. He did, and he looked just as nervous as you felt. Your stomach dropped but you tried not to show it.

You sat rather far from him, wanting to have space between you both. “I’m sorry I yelled at you.” you spoke first.

“I’m not worried about that darling… I am worried about the fact that I hurt you.” he spoke softly but you could hear the guilt in his tone.

You looked at him, confusion dripping from your face. “I wasn’t thinking… and I know that isn’t an excuse, but I’m sorry I crossed your boundary. It won't happen again… that being said, we need to have a talk.”

Your blood ran cold, a cold sweat covering your back. This was it. You nodded stoically, convincing yourself not to cry.

“I would like to know where you are comfortable with me touching you. I, personally, am comfortable with you touching me wherever, whenever.” he smiled at you gently, a simple twitch up the corners of his mouth.

Well… this is not where you thought the conversation was going. “I…” you tried to collect your thoughts, “I do like your touch. I want you to know that. I love it, in fact. What happened earlier wasn’t anything to do with you, I just…” you paused, unsure if you should even tell him.

He looked at you with his big pleading eyes, you had to tell him or this wall would intrude upon your relationship.

“I am insecure about my… size… my weight. I know you have had many diviner conquests, and you yourself are a vision… I just… I don’t know… I don’t want to disappoint y-” you were cut off by his lips melding into yours. They were soft but you could feel a fire behind them.

“Respectfully, darling, shut up.” he kissed you again, deeply. As if trying to convey a multitude of feelings at once. “You are perfect. And you are not a conquest, you are the one I…” he paused, his eyes flicking between yours before he spoke again. “You are the one I love. And I love all of you.”

You were shocked, you were sure you felt everything about your relationship deeper than he did. And yet, here he was saying he loves you. “I love you… I’m so sorry about this whole thing.” you scooted closer to him, reaching for his hand.

“Don’t be sorry. I understand insecurities, nasty little thoughts that cannibalize you from within.” he cupped your cheek, “You have nothing to worry about. You are perfect, I love everything about you.”

He sounded so sincere you couldn’t help but tear up. “Can we… work on expanding my boundaries? I want to touch you, and have you touch me… I just need some time to get comfortable. Get out of my head, ya know?” you asked, picking at your nails. You hadn’t talked about intimacy with anyone else before, not like this.

“Of course little love… we’ll go at your pace. Honestly, I’m excited to do this with you.” he smiled, his fangs making an appearance. “I love you, endlessly.” he said as he kissed your cheeks before landing on your lips. The kiss was sweet, almost like it was sealing a promise.

“I love you, endlessly.” you spoke on his lips before connecting your mouths once again.

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Naboo's Note:

Hello! I hope everyone enjoys, I haven't seen too many plus size reader inserts with Astarion so here is my shot at it. As a plus size person I think this kind of representation is important and very validating. Post again soon, love you guys!! Thanks for all the likes, comments, reblogs, and requests!! XOXOXOXO

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yggdraseed · 1 month

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Unassorted Toga Thoughts

Because God knows I haven't emitted enough of those on Tumblr or at people in my social circle over the past few months.

I really like how Toga fills the role of a femme fatale character like you see in a ton of comic books and manga, but only the broad strokes. The female villain who's got sexual overtones, like with Toga needing to strip to use her Quirk.

But in Toga's case, Horikoshi really went out of his way to avoid making her the typical sex bomb, supermodal villainess. She's got a very average body, usually covers herself up quite a bit when she isn't using Transform, and her appearance can be legitimately unsettling.

Like when you go for the "misunderstood monster" archetype in a female character, it's easy to write other characters demonizing them right down to their appearance, but then make them conventionally attractive. I like how Toga is only going to be charming to some people. For others, her big, tooth grins and the shadows under and around her eyes will make it harder to see her that way.

Because the whole point is that a person's worth isn't in their appearance or how neatly they conform. Having aspects to her appearance that are unsettling doesn't justify how Toga was treated by her parents, just like the blood fixation that came with her Quirk did not, on its own, make her a bad person - and certainly not deserving of abuse. I think that to have made Toga too easy on the eyes would have damaged the message, that things she was born with and can't control are not her fault. Some of her actions are, but those actions were informed by people mistreating her and distancing themselves from her over things she couldn't control before she ever started to act out in any way.

I also feel like the exhibitionist aspect is an expression of how Toga wants to be seen, wants to be understood in her entirety, and wants to be wanted just for what she is. No masks, no disguises.

I know it's easy to see it as justification for a horny writing decision, and on one level it is just Horikoshi's horny side bleeding through the page, but I think there is still a creative thought process behind it. That being a sort of psychological outlet for how badly Toga wants people to see the genuine her, wants to form an intimate connection, and I think baring herself like that specifically and her overbearing, inappropriate shows of affection in general are the result of her needs for a deeper connection and to be desired not being met until she can't moderate them in a healthy way anymore.

I also just like the way Toga can be an allegory for so many different things without being locked into any one thing. The way her Quirk and the way it influences how she perceives and interacts with other people and the world in general can really resonate for a neurodivergent reader just as much as it can for a lesbian or bi reader.

Even though I don't think this is the strongest connection, I'm trans and felt a little of my own experiences reflected back at me through how Toga feels so unwanted and wants so much for someone to love her. Plus, you know... the transformation thing.

I've also got a much more organized little essay in mind for how Toga's parents and society in general have gaslit her into believing she's something she's not - i.e., a bad person. I'll get around to that one sometime soon.

#toga himiko #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #character analysis #himiko toga

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bro-atz · 4 months

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1024UB CHAPTER THIRTEEN: WHAT'S WITH THE THIRD DEGREE?

word count: 2.6k

table of contents ♤ previous chapter ♤ next chapter

Two months hadn’t been up yet, so Gyuri was pleasantly surprised to get a text from Iseul planning a Girl’s Night Out (GNO) for them that Friday. Gyuri didn’t really care for putting effort into her appearance, but for a night out with Iseul, she always looked her best. Conventionally, the two girls were pretty attractive, though they didn’t seem so around their friends because they were usually dressed in sweats with dark circles under their eyes and hair a gigantic mess. If they went out looking prettier than usual, then they got a lot of free drinks. The girls would never say no to free drinks, especially at the expense of men.

After the girls got ready, they stopped by Ze Cafe first for a quick cup of coffee. The restaurant was really close to the cafe, so it was a happy coincidence that they could kill time with Wooyoung and Hongjoong, who were working the closing shift. The girls had left their apartment extremely early, so they had an hour or so until their reservation was ready.

“Hey, Woo,” Gyuri greeted the boy as they finally got to the front of the line.

“Gyu! Iseul!” Wooyoung seemed so happy to see them.

“How’s the shift been today?” Iseul asked the boy.

“Honestly, really shitty. It’s super busy today. I feel like my arms are falling off.”

“Yeah, it’s so weird seeing the cafe like this. It’s usually pretty dead around this time,” Gyuri looked around to see that pretty much all the seats were taken.

“They’re all super annoying too. Look, most of them are guys taking their girls out on dates,” Wooyoung aggressively rolled his eyes. “A lot of those girls were clinging to their boyfriends and kept doing that fucking annoying thing where she’s “indecisive” so he has to order for her. I hate that I’m on register.”

“Then get off it. There is a whole line!” Hongjoong slapped the back of Wooyoung’s neck. “Go call out orders. You’re taking too long on register.”

Wooyoung sulked as he walked to the end of the counter to call out drinks. Hongjoong then turned to the girls and said, “Let me kill this line first, then we can talk.”

He took their orders and the girls observed as Hongjoong really did kill the line in record time, a gorgeous smile plastered to his face the entire time despite some customers barking their order at him. Even after Wooyoung called out their drinks, there was still a pretty big rush in the cafe. Everything only managed to die down after twenty minutes, and from there, there wasn’t a single new customer in sight. Wooyoung smiled happily as he finally got to talk to the girls, Hongjoong joining them moments later.

“You guys are all dressed up, where are you going?” Hongjoong asked.

“Well, we want to go to that restaurant Hwa, Woo, and San went to the other night—”

“Oh, that greek one? That was really good,” Wooyoung confirmed.

“Great, I’m excited for that. After, I want to go for karaoke,” Iseul concluded.

“We’re going to have to grab like a million drinks before I go for karaoke,” Gyuri added.

“Can I come? That sounds like so much fun!” Wooyoung begged the girls.

“Sorry, Woo, GNO.”

“Guys night out?”

“No, girls night out,” Gyuri corrected Wooyoung.

“Hey, I can be a girl!” Wooyoung declared before he started batting his eyelashes and acting like those lovey-dovey girls he was complaining about just moments earlier. He tucked his imaginary long hair behind his ear and stuck out his butt.

Everyone chose to ignore Wooyoung’s antics. “I must apologize for him. He’s just crazy,” Hongjoong said with a deep sigh.

“We know,” Iseul laughed.

Hongjoong and Iseul entered their own separate conversation, Wooyoung turning to Gyuri with a sullen face. He was upset until he suddenly remembered something and said, “You’ve been texting San a lot lately.”

Gyuri, who was mid-sip, nearly choked on her coffee, but acted as nonchalant as she possibly could. “Yeah, so?”

“You don’t respond to my texts,” Wooyoung’s face pulled into a frown that looked exactly like an emoticon.

“All you do is send me memes and videos.”

“You could at least like the messages or something… Don’t ignore me…” his frown deepened.

Gyuri agreed, though she didn’t want to, just to get him to stop looking like the frowny-face emoticon. She was still a little worried that Wooyoung would continuing asking her questions about her texting San, so she turned to Iseul and said, “Hey, we should get a move on. Our reservation is in ten minutes.”

The two girls waved goodbye to their friends as they exited Ze Cafe and made their way to the restaurant. The first thing the girls noticed about the restaurant was how freakishly nice it was. They were both starting to worry if they could afford it, but Gyuri remembered that Wooyoung wanted to come back, which meant it was probably affordable. Her hunch was right, and both girls let out huge sighs of relief before ordering their food and drinks.

There were two things Gyuri wanted to accomplish that night: one, figure out if Iseul and Yunho were a thing, and two, try to set Iseul up with San if Yunho wasn’t a love interest. She didn’t start her pursuit of the goals until they both got their dinner and Iseul started eating— that’s when her guard was lowered all the way.

“How’re the labs going?” she eased into the conversation.

“Great! Yunho is so reliable,” Iseul rolled her eyes, her words overwhelmingly sarcastic. Her tone changed to sincerity when she said, “I do like working with him, though, so honestly it’s not so bad.”

“So, is there anything going on between you two? He’s been grabbing textbooks from our apartment lately… Are y’all hooking up?”

Iseul choked on her food as soon as Gyuri insinuated that she and Yunho were having sex. “Dude! I’m eating!”

“You’re not denying it—”

“There is nothing going on! I literally just keep stealing his textbooks because I don’t want to buy my own.”

“Promise?”

“Yes, promise.”

The two returned to their food, but Gyuri wasn’t done quite yet. “You love him though, don’t you? Like romantically.”

Once again, Iseul choked on her food. She glared at Gyuri as she guzzled water in attempt to rescue herself from needing to be Heimlich-ed.

“I’m just messing with you,” Gyuri couldn’t help but laugh.

“Please stop this and let me eat my food in peace,” Iseul was close to tears.

“Okay, but seriously, I have a question for you.”

“…What is it?”

“If I told you someone in the group had a crush on you, how would you react?”

“If you fucking say it’s Yunho—”

“No! It’s not,” Gyuri heavily assured the girl. “I’m being serious right now.”

Iseul sighed and put her utensils down. She leaned back and actually thought about her question, making the girl feel a little happy that she was taking this seriously and not going to give her a bullshit answer. “I guess it depends on who it is,” she concluded.

“What do you mean?”

“If it’s Mingi, then absolutely not.”

“Hey, what’s wrong with Mingi?” Gyuri couldn’t help but feel offended for her video game brother from another mother.

“He’s too chaotic and gets angry too easily when we play games. He stresses me out too much,” the girl rubbed her temples. “Don’t get me wrong, I love him, but I could never love him like that.”

There was nothing Gyuri could say to that other than, “That’s fair.”

They returned to their food once more and Gyuri actually allowed Iseul to finish her food in peace. As they waited for the waiter to come back with their credit cards after paying for the check, Iseul said, “Someone in the group likes me, then? I know for sure you would not be asking me that hypothetically.”

“…Yes, someone in the group likes you.”

“If it’s Mingi—”

“Stop hating on my boy!” Gyuri balled up her receipt and threw it at Iseul, earning a laugh from the girl.

After they left the restaurant and started walking to the bar, Gyuri wanted to continue asking Iseul about her relationship with Yunho— she didn’t want to encourage San to go for her if there actually were feelings between her and Yunho because that would just break his heart, and the whole point of this was to set them up, not hurt San. As she pondered how to open up the previous dialogue, Iseul spoke first.

“I don’t want to know who it is,” she said definitively.

Gyuri blinked in confusion— was she talking about the person in the group that has a crush on her? Carefully, she chose her next words, “Okay, I respect that. May I ask why?”

“If he likes me, then he should tell me himself.” Iseul was definitely talking about the crush. Gyuri was so glad she didn’t say anything confusing because that was one hole she did not want to dig for herself. Now was the perfect chance for her to bring up Yunho, though.

“I get that. I just know that his concern is that you like Yunho—”

“I do like Yunho, but not like that.”

“What do you mean?”

Iseul hummed out loud, presumably searching for the right words to answer Gyuri. “He’s like a llama.”

Gyuri near shat herself— what the actual fuck? “A llama?!” If her voice changed any further, she’d definitely be Yzma. “What the hell?!”

“Or a golden retriever…”

“Iseul, what the actual fuck?! So Yunho is an animal to you? Why are you saying this?” Gyuri was near tears. She didn’t know if she wanted to laugh or cry, but she was definitely going to die doing one or the other.

“I just want to spend time with him and pet him, but as a faithful companion, not a boyfriend or anything,” Iseul admitted honestly.

“You’re so weird, Iseul… You confuse me,” Gyuri concluded.

They finally arrived at the bar, and Gyuri definitely needed a drink at that point. She knew three things for certain in that moment: one, that Iseul definitely does not have romantic feelings for Yunho; two, that San should ask Iseul out; and three, that she would definitely be telling everyone that Yunho is a fucking llama.

The bar was completely packed, but luckily enough, they got there at the same time a couple sitting at the bar left. The girls claimed the now empty seats and put in their orders for drinks as well as started tabs— they were going to be there for a while. What Gyuri did not anticipate was Iseul turning the tables on her and asking her many questions, only Iseul had many more questions than Gyuri did.

On her first drink, the two girls were still pretty sober, so Iseul started easy. “You seem down, like more than usual. Are you okay?”

“Yeah?” Gyuri regretted it as soon as it came out of her mouth; why did she make it sound like a question?

“You like completely disappeared from the last ROD party, and Hongjoong’s excuse was such bullshit and you know it.”

“I actually have no idea what he told you guys. What did he say I went to do?”

“You were having “lady issues” which I think he said just so that the other guys wouldn’t press too hard for details,” Iseul rolled her eyes.

Gyuri’s drink disappeared in an instant. She wasn’t going to kill Hongjoong, but she definitely was not happy with him. “I was just not really having a good night, but I didn’t want anyone feeling bad about me leaving.”

“You’re lucky that the boys are boys. Hongjoong knew that I immediately knew he was lying, so he asked me not to say anything.”

“Thanks…”

The bartender returned with round two of their drinks, and Iseul started her second round of questioning. “Did Seonghwa not telling you about Bora really bother you that much?”

“Yes. I expected better from him. Did you know I actually met her before everyone else did?”

“Shut up, no way! Why did he do that?”

“He’s my best friend, so he wanted me to be the first to know,” Gyuri took an ice cube from her mixed drink in her mouth and crushed it angrily.

“Hey, I thought I was your best friend.”

“You’re my wife for life.”

“Where’s my ring, then?” Iseul held out her hand, her third finger ringless. Gyuri averted her eyes and pretended that she didn’t hear Iseul. She could feel Iseul staring intensely, so she changed the subject.

“Anyway, he usually tells me everything, but I guess this wasn’t worth telling me about when he first started seeing her. Did you know that Hongjoong didn’t find out until the party, either?”

“Woah… Even his own roommate didn’t know? Why do you think he was keeping her such a secret?”

“I don’t know, and I wish he still did. The group could’ve done without her,” Gyuri bit out.

Just as quickly as their drinks arrived, their drinks disappeared, and the girls were nowhere near drunk. Due to the fact that they dressed up, though, men at the bar did buy them drinks, and after confirming that the drinks were safe, they graciously accepted. When Gyuri got drunk, she got affectionate and sad; when Iseul got drunk, she got angry and aggressively honest. The two were nearing their drunk selves, which is probably what prompted Iseul to declare, “You’ve been having sex lately.”

Gyuri, who was mid-sip, choked on her drink. Now she understood why Iseul hated that she kept doing this because she could feel the alcohol burn her throat in an unusual way. Gyuri coughed and hacked as Iseul then bombarded her with questions.

“Who have you been sleeping with? Do I know him? Are you dating him, or are you just hooking up with him, or are you hooking up with multiple men?

“Who said anything about me having sex?” Gyuri tried to deflect.

“Bitch, don’t lie to me. I can literally hear you in the bedroom sometimes,” Iseul glared at Gyuri.

Well, fuck. Gyuri had no choice to be honest, but she was not going to be completely honest. She wasn’t that drunk. “Okay, then one question at a time, please.”

“How many guys?”

“Just one.”

“Hookup or relationship?”

“Hookups.”

“Friends with benefits?”

“Yeah.”

“Do I know this friend?”

With all of her heart, Gyuri prayed that Iseul would not make her answer that question. She really didn’t want to say anything because if she said yes, then Iseul would sit there and harass her until she figured out who the hell it was she was sleeping with. Luckily, she didn’t have to come up with an excuse or lie because Iseul’s phone rang— the ringtone was Perfect World from The Emperor’s New Groove.

“Your fucking ringtone for him is the literal movie about llamas?!” Gyuri nearly choked on her drink again.

Iseul held a finger to Gyuri’s lips as she answered the phone. She sighed deeply and barked into the phone, “Don’t fucking touch anything! I’m on my way.”

The bartender brought Iseul’s check to her as she got ready to leave the bar. As she signed the receipt, Gyuri asked, “What did he do?”

“He fucked with some of the equipment, so now I have to go down there and help him fix everything before our experiment starts.”

“Don’t go to jail for murdering him,” Gyuri waved her friend goodbye. She remained at the bar. There was nothing else she really had to do that day, so she didn’t want to call it a night yet. It was still early in the evening for a college student. Ultimately, she pulled out her own phone and sent out a text, hoping that he would read it and come join her.

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1024UB tag list: @dalsuwaha @eyeryis @choisanswifexo @haebaragisworld @dazzlingstarrs @hongjoongswifefr @yjpumas

network: @cromernet

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scribble-dee-vee · 1 month

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Happy STS! Which of your characters do you think would be most popular among cosplayers? If you had to pick one of your OCs to cosplay, who would it be?

Oh heck yea! Thanks for the ask; I lowkey forgot that STS was a thing

So, I loooove cosplay as an art form/means of having fun! I used to do it more when I was younger, and I still dress up for cons/fan themed events. I also follow a lot of cosplay content online. I must admit that I think about the cosplay-ability of my characters a LOT. Like, every author wants a screen adaptation/a fully VA'd audiobook/whatever, but I specifically want silly creative ppl on the internet to dress up as my lads!!

That being said, I have many opinions on this front.

Taking a broad look at the Heart of Lead universe, I think it would offer a lot of different options to cosplayers. I could see the extended cast catering to people of all skill levels and interests, at least in terms of character design. You got regular-ass humans with one or two defining physical traits (although someone could always go in for more detail, because of the Victorian-fantasy clothes)! You also got characters with A.) complicated armor/uniforms/gowns, B.) wings/fangs/assorted fantastical traits, and C.) like,,, props?? Like there is a very large, somewhat evil sentient sword in this universe, and I would die happy if someone made their own for cosplay purposes. I would DIE.

All that in mind, here are the characters I think would be the most popular to cosplay, based on my observations of present-day cosplay communities online. I've given all them "most ___" awards, for funsies.

Dale Porter – most popular. No contest whatsoever. Sarcastic, evil, conventionally attractive white man. People love to cosplay characters with this profile; it's inescapable, and somewhat obnoxious. He's also fairly easy to cosplay, I would argue, as long as u got a white wig. (I would not personally cosplay him. He is my pookie but he can go ROT.)

Rosalind Lake – most sexy. If you want to wear an ostentatious dress and look hot in a femme way, here ya go. She's not the most important character, but her look is distinctive and fun. (I would definitely cosplay Rosalind.)

Wren Dorian – most steampunk. Listen, if you love steampunk/gaslamp fantasy/cabaret rock aesthetics, she is your GIRL. Big curly hair, big boots, massive belt full of tools, potentially goggles if you're feeling really fancy. Wren also gets some interesting design variations throughout the series that make her even cooler. (I would cosplay Wren. I have closet-cosplayed her before.)

Nicolas – most edgy. At least, that's how I think people would cosplay him. He wears a black trench coat and fingerless gloves for like half of the series; he has emo boy hair; he lowkey looks like Dream of the Endless. I'm not going to spoil his magical abilities, which make him EVEN EDGIER, but those exist, and they also impact his physical appearance. He's a sweetie boy baby who cries a whole lot, but he LOOKS very cool to one's inner 13-year-old. (I would cosplay Nicolas, and I have closet-cosplayed him before!)

Vesper – most fantasy. They're a faerie. He has wings. Their magic turns their eyes and fingers black. He wears sickass gender-nonconforming outfits, including such articles as capes and tiaras. If I was actually going to pour tens of hours into creating a cosplay from the HoL universe, I would 100% cosplay Vesper. They look cool as hell. (Also, fun personality – he's very outgoing and sweet!)

I'll leave it there for now, but I genuinely have SO many more opinions about HoL cosplay potentiality. There are options for the ppl who only cosplay evil dilfs,,,, for ppl who like to play princess dress-up,,,,, for ppl who incorporate gore and horror elements into their cosplays,,,,, we've got it all!!

(Now to get about FINISHING and PUBLISHING these books, so ppl can feasibly do this. Lmao.)

#writeblr #writing #veespeaks #my ocs #cosplay #sts #thanks for the ask!#this was so fun #reminding myself to send STS asks to the moots next weekend #I'm glad this is still a thing ppl do

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kindheart525 · 5 months

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Triple Threat had thrown herself all in to her project on her idol, more than she’d ever thrown herself into a school project, even though she’d always given everything her all. She’d always looked up to Sugar Shaker but the more she learned about her the more she loved her!

Her mother, Sweetie Belle, noticed how engrossed in her project she was, looking over her shoulder after coming into her room to pick up some laundry.

“Whatcha working on, TT? Is there another musical we need to buy tickets for?”

TT was a little bothered by her mom interrupting her train of thought, but she was always excited to share her passions anyway so she smiled brightly.

“There will be but this isn’t it! We’re doing a project on our biggest idols in theater and I’m doing mine on Sugar Shaker!”

“Ooh fun! She’s the pony from Manespray, right? You always loved that musical. She’s talented too, a mare after my own heart.”

Sweetie hummed a few notes from one of TT’s favorite songs, perfectly on-key but TT rolled her eyes anyway. Moms were embarrassing like that.

“Not only that, but she’s fat! Just like me! It was really hard for her to get a job because of it, but she ended up originating the lead role in one of Bridleway’s best shows! Bridleway needs more ponies like her.”

“True, not everypony can make it in the industry so you’re super lucky if you do!”

Sweetie remarked, seeming to get it at first until the next thing she said.

“I was lucky I still got to continue my music career after all the extra weight I’ve put on!”

She stretched out, showing TT her belly which really had only a little bit of weight on it. Way less than what TT had.

TT couldn’t believe what she was hearing! Her mom wasn’t fat at all, she had no place to make any sort of judgement about what ponies like her were experiencing! She buried her face in her hooves out of frustration at how dense her mom was being.

“Mom...you’re not...”

“It’s nothing to worry about, really. As long as you can sing and dance you’ll have no problem getting a job!”

Sweetie ruffled her daughter’s mane before picking up her laundry basket and sauntering out of her room.

“I’ll leave you to work now. Good luck on your project honey!”

But Triple Threat couldn’t get back into the zone after that conversation. Her mom didn’t get it at all. Bridleway was a cutthroat industry, not for those who weren’t prepared to work tirelessly at it. Talent alone didn’t guarantee anything, especially if you weren’t conventionally attractive. Triple Threat knew this.

But she was still an optimist at heart, and she hoped that if she did put in whatever extra work she needed that she could become a star too.

~~~~~~~~~~

Previous: Big and Beautiful Next: Voyage

Sweetie Belle’s cutie mark by Dropple-RD

#KindsArt #auraverse #bridleway #triple threat #sweetie belle #story piece #next generation #my little pony #mlp fim #mlp g4 #fatphobia #tw fatphobia

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spinningbuster98 · 10 months

Text

youtube

Picking Burn Rooster's stage first is certainly an unpopular choice but in order to get the armor parts I want as soon as possible without backtracking it's necessary.

And honestly? I actually don't mind this level

Yeah it's an autoscroller, but unlike Duff McWhalen's stage in X5 it's a FAST autoscroller where you have to make split second decisions and platforming in order to stay alive.

Yeah it can get irritating, and that last section after you've beaten the boss is wholly unnecessary, but I can't call it boring

The middle part is a bit eh, mostly because the camera really doesn't help you to see incoming spikes as you're climbing or sliding down but overall I think it's a decent level!

Earthrock Trilobyte's stage is fine, although a bit too simple in structure. It's actually this game's main farming spot for currency,a s that robot drops Metals every time you shoot it.

Gigabolt Man O' War is the first of this game's 2 Ride Chaser levels and it's....eh?

Its main issue is that it's a bit messy in design and on your first playthrough you'll probably not even know what it is you're even supposed to do.

In reality though you can end this stage in less than a minute by constantly boosting, collecting energy capsules to keep your boost meter full and shooting at Gigabolt as much as possible. So not a particularily good level but at least you can get it done very quickly

Gameplay wise X is the same as always, and I'll talk about his armor system at a later time

Axl has seen an enormous improvement: now not only does he have a rapid fire by default but he can also shoot in multiple directions.

His hover has also been improved, now he stays locked in place in midair for a bit whenever you jump and shoot which really helps with positioning

His rapid fire is also the best and safest way to knock away enemy barriers

His copy shot is back as well and....it's still far from the best thing in the world but at least it's been given a couple of cool niche uses which I'll show in the next video

Zero is also much better than in X7...but he has issues

I don't know whether it's his animations being a bit slower or maybe enemies' hitboxes being larger but I always get hit when trying to fight enemies as Zero, much more than in previous games (except X7).

I think part of the reason is the controls: X8 has good controls overall but they generally feel a bit...looser than previously? Like the characters have much less weight to their jumps which, coupled with the taller character models, makes precise positioning trickier, with precise positioning being key to Zero's playstyle

I'm not saying he's bad here, just that he's my least favorite of the 3 starting off

Keywords: starting off

If you're good at exploring you can get a certain something for Zero which completely turns all these issues on their heads. You'll see

So X8 has some new designs! And they tend to be pretty devisive between fans

Personally I think that the designs themelves are fine enough, they're generally pretty minimal with the characters just looking slimmer overall. Some fans like to se this as a connection to the Zero series, as a way of showing that technology is starting to get closer to that of that series. It's a nice thought but as far as I'm aware the only reasoning behind these designs that's ever been is that they wanted the characters to look somewhat like action figures, maybe in order to make them easier to animate in-game.

I think the main issue is the artstyle, the way the characters' faces and eyes are drawn looks a bit...off? Like it's clearly trying to be the usual X series artstyle while also being different

I guess that Alia's got the most substantial redesign, with loose and longer hair (which is a reference to a flashback scene of her in X6) and....well bigger boobs.

Not as big as Layer's though XD. Ok look, far be it for me to criticise a female character for looking conventionally attractive but I...kinda wanna know what was the thought process behind those underboobs XD

I mean I guess the design is fine on its own, but when you consider that Layer is supposed to be this super serious and professional navigator who is also very shy and timid...I dunno I get the impression that the design and characterization came from two completely different places if you catch my drift?

...aw who am I kidding this was probably the artist's little fetish

Also yeah Axl is a prototype for these New Generation Reploids

You might have missed that and I don't blame you

Axl's origins were never touched upon in X7

X8 just decides to drop this info in a way that the characters, Axl included, always knew about this matter of factly

No explanation for why Axl was on his own in X7 before meeting Red of for why he wasn't even aware of his powers' origins in that game

I guess it was all resolved off screen between games?

I guess they probably didn't wanna dwell too much on X7's leftovers? But at the same time by making Axl a Prototype for these new villains, and especially due to how this game ends, he should be pretty damn important and yet the plot doesn't really focus on him in any way even when that hanging plot point from X7 gave them the perfect excuse to do so.

Mah

#mega man #mega man x8 #my gameplay #Youtube

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dungeons-and-dragon-age · 2 years

Note

For the Rank Your OC ask meme: 😈 or 🔥 for your Dragon Age OCs? (I am inviting you to do as many OCs as you wish!)👋🥰

[ask game]

Thank you for the ask!! And for enabling me bc i am gonna do both for all my main six kiddos because i have no self control <3

😈 How chaotic are their morals?

9/10 June - June is not a moral person, she does not really have any specific moral standards that aren't flexible in some way or another

6/10 Kala - Technically she does have a a good sense of morals, but she's not above disregarding them if need be. They're a good thing to have but sometimes upholding them is simply not sustainable

5/10 Neira - Ok i wasn't exactly sure where to but her because it's like. She has very very strong principles that she makes a point of following as best she can, even if breaking them would be the more moral thing to do. And it's a whole Thing with her and talking about it now would take ages lol but i think putting her in the middle here fits

4/10 Liam - He does not have any big fancy moral code that he follows but he has principles and believes in common sense and basic human decency, which he does stand up for even if he kind of does not want to at times

2/10 Lilian - Has a very strong sense of morality that does not waver easily and that she holds on to very firmly, however she can get uh. too emotionally invested in things so that her judgement in this regard is very subjective

2/10 Ari - Has a strong moral code that he tries his best to follow, more or less successfully. If this code does or doesn't get warped is a different question though

🔥 And obviously how hot are they, in your opinion and/or the opinions of other characters?

10/10 Lilian - Tall, almost lanky but the muscle makes up for it, sharp features, and she's got presence, which i think adds up to make her appear pretty conventionally hot. Also she knows she's hot which just amplifies the effect lol.

9/10 Liam - Overall I think he's very average but in an attractive way? Like, athletic but soft around the edges, doesn't have a strong presence like Lilian but a kinda casual charisma that makes him feel easily approachable (well ok that depends but still), and kind eyes. Ngl he is in part only this high bc the crew canonically has the hots for Hawke and i kind of love that lmao

8/10 Ari - Ari's large and well built in a dad bod way, has a strong face, he gets some minus points because he's unintentionally (ok sometimes intentionally) intimidating, but he still manages to have that charismatic gentleman charm from how he talks and carries himself. He's very deliberate abt his image tho

6/10 Kala - She's got the muscle and the fat and the hair and she's made several party members go 😳 that one time she lifted a bear carcass without batting an eye. However she exudes an incredibly intimidating and unapproachable aura that kind of negates everything else she has going for her oops. Note though that this is intentional on her part.

5/10 June - Attractive but has been blursed with a baby face that makes a lot of people's first impression be "cute" rater than "sexy" despite her body type, so she has to put in some effort to make people notice her as hot. And even disregarding that her uhh tendency for bratty behaviour especially at the start of the game does not exactl help her case, i feel like her intense energy is kind of a hit or miss.

3/10 Neira - She's scrawny and bony but she does have a sincere face and big dark doe eyes and idk she's not unattractive but just. Not the kind people usually perceive as hot? Maybe it's just cos her relationship with sexuality is very similar to my own tho that it feels weird to think about people finding her hot hdlsajlslads.

#this made me notice that i tend to have characters with a very different relationship with morals and morality #rather than characters with v flexible morals x'D #also disclaimer about the hotness ranking #i based this on a combo of comments i got from other ppl and my estimation of how they'd be perceived in universe dlahdflkasjdfs #ppl who are reading the tags! first of all hi and also feel free to confirm or refute my judgement lmao #but ty again! this was fun :)#oc: neira surana #oc: kalagna brosca #oc: liam hawke #oc: lilian hawke #oc: june trevelyan #oc: ari adaar #my ocs #oc ask game/ my ocs

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yuikomorii · 2 years

Note

Am I the only one who genuinely can’t find Yui attractive with or without the hair clip?Compared to other heroines, she looks very plain and it feels as if they aimed to make her like that in order to show how handsome the brothers are. The only thing that flatters her is the hair ,her face is a big 5/10 ’cause it got nothing special or anything like that.

//I know that’s your opinion and I respect it but from my point of view,she is actually attractive in her own way.

I’m going to be honest,she’s way prettier in the anime than she is in the game,since she truly looks plain there but I don’t really mind it lol. She might not have any amazing features but I actually like that because she’s described as an average girl and there’s nothing wrong with it.You can look like that yet still be considered cute by some people.

I was used to hearing descriptions such as “*inserts heroine name*was the most beautiful girl in the whole region” or “*inserts heroine name* was known for her beauty so everyone wanted to marry her” and that’s why it’s refreshing finally having a heroine,whose looks don’t matter at all but what’s on the inside does.

Speaking of the Diaboys,they were obviously designed to be prettier because 1)they’re vampires and 2)they are literally the love interests,they have to bring the most money.

I am aware that she’s not as pretty as other otome heroines,who are conventionally beautiful,but even so,she’s decent and definitely not ugly. I doubt there is any unattractive otome heroine to begin with…I mean,they have to be appealing to the audience too,otherwise not many people would buy the games.

To sum it up,beauty is in the eye of the beholder.I’m not going to force anyone to like the way Yui looks if that’s not their cup of tea.It simply depends on individual preferences.

Also, fun fact,her hair was actually what made her design special according to Satoi’s interview,because she drew it fluffy and with side bangs,which was something rare when it came to heroines.

#admin #(me🤝Yui = basic white girls)

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yougotthatbilly · 3 years

Text

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

#johnny seo scenarios #johnny seo scenario #johnny seo smut #nct scenarios #nct scenario #nct smut #lets not talk abt the ending i needed to end this monster

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avatarvyakara · 2 years

Text

So, remember the bit in this story where Pepa mentions Diego Gonzales? Well…

106. Rayo

(nm) beam, ray, bolt of lightning

“You shouldn’t be here,” says Pepa.

Félix stills, and slumps, and sighs. “...I wanted to check on you.”

“I’m checked on. You can go.”

“...do you want me to go?”

Sixteen-year-old Pepa turns around to face her best friend. At least, he’s supposed to be her best friend. He probably doesn't want to be anymore, after today.

…and there’s only care in those eyes. No disgust. No shame.

And something inside her breaks, and the grey clouds that surround this forested mountain (they call it La Esmeralda, the Emerald Hill, because the San Ambrosians are an unimaginative bunch like that) burst into tears at the same time she does.

...why isn’t she getting wet?

She looks up at the umbrella Félix is holding over her head. Which he himself is not under.

“¡Ay, e-estúpido! Y-you’re gonna get all wet—”

“And that doesn’t matter one teeny tiny bit,” says her friend, smiling through the downpour. “Not to me, or to Julieta, or to Bruno.”

“...it mattered to him, though.”

“And he’s an idiot.”

“Félix!”

“What? He is, though.”

“Diego is not an idiot. We just didn’t work out well on a couple of things.”

Félix gives her a rather deadpan look.

"Look, if you're going to come up here to tell me off—"

"Pepa." For the first time, Félix looks properly annoyed. "Why would I come all the way up here just to tell you off?"

"Oh, I don't know! Take your pick! The fact that I couldn't hold onto a boyfriend for more than about five weeks? That he was apparently only dating me for the thrill of it?"

"Those aren't your fault."

"That he wanted to…you know…and I…I mean I didn't…"

"No. You didn't."

He believes that. He believes her.

"Mamá doesn't believe that."

Because Diego had decided to brag nonetheless, and they'd gone far enough that Pepa felt uncomfortably like it was a lie that they hadn't. And feeling like she was lying led to fog, and fog led to Mamá being furious, and Mamá being furious meant Pepa storming, literally storming, down to the village, in tears and a blind rage—

"She does. She just got worried about you." Annoyingly enough Félix probably gets on with her mother better than Pepa does.

"Well then how about the fact that I struck him with lightning when he broke up with me for shouting at him?"

Félix actually looks genuinely angry now. "That was too good for him."

"Are you missing the point? I struck him with lightning! Big lighting!" She waves her arms for effect. She also strikes a nearby tree for effect, completely without intending to. The tree splits in half.

To his credit, Félix doesn't so much as flinch.

"Julieta healed him—"

"But I still did it, Félix! I could have punched him and that would have been okay because women can punch men, even if that's insane, but no, I had to give him third-degree burns or whatever the heck Bruno calls them when he's in a trance! I'm a threat, Félix!" And now she's crying again in earnest, and the storms are responding in kind. "I could have killed him! And all because of this stupid gift! Because I was stupid enough to want to make Mamá happy!"

Happy because Pepa had found a boyfriend in the most conventionally attractive boy in town? Possible. Happy because her daughter could take her smile and plaster it all over the sky again, wasn't scaring people with her storms? Also possible. Happy because Pepa had finally learned not to act out, to keep to herself and be guarded and grateful like Juli and Bruno? Definitely possible. And none of it worked.

Pepa can't heal the past, or fix the future. All she can do is make the here-and-now harder for everyone around her.

She's not sure how long it is, before she comes back to something approaching conscious, in-the-moment thought, but when she does it's to find herself getting wet. That's the second thing she notices. The first thing she notices is her best friend, who dropped the umbrella, holding her close and murmuring something soothing. It sounds like a nursery rhyme. It actually sounds like "Sol, Solecito", which Mamá used to sing to her. But it's a little different.

Nube, nubita,

Ay, ¿cóm' eres tan bonita?

N' esconda tu cara,

Tu alm' es tan clara.

It's a strange little song, thinks Pepa to herself, as they sit together in the rain. Clouds can't be beautiful.

(Once they could. Once upon a time. When clear skies were just skies.)

But she doesn't want to bring this up, and it feels so safe here.

"Tu eres el cielo, Pepa," he whispers to her, and that feels so close to him saying mi cielo but something holds him back and they can both tell. "You are not a threat. You are not this storm. You are everything in this sky, and more. Not because of your gift. Because of who you are."

"Félix, I'm still…I'm still a monster. I still get flashes of temper. I still have this power. I used it."

"You did. That's true. But you're not a monster. You have these powers. The powers aren't you, they're just part of you. Feelings aren't a problem, Pepa. Not noticing what they do to others? Maybe. But that happens to everyone, and they learn, and they know not to do it. You know that it can hurt people, and that you can find other ways of showing that you're angry that don't mean hiding behind the sun. So you'll learn." He says it as if it's as certain as sunrise.

"And what if I can't?"

He shrugs. He's a little shorter than her now, and she can feel his arms move as his shoulders rise and fall.

"You will. You're Pepa." Not Pepa Madrigal, right now. Just Pepa. "And if you need some help with that, you've got people who wouldn't change any part of you to help you."

"Even the thrill?"

"Anyone who needs a storm—or even that—to feel a thrill around you is about as sensitive as a log. And about as romantic."

She giggles a little despite herself.

Pepa Madrigal falls in love again, just a little, that day. (But she won't tell him. Not just yet. When the time is right.)

(As it turns out that's another five years away but never mind, Juli, who's telling this story, eh?)

Félix coughs a little awkwardly. "So, uh, you know how Julieta healed his burns?"

She nods, and chokes back a sob.

"…I may have added an injury of my own. After she was done."

"…Félix. What did you do?"

"Let's just say he probably won't look quite as handsome for a while."

"Félix Castillo Medina so help me I am going to say something hypocritical about now so you'd better be ready for it!"

He laughs. It rumbles like thunder.

(How she's missed being happy in the thunder.)

P.S. I'm really hoping my Spanish isn't that bad…

#encanto #encanto 2021 #disney encanto #pepa madrigal #felix madrigal #pepa x felix #felix x pepa #I honestly just really like these two #fanfic #one shot collection #tiles on the roof #teenage love #nursery rhymes

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gladerscake · 3 years

Text

No One Better

(Gally x Reader)

Hope you have some time, because this one’s large and in charge (of the feels, that is). Huge thanks to all the lovely people who encourage me to keep writing. Enjoy!

A few beads of sweat rolled down your temple, your bottom lip beginning to sting from how hard you were biting down on it, your brows furrowed in intense concentration, all while you were struggling to finally saw through this one stupid chunk of wood. It was a particularly thick one - you’ve been at it for almost ten minutes, with frustratingly minimal results. The muscles of your right arm were positively aching, pleading for you to drop the shucking saw and just ask somebody for help.

However, your resolve was stronger than your protesting muscles. You could do this. You didn’t need help.

You gave yourself a minute to rest before drawing in a deep, determined breath, and getting right back to it. You couldn’t believe it - will all this effort, you’d only managed to saw through half of it, thus far. Gally always made it look so easy...

“Having a bit of trouble there, baby?”

Your mouth immediately curled in a little grin at the deep sound of his voice. Gally’s voice. As if on cue, just when you were beginning to think about him.

The Keeper of the Builders, who you now proudly called your boyfriend, seemed to have a sixth sense for those things. To anything that had to do with you, really.

It’s been a bit over a week, since you two had made the fateful transition from close friends to something much, much more thrilling. And even though it hasn’t been that long since the change of your relationship’s nature, you could say, without question or a shadow of a doubt, that you’ve never felt happier.

The way Gally treated you on the daily, with such gentleness, care, and endless affection, made your heart bloom with delight at his mere presence. You couldn’t say you had been shocked by his manner - he’s always been kind to you, since the moment you two have met. But seeing this side of him, the loving and warm side, the one nobody else but you got to see, was a gift in itself. You believed you were immensely lucky that Gally returned your feelings and wanted you by his side, and you couldn’t wish for someone better. To you, there was no one better - simple as that.

As of this moment, you chose to bite back a cheeky remark in response to Gally’s slightly teasing question. Instead, you straightened out your posture, allowing your grin to grow as you loosened your death-grip on the saw handle and turned to face him.

“Me? Not at all! What gave you that impression?” You chirped as Gally chuckled, deeply, taking a big step closer to you. His striking bluish-green eyes peered down at your delicate features, an amused grin playing at the corners of his mouth. God, you could never get used to how attractive he was to you...

“You’re kidding, right? I could hear your grunts all the way from the Deadheads.” He glanced at the saw in your hand, trailing his gaze to the chunk of wood and your underwhelming progress, and swiftly figured out what was causing his girl such distress.

You playfully rolled your eyes at his comment “Well, not everyone is a big hunk of muscle like you, my Keeper.”

Gally tried to control the blush he instantly knew was about to paint his cheeks. ‘My Keeper’. You’ve been calling him that often since you two became a couple, and he would be lying if he said he didn’t absolutely love it. It almost always distracted him from whatever he was doing or talking about, but he didn’t mind. He definitely didn’t want you to stop.

Nonetheless, he kept his composure and cleared his throat, grinning down at you “You flatter me, baby. But you’re not wrong.”

You released a light-hearted laugh as he quickly scooted behind you. “Here, let me help.”

You felt a familiar warmth spreading through your body and circling your abdomen as Gally reached around you, his powerful torso nearly pressing against your back, his calloused hand enclosing around your smaller fingers on the handle, in order to guide your movements. Your pulse was already beginning to quicken, your face gradually getting hotter, as you struggled to ignore the effect his closeness was having on you.

“T-Thanks...”

Gally pressed a sweet peck to your cheek as he tightened his grip “Mm-hm. Now, shoulder up...” He instructed, softly, his breath slightly tickling your ear. You did as told. “Yep, just like that. Now lock your elbow. Your arm’s a little wobbly - that’s why it’s taking so much out of you.” Again, you did as he said, doing your earnest to focus on the task at hand, and not on your boyfriend’s low, breathy voice in your ear, or the heat of his strong body, or the way his arms felt around you...

“Like that?” You inquired, timidly, glancing up at his freckled face.

“Exactly. Now, drag it back and forth, and don’t squeeze the handle too hard - you’re just wasting energy that way.”

You took a deep breath and proceeded sawing through the wood, with Gally’s help, as he kept a firm grip on your hand. To your surprise and relief, it really did feel a lot easier, now that you were no longer straining your muscles in all the wrong ways, and in a matter of minutes, the sawed-off piece fell to the ground with a soundly “thump”.

You let out a victorious laugh, causing Gally to chuckle at your reaction. He thought it was entirely too cute.

“Finally! I did it!” You beamed at your boyfriend as he pried the handle out of your hand, placing the saw on the work table before interlacing his fingers with your own.

“You sure did. Next time, if you’re struggling with something, just come get me, okay? There’s nothing wrong with asking for help.” He smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

You closed your eyes, blissfully, giving him a short nod of agreement. “Fine, fine, if you insist...” You mumbled, the urge to kiss him coating your senses and pulling you closer into him. You didn’t fight it. Standing up on your tippy-toes, your linked your arms around his neck and leaned in, pressing your soft lips against his, your ears basking in Gally’s deep hum of satisfaction. His hands wasted no time gripping your waist as he kissed you deeper, his lips moving so seamlessly and tantalizingly against your own, your mind beginning to swim at the sensation.

Despite not wanting to break the kiss, the distant sounds of other gladers working and chattering forced you to stay aware of your surroundings as you reluctantly pulled away from Gally’s lips with a sweet final peck. The builder grinned, giving your waist a languid squeeze before delivering you a wink that almost made your knees buckle.

“As much as it kills me, I gotta get back to work, baby.” He feigned a sneer as you chuckled, nodding in compliance and unwinding your arms from around his neck. You stepped back, already missing his closeness and warmth.

“Same here. Meet you at dinner?”

“You’d better!” Gally smiled, genuinely, before turning on his heels and departing to his task of fixing the Med Hut’s leaky roof.

-later that day-

“Alright, boys, let’s wrap this up. We’ll get back to it first thing tomorrow.” Gally clapped a couple of his builders on their backs - his way of letting them know they had done a good job without actually having to say it. He wasn’t big on dishing out praise and compliments, unless it came to you.

“Whatever you say, boss!” Scott, one of his most capable builders, quipped as he climbed down from the roof, fist-bumping a couple of his friends while they stretched their sore muscles.

Gally huffed to himself before going to pick up his instruments, his tall form disappearing from the guys’ line of vision.

As soon as the Keeper appeared to be gone, Scott’s expression promptly melted from cool to sour, a hint of spite flashing through his eyes.

“Looks like someone’s in a hurry to get back to his girlfriend.” He deliberately over enunciated the last word, frowning, as if just the thought of it was too ridiculous to occur.

Another builder, Jack, cocked a questioning brow at his friend “Oh? Jealous much?”

Scott rolled his eyes in response “I just don’t get it! How did that even happen? Why him? She had like forty shanks to choose from, and she went for him?”

Jack had to snicker at the guy’s plain and obvious jealousy, the sight of it being thoroughly entertaining. “Hey, easy, man! Clearly she sees something we can’t. She’s made her choice - deal with it.”

“Yeah, but did she have to pick the ugliest one? I mean, honestly, if it were someone like Minho, or Ben, or hell, even Newt, I’d sort of get it, but...”

Gally scoffed, bitterly, rejecting the idea of listening to the rest of that lovely conversation. Did they really think he couldn’t hear them? He’s only been a few feet away this whole time, for shuck’s sake. His features darkened, his hands clenching into fists. He knew it was stupid to let something like that get to him - obviously it was nothing more than jealous ramblings of some dumb shank, who would most likely wet himself if he knew Gally had heard him.

Still, as much as he despised to admit it... It stung, hearing that. Mostly because, deep down, some obnoxiously self-deprecating part of him, agreed with Scott’s words.

Gally had never really given much thought to his looks. That is, until you came along. As his feelings for you grew, so did his insecurity. He knew he wasn’t conventionally “hot”. True, he was one of the tallest guys in the glade, and he assumed he had a nice body, thanks to his job as a builder, so he at least had that going for him. His face, however... Gally didn’t believe it was anything to be considered “handsome”. As opposed to you, who he thought was the most gorgeous thing he’d ever laid eyes on.

He hated this, hated feeling like he didn’t deserve you, hated knowing that you could probably do so much better than him, especially when you weren’t there to reassure him, to tell him otherwise and kiss away his every troubled thought.

Gally growled, internally, his jaw tensing and his knuckles turning white. No, he needed to snap out of it. What the hell? You wanted him. You chose him, you were with him, you were his. He couldn’t let his faith in your devotion to him crumble, just because some dumbass had opened his big resentful mouth.

With an exasperated grunt, Gally stalked off to meet you for dinner, as promised. He was sure that as soon he saw your face, he would forget all about what had just happened. He hoped gazing into your glimmering eyes would be enough to hush every last unwelcome thought. Yet, as hopeful as he was for that, the tension in his broad shoulders remained, as if something heavy was weighing down on him, with very little he could do about it.

-later-

Something deep within you was telling you something wasn’t right. You felt a nagging sting of worry pinching at your heart as you made your way back to Gally’s hut, that you and him now shared.

You couldn’t help but sense that Gally had seemed a bit... off, all throughout dinner. The soft smiles he’d sent your way didn’t reach his eyes. His usually bright bluish-green eyes had been tinged with an underlying bleakness, and you had no clue where it was coming from. You’d tried to ask him about it, but the only response you got was a mumbled “It’s nothing” and a hurried kiss on your cheek.

You didn’t like it. You knew Gally so well by now - you could tell when something was bothering him. You cared about him, deeply, and so, seeing him so obviously anxious about something and not telling you what it was, put you in a bothered state as well.

Whatever it was, you needed to get it out of him. Gally was your boyfriend, and a pretty amazing one at that. If there was anything at all that you could do to help him deal with what was plaguing mind, you would do it, over and over again, if you had to.

You pushed the door open and entered the hut, a loving smile curling your lips as your eyes fell upon Gally. The builder was sitting on the bed, busily scribbling something in his journal, his knit brows and slightly clenched jaw painting his face with a look of pure concentration. Probably sketching in some alterations for the Med Hut expansion. You released a muted giggle, thinking his expression was entirely cute.

Gally immediately looked up at the sound that escaped you, his smile reflecting your own, his deeply focused gaze softening the second it landed on you “Almost bed time, huh?”

“Yes, indeed.” You delivered a little grin as you shut the door behind you and approached him, your delicate hands landing on his shoulders with a pleasant squeeze “And you’re still not done working?” You eyed the journal in Gally’s hands.

He responded with a scratchy chuckle “Perks of being a keeper, baby - I’m never done.” He feigned a deep sigh that made you giggle once more, but nonetheless, placed the journal aside, wanting to give you his full attention.

The only instances where you two got to be truly alone with one another were early in the morning and right before bed, so Gally cherished these moments with you. He would spend every second of every day alone with you if he could, but for the time being, he’d take what ever little scraps of time he could get.

“Well, I’m here now, so... Maybe you’re done, after all?” You smiled, your hands kneading his shoulders in a relaxing manner, feeling his firm muscles slowly release built-up tension under your touch.

Gally grunted, deep in his throat, as his own hands took a hold of your waist, pulling you closer in a not-so subtle motion.

“I sure as hell am, now...” The deep, slightly raspy tone of his voice made you weak in ways you hadn’t imagined before, but you were far from complaining.

With a playful smirk, Gally suddenly fell back on the bed, and you yelped in surprise as with one simple, yet effective tug, he brought you down with, causing you to topple onto him.

“Gally!” You attempted to scold, lightly slapping his chest, but the laughter bubbling from within you, as well as the rising pink hue to your cheeks, let him know how you truly felt about it.

“Aww! Sorry, is this too much?” He asked, almost rhetorically, a cheeky glint dancing in his eyes.

The blush adorning your cheeks only grew as you gazed down at him in pure fascination. Sometimes you still couldn’t believe Gally was yours, that you got to see the side of him everyone else was blind to. You shook your head, leaning down to plant an amorous kiss on his plump lips, as he took no time melting into it with a low-pitched hum. His large hands, warm and eager, gripped your waist tighter as he shifted you both up the bed, until the back of his head almost knocked against the makeshift wooden frame. You whimpered, softly, against his mouth before breaking the kiss. You witnessed, with a tinge on satisfaction, that his freckle-littered cheeks were now even redder than your own, his breath escaping through his parted lips as he stared at you like you were something out of this world.

Gally felt like he could never get enough of you. Your closeness had his heart nearly beating out of his chest, and the intoxicating sensation of your lips on his sent him reeling with more need than he knew what to do with. However, as he gazed at you, taking in every detail of your breathtaking features, his mind involuntarily called back to his inner turmoil, a couple hours prior. The spark in his eyes dulled, the corner of his lips twitching with a barely-noticeable frown as he was pulled back into that loathsome state of self-doubt he’d tried so hard to fight against.

The rapid change in his expression, as minimal as it was, did not evade your notice. In a blink of an eye, your dream-like state morphed to concern as you reached up a hand to cup his warm cheek “Hey... Gally, what’s wrong?”

He huffed a light puff of air, tilting his head to nuzzle his face into your cupped hand, the small gesture nearly making you swoon.

“It’s nothing. Stupid. Don’t worry about it, baby.” Gally mumbled, the response identical to the one you’d received at dinner.

Well, that wasn’t going to be good enough this time. You frowned in sympathy “Yeah, that’s what you said earlier, too. I didn’t believe it then, and I don’t believe it now.”

Gally relinquished a hushed groan, evidently reluctant to share what was on his mind, but all you wanted was for him to know that there was nothing in the world he couldn’t talk to you about. You leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to the exasperated crease on his forehead, momentarily feeling it smoothen out under your lips.

“Come on... please? I can’t go to sleep if I know something’s bothering you.”

Gally sighed, deeply, his intent gaze meeting your own, and once again you were met with the somber pool of dejection that you had been so quick to spot.

To say he was hesitant to discuss it would be an understatement, but the plea in your gaze and soft voice was impossible for him to ignore. There probably wasn’t a single thing you couldn’t get out of him.

With a defeated grunt, Gally reached a hand up to carefully thread his calloused fingers through your silky hair, his voice dipping an octave lower as he finally spoke “Sometimes it just doesn’t feel like I’m good enough for you, Y/N.”

Your breath hitched at the mere sound of those words leaving his mouth. You felt a ferocious urge to stop him right then and there, yet... you didn’t. No, you couldn’t interrupt. You asked for this, for his honesty, so now he was giving you exactly that. You had to let him finish.

“I mean... You could’ve had anyone. Absolutely shuckin’ anyone, but for a reason I still don’t fully understand, you’ve picked me.” Gally bit the inside of his cheek, his rough fingertips turning cold as he let the words fall from his mouth. “I know what people are thinking. ‘What the hell is an amazing, sweet, funny, beautiful girl like you, doing with one of the ugliest shanks here?’. And you know what? I hate it, but they’re not wrong.”

Every sentence shot an icy pain through your heart as you had to bite your bottom lip to physically restrain yourself from shutting him up. You couldn’t stand that Gally was so critical of himself, especially when you saw him as the best thing that’s ever happened to you.

“And please don’t take this the wrong way - I’m not doubting your... feelings for me, and I’m so lucky that they’re even there, it’s just...” He trailed off, briefly, wanting to choose his next words carefully. “It’s a bit of a struggle to understand. Because you deserve the best, and I’m... well, hardly that.”

A short pause. Finally, it sounded like he was finished, and now it was your time to let him know precisely how you felt about all of it.

With a preparatory intake of air, you cupped his face in both hands, making him look nowhere else but at you, your eyes shining with determined empathy. “Gally... I chose you, because it’s always been you. Forty shanks here, and not one of them ever made me feel even a fraction of what you make me feel. I can’t explain why, because it’s not something that has an explanation - I don’t have an alphabetised list of reasons why I fell for you! I just... did. Because of who you are - that’s everything about you. And I don’t know who you’re calling ‘ugly’, because it sure as hell isn’t my boyfriend.” You paused, watching his eyes as he stared at you, mesmerized, without blinking, his mouth falling slightly agape as you could practically hear his heartbeat drumming in his chest. “So... Yeah, I can confidently say, without question, that I’m pretty happy with what I chose.”

After a few seconds of wired silence, Gally finally broke out of his entranced stupor, his voice nearly quivering as he traced a finger down the soft curve of your jaw.

“And what is it, that you chose?”

His touch made the loving warmth within you spread like wildfire, soothing your throbbing heart and coaxing a delicate grin to etch your lips “The best.”

At that, Gally released a short, incredulous huff, but couldn’t find it in himself to question it any further. You were truly a gift to him, a gift he had no idea what he’d done to deserve. In that moment, all the worries he’d had were effectively silenced, pushed away into the farthest, deepest crevices of his mind, not to be heard from again in a long time, if ever. Not a minute more would be wasted caring about anyone else’s opinion on your relationship with him. The only one that mattered was yours, and that’s the one he would hold into, for as long as you’d allow it. For as long as you’d want him.

Gally’s muscular arms wrapped around your frame, pulling you into him, tightly and protectively, as he buried his face in your hair, trying to get you as close as humanly possible, and still feeling like it wasn’t enough.

You responded by nuzzling into the warm crook of his neck, your lips pressing the gentlest of kisses to his sun-kissed skin, the heat of his strong chest soaking into you and shrouding you in an impenetrable sense of comfort and love. His love. The type nothing else could compare to or dare to challenge.

“You know, the day you change your mind will definitely be the most devastating of my life...” Gally whispered, almost inaudibly, the consuming safety of his embrace clouding your senses.

All you could do was breathe a soft chuckle, holding onto him tighter as your lips murmured against his neck “I guess it’s a good thing that day isn’t coming.”

Because in your mind, with all the uncertainties and uneasiness that surrounded the glade, that was the one thing you didn’t have a single doubt about. It was him. Gally. And there was no one better.

Thank you for reading!

Tags: @seldomabsent @obsessivelycapricious @ultraintrovertedgryffindor @maraudersimp @lattsgocaps @magnoliabloomfield @sherbertscarrothead-2 @the-marvel-meme-emporium @abundantxadorations @izzymultifan @willseyebrows @annoyinglythoughtfuldestiny

#the maze runner #tmr gally #gally imagine #tmr #gally x reader #tmr imagine #gally x fem!reader #gladers #gally x you #will poulter #gally #gally x y/n #tmr gally imagine #gally fanfic #tmr fanfic #gally tmr

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ac3id · 4 years

Text

The Artist and His Majesty| 18+

𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒶𝓇𝓉𝒾𝓈𝓉 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓂𝒶𝒿𝑒𝓈𝓉𝓎 0 / 5 | fantasy au.

chapter i , chapter ii

pairings: yandere! emperor! shigaraki x female! reader.

warnings: [series] dubcon, exhibitionism, size difference, degradation, masturbation, bondage, reader is also kind of delusional, death, violence (not on reader). (there are more but i can’t think right now.]

↪ for chapter 0: none !!

summary: you come to the big city in hopes of starting your career as an artist but things take a shocking turn when you’re recruited as the court painter for the royal palace.

↪ for chapter 0: a strange man approaches you, offering to buy your painting to which you oblige. little do you know that it kicks of a series of unfortunate events ending with you being trapped in shigaraki tomura’s clutches forever.

wordcount.

a/n: finally !! i started this series. high-key inspired by these two dresses in my wardrobe and @ana-list‘s this drawing ! seriously it’s literally everything. also thank you once again for proof reading this @the-grimm-writer !

taglist: @shigaraki-is-my-master, @deathmemeiverse, @n4dhii, @bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love, @mstssister, @nereida19, @prince-zukohere [dm to be added/ removed.]

“That’s a beautiful painting,” a rough, scruffy voice calls out, jerking you away from your daydreams. Your grip around the color canvas resting in your arms tightens as you glance behind your shoulder to see a well-built man standing right behind you. He’s tall and a lot older than you, he has short grey hair which falls right before his eyebrows along beautiful, matching grey eyes. A cigar hangs lazily from his lips as he occasionally huffs on it, blowing clouds of smoke out his mouth. He’s dressed in expensive robes, a choice of style only people better off could afford. You can’t help exachaning a covetous glance between his expensive suit and your sloppy, knee-length, light green dress. “Thank you.” you murmur shoving him an appreciative look, hoping he’d leave you alone. When you come to the city to complete your studies in art, you mother, father, family and friends had warned you about men like these. Rich, snobby men who liked to lure in young, naive girls. Whispering praises of how they are the most unique on the planet so they pull their guard down form them to take advantage of the helpless beings.

“Can I take a better look? It’s the Emperor, is it not? Your painting. ” You hesitate before turning back to him. Not a lot of people had seen the King to be. He lived humbly in his castle, trying his best to not indulge in the affairs of the common people. “ Yes,” you hold up the slightly small canvas (courtesy of you being broke the entire week and not being able to save up to buy a bigger canvas). To even get an idea of Shigaraki Tomura, you had to go through many people. Not a lot of people had seen his face, he had always kept it hidden under a mask. No one knew why he did so but the many conspiracy throes suggested it was something to do with his personal grief.

You had heard many stories about him. Some made him look like a spoiled brat with a demeaning, ignorant personality who didn’t care for others and as the rumors said: self destructive habits which lead him to tear the skin of his own neck down whenever he got anxious or frustrated.

Others portrayed him as a strong, confident man and a reliable leader who cared for his comrades. You did not know which one of the two personas brought him your attention but you couldn’t complain. Tomura had caught you under a spell, and despite never meeting him (and knowing full well you never would), you were still ready to sacrifice your life for him. He was your King even before he had taken his crown, to you he looked like a shining bright light ready to enlighten you. To you, he was a god. And as years passed by, he grew from a caterpillar into a cocoon which was ready to burst open as a butterfly into the beautiful, mysterious world. And it was happening today, Prince Tomura Shigaraki’s Coronation ceremony. After the passing of All For One, it was his turn to take the crown and fulfill his duty as the ruler of the nation

The entire city was busy, bustling with people. Families, friends and everyone in between gathered around the huge castle walls as they waited for the ceremony to begin. They waited patiently, filled with excitement and joy as they waited to catch a glimpse of the new great King. You were among them. You had come down to the centre of the city with your friends, waiting alongside many to catch a glimpse of the new ruler. The painting which nestled in your hand was something you were hoping to sell today, to a shop or anyone who wants to have it. It was a beautiful painting which had taken you several days to complete, and dare you say it, you were quite proud of it. From all the things you had heard about Tomura, you had managed to sketch him decently. Long white, wavy hair reaching till his shoulder, skin white as snow. He sat proudly on his throne wearing a cape with his vermillion eyes peering through your soul. His face was scarcely detailed as you did not have much idea about it but he still looked ethereal. With little scars running both his eyes and a comparatively larger one on his right. Chapped lips with even more scars running over them wildly, he was not conventionally attractive. No one would call him a pretty boy yet there was something more, something alluring which attracted you to him. His beauty was rare, not in the grasp of many but if it was grasped and held close to the heart, it was hard to let go off. And you found him attractive, very attractive.

The man took a good look at your painting, examining it carefully and for a second you really thought he had seen the mysterious Prince. “It’s quite similar to him,” he sends you a friendly grin and you notice a tooth from his front missing, leaving an uncomfortable gap. “Have you seen him before?” he asked and you shake your head, no. He gives you an amused expression, “I must say, you are very talented, miss…?” you complete your name with a nervous smile. “And you are?” you ask.

You realised that you were getting a little too comfortable with the stranger and it could be a really bad decision but you can’t help but give him the benefit of the doubt as he behaves like a gentleman you can find yourself to trust. “Kagero Okuta but I like to go by Giran,” he says with a lop-sided grin. Giran, you’ve heard the name before but cannot recall where and how. It sounds so familiar but you just can’t grasp it, he looked wealthy so you assumed he was a Noble and that made you even more curious as to why he was speaking to you.

“What are you planning to do with that painting?” he asks, diving a closer look and admiring its features. “I must say, you’ve got it quite accurate but,” you stiffen, your hands growing cold as your heartbeat picks up. You realized your painting must have some complications, drawing a man you had never seen before purely out of your interpretation was a hard and a bold task to do. But to have someone who had actually seen the King for himself pinpoint your mistakes sent a rush of anxiety through your veins.

“He’s not that bony.” He completes and you gulp nervously, looking down at your painting in disappointment. Your eyes are filled with disappointment, all of the time and effort you spent making the piece all for it go in vain just because you missed a small detail. Giran notices your remorse and speaks up, “But that’s quite alright. He looked just like that until a while ago,” he hadn’t meant to offend or hurt you. He still believed your painting was the most beautiful thing he had seen all day.

“What do you mean?” you ponder, giving him a perplexed look. He leans in closer to you as if to tell a secret, “let’s say the King has been working out behind closed doors.” you blink in confusion. It was a strange thing to say, exactly how well did this man know the Emperor? Who was it that you were talking?

“Who are you?” you can’t help but question, bewildered by such a character. Giran says nothing. He just stares at you with his lips curled into a snappy smirk, holding his cigar between his lips. He was not going to tell you anything. Without wasting time, he quickly changes the topic. “What are you going to do with that painting?” he repeats, his voice growing impatient.

“I am planning to sell it,” you feel a bit taken back. The friendly aura which had Giran had now disappeared for a reason you could not conclude. “Sell it? To whom?” the intruding nature of his tone starts to make you uncomfortable, there’s nothing more you want to do other than get far away from him. Yet you still find yourself answering him, “To anyone who wants it.” he hums at your response, his eyes holding a mocking glint. “Wouldn’t you like to give it to the Emperor himself?” you frown, was he mocking you?

“That’s well...impossible.” you reply, stretching your neck awkwardly. “To you, maybe.”

You stop yourself from rolling your eyes, this man was really testing your patience. A part of you tells you to ignore him and walk away but as he reaches into his coat and pulls out a bag of coins worth much more than you could ever earn in a month, he has you hooked yet again.

“Hey, let me buy that painting, would yer’?”

“What is the problem now?” Giran takes a seat around the round table. It was late after the Coronation ceremony and the Royal palace was already facing problems. Giran was disappointed but definitely not surprised. After all, he was their personal problem solver and broker. “It’s not that big of a deal.” A curt and hard reply cut him off.

“It actually is, Shigaraki Tomura.” a voice speaks, coming from a man dressed in a black suit with a long, flowy robe covering his entire body. He stands taller than the other two men in the as his head is replaced with a wisp of smoke. He was none other than the trusted and talented magician of the Royal family. With eccentric features and an ability to wield strange magic, nobody knew where he came from. There were many rumors about him; that he was once a normal, handsome man cursed by a witch that turned him into a hideous monster or he simply was a ghost. “What is it, Kurogiri?” Giran rephrases his question, directing it to the other man. “We need a new painter,-”

“Servant.” Shigaraki corrected. He stood in front of the giant windows glancing over his city as his men talked about hiring a new painter for the castle. He couldn’t care less about such tedious tasks, he had his focus set on greater things like expanding his territory, taking back stolen land.

“What happened to Mr. Kyo?” Giran asked, Shigaraki rolled his eyes at the mention of the name and clicked his tongue, “His Majesty eliminated him.” Giran stops himself from laughing out loud. He was certain once Shigaraki would take over the throne incidents like so would double the instant. But he was expecting it to happen so soon. “And why was that?”

“He was breathing too loud, like you are right now.”

A cold silence broke over the room as Giran counted his breath. Kurogiri looked nervously at Shigaraki who still had his back turned to them. The longer the pause grew, the dreadful the atmosphere became. Shigaraki’s threat strung the air loud and clear and Giran was afraid to speak again. “What we are asking for is that-,” Kurogiri started in a calm, slow tone easing the tension in the room. “-we need a new court painter. Do you have any names?”

The murderous sent in the air magically disappeared as a grin stretched across Giran’s face.

“Aren’t you in luck?” He says, running a hand through his hair before taking a puff out of his cigar. “Does that mean you know someone?” Kurogiri questioned. Giran hummed, “You see, I met this beautiful painter today. She’s extremely talented and I know for a fact she will love working for the castle.”

“What’s the name?” growing impatient, Shigaraki asks. “Oh, it was,” Giran pauses for a moment to recall.

“Ah yes, Y/N L/N.”

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dhaaruni · 2 years

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Why are historical costume YouTubers are like this? I am baffled by how insane they get about period dramas not having the actresses wear hats because audiences want to see their faces. It’s like they’ve become obsessed with particular era and can’t deal when other people don’t like it. Also a lot of them seem ignorant of non clothing history. I actually love historical fashion but I feel like there’s a relationship between the corsets are woke crowd and bimbofication that only you can explain

Well, I completely agree with @amoonshapedpool here.

Generally speaking, my take about fashion etc. boils down to "it's not that deep." I really just don't have the time or energy to go to war over clothes like quite bluntly, it does not MATTER whether or not corsets are historically accurate or if they wear the right kinds of hats in period dramas. They aren't wearing the right hats so you can see the actresses' faces and also because those hats are, more often than not, extremely ugly to the modern eye!

Also, like that post I screenshotted said, I also really don't want to romanticize the past at all since I enjoy living in an era where I can have a bank account and where my undergarments don't dig into me and misshape my ribcage. Costubers (or whatever they call themselves) can yell all you want about how corsets weren't SUPPOSED to do that and how women could totally do housework all day wearing a corset and cook and clean and do laundry but I've read Little House in the Big Woods by Laura Ingalls Wilder multiple times and in the book, she writes about how her mother, Caroline Ingalls, a working woman, had a waist her husband could span with his hands when they got married and how that was a sign of her great beauty, and that's really not a kind of aesthetic I ever want to return to.

And you're right, it's the same thing as bimbofication. Being conventionally hot will never be empowering because your beauty isn't yours, it's perceived by others, namely men! Men finding women's insanely small waists attractive doesn't mean it's empowering to have tiny waists, whether through extreme dieting or shapewear or corseting. I know I'm probably biased since I naturally have an hourglass figure albeit a normal one and not one with a 23" waist but my point still stands.

Also like, as someone that runs extremely hot, I see no reason to go back to the days of corsets like even bras are too hot for me during the summer and I can't go braless for obvious reasons lol.

#answered #anonymous #history #fashion

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deniigi · 3 years

Note

my supervisor fucked me over with all my other coworkers present. can I request a one shot from you to cheer me up featuring Sammy?

Did I give y’all the fic about the hotpot?

Well if I didn’t, I’m giving it to you now.

Title: hotpot

Summary: Ganke checks the comments for the Blindspot comic daily and there’s this one asshole anon who keeps talking shit about BT.

The Blindspot comic went live in the fall and Ganke couldn’t stop checking the hit count every five seconds. All night there had only been ten hits.

He told himself not to be disappointed. The only person who really mattered had read and loved the comic.

Miles said that BT had even forced everyone on the team to read an abridged version of Journey to the West, and had gone as far as to make a quiz to determine everyone’s character.

Miles refused to disclose who he’d gotten.

BT had clearly rigged the game to make himself Sun Wukong and Ganke was proud of him.

That kind of enthusiasm was exactly what he’d been hoping for, anything else now was just icing on the cake.

Even though it would be cool if it wasn’t just BT reading his own comics.

That would be pretty cool, right? Like. If people online all started reading BT’s comic. That would be sort of amazing.

Kind of excellent.

Definitely worthy of an A+ and double pats on the back.

Right?

The hit counter didn’t think so. But hey, five more people had opened the page since last night. That was something, wasn’t it?

MM: dude why not just ask Sam to tweet out the link?

How dare you, Miles Morales.

How dare you waltz into this place with logical thought.

GL: I can’t do that. That’s like. Idk. Inflating the views.

MM: okay yeah explain to me how appealing to the person in control of the largest part of his own fandom is inflating the views

GL: I see your logic and I’m banishing it

MM: I’m messaging him

GL: DON’T

MM: too late

MM: he says ‘gimme link’

GL: asdksjsjdks

@blindspot: hi I know y’all can’t get enough of me to the point of asking shockingly invasive questions and for you I say good news! Some amazing folks have gone through the trouble of making a Blindspot comic. it’s good guys check it out [link]

It helped.

A lot.

It helped a lot.

People, on the whole, had great things to say. The panels were screenshotted and tagged and sent all over social media and even though Miles was pretending to be chill and aloof about the whole thing, Ganke could imagine him smiling big and bright and white at his phone non-stop.

Mom and Auntie saw a few of the bits on Twitter and tittered over them in the kitchen like pigeons.

The pride rose like a wave. Ganke kept waiting for the crash.

It came two days later in the form of a comment that read ‘Christ, look at all this fuss. BT is fine. I hate his brother.’

It felt like someone punching the wind out of Ganke’s lungs.

He took comfort in the handful of people who leapt in to shout down the commenter. They emphasized that if the anonymous commenter didn’t like the story or the characters, then they didn’t have to read it and they, especially, didn’t have to say anything about it.

Ganke appreciated those guys. He got the feeling that a lot of the people on there knew that the whole thing had been done but a couple of kids.

Not that Anon cared.

Anon replied to all these comments ‘No, I’m gonna keep reading, thanks. Anyways, the brother is lame. The smart part is cool, but why’s it always gotta be a guy?’

The part that haunted Ganke even after he’d shut his laptop and had gone to stick his head out the window for some big breaths of cleansing air was that Anon was kind of right.

GL: should we have made Guotin’s brother a sister?

MM: no

GL: why not?

MM: cause BT’s always wanted a brother

Oh.

Okay. Then it was fine?

MM: yeah man ignore them. it’s chill.

GL: k thanks my ego is huge and fragile

MM: trust me I know

Asshole. Fine, moving right along.

It didn’t stop. Anon commented on every page. Every. Single. Page.

Ganke didn’t know what to do or say. On the one hand, clearly this person was dedicated and deeply engaged with the comic, on the other hand, they needed a Rude Alert button. Ganke wondered if Ned could code one for them and them only.

The latest of their fury was directed at the big reveal in the second issue—BT’s face.

Having now met Sam, BT, Blindspot, Ganke’s whole image of him had changed.

He was not conventionally attractive as far as like, K-Pop idols and famous Chinese dudes went. His eyes were puffy and narrow and his face was round everywhere but the jaw. He leaned more towards ‘cute’ than ‘sexy,’ which Ganke sort of loved about him.

He was friendly. Stressed and grumpy and feisty as hell, yeah, but first and foremost friendly.

Miles claimed that he called it his ‘number one asset in employability.’ Which was wild because hello, Blindspot.

Obviously, BT couldn’t help his face. But Miles and Ganke could help Guotin’s.

Ganke had sent Miles about fifteen different images of Chinese celebrities and had told him to do his worst. They’d reviewed the final few drafts and had picked one that was most like a young Chen Kun. His face was more oval-shaped than BT’s. His chin and lips were slimmer but more defined. He was pretty, but not so pretty as to be called ‘feminine,’ which Ganke thought was a solid compromise between ‘handsome as sin’ and ‘looks like he’s got a quirky sense of humor.’

Anon hated him.

Anon thought that he looked like an idol, and they were not here for it.

They told ‘the artist’ to give him a mole or something, anything to make him look ‘less pristine. God, I can smell him from here and he smells like Dior and staph habitat.’

Ganke had to look up what a staph infection was. He regretted it. He asked Miles if they should censor Anon.

Miles said ‘mmmmm, idk it’s not like they aren’t saying anything that isn’t true.’

Ganke resented that. Clearly this was defamation of BT. This person hated him and was taking their feeling out on the comic.

MM: I mean yeah but it’s not like they’re talking about the comic, man. They’re talking about the style and like, thinking about it, a mole or smth to help you tell him apart from other folks would kind of be helpful. Like, especially if we ever put him in a crowd, you know?

HHHHHH.

Fine.

Anon could stay. But they were on thin ice.

It was hard not to be bitter about Anon’s comments, especially when they arrived daily, as though Anon knew exactly what they were doing and which page they’d left off at. They couldn’t possibly be reading the comic one page at a time, this was intentional.

Ganke’s jaw hurt from all the tooth grinding he’d endured as of late.

This latest one read ‘yo, has BT ever mentioned fighting with a sword? I don’t recall him mentioning. Someone should take that thing away from him before someone loses an eye—or maybe even two.’

That felt like a pointed jibe.

That turned the churning irritation in Ganke’s gut into something much, much colder.

Did Anon know about BT’s black and blue eyes? How could they know? Was it a coincidence? It seemed to be more than a coincidence.

The pile of critiques was growing bigger and bigger, and now that Ganke thought about it, they all seemed to take issue with things that didn’t match the real Blindspot’s personality.

It was as if they knew him.

GL: miles did you read the new comment from AnonTheAsshole?

MM: lol yeah

GL: tell me if I’m talking out my ass or whatever but like

GL: you don’t think they could be Muse, could they?

Silence.

MM: oh no

Yeah. Fuck.

MM: chances are low.

GL: they know so much tho??

MM: might be stalker? Maybe someone who’s over-invested in BT’s social media pages?

GL: maybe.

MM: hold on let me ask Spidey to screen it

GL: does he know Muse?

MM: no, but he’s paranoid and he’ll get Wade to be paranoid with him, and then they can decide whether its worth giving to DD for verification. He knows Muse.

Ganke’s head was spinning. His fingers shook with guilt and the thought of Muse’s pale body hunched over a secret, cracked cell phone in a high security prison who knew where.

In Ganke’s head, he smiled wider and wider, until the skin on his cheeks cracked. He dug out scraps of paper and redrew Blindspot—Sam—with gaping holes for eyes and a screaming mouth and he drew dismembered corpses in black lakes and he laughed.

He just kept laughing.

MM: hey ganke

MM: it’s going to be okay. It’s just a comic. I’m sure AnonTheAsshole is a stalker. They’re not threatening anyone.

MM: Sam can deal with a stalker. And we can too, okay?

There was a reason that Miles was a hero. Ganke wiped at his eyes and swallowed.

GL: okay. Thanks for doing that.

MM: 👍🏾

It took a few hours because Spidey and Deadpool had lives outside of being Spidey and Deadpool, but not so long that Ganke ran out of nails to chew.

Miles messaged him back and said that Spidey had read through everything and ‘escalated it.’ This meant that whatever he’d seen had caused him enough concern to take it to DP.

Miles said that he’d get back to Ganke with DP’s verdict as soon as he had it. In the meantime, he’d run the comments by the other Spideypeople and they thought that it most likely wasn’t malevolent but was maybe something to keep an eye on in the meantime. He tacked onto all, somewhat stiltedly, that he had a weird feeling all of the sudden. The pink Spidey’s tone had changed. She’d shut down and gone cagey, which allegedly wasn’t like her at all. Then she’d told the taller guy to DM her and they’d vanished from the chat. Miles wasn’t sure what was going on there or if maybe they knew something about stuff going on that he didn’t, but he wasn’t super comfortable with it.

GL: crossing my fingers its nothing?

MM: same man, same.

DP escalated it.

Ganke couldn’t stay still in his room. There was no comfortable place to sit or stand or lay. There was nothing to do that would make him stop thinking about everything.

MM: It’s gonna be fine, man, DD always knows what to do.

Miles kept saying that for every step of the way, and yet here they were. Double escalated. Ganke wasn’t so sure he even knew what was happening anymore.

That was scary. Miles was supposed to be part of the in-crowd.

MM: Wade doesn’t think it’s anything that can’t be nipped in the bud.

That was easy for a contract assassin to say, wasn’t it?

MM: he says that you and I are fine. Doesn’t see any links there. Waiting on DD for confirmation of tone.

Hurry up, Daredevil. Your apprentice’s life might be about to take a nosedive into a heap of trash.

Two hours. One text.

MM: >:/

Ganke couldn’t contain the bubble of laughter.

GL: good news?

MM: [image]

He opened it.

SC: HANNAH YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE. STOP BEING A BITCH ON MAIN

HC: You can’t tell me what to do

SC: I CAN

HC: Mom he’s being MEAN

SC: Mom she’s scaring children online

HC: I scare children everywhere I go why are these ones special???

SC: Because I said so

HC: that doesn’t fucking work Samuel you’re not her

SC: I am your older brother

SC: your ELDEST brother

HC: YOU AINT SHIT

SC: THEY DON’T COUNT

SC: HALFSIES COUNT

What.

MM: so.

MM: she’s not Muse.

MM: Red’s laughing his ass off at all of us for taking this to a level three

GL: wait I don’t understand

MM: Hannah is Sam’s little sister. She’s found a new hobby in our website.

Blindspot’s little sister was reading the comic??? Holy shit.

GL: she hates him?

MM: no I’ve been informed that they would literally commit murder for each other but this is how they express love.

No way. Siblings were wild.

GL: so we’re good?

MM: [image]

SC: apologize 🔪

HC: eat my ass

SC: apologize or else

HC: or else what? You gonna come in here and sit on me? Huh? Huh????

SC: I know your email password. All 3 you cycle through. What was his name? Uuuuuuuuuh Jing?

HC: you fucking bastard

SC: Hi Jing, it’s me, Hannah. I’ve been in mad crush with you since sophomore year. Please notice me senpai 😖

HC: Die

SC: kill me

HC: I will.

The giggles that came this time were a mix of relief and genuine intrigue. This lady read the comic every day. She took the time to scroll through pictures of her brother being an absolute lunatic and fighting with a huge monkey. Then she hopped into that comment box and took him—not Miles, not Ganke, specifically Blindspot--down a peg.

She must miss him a lot. Ganke wondered if this was her way of keeping him in her thoughts.

MM: I don’t think we’re getting a sorry, man. DD says Sam’s been at this all morning and has been tricked into apologizing himself twice

GL: so you’re saying that she’s an evil genius

MM: idk but she’s def Sam’s main nemesis. I always thought that older siblings got like, rights or something over younger ones, but idk anymore. Angel says this is normal.

GL: do you think she misses him?

Miles took a long time to respond.

MM: yeah

Yeah, Ganke thought so, too.

GL: should we change Guo tin’s brother’s name to ‘hamish?’

MM: ASDLDSDSFKdsjf

MM: one moment.

MM: sam says yes. Hannah says that she thinks our comic is shit and we need to draw everything uglier

GL: she’s kind of funny

MM: 👀perhaps she would like to be a consultant?

GL: 👀👀👀👀

MM: brb asking

MM: sam says no. Hannah says she’s got better things to do than proofread comics on the internet. She’s also not sorry. She wants that to be clear. DD says that the conversation has moved from English to Chinese and to maybe duck and cover for now. He says all is good tho. Thanks for checking in.

MM: Muse doesn’t use punctuation and talks in riddles, so if we get any of that, we’re supposed to send it to DP right away.

Oh, nice. That was a relief.

MM: oh

MM: sam wants to put us in a chat. Can I give him your number?

Uh, only if he wanted Ganke to hyperventilate.

GL: sure

[GL has been added to a Secure Chat]

It was a page of characters and emojis that were somehow more menacing than Ganke had ever seen them before. Miles popped a little waving hand into the fray, as though testing the waters, but the characters just carried on scrawling around it.

Ganke wasn’t quite sure what to do.

GL: hi? Are y’all okay?

There was finally a pause. Then a few shorter lines of characters. And then finally, Blindspot switched from Chinese to English.

SC: yes we’re FINE. We’re GREAT. Aren’t we, sibling from hell?

HC: who’re you? Why are you in our family chat? This is a family only zone, can’t you read?

SC: God Hannah he’s Korean don’t be a dick

HC: I can’t not be I learned it from you

SC: fair but pretend in the face of company

HC: okay fine. Hello losers.

MM: adksadfadsdfldfsldf

MM: hi

GL: hi?

SC: go on

HC: UGH

HC: fine

HC: I didn’t mean to shit talk your creation. Only my brother.

SC: also a sin, we’ll get to that later

HC: no one cares about you Samuel, stop spreading lies

SC: you first. We both know this is no lie, my white dad cares about me a whole lot

HC: well we can’t all have white dads now can we

SC: don’t be jealous

MM: lol you really call Matt your white dad??

HC: who is this person and how do they know our mutual parent’s name?

SC: this is not a mutual parent situation how many times have we been through this. He’s mine. Get your own.

MM: hi! 👋🏾I’m Bitsy! Spidey no. 4

GL: I’m his friend. He draws the comic. I write it.

HC: oh. nerd children x2

HC: anyways yeah Matt is our dad

SC: ffs

MM: he’s sort of dadly ig.

HC: ?? oho

SC: mind your face. Think about your face. Think about how much you like your face.

HC: little spider, did you not hear?

SC: kay everyone out. We’re done here

MM: hear what?

HC: lol Sammy you didn’t tell them about how Matthew Mcconaughey adopted you in all ways but paperwork?

Ganke held his phone away from his face as far as it would go.

MM: …wait are you for real?

SC: no. okay out.

HC: awwww Sammy so shy now. What are you embarrassed about? It’s cute.

SC: Hannah literally shut up I’m not playing

HC: damn okay sorry

MM: can I be honest?

SC: no

MM: I’m going to be anyways: I think we all sorta knew.

SC: …

HC: right?

SC: what does that even mean?

MM: idk, it just felt right, you know? You two are always fussing at each other and red lost his shit that time you got shot. He doesn’t treat you the way he treats the rest of us and we’re his teammates. He doesn’t even treat spidey like he treats you. So like, yeah. It fits.

MM: I’m really happy for you guys.

MM: is there a reason it’s a secret?

Ganke eased himself back down onto the mattress. This was real. This was like, actual, real information. Something that he and like, four other people in the world now knew.

He kind of wanted to forget it. It didn’t feel right to know.

SC: I dunno.

HC: if sam has an honest emotion towards anything he has to calculate its weight so he can make space for it in his collection of satellites.

MM: wh

SC: you’re so not funny.

HC: it’s called emotional repression, darling. It’s all the rage in this family.

MM: oh

MM: so that’s why you and Red get on so well

SC: HHHHHHH

HC: HA

SC: okay but listen his is different, I’ve only seen him cry at his wedding. I cry at least 4 times a week. Obviously under the bed, but that can’t be emotional repression. That’s expression. That’s clearly expression

HC: I can make the old man cry watch me

SC: please don’t I’ll die

MM: awwwww

SC: shut up it doesn’t even matter.

MM: AWWWWWW

SC: LEAVE ALREADY

MM: no I like it here. I want to hear you talk about how much you love your white dad

SC: I don’t. He loves me. I’m fine with this because it results in food, shelter, and continued employment.

HC: uh huh

SC: I’m using him

HC: yeah because you’re like the most manipulative person I know.

SC: thank you

HC: /sarcasm

SC: I know I ignored it.

MM: so wait why do you actually pretend like you hate him tho?

SC: wh

SC: what the fuck am I supposed to do? Just go on up for a cuddle? Have you met Matt? The second someone starts crying, he finds trash to take out to the bins. Hell no. Life is easier for everyone if I stab him with a stick and he kicks my ass in training. It’s fine.

HC: Sam is learning how to be a Manly Man. This is step one.

SC: I’m plenty manly

HC: you’re what mom imagined as manly

SC: which is perfect. That’s all I need.

HC: mama’s boy

SC: must suck to suck, no one’s kid.

Wow. Ganke had never been more glad that he didn’t have a sister.

GL: That’s kind of cool, though.

GL: that you and DD are close like that I mean.

GL: Its different from all the other mentor/mentee superheroes we see who like, sort of hate each other.

SC: wh

SC: OH. you mean Peter and Kate. Peter doesn’t actually hate Stark, fyi. And Kate calls Hawkeye the Old bi-weekly to make sure he’s still breathing. It’s actually pretty normal.

MM: he doesn’t mean like that Sam. I mean, like those guys don’t associate with their Olds now that they’re grown up and stuff, but you and DD stick together. It’s like you’re family.

MM: and that’s super cool. Idk if Spidey would ever consider me family. I don’t think he wants that for us.

SC: I?

SC: oh shit

HC: CLARITY ON THIS FINE DAY. What was your name again, tiny spider?

MM: miles

HC: PRAISE BE TO MILES

HC: AN EMOTION WAS HAD

SC: get fucked

HC: An epiphany was obtained!

SC: would you shut up

HC: Something has finally permeated that non-porous, two-inch thick skull of my esteemed eldest brother

SC: I’m your only brother

HC: you’re not

SC: they don’t fucking count

HC: now will you FINALLY invite our mutual dad to hotpot?

SC: Hannah he doesn’t want to come to hot pot we’ve talked about this. it’s too spicy for him.

HC: I’ll make it 1/3 less spicy

SC: that’s still too spicy

HC: I’ll make it 2/5 less spicy

SC: 3/5

HC: listen

HC: I have all this fucking equipment that SOMEONE left here callously

MM: what’s hotpot?

SC: 👀

HC: 👀

GL: 👀

SC: well fuck

HC: EYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

GL: have we never taken you with us for hotpot???

MM: no?? is this the sticks?

HC: can be. Where do you live?

SC: Hannah no

HC: Hannah yes. We’ll make one here. You’ll make one there.

SC: do you know how much shit I’ll have to buy? Where are we gonna put it?

HC: this wouldn’t be a problem if you’d taken your goddamn inheritance with you to SF

SC: HHHHHH

MM: you guys are actually being serious?

HC: I am. I am here all on my lonesome. Abandoned by my only kin. I require enrichment.

SC: try doing your fucking homework

HC: did anyone hear something?

MM: lololololol I like you

HC: 😊

SC: wh

SC: oh no. No no no.

SC: you two don’t get to be friends

HC: come here bb pspspspspspsps

MM: I’m here

HC: got ‘im. Let’s have hotpot. Sammy send me resippy. We’ll do it together over video so I don’t fuck it up.

SC: I’ve got to go. This has been traumatizing.

HC: byeeeeeeeeeeee

HC: is he gone? Hell yeah, he’s gone.

HC: hey thanks for making that comic thing. It’s hella rad. He loves it. Mom used to call him Monkey when he was little.

GL: omg aw

HC: ikr? P cute. He misses her a lot so I think it brought back good memories. Anyways, I’m actually going to make hotpot. Come over and have some with me, it’s more fun with more people.

MM: you’re not joking

HC: nope, it’s been ages since your whole team has gotten together, right? Ask them to do it. I’m a shit cook, but Sam’ll show us how not to screw it up. And he’s playin’, he’s totally down to hang out with us. We never had more than three people. It’ll be new. Exciting. Enriching even.

MM: are you secretly a nice person, Hannah?

HC: the fuck do you mean ‘secret’??? I’m a delight.

MM: Okay I’ll ask the team and my mom

MM: ganke?

HC: 👀

That—

Sounded kind of nice?

GL: I’ll ask my mom.

HC: nice. You can tell them that it’s a friends dinner or whatever. Idc. I promise I’m not going to kidnap and murder you. I’ve got like, class and work and shit. I don’t have time for that.

MM: 👍🏾

GL: 👍🏼

HC: great here I’ll message you my number. This is legit our sibs chat so Sam’ll freak if you’re still here when he gets back.

MM: thank you! And sorry for thinking you were muse!!

GL: yeah that too

HC: lol np ttyl

That…had really just happened, hadn’t it?

Ganke needed to sit down even though he was already sitting down.

GL: they’re so nice???

MM: ikr?

GL: are you actually going to ask your mom?

MM: Im gonna ask BT if its cool first. Then yeah. Why not? Our team really hasn’t gotten together in a minute. Everyone’s been super busy. It would be a nice change of pace, and if everyone brings smth then Hannah doesn’t have to pay for anything.

MM: ah, Sam says it’s okay. He says sorry his sister is weird and that he’ll make sure she doesn’t poison us.

GL: I kind of love her

MM: same

MM: okay will check in with the others. Talk to you later.

GL: yeah see you later

Damn, at this rate, Ganke’s family was going to triple in size, and all thanks to a comic.

Before he left for downstairs, he made a note to make Guo tin’s brother snarkier.

#fic #inimitable verse #blindspot #samuel chung #miles morales #ganke lee

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a-tiny-atiny · 3 years

Text

I Get Deja Vu

Have you ever felt yourself falling in love? In a way, have you felt it physically manifest itself? Has your world ever felt like it’s suddenly gotten brighter and you wake up every morning excited to see that one special person in your life who made you feel that way?

Because Mingi has. In fact, he feels it stronger and stronger every day. All because of one person: Jung Wooyoung.

Mingi is a loser.

Okay, he can practically hear his friends screaming at him for even thinking that, but it’s how he truly feels. He used to have higher self-esteem when he was a kid, but it’s long gone now. He used to feel pretty neutrally about himself (maybe even a little confident), but that all changed when a classmate of his came up to him at the playground when he was nine and pointed out his small eyes and crooked teeth, and everyone else laughed.

He never thought about those parts of his face before. He really never looked at himself for more than a few minutes in the mirror while conducting his daily routine before school and before bed, but it made him wonder if he should have spent that time looking at himself more carefully.

When he thought about it, his eyes were smaller than the other kids’. He didn’t think it was a bad thing before, everyone in his family has smaller eyes, but since his classmate pointed it out and everyone laughed, it must be a bad thing. Same with his teeth.

He still looks in the mirror every morning and inspects his small eyes and crooked teeth as though staring at them for long enough will cause them to “fix” themselves into something more conventionally attractive. He doubts the classmate on the playground even remembers saying that (or remembers Mingi at all), but Mingi definitely does. It hasn’t left his mind since the day it occurred.

His best friends at the time, Yunho and Wooyoung were there to reassure him that there was nothing wrong with his appearance. “Some kids say I have weird cheeks,” he remembers a seven-year-old Yunho saying, “but my mom thinks they’re cute so I don’t really care.” Wooyoung offered a somewhat different but still comforting sentiment about the kid being a “butt-face” and a “stupid idiot,” which admittedly helped cheer Mingi up a lot.

Middle school was when a lot changed for Mingi.

On his very first day of middle school, he awoke to find his skin red and blotchy, the first sign of his to-be consistent acne problem. He was covering his face when he walked into the building, so Yunho and Wooyoung didn’t even see him at first. When they finally did, they scolded him for being dramatic and promised that no one would care if his face was a little blotchy that day.

Wooyoung seemed to have been blessed with perfect skin, because he never had a single breakout throughout middle school. Maybe he’d get a pimple here and there that he would cover with some of his mom’s foundation, but that was it. Yunho had a bit of acne too, but his parents could afford the expensive creams that made it go away instantly while Mingi’s family didn’t have the time or the money for that.

Throughout his experience in middle school, Mingi noticed three key differences in his life there than in elementary school: 1) Unlike in elementary school, it did matter what you wore.

The fact that he only had a few good shirts that were usually either a size too big or a size too small and only a few pairs of baggy jeans didn’t matter in elementary school. He could wear the same shirt and pants every day and the kids probably wouldn’t notice. In middle school, they definitely did notice.

In only his second week there, someone in his class asked why he was wearing the same shirt he wore just last week, which caught him by surprise. Was that a bad thing? He owns a laundry machine, it’s not like he’s wearing a mud-covered, dirty t-shirt or something. But his choice (or lacks thereof) in clothing brought several confused and sometimes even disgusted looks from his classmates.

This leads us to point 2) Being funny wasn’t enough to be well-liked. Admittedly, Mingi thought of his humor as basically his only talent. He’s just a pretty loud and outgoing person, so that earned him a lot of friends back in elementary school. In middle school, he was labeled the “class clown” and was viewed as a troublemaker by most of the kids, which made people want to stay away from him.

Even to this day, Mingi has a hard time being open with his thoughts and feelings because he’s worried he’ll come off as obnoxious and rude, even when he isn’t trying to be.

And finally point 3) Middle school is a lot bigger than elementary school. Normally, this wouldn’t really matter. Mingi was actually really excited at first when he heard the middle school had multiple floors that he could race to be the first one to climb. The only problem is that with a bigger school, there are more classes, and more classes mean less of a chance of him being with his friends (i.e. only Yunho and Wooyoung).

He ended up having most of his classes with Yunho but hardly any with Wooyoung except for when they could sit together at lunch.

Because of this, Mingi and Wooyoung started to drift apart a bit. Wooyoung even made a new friend named Yeosang, who Mingi genuinely liked but was afraid would replace him as Wooyoung’s best friend. Thankfully, this is not what ended up happening and all that occurred was Yeosang being added into the friend group with open arms by all parties.

It was then that Mingi started noticing something…strange.

He would get a tiny pang in his chest when Wooyoung was overly-friendly with any of the members of the friend group. This feeling didn’t occur with Yunho or Yeosang, only Wooyoung. At first, Mingi thought it was probably the feeling of missing Wooyoung because they didn’t have many classes together that year.

Mingi didn’t know what to do with this feeling. He just let it be at first because it wasn’t really bothering him that much, it was just strange. But as the years went on, it got stronger and stronger until Mingi couldn’t ignore it anymore.

In addition to this weird pang in his chest, he also started to feel a weird feeling in his stomach, kind of like when you’re at the top of a roller coaster and it’s just about to drop. That’s the kind of feeling he started to get when Wooyoung started to get, well…hot.

In high school, all four boys started to grow into their features more, but it was most evident in Wooyoung. Yeosang looked quite handsome too, but that wasn’t much of a change from middle school because he always kind of looked like a Greek god in Mingi’s eyes. Wooyoung, however, he was friends with since childhood and never really registered his features as anything other than “Wooyoung” until now. Now, they were registering as “hot.”

And that’s when Mingi started to get a feeling that something was…off. He wasn’t sure what and he wasn’t sure why, but he had never really been good with feelings to begin with so it made sense to him that it didn’t really make sense. Does that make sense?

“No,” Yunho said when Mingi tried explaining this predicament to him. “You’re going to have to give me more to work with, Mingi-yah. Maybe you miss him because you haven’t been spending as much time with him? You can text him and ask him to hang out.”

The very thought gave Mingi that weird feeling in his stomach again. He groaned and said, “Whatever, it probably isn’t a big deal anyway.” So, Yunho let it slide and so did Mingi for a while. Even if he got that weird feeling in his stomach, he just tried to ignore it.

He ignored it all the way until it became time to submit college applications.

That led Mingi to let another roadblock in the path of being a loser: he wasn’t really that good at anything in particular. His grades were fine, admittedly a bit below average, but not terrible. But they certainly weren’t enough to get into any university that Yunho, Wooyoung, and Yeosang were planning on going to, which was his main concern.

The only good part of Mingi’s life was his friends. His life basically revolved around them, and it still does, so not being able to go to the same college as them was a terrifying thought. Which is why Mingi started studying harder than ever.

“Whatcha doing?” Wooyoung asked one day after noticing Mingi in the library after school. This was very unlike him because anyone who knows Mingi knows that he hated school and always wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible.

Mingi jumped, seemingly not having noticed Wooyoung there before. “Oh! Um, just studying. You know, college stuff,” he explained clumsily. Why did he feel so nervous? It’s just Wooyoung, the same Wooyoung he’s known for his entire life.

“Studying? Since when did you study?” Wooyoung asked teasingly. Some people found that cheeky attitude of Wooyoung’s to be off-putting, but Mingi loved it because it fit right in with his sense of humor. That was part of the reason why they were such good friends.

“Since I needed to get into the same college you guys are going to,” Mingi said, the stress evident in his voice. This was obviously really weighing on him. “You know I can’t get into Sejong with my grades.”

Wooyoung frowned. It was true that Mingi’s grades were…on the weaker side, but he hadn’t ever considered the possibility of him not being able to get into Sejong with everyone. Going to college without Mingi was almost unthinkable. They had been together forever and Wooyoung wanted to keep it that way.

“I’ll tell you what,” Wooyoung said, taking a seat next to his friend. Mingi looked up at him with nervous eyes. To be fair, most of Wooyoung’s propositions were either very dangerous or very stupid or both. “I’ll help you study until the deadline for the application.”

Mingi’s eyes widened in shock and he was about to immediately refuse, but Wooyoung cut him off with an even more outlandish assertion: “And my parents and Yunho’s family are going to pay for your tuition.”

Now Mingi felt like sobbing, for so many reasons. Wooyoung actually wanted to help him and was willing to take time out of his incredibly busy schedule just to ensure that he had a fighting chance of going to the same university as his friends? Not to mention the fact that their families were willing to pay for his tuition? He actually felt somewhat lightheaded at the thought.

It’s true that Mingi’s parents had been relying on him getting a scholarship to be able to pay for his college education, but the chances of that occurring were seeming slimmer and slimmer when Minho’s grades failed to improve past a low B.

There were so many things he wanted to say to Wooyoung. Things like, “Are you crazy?” and, “There’s no way I can let you do that.” Maybe even, “Thank you.” But what he ended up saying instead was,

“You can’t do that.”

Instead of getting offended or even rescinding his offer (which Mingi both anticipated and feared), Wooyoung simply laughed. “Actually, I can,” he said, “and so can Yunho. You’re basically family to us and you know how much our parents like you. We’ve been saving up for this for a long time now and we were going to surprise you on your birthday, but it seemed like you needed a little extra encouragement now.”

Mingi wanted to thank Wooyoung and was practically forcing himself now to drop into a full bow, but what he did instead was equally embarrassing: he started crying. Loudly, too, and in the middle of the library.

But Wooyoung didn’t mind. He never minded. He always knew that Mingi was loud, and emotional, and a little silly, but he never minded. In fact, those were the things he was the most insecure about until Wooyoung started telling Mingi that’s what he liked most about him. He simply pulled Mingi into a hug as the boy continued to sob loudly, and stroked his back all the while.

It still isn’t exactly clear when Mingi started falling for his best friend, but if there was one moment he had to pinpoint, it would be that day in the library that he was sure he was in love with Jung Wooyoung.

#ateez #atiny #ateez imagines #ateez reactions #song mingi #mingi #jung wooyoung #jeong yunho #angst #hanahaki

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