#so yeah I have found two supervisors and they are both amazingly helpful

[brandinotbroke]

english speakers will never understand the struggle of when you don't know whether to siezen or duzen someone

[tqmies]

congrats on 1k!!! 🎉 i can’t believe i didn’t see the post sooner so i hope i’m not too late to request! could i please request mark lee, office romance, with #11, sfw? 🥺 thank you for your consideration!! 🫶🏼

Accidentally In Love | Mark Lee

Part of Tqmies 1K Event!

Office Romance Au , 11. “I think you and I make an amazingly stupid pair.” “I know! Our two brain cells combined together make for quality entertainment and a unique kind of stupidity.”  wc: 765 Note: oh to be in a stupid office romance with mark..

"Can you not do that to the coffee machine?" You groan, banging the printer next to you as you spot Mark in the break room.

"No, it's working! And just cause you hit the printer, doesn't mean it will work!" Mark shouts back. He continues to shake the coffee machine in hopes that it will 'brew the coffee faster' - Which has never helped.

Though you assume the same could be said about you as Doyoung, your supervisor, walks by and stops you from attacking the poor HP printer that was trying it's best. He sighs, leaning down to press a simple button, and just like that, the machine whirs to life.

"Oh cool, thanks Doyoung! You have like, magic hands." You nod, eyes wide like a child in amazement.

"It's called using the power button, Y/N."

"Yeah but I thought Taeyong had turned it on earlier." You blink.

He shoots you a unwavering look. "It auto-shuts off when it isn't being used for too long."

"Well that's dumb, we should get a new printer."

"This is the most high tech printer in the - Nevermind, forget it." Doyoung just shakes his head and walks off, not listening to your qualms about the electronic. Oh well, he was just going to miss out on your great ideas.

You can hear Mark snickering from behind you as you watch your boss walk away, defeatedly.

Crossing your arms, you continue to make the copies. Mark approaches you, steaming cup of coffee in hand as he looks flustered.

"What's wrong with you?" You ask, sliding the copies into your hands.

"I burned my hand after some coffee spilled out from me shaking the machine so much." He admits, and you notice his hand looking very red.

"Are we both idiots or?"

"Yeah." He nods, and you agree.

"You're dumber though." You respond, smirking.

"What!? You forgot to press the on button! Rookie mistake." He grimaces, sipping from his mug as he mutters a soft ouch at moving his hand.

"Well, I'm new here!"

"Okay, that excuse might've worked the first couple weeks but you've been working here for nine months, and yet you still say that."

"Taeil has short-term memory loss so he believes me." You smile at him. "Plus, nine months is nothing compared to the three years you've been here."

"How I've managed to even stay here that long is a mystery." He speaks to himself.

"I agree, seeing as we're here talking in the corner like we don't have work to do."

Mark quirks his head to the side and is about to respond when Johnny approaches the two of you. "Are you done heckling the printer?"

"Nope, I think it needed one more good kick." You respond, and Johnny laughs before he uses it.

"I heard what you guys were talking about and let me just say, I think Doyoung keeps you two around because you're entertaining." Johnny mentions, waiting for his papers.

You and Mark turn to each other, almost in sync, and laugh. "Thanks Johnny."

Though Johnny definitely didn't mean it in that kind of way, if anything, everyone mostly found the fact that you two still had jobs entertaining.

Like how did dumb and dumber manage to hold down positions at Neo Corporate Tech?

You turn to Mark, "You know what? I think you and I make an amazingly stupid pair.”

“I know! Our two brain cells combined together make for quality entertainment and a unique kind of stupidity.” Mark jumps.

"What a perfect match." You giggle, flashing him a smile.

"That's why I have such a big crush on you." He speaks, before slapping his hands over his mouth as you assume he let it slip.

"Oh." You say, staring in shock.

Really? Oh? You couldn't think of anything else?

Johnny quietly slips out from behind you both as you continue to stand wordlessly.

"I didn't really mean that-" He tries to turn it around as he stutters.

"You didn't?" Your face falls.

"No I mean, I did! If you like me back that is, if you don't then.. I don't either." He rambles on, face turning cherry red.

The rest of your co-workers watching from afar. They're hoping and praying you two didn't act as stupid about love too.

"I like you too." You admit, face growing hot over the dumb male that was your cubicle neighbor.

"Really? I thought you had a crush on Doyoung!"

"Doyoung?" Your jaw drops. "He barely says more than two words to me, and when he does? It's usually to just mansplain instructions to me."

Mark looks confused. "Hey, he does that to me too? Does that mean... I have a crush on him?"

"No Mark- No! You have a crush on me!"

[raynebowrayne]

New project I'm toying with. Whacha think, folks?

I'm tagging this with Reylo tags because that's the main focus of my blog and people there read my Ao3 Reylo Fanfic.

Here is an original story I'm working on.

***

He's like a male Molly Ringwald.

That was my first impression of Ben Johnson when he completed his first season on my favorite television show. In his rookie year as a celebrity his character had come on the show as the slightly odd and geeky but still charming and rather attractive in an unusual way that you could spend hours pondering without ever being able to explain the how or why of.

The next year he finished the season by winning the heart of the beautiful Esmeralda Crain, the central "beautiful young focal character" of the ensemble driven primetime drama that I watch with an almost religious fervor.

The show, "Finding Me" is an hour every week from June to September of pure unadulterated drama about a dozen just out of college, young people finding their way in the world. It's shot like a 'reality' show, but it's fully scripted and jam packed with amazingly talented actors and actresses. I can't get enough of it.

By season three I was blogging about it on three different social media websites, spending every second of my free time obsessing over the show. In truth, I spent my unfree time obsessing quietly while I check bags and wave a metal detector wand around people at my local airport.

Season 7 has just wrapped up and somewhere along the way, I fell head over heels for the character Miles Adams. I tuned in every week after season three just to see Miles. The other 10 people on the show were great, but Miles and Esmeralda stole the show in season three… and for me, in my obsessive frenzy, they became the pair I loved the absolute most. They were perfect together.

The actors who played them - Ben Johnson and Emmy Star (no, that's really her birth name, I googled her) were superb. By season 4 they were each making four times more money per episode than anyone else in the cast.

Of course, when they flew to vegas during the season four finale and got married during the airing of Miles and Esmeralda's own vegas elopement the internet exploded with the impact of an atom bomb.

Some people were flat out convinced that it had been a sham, a publicity stunt, a way to make the show more money so that it could afford Season five's pay raises for the entire cast, including doubling Ben and Emmy's already impressive salaries.

I never believed that. No way. Ben and Emmy, or Bemmy as I call them, have waaaay too much chemistry onscreen and off to be faking it. No, the show making more money was a natural consequence of having the most talented young cast ever assembled in one show. Period. End of discussion. Fin. I will not hear another word about it.

Of course, in every fandom you find trolls… With six couples, a lot of cross-relationship sexual tension, and a highly diverse cast season seven Finding Me's social media following is a breeding ground for fandom trolls. We real fans call them "antis." They whine endlessly about the show but for some reason wont just stop watching it. I do not get those people. They annoy me.

So here I am, in my cheap polyester uniform with my shiney little badge and clunky black patton leather steal toed boots, daydreaming about Miles' gorgeous, fiery, brown-eyed smoulder while I wave through a pretty blond that towered over me by a good six inches.

Mile's eyes have the most intense quality about them. He can literally boil freezing water with a single stare. I'm not sure at exactly what point he went from "geeky" to "omfg I totally would trade my soul for just one night with him" but I think it might have been the season two smouldering hot ten second stare down while stalking toward Esmeralda with pure unfiltered, unbridaled lust rippling off of him like heat waves off desert sand. Yeah, I'm pretty sure that was the moment.

Just the thought of that moment is enough to make me blush as I blink away the image. I glance up at the guy who'd just set off the metal detector as I pass the wand across his chest. I freeze. My brain crashes against my skull and I stand there gaping like a fish out of water as Miles Adams stares back at me in annoyance.

I blink.

No, not Miles Adams.

Ben Johnson.

Ben "omfg" Johnson is scowling at me. In the flesh. At MY airport! In Real Life!

I watched in fascination as the annoyed look melted off his face and alarm flashed ahead of concern that gave way to amusement and finally turned to exasperation.

"Breathe." He rolled his eyes and said, half mockingly - half coaxingly with a slight grin on his lips.

In Dolby Digital his voice caresses you like tattered silk, in real life, it's more like a cat's tongue.

His eyes widen and he half reaches for me. "No, really, you need to breathe."

Oh, god. His voice... is talking to me!

"Shit!" He hissed as his face, that incredibly expressive face of his, swam before my eyes.

I blinked and found myself looking up into his frowning face.

"Dear god, not again." Came an annoyed female voice. "They're never going to stop doing that if you keep catching them."

Ben turned a quick scowl toward someone above my head then looked back and asked me, "Are you alright?"

That's when three things hit me at once.

One, I'm cradled in his arms, across his lap as he squats down in front of the metal detectors.

Two, his eyes are prismatic, a totally different shade, ranging from black to amber-yellow depending on how the light hits them.

Three, I'm making a total ass of myself by continuing to stare at him - dumbstruck and drooling.

Reality set in with the suddenness and force of a high speed mid-air collision.

I apologized profusely as I fought my way through 10 tons of humiliation and panic to get to my feet. My mortification could not have been more complete… until I chanced a glance upward and spotted a trickle of blood oozing down his chin.

I have never wanted to cry so badly in my life.

Without another word I took off at a dead run for the nearest ladies room where I immediately screamed "Fuck!" at the top of my lungs. That didn't help much so I did it a few more times before I began ugly-crying my eyes out.

It took me a good hour to get control of myself enough to clock out amidst pitying glances and some snickering from my fellow security guards. I kept my eyes straight ahead as I walked briskly out to my car.

I'd been at Bluegrass for five years. I'd seen celebrities before. Admittedly, not many… but some! Johnny Depp once came through my line! I was calm, cool and professional. No sweat. Under no circumstances have I ever lost my shit over anything or anyone like I did with Ben Johnson. Not even close.

I called in and talked my supervisor into arranging two weeks worth of my accrued vacation for the immediate future. It was too easy. He had obviously been appraised of my blunder.

I hung up and cried myself to sleep at four o'clock in the afternoon.

The next two weeks were more of the same. Log in to check my blogs, weep as soon as I see a picture of him, log out and cry myself to sleep. Wake up, go pee, see myself in the mirror and burst into tears. Pull a burrito out of the microwave, set it on a paper plate, burst into tears.

About midway through the second week I got rip roaring drunk... at home… alone… with a half gallon tub of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream and a half gallon bottle of Smirnoff.

It tasted terrible when it made an encore appearance later on.

As I lay there next to the toilet, in the fetal position, my hair wet from both sweat and vomit, I pondered my life and it's recent trials and tribulations.

The most comforting thought came to me as the room spun like a drunken tilt-a-whirl. It doesn't actually matter what happened when Ben Johnson unexpectedly jumped out of my fantacy and into my reality… I'd never see him again.

Another highly comforting thought was that my co-workers will surely have moved back to their favorite gossip topic, Shirleen Dabney's love life, and forgotten all about me fainting and then splitting the lip of my favorite celebrity by now. Surely. It's not like they're blogging about it. Shirleen's love life is way more interesting than lil ole me.

Shirleen is a tall, leggy, redhead with surgically enhanced ta tas and an ass like a fetishist porn star. She's been picked up and dropped off to work by twelve different men in the three months she's been at Bluegrass. Twelve! Different! Men! That works out to one a week. The security room is abuzz with gossip about her every second that she's not in it… and dead silent when she is.

With two more Shir-boys to gossip about, no doubt my little incedent with a t.v. star is long forgotten.