#you work because it is good. it's good to work. a lazy man deserves nothing. if getting into heaven was easy then what was jesus's death for

[itoshiexx]

WHEN YOU'RE MAD AND USE THEIR FULL NAME

how the blue lock boyfriends react when you're mad and use their full name

pairings: isagi yoichi, nagi seishiro and itoshi sae x gn!reader (separate) | warnings: little arguments, angst if u squint, reader is kinda hot headed? lol, mostly fluff and the boys wanting to be in your good graces.

notes: did i kick depression in the ass to finish this? not really. but it worked, and here i am! this is my nagi seishiro debut omgggg hopefully i did him justice and he's not too ooc. also new design for the scenarios to match my theme. enjoy, lovelies! let me know if you'd like especific scenarios and send me an ask :)

masterlist

ISAGI YOICHI

yoichi hoped he would die. 

really. 

it’s the least he deserved for making you angry — even more so because he didn’t know what made you angry in the first place. he spent the last fifteen minutes excavating his mind to try and remember what could have ticked you off so much that you don’t even wanna look at him.

he hates it. isagi needs your eyes on him, needs to hear your voice and touch your skin. and with the way you’re so silent and distant, he might be just like a man in the desert without water.

“baby,” he looked at you on the other end of the couch, intently watching the tv show in front of you.  just a glimpse would make him breathe again. just a nod would ease his nerves. hell, he would even take a glare, as long as you were looking at him.

but he got nothing. zero. nada.

“baby, please,” he tried again. “i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to make you mad.”

you furrowed your eyebrows, but still didn’t spare him a glance. he sighed.

“i’ll never do it agai—”

“do you even know why you’re apologizing, isagi yoichi?!” you asked, exasperated. your boyfriend froze on the spot when hearing his full name, because of course he didn’t. 

as far as he knew, you were having a great day together. he bought you breakfast from your favorite bakery, you made a delicious lunch and then you two went out shopping. he even gifted you with a beautiful necklace after an enthusiastic shop employee offered to show him some pieces—

oh.

“you got jealous of the saleswoman?”

“blah blah you got jealous of the saleswoman? heck yeah I did!” you impersonated him with a high pitched, sarcastic voice that showed just how mad you were. “she was all over you, yoichi, and you didn’t do anything!” 

he swallowed thickly, daring to approach you on the couch. he hugged your frame, despite the crossed arms in front of your chest making it a little hard.

“i’m sorry, darling. i didn’t even notice she was being inappropriate because you’re the only one i pay attention to. and i always figured people would never dare be so bold if you’re by my side and we’re clearly together.”

his sweet words coated you, making you glance away, knowing that looking at his puppy eyes would end you for good. 

“you should have done something anyway.”

“i know. i totally should, and i’m sorry i didn’t. i never meant to make you feel bad or let people disrespect you.” he rested his chin on your shoulder, breath shuddering right on your ear.

the sincerity in his voice was enough to chip away your anger, and you visibly relaxed in his embrace. yoichi held a breath of relief, knowing he still had to be careful.

“i’m sorry, baby. it won’t happen again. forgive me, please?” he placed a sweet kiss on your cheek, and god, how could you keep being mad like that?

damn isagi yoichi and his genuine blue eyes.

you uncrossed your arms, embracing his instead, and finally looked at him with love again.

“fine. but just because you’re so charming, ‘ichi.”

he chuckled. “you’re the charming one. i’m totally under your spell, darling.”

and when your lips met, yoichi hoped to keep living just to have more of you.

NAGI SEISHIRO

people would often ask him if his detached, nonchalant persona ever got in his way through his life. seishiro would always say no, because everything and everyone he did care about understood his lazy way and inability to do… pretty much everything.

that didn’t mean he never made the effort, though. as much as nagi liked to live like a sloth and just go on with his life playing video games, there were still things in his life that were worth it. like football. his friends. and you, of course. 

ever since you met, seishiro discovered that being with you wasn’t a bother. and after he fell in love and you became a couple, he found himself eager to indulge you, even if it meant going out of his way. his friends congratulated him and expressed genuine happiness to see how much he improved, and that, along with your beautiful smile, filled his heart with joy. 

however, no matter how much he tried, he was still…

“nagi seishiro.” 

a shiver ran down his spine with the sound of your voice, and not the good kind. he had never heard you sound so stern, so angry, so… disappointed, even. enough to leave a sour taste in his mouth. so much so he immediately lifted his eyes from his console, only to find your harsh gaze.

“ehh? wha’ did i do, angel? don’t say my name like that,” he pouted, crawling towards your body splayed on the bed. 

even when you tried to fight his embrace, nagi took advantage of his large frame to engulf you and lay his head on your chest, so you wouldn’t walk away in case you got any angrier.

“babeeeee,” he whined, hugging you tighter.

“let go of me,” you said, and he just shook his head. “you deserve it. you weren’t even listening to what i was saying, were you?”

what a hassle. he really wasn’t listening, but… well, he got way too focused on beating the last boss. could you really blame him? 

he heard you scoff. “oh, my bad, i should have known it was the last boss. it’s more important than me anyway, right, nagi?”

fuck. fuck. fuck. did he say that out loud? he sounded like a dick. you had every right to be mad and call him by his full or last name. 

nagi lifted his head from your chest to look at you, feeling his throat tighten with the sight of your teary eyes. guilt gnawed at his chest when seeing how upset and frustrated you were. 

“eh, ’m sorry, pretty thing. i got too caught up ‘n didn’t notice you were talking t’me.”

“am i that invisible to you?” a tear almost rolled down your cheek. seishiro shook his head, a little more exasperated than usual. 

“huh? ’f course not, angel. y’re never invisible. all i see is you. y’re the most important to me,” he held eye contact, and even though you wanted to tear your gaze away, seishiro’s eyes were more magnetizing than ever, even if your view was a little blurry.

you knew your boyfriend wasn’t the type to lie, since he always claimed it was a hassle. you knew you were important to him, but his lack of consideration still hurt. 

“i’ll apologize as many times as you wish. ‘m sorry for not listening and making you feel bad. i never wan’ you to feel bad, pretty thing.” 

nagi used his strength to roll around and switch your positions, in a way you were on top of him instead. he started caressing your hair in a soothing motion, making your eyelashes flutter. “y’can talk as much as you want. i promise i’ll listen t’you.”

your eyes welled with tears for a different reason, and you hugged the striker as hard as you could. even if he faltered, seishiro never failed to make up to you and make you feel loved.

“promise, sei?”

“promise.”

ITOSHI SAE

although sae wasn’t exactly smart in the emotions field, he always knew when you weren’t happy with something. you scowled, huffed and rolled your eyes, keeping an eerie silence that was only broken when absolutely necessary. 

at that moment, he was sure you weren’t happy with him.

you both kept to yourselves while still at the event, masquerading any problems for the cameras. sae had a hand at the small of your back and he could feel how stiff you were. the midfielder wouldn't admit that seeing you so uncomfortable around him made his heart pang.

at the limo, the path to your shared penthouse was quiet, and you brushed him off when he tried to hold your hand. sae could only stare at his window with furrowed brows, itching to dissipate this awkward atmosphere. he never liked when you were mad, especially at him.

he expected some sort of explosion when you got to your apartment, but you kept your glaze off him, trying to walk to the bedroom for your night routine without even sparing him a word. 

nuh-uh. that wouldn’t do. 

he held your wrist before you could go, and lightly pulled you so that you were facing him. your eyes widened with the sudden movement, but narrowed as soon as landed on his face. 

“why are you mad?”

you scoffed. the audacity of this man. 

“you know exactly why i’m mad, itoshi sae.”

shit, the government name? you were really fucking angry.

“i wouldn’t be asking if i knew,” he answered, immediately regretting it when you glared at him, as if saying that wasn’t the right answer. “i-i mean… i didn’t realize what was wrong, amor.”

you walked closer to your boyfriend, making him release your wrist. despite his typical stoic face, sae was clinging to your every word.

“itoshi sae, you can not talk to your little brother like that!” you nearly growled on his face, surprising him. “you were very rude and condescending, and that’s no way to speak to rin!”

he frowned. you were mad because of rin? the little green monster inside of him threatened to grow, but he forced him to stay put. sae didn’t want to anger you further, so he simply let his hands slither to your hips, pulling you closer to him.

“i don’t think i was rud—” you lifted one eyebrow, and he rolled his eyes. “fine. i might have been kinda harsh.”

“and?” you crossed your arms.

he sighed. “i will apologize.”

“i’m serious about this, itoshi sae. i will ask rin—”

“i’ll tell him i’m sorry, okay? no need to keep talking about rin.” he interrupted, palms traveling to your ass while he nosed your neck. he planted a small kiss under your ear, huffing a minty breath that made you shudder. sae smirked. “and no need to keep calling me by full name, either. what happened to ‘cariño’?”

you held onto his biceps for some grounding, but still didn’t budge. 

“you weren’t very sweet today, so it’s not fitting.” 

he pouted while hiding in your neck, taking full advantage that you couldn’t see him, but was quick to withdraw to face you once again, touching your noses. one of his hands cradled your jaw, and you sighed with the pathetic effect your boyfriend had on you. 

“perdóname, amor?” he whispered against your lips, eyes sincere like you knew he could be. your poor little heart could never resist him when he was like this, rarely vulnerable and eager for you.

you gave a long exhale, arms moving to tangle around his neck. and folded.

“as long as you make it right, mi cariño.”

© 2024 itoshiexx. do not plagarise, translate, or repost any of my work on here or other sites.

[gxlden-angels]

And the winner is...

Protestant Work Ethic!

The loser is all of us :)

Mothers and Fuckers of the jury, my friends and I would like for you all to vote on the Protestant version of "Catholic Guilt." My personal favorite is Protestant Paralysis, but don't let that influence your decision. At first I thought the Protestant Work Ethic covered it but feel like it's too specific to be the same thing

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hey Author! I love your BatFam work, and I was wondering if you could write something for the boys (especially Jason 🤤) reactions if the friend they had a crush on told them that their s/o had forgotten their birthday/anniversary/some other important day in their life?

Jason

Finds it insulting that your apparent ‘partner’ hasn’t spoiled you rotten, praise you for blessing their life with your love, time and affection, nor worshiped the ground you walked upon but instead forgot the most important day of your life and for what?

There was no excuse and Jason knew that if he were your man, he’d have everything planned months in advance for you, things such as a long winded letter that told you how much he adored you; followed by plenty of small gifts with deeper meanings for the pair of you scattered throughout the apartment.

However the grim reality was that he wasn’t your man, you were in the arms of someone who didn’t know what they have is someone who is one in a million.

He’d would try and attempt to write something sweet and heartwarming for you, all in hopes of replicating the very things he reads in books, and while he may not be good at it but he’s more then willing to try for you regardless.After all it was more effort than what your partner was putting in, claiming you weren’t worth the headache of planning for anymore.

Something so which that upon finding out, only proved to piss Jason off as to him that wasn’t love, it wasn’t anything at all and you certainly shouldn’t be on the receiving end of such..laziness. So while his best might not be good, but it sure as hell was a masterpiece in comparison of doing nothing for you like your asshole of a partner. He’d get you a plush that looked like him and tell you that it’s hiding a message, or a little gift that you might like, something for you to open when you were alone to read and or open the packaging.

If your partner was out for the night then Jason would have you come over to his place where he- with the help of Roy and dick- had decorated his apartment to celebrate you and everything that was you. You might find yourself wearing his hoodie for the night before having to take it off when you had to go home, but Jason would sneak it into your bag while you weren’t looking and when you eventually found it alongside a note telling you that once you were tried of that fool, come and find him.

You were left imagining a life where you had chosen Jason over your pathetic partner and how much more colourful life would be in comparison, but for now you’ll guess that it’s black and grey until you defied that enough was enough.

Bruce

Spends money on you, like serious money amounts of money on anything your heart desires because you deserve the most.

Sure it’s under an anonymous name but it doesn’t take long for one to figure out that it was from Bruce Wayne, for one the gift was expensive for even the most richest of families to afford so effortlessly, not without feeling the impact on their bank account.

Not Bruce Wayne however, never Bruce Wayne as even the most expensive gift in Gotham was an easy purchase for that man, and he’ll happily get if for you with the snap of his fingers, for anything you could ever want was as easy as breathing to come true for the billionaire.

He’d even personally come to your home and invite you to dinner over at his manor, only if you were interested of course he wasn’t going to pressure you.

‘But I’ve got nothing fancy to wear mr Wayne.’ You’d reply.

Bruce waves his hand. ‘Please call me Bruce, and there’s no need for fancy attire just whatever you feel comfortable in because you’d look charming regardless.’

You’d smile, this was the nicest compliment you’ve ever gotten, seeing as how your partner doesn’t even bother taking you out anymore, claiming you were costing them hard earned money and weren’t worth the headache. Something that Bruce disapproved of heavily, sighting that your partner was lazy, unappreciative and neglectful of you in every aspect of the word, and he wasn’t about to allow that to continue.

He was going to show you that you deserved more. That you should look for more from a partner -him- because you deserved someone who was more than willing to have you and isn’t afraid to show you off. *cough* him *cough*

Damian

Like father like son but Damian would gift you small trinkets that he knew you’d like, not because it was to spite your pathetic excuse of a negligent partner but because you deserved to be showered in such gifts.

You deserved to be treated more then how your current partner was treating you in general, and he’ll gladly show you such as he takes you out along with the dogs. Not only would he bring the dogs but he’d take you on a park date where you both painted on canvases, eat sweet treats and just have an overall good time together.

You know like a proper couple. Your partner should take notes.

Damian would tell you that you should break up with your partner, straight up, no mincing his words, he truly thinks that if one is unhappy on their relationship they should just leave and search for someone better. In this case your better partner was him, simple as that.

He wants you to wake up and realise that the better you’d wish to have was right in front of you, more than ready to lay down his life for you at any minor inconveniences should you ask him to. That and the dogs love you to death and didn’t like your partner neither as they’d growl at them to show their distain for the shitbag.

‘It’s Gotham, there is no better Damian, there’s just what you get and you have to live with it.’ You told him as you overlooked the city.

‘There is.’ Damian stated as he stared at you, the crappy city lights made you look angelic in his eyes and he’ll badly die on that no matter what. Then he glanced down at your hand, wanting nothing more than to hold it within his own, keeping it warm and safe in his like he should’ve from the start. ‘They…just weren’t fast enough to save you from that poor excuse for a partner.’ He adds with venom when referring to your partner.

You glanced over at him, searching him for a bluff but only finding the truth when his eyes remained on you, baring it all for you to read until you were satisfied. Damian wasn’t going to do anything until you make the first step and cut ties with your current partner and seek him out afterwards, so until then he’ll wait, he’ll always wait.

Dick

Takes you on an impromptu date…as friends of course…unless…👀

Dick thinks your partner is well….a dick for not wanting to spend time with you during your special day, but yet was more then willing to take your mind off of something negative and make something positive for you to focus on. Dick believed you shouldn’t have to be miserable and alone because someone else couldn’t be bothered to shower you in affection and appreciation.

He’ll gladly do so in their stead by locking arms with you, putting his hand on your lower back when in crowded areas, or just finding some way to keep hold of you however he could to prove that a love should go deeper then spoken words. Words to dick can only display feelings so far before you have to show it through other means and dick was the most affectionate when he was with you.

It was almost as though whenever he was within your presence, he felt the need to hold your hand, smile at you in a way that was special for the both of you, hold your face in his hands as he presses his forehead against yours while staring deeply into your eyes. Anything and everything he could think of dick found himself wanted to do with you and only you, and so if your partner wasn’t going to spend time with you, dick will and he will do it because he wants to be with you.

To Dick, being with you wasn’t a chore or an obligation to him, he wanted to be with you because he genuinely likes you and so much more.

Dick will bring Hayley because you loved her so much, and he will bring her often just to see you smile as you greeted the dog with open arms as she licked your face with affection. After all everyone loves dogs.

Dick would show you everything you’re missing out on and leaving you with the question; were you with the right person?

Tim

Finds it despicable that your partner couldn’t be arsed to spend time with you or get you gifts. He knows he can do a thousand times better than him. A thousand times better then him but I’d only he asked you out first before the rat of a person did, it’s a regret he holds within his heart and blames his hesitance for on many instances.

Tim would go so far as to find online shops and spend -on Bruce’s credit card no less because this man has those numbers memorised- on things that he remember you saying in passing that you liked but couldn’t afford unfortunately.

He’d have movie nights with you as you both shared his computer, eating pizza and your favourite sweets that he just so casually remembers, all the while just being over all comfortable with one another as sooner or later you’d rest your head again his shoulder.

Now this wouldn’t have looked like much, but when you had a crush on someone who was with someone who didn’t treat them like you did, Tim felt ask though he was within his one little dimension with you. He felt as though he was living the dream he was too afraid to make reality, he felt how right this was and how perfectly seamless this all was between the two of you; this was the dream he wanted to live with you in but until you break up with that prick, he couldn’t give you the life you so deserved in his eyes.

‘Thank you Tim.’ You said sleepily.

‘For what?’ He asks.

‘For everything, for remembering.’ You replied as you continued to watch the movie whereas Tim kept looking at you with a solemn look. You shouldn’t have to thank him for this, not at all because he’d gladly repeat this scenario countlessly for you if you so wanted.

‘No need to thank me,’ Tim told you, ‘I’m just doing what any other would’ve done for you.’ He adds awkwardly, still feeling the regret of not asking you out fast enough for his one liking as he offered you some sweets as the next movie played; ironically it was about a boy pining for someone who is in a shit relationship. Tim silently groaned as he was forced to watch what felt like his current situation play out before him, while you only snuggled up closer to him and casually saying.

‘This is one of my favourites.’

Tim knew even the devil would wince at his predicament, finding it enough torture for him as it was. He only hopes that you break up with the prick sooner rather the later before he says something stupid and by accident.

[nnight-dances]

ONE KISS, ONE LOVE

PAIRING: park wonbin x fem!reader

GENRE: fluff, hurt/comfort, suggestive dialogue but nothing explicit

TROPES: established relationship!au, idol!wonbin, age gap vibes but no real mention, reader babies wonbin like he deserves to be, texts at the end, just sickening sweet stuff

WATCH: wonbin's night routine

NOTE: inspired by the video above! once again, these wonbin fics write themselves ... he might be my favorite boy to write rn or maybe that's just my way of coping!! anyway don't be surprised if i just start spamming u with the wonbin fics i just have too many good ideas. but they're all gonna be set in this same established relationship style, he's just so bf coded lol... anyway, enjoy <3

you've been in bed for a good twenty, clad in cream pyjamas and skincare intact, when you hear the frontdoor open – signalling your boyfriend, wonbin's arrival. you pause the video you're watching on your phone and sit up to greet him, "bin? welcome home." his heavy footsteps stop where his figure finally comes into your view.

wonbin looks wiped out, no doubt, eyes shadowed by his somnolent lashes. he stares at you for a moment before humming, the sound halfway between a thank god you're here and i could die right now. he peels his layers off with speed, black leather jacket hung up on the tree-shaped rack near your closet and his other outerwear finding its place on the small cabinet next to it.

you watch fondly as even in his fatigue, he patiently makes sure no outside clothes pollute the bed. as soon as he's in nothing but his white tee and boxers though, he jumps onto you, deflating the air out of you like a body pillow.

"hello," he mumbles, face disappearing into your chest where he snuggles closer. 

"hi, love," you welcome him warmly, fingers carding through his hair as a force of habit. you breathe against his limp body, letting him unwind on top of you as he often does. it's a silent activity, a night routine of sorts for wonbin on his longest days. he'd trudge home and settle close to you, wordlessly like a cat looking for soothing. 

sometimes, you talked to him about your day and he'd hum along, eyes on yours telling all you needed to hear. other times, you would go back to doing whatever you were doing – watching a show, playing a game, or talking to a friend – while he recharged. he even insisted it worked best when you were just doing your own thing.

today, you do neither. setting your phone aside, you occupy yourself with wonbin himself, first meandering through his charcoal hair and then trailing down to his neck, tracing hearts and stars into his skin. you can feel him relaxing under your touch, his face finally coming back into your vision. 

"tired," wonbin says, voice coarser than ever. "need to sleep." 

"i know, baby," you croon, "wanna wash up first?"

he shakes his head adamantly, "no. sleepy."

you laugh softly, "angel, i'm sure you are but you can't sleep with your makeup on, can you?"

"had a few drinks with taro hyung," he murmurs as if that explains his behavior.

"really? you had time after practice?"

"he snuck it into practice. beer after all that sweating was nice."

"wow, look at you," you muse, hand brushing his bangs out of his eyes, "you sound like an old man."

"i am," wonbin pouts, "let the old man go to sleep."

"sorry, love, i can't do that," you say.

"rude."

"say what you will," you sit up fully, pulling your sluggish boyfriend with you. ignoring his groans, you kiss his nose, "wash up, okay? can't have my rockstar breaking out because he was too lazy to wash his face before bed."

he groans again but this time it's an endearment, his kiss on your cheek disguising his smile. "but i can't move, y/n. please."

"i'll help you," you snake out of the sheets, squatting as you heave wonbin out as well. he stands up unwillingly, head wilting like a sad flower. you laugh, pulling him toward the washroom, "will you listen if i do all the work?"

that gets the job done alright because two minutes later, wonbin's settled against the sink with you between his legs. you crane around his tall limbs to reach for his products, having memorized his night skincare by now. 

cleansing balm in hand, you carefully cover every inch of his face, the makeup turning into oil gradually. "okay, babe, now rinse your face for me."

"you said you'd do all the work!" he complains without missing a beat. 

you glare at him, "i can't possibly wash your face without making a mess of both of us."

"sounds like an excuse to me."

sulking, he turns around, washing the balm off. next, you go in with his foam cleanser, gently circling his cheeks and forehead. despite all his earlier declarations, he watches you attentively, his hand loosely clasped around your waist to keep you in place. you have to scold him midway at one point when he gets cheeky and sneaks a hand down your pyjamas, feeling the hem of your panties. 

eventually, you dry his face off with a hand towel. "there," you peck his cheek, "all clean."

when he doesn't let go of your waist, you raise a brow at him. "you only love me when i'm clean," he scowls, "don't you?"

you narrow your eyes at his tantrum, "i think you're forgetting how i'm sacrificing my screen time before bed to clean you up right now."

he looks unconvinced as he tails you out of the bathroom. he's about to throw himself back onto the bed when you stop him by his hand. "change first," you explain, pulling out fresh pyjamas and throwing them at him. 

wonbin stands idly and it's only when he starts raising his arms up that you realize he wants you to do it. you sigh, "bin, you're such a baby today." but you smile as you pull his shirt off, disregarding the way he instantly flexes when he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror. slipping his pyjamas on, a piece at a time, you clap when he's done.

"i would make a great mother," you pat yourself on the back.

"you can adopt me if you want," he shrugs and you snicker, "i don't think i need to." 

"you want anything to eat before you sleep?" you ask as if you hadn't quite literally brushed his teeth. "chocolate," he says without any conviction and you roll your eyes at him, watching as he launches himself at the bed.

"quick, come here," wonbin whines. you pad over to your side of the bed and join him, giggling when his body curls around you instantly. his nose finds its indent against your neck this time, cold and fresh. 

for a minute, you think that's all you'll hear out of your boyfriend for the night. but it's just as you're about to reach for your phone when he speaks up again, "sorry if i'm boring."

you're not sure if your ears hear right, "what?"

but his voice is solemn, "...i'm probably kinda boring lately. so i'm sorry."

you turn on your side to face him completely, hand coming to rest against his cheek. "bin, you idiot. you coming home is the best part of my day."

"really? even though i'm too dead to do anything?" he perks up but his eyes gloomy, "we don't even fuck anymore. or go to the movies. or go out at all."

you laugh, "you're making us sound like an old couple on the verge of divorce, baby. you're just busier because of your comeback! i'm so excited and you should be, too."

"i am. but i don't want bore you."

"you don't, though. i'm lucky enough i get to see you at night and take care of you when i can. plus, it's not like you won't have more time after your promotions, right? we can do everything you want then."

wonbin blinks at you, his cool hand finally coming to meet yours where it was still caressing his cheek. he kisses your palm, "thank you. i'm glad."

"of course, love. now, go to sleep or you'll regret it tomorrow," you chirp, rolling over and shutting the lights off quickly.

"...you really would be a great mom," wonbin laughs at your behavior. 

"good night, wonbin."

"good night, mom."

you hit his arm at his brazenness but when he just laughs again, the sound is too sweet for you to even pretend to be mad. so instead, you hug him closer, hand on his bicep and his legs tangled with yours. 

–

bin: I AM FREE AT LAST

bin: FROM THE SHACKLES OF IT

you: …

you: how would ur fans react if i leaked our texts

you: so much for being mysterious

you: "shackles of it" boy have you ever touched a book

bin: okay so you're rude today

bin: i miss y/n mom version

you: ew?? if u have a kink i dont think this is gonna work

bin: because…? 

you: is sungchan still single

bin: i was kidding! haha!

you: ok.

bin: seriously tho let's do smth fun 2nite

you: i get off work late today :(

bin: whatttt you have a life outside of me :0

you: do you WANT me to break up with you???

bin: what i meant was i will be there to pick you up <3

you: wtv man idgaf anymore

bin: noooo

bin: i'll do anything you want don't be mad

you: anything?

bin: well other than leaking our texts ofc

you: i want to live together

bin: ???

bin: we alr do

you: wonbin 

you: baby

you: you just always come over to my place

bin: i sleep there it's my home wdym

you: and you still pay the bills for your place?

bin: i don't make that bag for nothing

you: ok so what if we lived together instead

bin: but i really like your place!!

you: i do too

you: let's make it our place 

bin: shit

bin: i just actually blushed irl

you: :) 

you: is that a yes

bin: i want to marry you

you: okay well let's calm down

bin: did u just reject me

you: i'm telling u that you're gonna regret proposing through text

bin: i love u and i want u to be my wife

bin: omg i just shed a tear at the thought of calling u that

bin: wife…. im changing ur contact name

bin: or should i change it to fiancée? since we havent yet tied the knot

you: park wonbin

you: we are 20 years old

bin: untrue

bin: im 22 

you: i am not marrying you right now

bin: … is there someone else

you: i'm not marrying anyone right now

bin: ok so i'm not husband material

you: you are

bin: i'm not father material? you: no comment

you: but we aren't ready babe

you: let's take it slow k?

you: just move in first

you: we have so many memories to make

bin: you're such a flirt

you: ??? u just asked me to marry you but sure

bin: i'll be moved in by the time you come back home

you: i thought you were picking me up

bin: that was before u asked me to move in

bin: now i have to bring all my stuff over

bin: which side of your closet can i use? bin: also thoughts on letting me keep my rock collection next to your figurines?

you: right side and no

bin: wow u didnt even think about it

you: imagine we get into a fight

bin: i refuse to

you: i'm just saying i would be tempted to throw them rocks at u

bin: you would do that????

you: depending on what u do

bin: why are you expecting me to do anything at all????

you: …experience

bin: wow

you: to be loved is to be known

bin: you can't flatter me now

you: i love you 

bin: …

bin: i love you too

[tarjapearce]

Okay but…

Miguel’s on a mission, Gabi and Benji are out of the house, leaving mommy alone for some me time, that she spends with her hand down inside her panties.

She gets so into it, moaning and bucking (it’s been a bit since the two of them had done anything) that she doesn’t notice Miguel had entered the house….

Do with this information what you will

Well, yeah. Mama deserves a me time too 🥴🥴 Smut undercut. Lil bit of Dom! Miguel.

Times like these would suppose a relaxation period for you. You could go shopping, treat yourself with something, you deserved it. Being a mother wasn't exactly easy, and it was kinda rare when you had time for yourself cause one way or another, you'd be worrying over your role.

Miguel was at work, the kids were out. Gabi in her soccer practice, and Benjamin at Peter's playing with Mayday some board games. And you... You just sighed.

Boredom often lived in your head whenever you had nothing to do. You always needed to have your hands busy, house was already clean. An idea popped in your mind. Your feet took you to the bedroom, and you scourged through that special little drawer that hadn't seen the light in months.

Pulling out a key, you unlocked it, revealing neatly folded lingerie, along some little toys. A bullet like discreet vibrator, a couple of lubes, a small bdsm kit you still hadn't opened yet, since you wanted to use it with Miguel. And of course lingerie you still hadn't the confidence to wear.

But it was your chance. Since none was home, your clothes were discarded, and you tried the first one. Red Baby doll with an electric blue g string. It barely covered anything, and you could see your nipples through the red mesh fabric. Miguel said it was one of his favorites because of how bouncy your ass looked back in the dressing room.

Ah, your husband. You still wondered how such a fine and grumpy man had snatched you away for himself. He was hot, undoubtedly, but his way of carry on things were the actual spark that made you want him. The way cursing words flew out of his mouth in that rich spanish, made you swoon.

Thighs rubbed together upon you remembering how possessive and angry he was. How delicious his anger felt between your legs, how big he was to the point of you feeling he was swallowing your body like a black hole.

Your mouth sighed.

The next set was just a little butterfly thong with the crotch open, perfect for a good rile up. The butterfly design in the back cupped your ass gently. It was kind of curious and funny, how well he knew your body. Cause every set you tried just enhanced your body shape. Your nipples went hard at the sudden though of him, touching you, exploring your body, your hands trailing over where he would.

Light pieces of clothing rolling off thighs and torso. You laid on the middle of the bed, legs spreading, heat pooling at the soft caresses your hands delivered. God, you wished he'd be here. You'd certainly give him a show, but the only thing you could do was to wait for him to arrive home. Hands rubbed your inner thighs.

It was unavoidable to not think in that night, you liked when he was angry, cause his cock reached places you didn't know you could feel and get pleasure from. His hands had folded you in half, and you rubbed softly at your clit. Dragging slow lazy circles on it.

You loved every time he knocked the air out of your lungs, sheathing inside you, and stretching your insides, that as he said; were made specially for him.

Your legs trembled as your slit squished, slick in your need. One of your hands toyed with your breast, twirling your nipple between your fingers, as the other kept stimulating around your clit, teasing yourself. Just like Miguel would.

Whining, you smothered your legs together, edging yourself, trying to make it last. You breathed as heat spreaded through your body. If he was here, he'd be eating you out like a starved man.

But he wasn't.

Another needy whine. If he was here he'd surely be massaging your insides with his fingers, luring a wet orgasm from within. But again, He wasn't.

Your rubbings were desperate, your other hand squeezed your breast. But there was nothing that actually matched him. Not even the toys you had. Sure they were fun, but feeling him, going deep inside, his back flexing at the exertion, you scratching him, felt too real, too good and definitely you were needing it.

"Having fun?" The reason of your current desperate state leaned against the doorframe, watching with hazy eyes the scene unfolding before him.

"M-Miguel-"

"Shh. No te dengas." (Keep going)

He laid down, next to you, a look you knew all too well. He cupped your cheek softly and kissed your forehead.

"Hands off"

"But I'm-"

"Sin. Manos." (Hands off)

His tone firm, as he sat before you to take a better look of what he just provoked. Hands rested on your side, breathings erratic and needy. Legs weak

"That bad huh?" He shook his head with a smirk

"I need to..." You swallowed and tried to pull him to you, but he shook his head.

"No, no." You whined and plopped on your elbows, supporting your torso on them.

"Open up." He commanded and your hand went immediately on the outer folds, a little squish as you parted them with your fingers.

He hummed in approval. His thumb ghosting over your tiny bundle of nerves, but removed it before you could lift your hips and make any sort of contact, a smug smile in his lips

"Tócate" (Touch yourself)

Your nimble fingers stroked your own flesh, fast and a little too rough, trying to seek that heat you were melting into before he arrived.

"Hands off" You whined in frustration, but obeyed.

"Stop teasing!" Your voice at the verge of tears

A light slap on your soaked pussy shut you up, your hips bucked and you whimpered.

"Again. Touch yourself. Pero hazlo lento." ( Do it slowly)

The soft friction in your folds curled up your toes, fingertips dragged slow circles, his hands spreaded you a bit further, giving him a full view of you.

"Así, muy bien, preciosa." (Like that, very good)

You groaned, the pooling warmth spreaded through your body. Your free hand covered your mouth but he tapped it away.

"¿Quieres parar?" (You wanna stop?) You shook your head, fingers still caressing your clit. You had recognized the little threat in his tone.

"Then fucking do as you're told, open up. Need to hear you."

Your fingers left the caress away and once more you spreaded your flesh for him. He licked his lips at the sight. Your body trembled, the edging chipping your patience away. Two of his fingers dipped in, earning a shaky moan.

"M-Miguel!"

You croaked as he moved them ever slowly inside you. your hips bucking on his hand but he stopped.

"No." He warned and you stilled.

"Goddammit Miguel, please!"

Another light slap on your pussy, this one sent electric jolts through your legs as you sobbed.

"¿Qué te dije?" (What did I say?)

"No" You whispered, holding the sheets tightly, he was torturing.

"Again."

You shook your head and he frowned

"Uno" (One)

Still no hands on yourself.

"Dos" (Two)

Your hands went to your cunt again, he smirked

He guided your two fingers inside your pussy. The intrusion sending a little chill down your spine.

"Despacio" (Slow)

He warned as he pushed your fingers in and out, you followed, matching his speed. You cooed as he kissed your temple

"Un poco más rápido, preciosa" (A little faster)

His hot breath fanning over your ear and neck, your hand obeyed. The heat was on again, a knot forming in your lower belly. Moanings turned into breathless 'Oohs' and 'aahs' that escaped your lips at every chance they could

"Más adentro, mi amor." (Deeper, baby)

Your fingers were as deep as they could, reaching that sweet spot he loved bullying his cock into.

"No pares, preciosa" (Don't stop)

His voice didn't help. His lips nipping your earlobe, didn't help.

"Miguel" You voice an octave pitch higher. You were close. Breath caught on your throat as the imminent bliss loomed over you, stalking it's way to the brink.

"¿P-Puedo? ¿Por favor? " (Can I? Please?)

"Claro que sí, mi vida. Vente para mi." (Of course darling. Cum for me.)

Your spine finally arched as fire licked you raw. Your toes curled up, insides spasmed, you almost forgot how to breath for a moment. Fingers trapped in the contractions of your inner muscles, slowly releasing them. He licked them clean and then kissed you, a loving smile plastered in his face.

"Good girl."

[thatmexisaurusrex]

I think what really gets me is what the show is telling us through that breakup. That's what hurts the most.

It's that a queer person who's sad, who's alone, who's never had a stable family life; a queer person who's only gotten to a point where they're happy with who they are later in life; a queer person who yearns for a family, for love, for being someone's first choice but doesn't believe he can ever have those things; a queer person who has obviously been burned and believes that is the only outcome for him now; that no one would want him as family. That no one would love him enough to choose him first.

He walks out that door.

Alone. Scared. Spiraling. Reacting to trauma rather than Buck himself. It's seeing that and having the show tell us, yes, that's what he deserves. That's all he gets. He doesn't get a happy ending. He doesn't get good closure. He doesn't get to believe that someone wants him enough to fight for him.

Tommy was right all along.

All his fears were true and will be what he ends up with. Older queer people who want families and are scarred by their own past experiences don't get love or a family. They don't get a place to call home.

Then, you have Buck; Buck blindsided by the trauma; Buck seeing his entire six-month relationship fall apart and just letting it happen to himself again. Having yet another person in his life, in a moment of cowardice and pain, quietly and brokenly lash out that he couldn't believe Buck would actually take this seriously; that he couldn't believe that Buck would love him once the pedestal was gone and the shininess wore off. That, once again, Buck lets his relationship play out without any idea of how to be active in it. That someone Buck loves, that he thought about possibly marriage with one day, that he wants to live with, leaves him.

That Buck, once again, is abandoned.

That Buck can't know himself.

That the show wants to lean into lazy biphobic ideas and tell us, yes, that's what Buck deserves. The thriving relationship that he had crumbles within minutes because Buck doesn't get to be happy; how can he know what happiness is if he isn't playing the field? Because nothing he did before Tommy counted. Buck 1.0 didn't count. None of his previous relationships counted. Because they were all ladies, and how can you know if you've only been with one man?

Telling the audience that you can't be happy in a relationship if it's somehow a "first", despite everything pointing to the relationship being solid and good for Buck.

It is the worst possible scenario.

It is a nightmare for both Buck and Tommy.

Both messages are terrible for the audience.

There were so many ways they could have broken up and I would have been fine with it. I've talked about it before, but I was fine with Josh and Arnold breaking up in Please Like Me and I still love the show. I watched episodes with Josh and Arnold from Please Like Me as a comfort when I was reeling about this that first night! I was fine with Alexis and Ted breaking up on Schitt's Creek and I was still fine with the show. I was okay with Amelia and Kai breaking up and I'm still watching Grey's Anatomy. Because all of those breakups were understandable. They made sense. I can like couples and be okay with them not working out. And they're fictional. Fictional shit rarely hurts me, if ever. That's not my problem at all here.

It's how this happened. It's the message it signals to the audience. It's devastating. I'm still devastated by the choice. I've never felt this way about a breakup for two characters ever. The core of my grief and genuine hurt is what the show proves it believes in through this breakup. And that's what's hurt me.

[aspoetssay]

DOMESTIC COD CHARACTERS X GN!READER HEADCANONS alejandro, ghost, soap, price, valeria, rodolfo, könig, gaz

This comes from a request of an anon from my main account. Thank you so much for the request, anon! I thought that it was such a good idea that most of the characters deserve to have a few paragraphs! I hope you will like it!

warnings: curse words and tooth-rotting fluff.

ALEJANDRO VARGAS

Lazy Sundays are a must. As much as he is a passionate man, who loves to go exploring—sometimes the warmth of the bed and you make him feel so lazy. That man will whine, protest and create chaos if you’ll refuse to stay with him in bed and do nothing. A planned lunch with friends? Cancel it. In need of groceries? You’ll get order something. Just stay in bed with him if you don’t want to be suffocated in his arms.

Loves to prepare food but likes it too spicy. You can handle spice—but that man could easily get on the Hot Ones and not even shed a tear. For him, the seasoning is chilli peppers. The way you have to watch him like a hawk and force him not to put more spice into the stew - your doctor is already concerned about your health after you ate some stew he made—you almost ended up in the ER.

Loves it when you prepare him food. Yes, it’s not enough spicy for him, but he admires the variety of cuisines you can make. He won’t admit it, but the ravioli you make with mushrooms are to die for.

He isn’t much of a sweets-eating guy, but an occasional muffin goes well with a cup of coffee. His favourite are the triple chocolate muffins and once he almost burnt his hands because he tried to take the trays out of oven without the mittens. Your look was enough to scold him without any words being said.

Enjoys cuddling way too much. If you two are spending the evening together and watching a movie, you better know there isn’t any personal space between you two. Just try to scoot away from him. That man will give you the most hurt look you have ever seen, ready to give you the most dramatic monologue in Spanish that you don’t like him. His love language is touch—please be kind enough to kiss his insecurities away.

Has a garden in the backyard. Absolutely loves to grow his own vegetables and loves it when you are helping him. It’s the most domestic thing he does with you and it always makes him feel better. It puts his mind off the horrors he has to deal with in his job and just focuses on nourishing and growing something. A plus side for you—that man works in the garden without his shirt. And maybe that’s the reason why you’re so eager to help him.

Always will make you a warm bath when you are stressed. He isn’t the type of guy to threaten to hurt someone for making you stressed. He will more likely make sure you will feel better—a warm bath, fuzzy socks, a cup of tea and a cupcake. When it’s hard - he’ll listen to you, knowing just when and what to say to make you feel understood and better.

SIMON “GHOST” RILEY

That man is the definition of domestic. No mask around you, not a scent of gunpowder - nothing. When he is off the missions and with you - he is a different man. Not Lieutenant Ghost, but your Simon.

He really values quality time. Doing nothing with you, just being in the same room with you is relaxing. You couldn’t count how many times he has passed out into an hour-long nap just from how relaxed he was in your presence. He’d always wake up from a loud snore he’d produce, catching your giggle.

Not a very good cook, but he knows a few easy recipes that are divine. Somehow he manages to make an omelette so good that no other omelette compares—what the hell is he putting in there? In addition, he makes a hell of a good tea. It’s one of his love languages to just randomly get you a nice cup of tea without any words exchanged. Yet you know that the cup of warm liquid is his way of saying he loves you.

Loves working out with you. Especially after you two turned your garage into a working-out space. He was always very reserved and closed-up while working out because he usually did it among other soldiers, but with you it is fun! The way he puts you on his back when he is doing push-ups. The way he is looking at your ass without the care in the world when you are doing squats, just waiting to get his hands on your bum. When he’s working with you, he never wears a shirt—he loves seeing you getting distracted in your reps because he just flexed his muscles.

Enjoys reading anything. Some bullshit newspaper with dumb articles? He’s on it just so he could grumble like an old man that it was bullshit. Some gossip magazine you were reading? Hear him display annoyance over the Kardashian names. He loves reading Greek Mythology—it’s not complicated for him and he likes the way the hexameter flows in his mind. You could swear you heard him one night crying about Patroclus’ death, but you never mentioned it—

Big about back hugs. You making lunch? Back hug. You doing your skincare routine? His hands are around you and he is secretly waiting to be pampered as well. Only because of you he has a whole ass skincare routine because you were absolutely aghast once you heard that he washed his face a few times with dish soap.

Be sure that he loves cuddling. He’s very touch-starved and he needs reassurance about that. Can absolutely die when you kiss the top of his head or his forehead. Once, you scratched just the right spot on his scalp and you heard him purr—he gave you the look right there and then that if you’ll say a word - you’ll regret it. But you just continued scratching the spot and you confronted him later on—

Remember the way he loves taking naps? He loves napping with you even more! Especially when you are laying on him, already passed out. Once, he accidentally turned over in his sleep and squished you almost to death—it took quite some time for him to wake up and move away from you as you were just about to die. From then on, he’s always been a bit on guard while napping with you, but you always soothed him enough for him to drift off completely.

Not a fan of taking pictures, but you already have quite the collection in your drawer. Once you showed all of them, blabbering how perfect he looks and that was the first time you saw Simon flush. He was so overwhelmed with the compliments that he couldn’t handle them anymore. Grumbles and mumbles followed as he stormed out of the room and you were horribly sad that you didn’t have a camera back there to take a picture of his rosy cheeks.

JOHN “SOAP” MACTAVISH

Domestic Soap is a rare sight since he is quite the traveller and the chatter. He enjoys taking strolls with you, sightseeing, and travelling, but occasional evenings at home, doing nothing, are refreshing.

He loves to draw. He enjoys nothing more than sketching you when your attention is off to somewhere else - you always get too shy and too giddy when you notice that he is drawing you, so he does it secretly.

Once he gifted you a small sketchbook of sketches full of him and you. You started tearing up and he got seriously terrified—was he that bad at drawing? But once you clung onto his neck and expressed how talented he was, he was the one gulping down the tears. After that, you asked him to teach you how to draw—but then you quickly agreed that he should be the one sticking to it.

He is handy! Anything that needs to be fixed or changed will be done immediately. You don’t have to worry about flickering lights or getting new furniture since he can do it all himself! Yes, he does watch some tutorials on how to do something, but your garage is quickly filled with tons of tools and necessities for the household.

Shower time alone—what is that? You can be sure that once you even think about going to shower, that man will be already ready at the bathroom door. Once you were feeling too shy so you locked the door and he was whining like a lost puppy on the other side of the door. There was nothing more he loved than when you washed his Mohawk—even if he might seem like the 3in1 type of guy, he maintains a whole ass routine for his hair. You, taking care of it, means he trusts you.

Loves to watch reality shows with you. A little bit too invested in Too Hot To Handle, but he keeps on showing his concern when they keep breaking the rules. You always shut him up by asking if he’d manage to keep his hands off you, but he always says it is too different. And he boasts that his favourite couple always wins the money.

A big sucker for family celebrations. Can’t wait for Christmas or birthdays to gather with your or his family. He’s the type of person to make lame jokes around, but everyone loves him. He really is the star of any celebration except when it is another’s birthday. But most of it all, he loves to show you off to his family and friends. Can’t stop talking about you or giving you sweet looks. Couldn’t count on your fingers how many pictures you have where some aunty took a photo of you two—you laughing at his joke and him giving you heart eyes.

JOHN PRICE

Just like Simon, John is the definition of domestic as well. He loves having lazy mornings and lazy evenings as long as you are with him. If you tiptoe into the terrace while he is having his morning cigar and hug him from behind, that man will swoon instantly.

The one to bring you breakfast to your bed. He’s quite good at cooking and always surprises you with either an English Breakfast or something sweeter with a cup of tea of your liking. The presentation on the tray is always on spot—can do fabulous hearts on pancakes with Nutella.

Lets you take care of his beard. Now, listen—you see how well he takes care of his beard? It’s really important for him. You always eagerly help him to shave or to shape the beard, especially in the spots he can’t really see himself. There is just something about the way you sit on the bathroom counter, gently trimming his beard just the way he taught you.

Big on silly board games. Will absolutely crush you at Monopoly and Alias. Don’t even talk about any card games, because he might seem like he is an old man, but he quickly learns the rules and then no one can beat him. Every game night ends with you frowning and getting mad at him and him smugly saying that he will make it up to you.

Loves reading to you. Loves reading overall, but doesn’t spend much time doing so. That’s why, whenever you get on the couch into his arms with his book in your hand, he always smiles so widely that his cheeks start to burn. And when you admitted that his voice is the most pleasant thing you have ever heard—you can be sure that he will never deny your request to read for you out loud.

Big on dancing with you. Creating that cosy evening atmosphere when it is dark outside. When a stupid show is on the TV and he already goes to the Home Stereo and puts on some old, slow music, extending his hand to you. Either looking into your face or burying his nose into the crook of your neck while dancing—he just loves holding you close. Loves the way you giggle when he spins you around. Loves the way you wrap your arms around his neck and look him in the eyes.

Has a ridiculous amount of bucket hats. If it was up to him, he’d walk around the house you two share in them. But due to your protests, he only wears them outside. However, when you two are travelling and you put on his bucket hat to hide from the sunlight—that man is gone. Wherever you two are, you better hope your house or a hotel is close because he needs to show how much he loves you when you are wearing his hats.

VALERIA GARZA

It’s hard having Valeria over only for yourself. She is always not home. Always somewhere out there. Doing her business. Keeping you as far away from it as possible.

But some mornings, you would wake to find her all cuddled up to you—normally, Valeria would never admit that she loves cuddling up to you or being held by you. It was as if she always had to be on her guard, always to be superior and not show that she was quite fragile on the inside.

The way she would hum in pure ecstasy when you would pull her closer, gently stroke her hair because she knew well you won’t use the fact that she is without her guard against her.

You were the only person she shared her true smile with. No devilish grin, no mocking smiles—the first time you saw her truly smiling and her nose slightly scrunching - you were absolutely in heaven. You remember the way she absolutely demolished the pancakes you made one breakfast and the syrup was left around her mouth for you to kiss away. That’s when you received a smile from her and you knew it was only for you.

A big fan of your thighs. If you are sitting on the couch, watching TV, you better be sure that Valeria will lay her head on your thighs. You better put your hands to work and stroke her hair—make her time worth it.

Big on forehead kisses—there are countless forehead kisses you didn’t know about since she left in the middle of the night. She’d tuck you in, gently wrap herself away from your arms and kiss your forehead as if it was a butterfly’s touch. She’d admire you for a second—you were so beautiful.

Since she wasn’t home often, sometimes when she would come back - she’d find you waiting for her, drinking tea, doing some work on your laptop. She’d never specify when she is coming back, but it was as if you had a sixth sense for when she will come home. You better be sure that when she sees you late in the night, she will give you a kiss that will sweep you off your feet.

A whole different story is when you are sick. There wasn’t a time when you were sick and she wasn’t home. She was home all the time to take care of you. She’d spend restless nights just to make sure you were breathing and didn’t need something else. Your health was her priority - she couldn’t lose you.

At moments like these, she’d even show off her amazing cooking skills that only a sick state of you is allowed to see. She’d make you her grandmother’s stew which would make you feel better instantly, but you may or may not pretend to be sick just a tad bit longer so she would be beside you.

RODOLFO PARRA

This man does everything with you. He’s really big at doing chores together. Not only does he find that it’s far more efficient this way, but you two always make it far more fun than just swiping the dust—yes, the little dance breaks are a must.

Loves cooking with you. Anything really. Can be the sous-chef or can be the one giving you orders on what to do. It depends on which recipe you are making that day—if it’s yours, he will obey doing everything and if it’s his - he’ll let you do the easiest tasks because he doesn’t want to overwork you.

Definitely the golden retriever type of man so be prepared for his beautiful puppy eyes. He knows his power and he uses it against you. Just try to tell him no and face the way the consequences hit you on their own.

Always lets you have the last piece—I’m talking about anything. Last slice of pizza? It’s yours! Last piece of brownie? He’s already pushing it towards you. Last teabag of your favourite tea? Yours, yours and yours.

Really really big on hugs. Bear hugs precisely. Loves it when he can bury his nose into your neck and slightly squeeze you with his arms. The way your body fits in his always amazes him and he just can’t get enough of your warmth.

Always notices any changes you had. Went to the hairdresser? He will notice the one centimetre gone of your split ends. Changed your routine in makeup? Notices that you haven’t used that kind of eyeshadow before. Has all of the brands you used memorised and knows which product does what. Hell, he sometimes does your skincare or makeup for you.

Oddly good at handcrafting. If you are quite handsy with knitting, crocheting or sewing and you decide to show him how to do it, just know that he will quickly get the hang of it. He will even enjoy it and will never be ashamed to admit it. He thinks it’s amazing that you can create something with your hands and most of your gifts to each other quickly become something you two have made yourself.

KÖNIG

Domestic time with you means so much to him. Social anxiety can drain his energy and domestic time revives him. That doesn’t mean that you two don’t go out to have dinner or to watch a movie in the cinema, he just prefers to be home a bit more.

That man is a sucker for any romantic comedy. He will cry and laugh at any cliches and rewatch all of his favourite movies with you. If the couple is dancing in the rain, best know that he’s already looking at you with those eyes meaning that when it’ll rain - you two will be outside. Watching movies with you is relaxing - he knows you won’t judge the fact that he really isn’t into action or horror movies. His job puts him through enough. So romcom it is!

If you can sing or play any instrument, he’ll always listen to you do it. It’s very calming to him—hearing you practice, playing the chords wrong or hitting the wrong note always makes him smile. It feels refreshing to see you put your mind and soul into something so beautiful. Secretly, he takes some videos of you playing for him because he knows for sure that if you’d know he was filming you - you would stop playing.

Big on giving you massages. That man would do anything to get his hands on you, honestly… He enjoys the way you lean back to him when he gently kneads your shoulder blades. Please return the favor! If you want to put the giant man on his knees, a few gentle strokes down his back and he’s purring for you.

Really likes to colour with you those mandala colouring books. It might have seem silly at first, but you two are seated in the living room, only candlelight on the table as you two are colouring—one page for you and the other one for him. He always whines that he’s not able to choose the right colours, but always ends up with the most beautiful colour combinations making you rage out at him and poke his ribs. That man tends to doubt himself—praise him.

Likes to cocoon you into blankets and carry you around. No matter your protests, he will do whatever he pleases with you. Most of the time you just end up being placed on him during a movie, his lips buried at the top of your head and giving you small kisses.

If you take care of him of his fresh wounds, he will be very thankful for you. He never wants to make you worry, but with his size on the battlefield, he sometimes gets clumsy from the adrenaline overload. He appreciates how soft you are tending to him, placing kisses over scars and new bruises. Of course, after that, he receives a flick on his forehead from making you worry.

Big on asking random questions in the middle of the night. Just as you are about to fall asleep, comfortably wrapped in his arms, he’ll hit you with: “How many stomachs do cows have again?” The question makes you groan: “Four, my love, please sleep.” But that never shuts him up—then he will be concerned about the fact that you know the answer, and then he will google it and see some pictures that will traumatise him.

KYLE “GAZ” GARRICK

Loves to play video games with you. Yes, he is competitive most of the time, but if you are playing somewhere you two are in a team against others—you better know that he’ll protect you even in the game and praise you when you do a perfect headshot.

Despite him being a very outgoing partner, he sometimes needs quiet days. You know exactly when to give him his space and when to approach him with a cup of tea. He really appreciates the way you can read him as an open book.

Once you gifted him a huge set of Lego - Hogwarts edition and you saw his eyes sparkle like two shiny stars. He was seated all night putting it together and when he was finished, he was waking you up at four in the morning, getting you to the living room where the glory of his was standing. You swore you never have seen him smile like that.

Making sweets with him is quite frustrating. Because in 9 of 10 cases you end up with clothes dusted in flour or chocolate running down your nose—he’s playful. He’d do anything to make you squeal or laugh from the bottom of your heart. As an act of revenge, you always eat the last piece of cake you two have made together right in front of his face. Especially when he is already reaching for it.

Big on taking naps at a random time of the day—before going to sleep, he will kick up his legs on the coffee table and snooze out for ten minutes before joining you in bed. Likes it, even more, when you are the one to wake him up, but that ends up with you being on his lap, his lips peppering your body with small kisses while he is gently tickling you.

[jishyucks]

Desk Deliveries — ljn

‣ pairing: lee jeno x reader

‣ genre: fluff, implied f2l/coworkers-to-lovers, secret admirer au, office!au

‣ wc: 5.6k

‣ summary: When gifts start appearing on your work desk on December 1st, you have no choice but to hunt down the man who’s been planting them. And with only 7 men on the floor, this shouldn’t be difficult… Right?

‣ warnings: nothing really?, cliche-ish ending, a lot of dialogue (I gotta get this story goingggg)

‣ an: jeno’s wooooo, honestly easier to write than I thought but it’s wayyyy longer than I wanted it to be (I keep underestimating? myself), I just hope it’s up to my own standards lmaooo, but hopefully u guys enjoy!

Series Masterlist

DECEMBER 1

Desk Delivery!

Starting today, consider your desk a treasure trove of surprises.

‘Tis the season of giving, after all, and your radiant presence in the office deserves to be celebrated.

Each gift is carefully chosen, a small reflection of the little things I love about you. I hope they bring a smile to your face and add a sprinkle of magic to your December days.

Stay curious, 

Your Secret Admirer (or would Secret Santa fit the season?)

You almost laugh out loud, blinking at the note sitting on your desk. This must be a joke, right? 

“What is that?” Karina digs her chin into your shoulder, reading the note from behind you.

“Some joke,” you reply, letting her pluck the card from your fingertips. 

She pouts, “But it’s cute!”

“I didn’t say it wasn’t,” you counter, taking the card back.

“I just don’t believe it’s real.”

DECEMBER 3

Today, you arrive at the office greeted with a small, neatly wrapped cube on your desk and you’re beginning to think that the message you were given on the 1st wasn’t a joke and that, whoever it was, was being serious.

You glance around the office to see if any of your coworkers were present, but you seemed to be the first one there. Your brows furrow, carefully sliding the box toward you before ripping the wrapping paper. 

You use your office scissors to slice the tape open, and then once you are sure you can open the box to see what was in it, you take a deep breath in. You push the box away from you so it’s at arm’s length, afraid that something was going to pop out when you lift the flaps open. Counting to three in your head, you ready your fingers to lift the covers after the third count.

Fully expecting there to be fake snakes of some sort, you were met with nothing (thankfully). You pull the box back and peek in to find a mug and a card. Your brows furrow, pulling the card out first. 

I know how much you love that mug of yours, Y/N…

But it’s time to retire that broken one.

Got you a new one. Hope you like it! 

Your Secret Admirer 

You can’t help but giggle at the tone of the writer, placing the card down before going for the mug. You’ve been teased maybe once or twice for using a mug with no handle, mostly because you’ve been complaining about how the edges of the glass edges left behind by the absent handles had been poking at your palm.

Carefully, you fish the cup out of the box, making sure you won’t drop and shatter the present before you can even use it, and you use your other hand to pull the box off. And when you finally get a good look at the mug, you laugh out loud, bringing it up to eye level to get a good look at it. 

It was the exact same mug you already have been using, the only difference was that this one actually had a handle.

You were so caught up in your present that you didn't notice Karina approaching you, “Morning, smiley face.”

“Huh?” you blink at her, confused.

“I would take a picture of you right now, but I’m too lazy,” she huffs, “But you’re smiling like a child on Christmas Day.” Karina blatantly points at your face, “Who’s got you smiling like that?”

You shrug but gesture to the card and the mug, “I don’t think that first one was a joke…”

DECEMBER 4

“Hey! Hey, Y/N!” 

You hear someone call your name, but you don’t actually hear it. It was sort of like background noise to your thoughts, entering one ear and leaving the other. 

“Y/N! Hey!” 

Then, you feel something rough hit the side of your face and you realize that Karina was peeking over the wall of her cubicle and into yours.

“What the fuck do you want!” you whisper. You pick up the balled-up scrap paper she had thrown before throwing it back to her, “I’m trying to work!” 

She dodges the ball with ease, head briefly disappearing then reappearing, “Do you have any candidates for who your secret admirer could be?” 

Karina was speaking a little bit too loud for your liking, so you gestured for her to come closer. She doesn’t hesitate to leave her workspace to enter yours, sitting down on an empty spot on your desk, “So? Candidates?”

You shake your head, “Barely. I was only able to pick out that the writing is a guy’s writing because the girls have neat writing… Other than that, I have nothing.” 

The two letters sitting on your desk were your only explicit clues. Then, you had the thing with the mug, but everyone knew of your broken mug. So really, it was just the handwriting that you had as insight. 

“Okay, so it’s a guy…” Karina hums. She stretches her neck to glance around the office, “And there’s only like… seven? It wouldn’t be difficult to eliminate some of them.” She picks up your two cards to examine the cards. You can see her eyes move back and forth between the letters, pressing her lips into a thin line. “It’s not Renjun.” 

“Huh? How do you know that?” 

“He handwrites,” Karina states, “Like straight-up longhand writing. So it’s not him.” 

“How do you know he’s not just changing up his writing so it’s not obvious?” you narrow your eyes. 

Karina laughs, “Okay, you have a point, but let’s just say that he’s out temporarily, to make it easier on us. In the case that everyone else is out, then it’s Renjun.” 

You don’t notice the way your face scrunches up, your facial features pushing in toward your nose. 

“Hey, what’s with the face?” Karina’s head tilts to the side. It takes a beat and a half before she realizes, “Wait, you don’t want it to be Renjun, do you?” 

You don’t answer, mostly because you didn’t want to outright say that you didn’t want Renjun to be your admirer—no offense to him. Renjun was a great guy, but he wasn’t someone who you saw yourself being with. And if you were to actually build a relationship with this person, you didn’t want it to be Renjun. 

An all-knowing smirk appears on Karina’s face, “Then who do you want it to be?” 

You want to throw a punch at Karina’s knee, but you remember you are still in the workplace and you need to keep it (at least a little bit) professional. “Fuck you, you already know the answer to that.” 

Jeno, Karina thinks.

“Of course you want it to be him,” Karina puts the cards back down, “I should have known. You’re down bad for that man.” 

Karina wasn’t wrong. You and Jeno go way back to your internship days, and your (hopeless) crush on him has been there since then. 

“Down bad for who?” 

From seemingly out of nowhere, Chenle appears at the corner of your cubicle, leaning against it as he takes a sip of his coffee. And of course, wherever Chenle was, Jisung followed, standing right next to the former. 

“Uh, that-that one actor!” you lie in a panic, “From that one show!”

“You suck at lying,” Chenle snorts, “You could have at least named someone. It could have been Nam Joohyuk for all I care.” 

“It’s not you guys if that’s what you’re thinking,” Karina snickers, “Sorry, boys.” 

Jisung and Chenle burst out laughing, almost comically in sync. They even threw in a high-five, though it was out of habit. “No offense, Y/N, but I don’t see you in that light.” Chenle is practically in tears. 

“No offense, Chenle, but I don’t either,” you reply, “Now can you guys please leave my space or I’m reporting you guys to Taeyong.” And that sends them away because it wasn’t the first time they’ve been reported.

“Okay so we can scratch those two off the list,” Karina concludes. 

And you nod. 

So far, so good. This should be easy.

DECEMBER 8

Okay, it wasn’t as easy as you thought. 

All your interactions with the other guys were normal. None of them seemed suspicious enough for you to star, nor did any of them do anything that ruled themselves off your list, and you had to admit, it was frustrating. 

Of all the boys, the most suspicious was Jaemin, who snickered every time he passed your desk. But when you mentioned this to Karina, Karina pointed out that Jaemin was like that in general, always up to his own shenanigans like Donghyuck was. 

“That or he knows something,” Karina thinks, “We should ask him.” 

It was nearing the end of the day and you and Karina were sitting at one of the open tables by the floor’s wall of windows, mugs in hand while you carefully eyed the boys of the department. 

Karina’s about to walk up to Jaemin when you stop her, pinching her blouse to keep her from leaving, “I don’t think Jaemin’s stupid enough to spill anything if we ask. We have to make it subtle.” 

“Subtle, how?” 

You shrug, “Just subtle.”

“Subtle, how?” Karina repeats. 

You want to bonk her in the head, “I guess pretend like you don’t really care, maybe say you think it’s Renjun or something and see what he says.”

Let’s say Jaemin really did know who your admirer was. If Karina were to think it was someone else, she could note the way Jaemin would react to her guesses and you both can go from there. 

You shoo her away and let her do her thing, staying back to pretend you were watching cars drive past down below. 

In 8 days, the only clues you were able to gather included the fact that he was a boy, he worked on this floor (the mug thing), he liked to end his J’s in loop de loops, and there was always some type of water or coffee stain on the cards. 

The last clue was something you and Karina had just recently discovered, simply because the first few cards were wrinkled in the slightest with water, while the most recent one, today's, had been stained with a drop of coffee. 

You’re not sure if these were purposeful or accidental, but nonetheless, you and Karina took any details as clues, hoping that it would lead to a conclusion.

“You haven’t blinked for a while.” 

“Shit, I didn’t hear you come,” you greet Jeno with an awkward smile, shifting your weight from one leg to the other, “I was just deep in thought.” 

Jeno’s eyes disappear when he smiles and your stomach does that thing it does when he does so. It’s so stupid how you’re feeling like a giddy high schooler around this man, but you’ll defend yourself any day and blame him for everything. 

“Is it about your secret admirer?” Jeno questions. He’s facing the window and you’re facing him. You can see him peeking at you through the corner of his eye and he’s smiling teasingly.

Your eyes widen, “Wait, how do you know about that?” You haven’t told anyone but Karina, Chenle, and Jisung, the last two only earning the information for being the most persistent duo on the planet. 

“Word gets around,” he shrugs, “And I pass your desk to and from the elevator.” 

You’re guessing the two younger boys had let it slip out but you disregard them for now, “Oh… right…”

“So, what about him?” Jeno questions. 

“Just… I don’t know who it is….” 

Jeno turns to you and you’re taken aback by how tired he looks. Sure, everyone in this damn office repped the good ‘ol panda eyes, but Jeno’s hair was a bit dishevelled, eyes half closed from fatigue. You choose not to point it out. 

Jeno’s words register in your head and your brows furrow, “Wait… how do you know they’re a he? I didn’t say anything about him unless…” You don’t quite notice the way Jeno freezes up only because he wasn’t moving much beforehand. “Unless you know who he is!”

Jeno shakes his head, “Jisung told me!”

“I didn’t tell Jisung anything.” “You probably told Karina who told Chenle who told Jisung!” At this point, Jeno’s heart is beating at an erratically fast pace and he’s about to panic until Karina returns. She’s pouting, a tinge of disappointment evident on her face and Jeno takes this as his chance to escape.

“What did Jaemin say?” Your attention is easily pulled away from your friend, “Did he say anything?”

“No,” Karina grumbles, “I accidentally let it slip out that this was about your admirer and all he said was, 'Secret admirer, huh? Wouldn't you like to know.'” Karina mocks Jaemin’s voice, rolling her eyes. “But I guess that just proves that he knows something… it’ll just be harder to get it out of him.” 

“Jeno’s being suspicious now, too,” you nod your head to the boy. 

Sure it could be implied that your admirer was one of the guys, but the way the man had handled your questions was definitely something to take note of. 

DECEMBER 10

“Please tell me you’ll be leaving after you finish this?” Another one of your coworkers, Minjeong, was standing at the edge of your cubicle, leaning against the divider. You can tell she’s ready to leave, hands stuffed deep into her pockets, “Everyone’s left besides Mr. Jo.” 

Mr. Jo was the custodian.

“I will, I promise.” You don’t even look up from your screen, waving your hand in her direction as if it would make her scurry away, “I’m almost done. Have a good night, Jeongie!” 

She returns your farewell and leaves, knowing that you won’t budge until you finish your task. 

You genuinely were near completion. You just had a few more points in the report to finish before you reached your goal for tonight and you’ll go home. 

Your fingers are flying across your keyboard, fatigued eyes blinking at the words you were producing in hopes that they were coherent. Your brain had shut down an hour ago and now you were on autopilot.

Who cares if it’s coherent if I’m going to edit it anyway? You think. And now you were carelessly typing, making typos left and right. 

When you finally finish the draft, you grab your mug from your coaster to put in the office’s sink. Your eyes finally catch a break from staring at the screen for so long, practically feeling your ocular muscles relax. Closing your eyes, you blindly make your way down the pathway, which honestly was easy after the amount of times you’ve made your way down it.

But when your feet hit something that was obviously not as hard as a cubicle wall you freeze. 

Shit. 

Your eyes fly open and quickly look at what you have unintentionally kicked. 

“Jeno?” You blink your eyes a couple times to make sure you aren’t just seeing things.

Sprawled out on his desk was Jeno, fast asleep. There was a small pond of drool underneath his cheek, mouth hanging open. You couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Jeno.” You feel the need to whisper now, leaning over to shake his shoulder. “Jeno!” 

He begins to stir, “Huh? Wha?” 

“What are you still doing here?” you ask. 

One eye stuck closed, he glances around the empty office. The side that he had been lying on was flat as if he had been in that position for a while. Jeno yawns and stretches, his back popping a little as he sits up. 

"I was waiting for you to finish," he mumbles, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands.

You glance at the clock on his computer screen, realizing it's much later than you thought. "Jeno, it's getting late. You didn’t need to wait for me."

He shrugs, a sleepy smile on his face. "I didn't want you to go home alone in the dark. Plus, I figured you might need some company." 

You hit him on the shoulder, “You dumbass!”

Jeno winces even though you didn’t even hit him too hard. “Ow!” 

“I didn’t even know you were here! Dumbass!” You throw another thwack at his shoulder blade, “You’re lucky I tripped over your foot!” Jeno ignores you and starts getting up, pulling out his packed bag underneath his desk, “You should’ve told me you were gonna wait for me.”

“Yeah, but then you would’ve pushed me onto the elevator so that I could leave,” Jeno replies. "Ready to head home?"

Although you and Jeno don’t live anywhere near each other, your place was on the way to his. Usually, you’d walk home and go sightseeing as you walked past the small shops on the way, but because the weather could freeze your arteries shut, you’re forced to transit home. 

"Sure, let's go." You pack up your things quickly, and the two of you head towards the elevator.

As you wait for the elevator doors to open, you glance at Jeno. His eyes are still a bit heavy with sleep, but there's a warmth in them that makes your heart flutter. When he notices you looking, he tightens his lips to give you a tired grin that reaches his eyes. The office is quiet now, only the hum of the elevator breaking the silence.

Once inside, Jeno presses the button for the ground floor, and the elevator starts its descent. The dim lighting casts a soft glow on both of you, and you can't help but appreciate the peaceful moment.

"Long day, huh?" Jeno breaks the silence, his tone sympathetic. “Your secret admirer mystery still bothering you?"

You chuckle and nod, "Yes. But it just makes me more determined to figure it out."

"Any progress?" Jeno raises an eyebrow, curious.

You shake your head, "Not really. It's driving me crazy." 

"Maybe it's someone you least expect," Jeno suggests with a playful smile.

"Maybe," you reply, unsure. The elevator doors open, and you both step out and into the nearly empty office lobby. Then you think out loud, eyes narrowing as you look at Jeno through your lashes, “Maybe it’s you.” 

The cold wind hits you as you exit the building, making you shiver. You pull your coat tighter around you, and Jeno does the same. 

“Why? Do you want it to be me?” Jeno smirks playfully. 

“I don’t know,” you lie, “I’m just asking because there’s a possibility it’s you. Besides Chenle and Jisung, you’re the only one willingly asking about him.” That really couldn’t even mean anything, but it’s suspicious. You’re starting to think this was a joke set up by all the guys, and you’re the target.

“Nope, it’s not me,” Jeno stares ahead of you both, and you miss the way he swallows his spit when he says it, “And I don’t know who it is either. That’s why I’m asking.”

You look at him to detect if Jeno was lying—maybe a nose twitch, multiple blinks, or a dishonest glance to the side—nothing. 

You feel your heart skip a beat, and not in the way you liked. Because, sure, you didn’t care about who this person was, but for the past week and a half, you’ve been raising your hopes that it was Jeno who had been leaving these presents for you. 

You realize that that was a mistake. 

A weak laugh shoots out your mouth, almost sounding like a huff and you force a smile on your face, “Well… that’s a relief.”

DECEMBER 15

Losing a bit of interest in your admirer just because it wasn’t the person you wanted it to be wasn’t fair to your actual admirer. Especially when they were still putting the effort into dropping off those presents and writing those letters.

The day after, you had told Karina that Jeno made it clear that your admirer wasn’t him and she refused to believe it, delusion taking over for your sake. She said something along the lines of ‘can’t say it’s not Jeno until there’s solid proof’. 

This morning you decided to switch up your strategy and arrive at work early. For the past 2 weeks, these little deliveries had appeared on your desk either after you left or before you arrived, and since you had kept track of who left the office yesterday evening, you were sure that he was going to be coming in early this morning to leave his present. 

You greet the security guard in the lobby, leaving your mouth more as a yawn than an actual sentence before you hop onto the elevator and cross your fingers for luck. 

The office is quiet and dimly lit as you enter, the only sound being the gears of the elevators turning as the doors slide open. Once you step out, you’re quick to scan the room before ultimately settling your gaze on your desk. 

The universe couldn’t have timed this any better.

Standing at your desk, you see a figure, gently placing a wrapped box on your desk. You hold back a gasp, clamping your mouth shut with your palm, not wanting to bring attention to yourself. The man appeared oblivious to the elevator letting someone off, his back still turned to you.

You catch the sound of his satisfied hum, and just before he pivots, you quickly move to a concealed hallway, keeping yourself out of sight. A lingering fear holds you back from confronting whoever this person is, but you so badly want to know who it is. You figured it would make the confronting part easier. 

Footsteps grow closer before they stop, and you can easily guess he’s standing in front of the elevators. With curiosity getting the best of you, you risk being seen and lean your head around the corner, just enough so that one of your eyes can see who the boy was. 

Another gasp attempts to leave your mouth when you finally recognize who it was. 

Jaemin?

The elevator arrives at your floor before you can even process that it was truly him you just saw, almost as if you’ve seen his ghost and he was gone before you knew it. 

So your secret admirer was Na Jaemin? 

In a way it made sense. You and Karina had ruled him as one of the more suspicious ones. He and Jeno were close, so Jeno being curious about your progress added up. Now you have solid proof that Jaemin actually was your secret admirer.

How were you going to let him down easily?

DECEMBER 19

Despite having the weekend and Karina's assistance to strategize how to break the news to Jaemin, you found yourself at work on Monday without a clear plan. Today, you mentally braced yourself for another gift, feeling a pang of guilt as you realized your friend and coworker had been investing so much effort, only for his feelings to not be returned.

Today’s box was slim and rectangular, wrapped in the paper you’ve grown familiar with. At first glance, it looked like a wine box, but you quickly deemed it too short to be a wine bottle. 

With a bit of hesitation, you carefully pick at the paper, ripping it open before you slice the tape that was keeping the box closed. Then you pry the box open, flipping the flaps over so that you can see the item from a bird’s eye view.

Huh?

You pull it out—an umbrella in your favourite colour. On the handle, your initials are engraved into the plastic. The umbrella looked beautiful, but considering the other presents, this was… random. 

Your eyes catch sight of a card at the bottom of the box and you stick your arm in to fish it out. 

I bet you’re curious as to who I am, right?

I think I kept you waiting far too long for a hint.

A hint?

Your heart picks up its pace and your eyes scramble to keep reading.

Today’s gift? An umbrella.

Bought one for myself and one for you because we need to be prepared next time.

I don’t know about you, but I didn’t enjoy being drenched in rain at work. 

Your Secret Admirer

A hint.

Hell, it was more than a hint.

Your eyes grow wide as you reread the note over and over, your heartbeat fluttering. It flutters because you know exactly what your admirer was talking about. 

Back during the rainy season, the morning you were getting ready for work, you completely disregarded the weather forecast and left your house without an umbrella or an appropriate coat. And much to your stupidity, you told yourself that it wasn’t going to rain that hard when you heeded the darker clouds in the sky. 

You realized your mistakes on the walk to work when rain started pouring down from the sky, like someone dumping a bucket of rainwater all over you. You were sprinting, sight impaired by the rain pelting your face, flying past other individuals who had been smart enough to pack heavy-duty umbrellas with them. 

Luckily, you finally arrived at your building before you were wet to the bone. When you noticed the elevator was still open, you called out for it, fast-walking through the lobby just so you could catch it. 

“Thanks,” you had sighed out, huffing in relief. 

The man who had held the elevator open for you laughed and spoke up, “I take it you forgot an umbrella too?” 

You laugh at the memory, remembering being thankful that you weren’t the only dumbass who didn’t bring an umbrella—that you weren’t going to be the only one on the floor who would be showing up soaked and dripping wet.

Because Jeno was that other dumbass. 

Even with this realization, with this hard evidence that your admirer could actually be Jeno, you still recount your almost-encounter with Jaemin and the fact that Jeno had denied your accusations. 

You find yourself caught in a web of conflicting emotions. On one hand, the thoughtful gesture of the umbrella brings back memories of that rainy morning with Jeno. On the other hand, the recent revelation and Jeno's denial cast a shadow of doubt on the identity of your secret admirer.

As you stand there, staring at the umbrella, your brain cells are desperately trying to think up a good explanation for all of this. The evidence seems to point to Jeno, yet you can't ignore the possibility that this might be an elaborate misdirection. Or maybe Jaemin was the misdirection?

Your thoughts are interrupted by the familiar voice of Karina, who has just gotten off the elevator. She notices the umbrella in your hands and grins, "Mr. Admirer? An umbrella?"

You manage a half-smile, the weight of the situation pressing on you. "It’s a hint. There’s a memory tied to it.”

Karina arches an eyebrow, intrigued. "Memory?"

You decide to share the story of that rainy morning with Jeno, how both of you got caught in the downpour without umbrellas. As you recount the details, Karina listens attentively, connecting the dots between the past and the present. 

"So, you think Jeno might be your secret admirer because of this shared memory?" she asks, thoughtful. The way her expression brightens at the thought of your admirer actually being Jeno and not Jaemin—just like you wanted.

You shrug, uncertain. "It makes sense, right? But then there's the whole denial part. He flat-out said it's not him."

Karina leans against the reception desk, crossing her arms. "He probably just didn’t want you to find out like that. Maybe he's trying to surprise you later. Who knows?"

You sigh, feeling a mix of frustration and curiosity. "I just want to know. I’m this close to banging my head against the corner of my desk." 

Karina snorts and nudges you playfully. "Confront him again but this time, give him no choice but to confess."

You consider Karina's suggestion, realizing that confronting Jeno might be the only way to unravel this mystery. Gathering your resolve, you decide to have a direct conversation with him, determined to get to the bottom of your secret admirer's identity.

DECEMBER 20

Who would’ve thought that confronting your secret admirer would be nerve-wracking? Cause what if it really wasn’t Jeno and you were making a fool out of yourself?

It’s your break and you’re sitting at one of the lounge tables with Karina and Minjeong, playing with the edge of your instant ramen cup. 

You’re replaying how you want the situation to go down in your head. You want to go up to him, make small talk, he small talks back, you confront him, and he admits it—easier said than done. But your goal was to do it by the end of the day, mostly because you know that if you kept this going for any longer, you’d actually go crazy.

Minjeong and Karina are talking about something, you’re not quite sure what it was when Ningning joins in, “Did Giselle pass by?” 

Karina shakes her head, “Haven’t seen her.” 

Ningning pouts, “I was going to ask her someth—”

And again, you tune them out—not on purpose.

The voice in your head is screaming Jeno repeatedly and it’s driving you insane. You want it to stop, but the only way you can do so is by confronting him.

Then the door opens again and in comes Jeno and Jaemin, laughing about something Donghyuck and Mark related. Karina notices the way your eyes divert toward their direction and she tries to catch your attention, jerking her head in their direction. Eyes widening, you shake your head as if you were saying not now.

“Shit, I got coffee on my shirt,” you hear Jeno huff. 

From where you were sitting, you could see Jeno turning to show Jaemin the coffee stain on his white shirt, pouting. Jaemin laughs, “That’s what you get for using a broken bottle. Just buy a new one.” 

Jeno pouts, “You buy one for me, then.” 

At first, you don’t pay attention to their conversation, passing it off as the usual banter between the two, but then it clicks. Your mouth speaks before you can even process everything, “It’s you!” 

The room grows silent but, frankly, you don’t care because now you’re sure it was Jeno. 

Other than the umbrella and the memory, the only other hint other than handwriting were the water and coffee stains that the cards were always covered in (and you and Karina were still unsure whether that was on purpose or not). 

Jeno’s bottle was broken. 

You rise abruptly, the chair screeching against the floor. Rounding the tables, you navigate toward to get to Jeno, heart beating against your rib cage. Once he is within your reach, you snatch him by the wrist and drag him out of the lounge room and into the hallway. 

“Dumbass!” you smack his shoulder, “It was you! Liar!” You weren’t angry, in fact, you were laughing, disbelief etched on your face.

Jeno looks off to the side, “I… don’t know what you’re talking about…” He’s horribly holding a smile back, cheekbones growing prominent from his attempt. 

“Don’t play dumb,” you say, “The umbrella hint was enough for me to know it was you!” 

Jeno unleashes his smile, physically shrinking and lowering his head as his cheeks grow hot from your statement. “I didn’t think you’d remember it that easily…”

"You've been driving me insane, you know that?" You shake your head, still processing the revelation. "I even thought it was Jaemin for a bit. All this time, it was you!"

“Did you… want it to be Jaemin?” 

You shake your head, “Honestly, I was relieved it was you… no offense to Jaemin. Why didn’t you admit to it when I asked you?”

“Probably a similar reason for why you said ‘that’s a relief’ when I said it wasn’t me,” Jeno counters, slowly regaining his confidence. 

You chuckle, realizing the playful banter unfolding between you and Jeno. "Good point."

He grins, "Plus, watching you try to figure it out was entertaining." There’s a mischievous glint in Jeno’s eyes as he's holding back a smile.

You cross your arms, glaring up at him, "So you enjoyed torturing me?" 

Jeno panics slightly, shaking his head, "No! It’s not like I was torturing you! It was just something fun! I liked seeing your reactions!"

You playfully roll your eyes. "You're lucky I like you."

Jeno freezes, “Wait, you like me like me?” 

You look at Jeno as if he just said the dumbest shit that’s ever come out of someone’s mouth. “Lee Jeno, I literally told you I was relieved it was you and you think I don’t have feelings for you?” You want to smack him again.

“Yes?”

Smack.

“Ow!” Jeno rubs his arm and frowns. 

“Of course I like you!” You’re looking up at Jeno, “I was working my ass off trying to figure out who my admirer was because I had hopes that it was you!”

Jeno's eyes widen with surprise, and then a broad grin stretches across his face. "You... really?" he stammers, almost disbelieving, “So would… this be the right time to ask you on a date?” 

You stuck out your bottom lip and shrug, half-joking, “I mean… it’s the least you can do after putting me through all that.” 

“You’re right,” Jeno laughs. He takes a step closer, looking down at you with the world’s prettiest smile, “So will you?”

“Will I, what?” you tease, staring back up at him.

“Will you go out with me?”

taglist: @tytrackfebreze @lovesuhng @hoonieji @niinjo @dinonuguaegi @reignessance

an: the answer is yes 👀,,, Felix's is up next and it's gonna be cute

[helplesslypurple77]

Day 3-Fukuzawa/Reader w/ Lingerie and Wedding Night

Notes: btw the lingerie im describing is the Lorna Lace collection in white. It's super pretty you should google it. Haha lol, and i also realized halfway through writing this that this is technically a rich CEO au, jumping on the hype train i guess

I actually have a healthy relationship with my father, but like any good woman i have a weakness for sexy middle aged men

You had always known this would happen. It was the oldest daughter's duty to marry a man and carry on the family line. This was the fact that had been drilled into your head since you could walk. A girl could not inherit the daily company no, that duty went to the male children, no matter how dumb they were. And you had accepted it as well. It's not like you liked it or anything, in fact you thought the entire rule was old fashioned and doomed to fail, but there really wasn't much choice in the matter.

And you weren't too unhappy, you yourself didn't want to run the company, but your second sister deserved to, not your arrogant, lazy brothers. Second sister had worked hard all her life, was intelligent and beautiful and kind and deserved to inherit the company over the men. Everyone knew it, the servants whispered and gossip was prevalent around high society, but father refused, so intent on tradition that he doomed the company to fail. All you wanted in life was to live a comfortable life with a handsome man who treated you with respect, and maybe have a child or two.

So that's why you were here, a newlywed woman to a man twenty years your senior, sold off like cattle with no choice in the matter. You had never even seen your new husband. The marriage talks had happened without your input obviously and the ceremony was shot down by your father who, ‘didn't want to waste resources on a stuffy event like that.’ All you had were rumors, for your new husband did not like public appearances, and there were suspiciously few photos of him.

Yukichi Fukuzawa, the president of ADA corp, and a man of high social standing and wealth. He was forty-five, apparently a ‘highly upstanding person from a highly reputable background,’ and very wealthy. And also your new husband. You supposed you were lucky to ‘score’ such a highly sought after man, even if he was a lot older than you but you had at least hoped to marry a man closer to you in age. But if you were lucky he would leave you to your own devices and let you live your life happy, if a little lonely.

A knock sounded and second sister peaked her head in, sending you a smile. You relaxed, sinking back onto the soft silk of the bed you were sitting on, and shot her a nervous smile. She slipped inside, closing the door behind her.

Second sister Helena was tall, and with her long golden hair and blue eyes she could have easily been mistaken for a model. She looked nothing like you, and it made sense, given that you had different mothers. Father had sired each of his children with a different woman in an effort to create the perfect male heir. And because father was a man of high standing many women were lining up for the chance to have a child support check. And of course, he picked only the most attractive women. Second sister’s mother was a Swedish runway model, while yours had been a movie actress. Your brother's mothers were also varied, from models to actresses to intellectuals, all with stunning looks and the brains to match. Your father might be a douchebag but his theory held water, all the children of your family were stunning beauties, and all intelligent as well.

She came to sit next to you on the bed, and passed a small box in your direction with an apologetic smile. “I missed your twenty-fifth birthday sis, so here.” You shoot her a grateful thanks, fingering the box in your lap. It's small, maybe five inches and perfectly square, wrapped in colorful polka dot paper. You carefully slip the sides open, trying not to make a mess. Your sister giggles beside you.

“You wanna hear something funny?” You stop, raising an eyebrow in her direction. Whenever that line excites your sister's mouth, she's usually talking about one of two things. Boys, or the most horrific thing you can think of. You'll never forget the one time she preceded that one line by telling you most gleefully that her ex boyfriend had ‘accidentally’ gotten run over then lit on fire then drowned in the ocean. She glares balefully at your expression. “What…it's nothing bad. I met your new husband, and girl,” She pauses, wiggling her eyebrows excitedly. “He's such a dilf! I'm so happy for you!”

It's about now when you get the paper off the present, and see the pink box with black letters scrawled across it that say , ‘Agent Provocateur’ in a pretty curly font. You choke on your spit, and start coughing violently. Your sister pounds you on the back in good spirits. When you finally finish your coughing fit, you turn to her with a bemused smile on your face. “I dont no weather to hit you or hug you, Helena.” She smiles. “Open it.” She says, excitement all over her face. “I just know you're going to love it.”

You do as she instructs, and from within the crinkly tissue paper you pull the naughty treasure inside. You shake your head with a smile, if nothing else your sister has always had good taste. Its white, befitting of a wedding/birthday gift, and the small amount of fabric it possesses is a pretty floral lace. The bra is a half cup, with little white bows at the spot where the strap starts. The panties are lace as well, with a diamond pattern line of holes going all the way around, leaving the embarrassing parts uncovered. It even comes with white lace stockings, and a garter to hold them up. You shoot your sister an embarrassed smile. “Thank you Helena, they're absolutely beautiful.” She gives you a small side hug in response. “I know.” She says. “Now try them on.”

All complaints are useless against her, she uses everything from pleading to guilt tripping and at some point you just give up and do as she requests. And as you gaze on yourself in the mirror, you can really say you're glad you did. You look innocent, but also sexy and powerful and you think that if you were marrying the man you loved you would wear this gift. You feel kind of bad that it's going to stay sealed away in a box for your entire life. The bra hugs your breast perfectly, shoving them up a little to provide the perfect amount of cleavage, and the lace panties frame your butt perfectly. The stockings and garter just add the perfect bit of naughty to the otherwise innocent(as innocent as Lingerie can get) picture. Your sister pokes her head around the bathroom door, grinning as you shriek in embarrassment and yank on the silk robe she had left you. Is suspiciously short, only reaching mid thigh but it's better than nothing.

She shoves you into a chair, and gets started on your makeup. You sigh. “Why do I even need makeup, it's not like anybody is going to see me.” She tuts threateningly. “It's to complete the look. Now don't move.” She starts on your base, and for a while the only sound is her gentle humming, and the squirt of makeup products.

It's not until Helena moves onto the hair that she breaks the peaceful mood. “And did father not tell you? You're supposed to ‘consummate’ the marriage tonight.” You open your eyes abruptly with a shout of surprise. “What?” She shrugs. “I guess he didn't, well anyway he should be coming…” Helena checks her watch with a glance, as she skilfully braids white and pink ribbons into your hair. “In about two minutes!”

Even with your shrieks of protest you're not allowed to move until she finishes her hair, and by the time she does it's already too late. She sends you a smile as she picks up her purse and kisses you on the cheek. You glare. “Helena! You took so long i dont have time to change.” She opens the door and you receive a playful grin. “I know,” She says, and you have the dreadful feeling you’ve fallen into a trap. “That was the plan. Have fun big sister.” And with that, she’s gone, leaving you a nervous wreck done up in lingerie, a honey trap just waiting for a man to fall right in. You rush to the bathroom, throwing a glance at the large mirror. You must admit she did a good job, you look very pretty with pink eyeshadow and gold glitter and your hair done up a sexy half updo, but you don't want to look good. You don't want to look like you were waiting here to seduce him. Hopefully you can just explain yourself and the two of you can just sleep. Of what if he thought you were trying to seduce him and got all cocky. That would be humiliating. Your pride would be forever tarnished and your dreams of a quiet life ruined. All because of Helena and her terrible ideas!

Your (probably too dramatic) spiral of doom is interrupted by a quiet knock on the door. You take a deep breath, steady your heart and tie your bathrobe tight, and answer the door.

The sight that greets you when you open the door is surprising to say the least and you suddenly understand what your sister meant when she said he was ‘a dilf’, for the man in the hallway is, quite literally, the quintessential dilf. He is tall, and oh so handsome, with silver hair and piercing gray blue eyes surrounded by the slightest wrinkles. He clears his throat. “Are you Miss Name?”

You thank your sister for making you learn a poker face and send him a small, blank smile. “Yes, are you Mr. Fukuzawa?” Those sexy eyes scan your face, catching on the gold glitter in the corners of your eyes before he nods. “May I come in Miss?” You open the door wider and allow him in, your smile never wavering. You take your seats, sitting across from each other conveniently ignoring the bed on the other side of the room. In horror you realize the box from your sister is still sitting on the table, but a sigh of relief escapes your lips as you see the top of the box is flipped over, the incriminating lettering hidden from sight.

It's hard not to notice how unfairly sexy Fukuzawa looks in a suit, and it makes all these really inappropriate thoughts of sitting on that lap pour into your brain. But still, you do your best to uphold your smile as you speak. “I'm sorry Mr. Fukuzawa, my father unfortunately forgot to inform me that you would be coming tonight.” Your father most definitely did not forget, it's more than likely that he didn't tell you in fear that you would escape. You cursed your father out in your brain, all while maintaining that smile on your lips.

He nods. “It is alright. I didn't intend to consummate this wedding in the first place.” This is what you wanted, but for some reason you feel a little let down. Maybe he doesn't find you attractive? You sigh, he must be blind then. Or gay.

“I see.” is all you say. The room falls into an uncomfortable silence. It's almost comical how your mood has taken a dramatic turn. Not five minutes ago you were lamenting the fact that your husband might be interested, and now you were unhappy that he in fact, was not interested in you. A slight glare entered your eyes and with your mouth still curved into that small smile you made quite the threatening picture. Fukuzawa spoke again, probably fishing for things to say in an effort to make you more comfortable, because of corse he was kind and able to read the room, and of course he didnt want to fuck you.

“The weather is lovely today isn't it Miss Name?”

“I suppose.” You know you sound curt and unfriendly, and you know it's not fair of you, but you're really annoyed. Fukuzawa’s smile wavers a bit at your curt attitude, but he still smiles comfortingly at you. This only makes you angrier. How dare he be kind and handsome and rich, and not want to fuck you. Life is unfair.

$$$

Fukuzawa feels very uncomfortable right now. Because of course his new wife is a beautiful young thing who deserved someone more close to her age, of course she was upset with the plan that had been forced upon her. He most dearly wished he had been born ten years later, so he may woo her properly. He had read the report he was given of her. Miss Name was highly educated, of excellent parentage and absolutely gorgeous. She probably had a young and handsome boyfriend she wanted to marry.

If not for this whole ordeal she could have been with the man she loved, not a stuffy old man like him. It's really no wonder she’s upset. He sends her a small smile, hoping to sooth her probably injured feelings.

“I'm sorry you had to be involved in this mess Miss Name, I know this situation isn't ideal for both of us.” For some reason, her expression doesn't change at all. Her smile is still in place, but Fukuzawa can tell from her eyes that she’s upset. Her voice is curt when she responds.

“Thank you.” The temperature in the room drops a few degrees. He shivers involuntarily as the room falls back to silence, forcefully keeping his eyes away from her legs, covered in pure white lace, and the hint of a garter peeking out from under that small silk bathrobe. She didn't wear those for him for heaven sakes, she didn't even know he was coming tonight. He has no right to fantasize about what she’s wearing under that bathrobe, she may be his wife, but she will never desire him like that.

He clears his throat. “There's something I must tell you, I have an adopted son.” She perks up, the collar of her bathrobe falling a little, revealing a small strip of tantalizing white lace. The room feels too hot. “Really? How old is he?” The cold tone of her voice is melting away and Fukuzawa congratulates himself on the change of topic. “His name is Ranpo and he's five years old. Would you like to see a picture?” She nods, and Fukuzawa pulls out his phone, and shows her the lockscreen. She leans forward, and Fukuwawa is treated to a flash of white bows and lace as she coos at the photo. “He's so cute!”

Fukuzawa wonders if god hates him. Because of course his new wife is a pretty young thing who doesn't mind the fact that he has a son, and is whose collar is falling more and more, treating him to a divine temptation of white lace, and who will never love a boring older man like him. He wonders why the hell he's acting like a young man with these dirty thoughts, and takes a deep breath as she hands his phone back. The ice on her face has melted a bit, and she looks a bit less like she wants to flay him alive, although she still looks a bit sulky. It's much too adorable. Her lips are in a little pout, and it only succeeded in highlighting how plump and silky they look. They have a pink gloss smeared across them, and all Fukuzawa can think about is those lips wrapped around— he almost smacks himself across the face.

Ok so, Fukuzawa can admit that he is very much in lust with his new wife, it's pretty clear and he feels quite like a degenerate, he just hopes she cant tell. It's clear that she doesn't want him, heck she doesn't even seem to like him that much. And he would rather die, than ever force himself on her in any way. He clears his throat with a cough, shifting a little in his seat. “If it would make you more happy, you could have a lover, if that is what you wish.”

Any ice that had defrosted with Ranpo’s picture is immediately incinerated by her burning hot anger. She sits upright, her spine straight and her eyes burning. “Are you implying that I will cheat on you?” Fukuzawa waves his hands anxiously in denial. “No, that's not what i—” The fire abates, then returns in full force. “Wait, do you have a lover?” Fukuzawa shakes his head. ‘No! I only thought that you might have a younger boyfriend you wished to marry instead of me. After all, this decision was made without your input.” Fukuzawa is relieved to see the fire abate, replaced instead with a sweet kind of thanks.

She leans forward a little, a small sincere smile curving across her pretty lips. “I have no one. But it was very kind of you to ask.” She says, as the ties holding the bathrobe come looser and looser. “And even if I had someone, I would never ask for something like that.” Fukuzawa is horrified by the spike of hope that rises in his chest, pillaging through the walls around his heart and stabbing right in, warming his heart with a futile hope. He shakes his head, clearing his thoughts and emotions as she speaks.

“Would you like something to drink? I have some delicious green tea.” He nods, hoping the soothing aroma and taste will calm him down. She stands, and moves to the small kitchenette across from the bed, starting the tea. She speaks as she works. “So, I heard you met my sister Helena? Tall, blond…” Fukuzawa vividly remembers Helena, a tall blond woman who barged into his dinner and in no uncertain terms told him that if he mistreated her sister she would ruin his life. “Yes, she said hello to me at dinner.”

“I hope she didn't bother you, Helena is harmless, I promise.” It's clear how much love she has for her sister, it drips from every word as she chatters on, excitedly telling Fukuzawa story after story of her sister. Fukuzawa hopes dearly that one day, she will speak of him and Ranpo so fondly. His thoughts are imputent, he knows that, but it's in his best interests to not deny them. He's too old for all of this.

“Here you are, Mr. Fukuzawa.” She leans down, placing a fragrant cup of green tea on the table in front of him. “Call me Fukuzawa.” She shoots him a smile and a nod. “Call me Name.” It's small really, but it feels good. The atmosphere has become pleasant, so different from the earlier tense and icy landscape, and Fukuzawa feels relief, until of course, disaster strikes.

She trips slightly, and the glass of green tea she is carrying spills all over her chest, staining the white fabric green. Thankfully it's iced, but she still panics, probably worried about staining. And you see, the thing is, Fukuzawa knows he should turn around, he knows she’s panicking and she forgot herself for a moment, and he knows he should clear his throat or turn around or something. But he still watches in slow motion as she undoes the ties, pulling off that bathrobe and tossing it hurriedly away.

It's somehow straight out of his fantasies, and yet a curse of his nightmares. It's white, and lace and see-through and Fukuzawa feels all the blood in his body rush south. Maybe it's that the slight glimpses were teasing him the entire evening, or maybe he’s just too pent up, but he feels just like a virgin again, discovering porn for the first time. And it kind of is porn, forbidden 3d porn and he's going to die. She looks heavenly, the lace hugging her pretty boobs, the panties hiding nothing at all, and the garter and stocking combo just straight out of any man's wet dream. He feels like a creep, like a gross disgusting perverted old man and he wants her to suffocate him with that pretty pussy all wrapped up in white lace, he wants those pouty lips on his cock, he wants those legs wrapped around his waist while he pounds her into the bed—

His dick is hard, his mouth is open, and then she looks up, meeting his eyes and Fukuzawa feels fear for the first time in a while.

$$$

You know what happened, you were panicking about expensive lingerie and green tea stains and all you wanted to do was get the stain away from the actual underwear as fast as possible. But as your eyes meet Fukuzawa’s own and you take in his state, you can't really say your sorry. He looks wrecked. His eyes are hazy, his mouth open in shock, and the most telling evidence of all is the bulge in his pants. You let a small smirk overtake your face. He wanted you after all. Elation and arousal are the confusing cocktail at work in your stomach as you saunter around the kitchen table, and sit yourself directly on his inviting lap.

This seems to snap him right out of his daze, and he gestures frantically, an apology on his tongue. “I'm so sorry Name, i didn't—” You press a finger to his lips, feeling sexy and confident as you grind down slightly on the rather large bulge in his pants. He lets out a gratifying grunt, as you lean down, running your hands through his soft silver hair. Your voice is a pur when you speak. “You wanna know something?” you know you look devastatingly sexy, and it makes you feel powerful. “I really like you Fukuzawa.” His cheeks flush all cute, and his dick twitches under you. You continue. “And I want you. Do you want me?” His voice is husky, but still slightly formal when he speaks. “Yes. But are you sure you want me?”

You let out a coy little giggle, and grind down again. His little stifled noises are unfairly sexy, you can feel wetness in your panties already.

“I want you so bad hubby. Now kiss me.” With no more words he grants your request.

Fukuzawa kisses just like he looks, gentle and deep, devouring your very soul with his tongue. It makes your pussy throb desperately, and it makes you feel rushed and hot and the whole thing feels somehow even more sexy. Your hands knot in his hair, tangling the strands with your sweaty fingers as you rut together, barely covered pussy on still clothed cock, cores together. You know your whining, letting out little gasps and breaths and as he hoists you up, draping you right across the kitchen table, hands carefully pulling the crotch of your panties away from your drooling pussy. Its so dirty somehow, here you are, about to be fucked senseless by your sexy new husband, right on your kitchen table. You can't wait. He steps back, shedding his coat and tie, and unbuttoning a few of the top buttons.

He looks so sexy above you, panting as he slips a finger into your pussy, stroking your inner walls slowly. “More.” You whine out, the needy tone in your voice embarrassingly clear. Fukuzawa chuckles, adding another finger as per your request. “Do you have condoms? I'm afraid I didn't bring any.” He speeds up his fingers, playing slightly with your clit, and your head falls back. “Don't care. Maybe you can get me pregnant, hubby.” You can tell it affects him by the way his fingers retreat, swiftly replaced by his cock. You moan loudly as he bottoms out, as he hoists your legs over his shoulder, still almost fully clothed. It turns you on greatly, the contrast from your almost naked self, and his composed, still clothed person. His cock is thick, stretching your walls apart and it pulses inside you. You want him to fuck you stupid senseless.

Your hands grip the side of the table as he begins to move, his pace betraying his sense of urgency. Each thrust is deep, hard, and it moves you back on the table, before his hand on your legs pulls you back. His hair is sweat soaked, sticking to his cheeks as he fucks you, his eyes locked on your own.

“Feel good baby?” He pants, his voice a groan. “Yes, ohh so good.” Your voice is loud, and slightly husky with panted moans and breathes. You're seriously going to explode. For the first time in your life you want to thank your father, for finding you a sexy husband who could fuck you crazy. You still hated the man, but he had done some things right in his life.

He's ruining your insides, and you can feel every pulse and twitch of his dick inside you, all berriors gone. You feel unimaginably full and hot and purfect. He stops to lean down, and grips your thighs in both hands, speeding up his thrusts. Your eyes roll back as he hits that spot, over and over and over again.

“Oh Fukuzawa!” He stops his thrusts, pausing deep inside you and you pant. “Yukichi.”

“What?”

“Call me Yukichi.” Your clenches, even as your heart rate speeds up and you gasp out his name, panting it like your last breath. “Yukichi!” The last of your sentence dissolves in a moan as he resumes, all pretense gone, slamming in and out and in and out, and destroying your insides. “You sound so pretty like this, screaming my name.” His voice is rough and full of pants, and so, so sexy. Your hands leave the edge of the table and reach for your breasts, playing with your nipples harshly. You can feel your orgasm building, that familiar heat in the pit of your stomach, begging to be released.

“ ‘m cumming.” You warn, as his thrusts stutter, losing their rhythm. “Me too.” His voice is deep, and as he slams in one more time, and a hot feeling shoots inside of you, you lose it. You know you scream when you come, and at some point he drops your legs and kisses you, his dick still lodged inside of you. And as you come down from your high, and you feel his strong arms carrying you to the bed, you feel hopeful for your future with your sweet new husband, and all the good fuckings that will come with it.

Taglist: @mulit05ho3st4n

[hannigramislife]

for my own gratification bc i just ran into nie mingjue hate in the wild, would you mind making a post that defends my poor good boy? he worked so hard and got gaslit to shit before getting murdered terribly ;; literally everyone sat there telling him "youre being too harsh" and he's just responding appropriately. like yeah, if you witness a murder, ya kinda got to do something about that as a clan leader. its kinda your responsibility, even when you care about the person who did the murdering. he was also a really young when he took on the role of clan leader and idk, it just made me rlly sad to see people dunk on him cuz wtf he's literally just trying his best in an impossible situation WHILE being perpetually fucked over by his clan's own traditional cultivation cuz now the stronger he is as a leader, the closer he is to going literally insane and dying bc of it. (mingjue did nothing wrong i will die on this hill) ((sorry for going on a tirade, im just sad and defensive of my good boy rn))

Oh no! I'm so sorry you had to go through Nie Mingjue hate! Truly tragic. I went through that once when in the beginning of me reading the books, when I still had no proper opinions, and never again.

I'm more than willing to make a post about Nie Mingjue! I'm always down to talk about Nie Mingjue tbh, he's my heart and love and if I were to have been given the opportunity to be his right hand person, I would have simply never betrayed his trust and married him. Rip Jin Guangyao but I'm different.

Anyways, I, huhhh, actually think you?? Covered it all??? Pretty much?? Yet I will talk about it. This will be long and non-coherent, because I don't have the books rn to find quotes in them and honestly, I could write essays on Nie Mingjue either way.

Nie Mingjue is a central piece of the narrative, despite the limited amount of appearances he made, and the fact that he wasn't close to the main characters at all. The entire second part of the plot revolves around him- it happened because of him. His murder is a tragedy; literally, by greek standards, man has Cassandra Curse all over him, so I don't get how people can tell me, confidently, that his death was warranted. I've been told the man had asked for it, and this has mostly been by Jin Guangyao apologists.

So let me make something real fucking clear.

Nie Mingjue did not deserve to die. Let's get that out of the way, anyone can fight me on that. Nie Mingjue had more good qualities than half the people in this fucking story, despite his flaws. After his father was brutally murdered when Mingjue was only in his teens, Nie Mingjue stepped up as clan leader. We can only speculate the hardships that await someone leading a clan at such an early age. Yet, political challenges weren't the only thing he had to battle; Nie Mingjue knew about his clan's harmful cultivation, and he knew he was going to die young. So what did he do? His best. Literally his best, always. He was always giving 100% of his abilities, because that's who he was.

Let's talk about who Nie Mingjue was, shall we?

When Jin Guangyao, still Meng Yao then, describes Nie Mingjue, he finds himself perplexed, because Nie Mingjue isn't like other men. He is not frivolous, and he has no vices; Meng Yao describes how Nie Mingjue never showed an interest in arts, or alcohol, or women. All he did was train, and fight the Wens during the war. It shows that he had a one-track mind from the start, and has got a strict discipline; yet this strictly disciplined man, leader of a clan that prizes strength, continuously indulges his lazy and undisciplined half-brother, his one and only heir, despite not understanding his interests. We gather, pretty quickly, that Nie Mingjue is a bleeding heart for his brother, and for the ones he loves in general. We see the same softer side displayed in the presence of Lan Xichen, and of course, for some time, Meng Yao.

People seem to think Nie Mingjue took Meng Yao's betrayal too harshly. As if somehow seeing a man he thought to have been just and honest commit premeditated murder, then cover it up, was something he was just supposed to get over. To this day, I can't believe how Lan Xichen was so understanding of it. But not only did Nie Mingjue catch him in a cowardly act - Meng Yao proceeds to manipulate him, using the fact that Nie Mingjue cared about him, to stab him in the back. Or front, however it happened. I get that Meng Yao was in a difficult position, that he suffered at the Jins, that he felt backed in a corner; but Nie Mingjue was a man that had extended his help to Meng Yao before, and even then, he went to find Meng Yao in righteous fury, ready to help him again. To Nie Mingjue, the idea that Meng Yao "had no other choice" but to kill - to kill in the manner he did - it could have been nothing but a betrayal.

One thing that I personally highly respected Nie Mingjue for was the fact that he did not judge Meng Yao for his background. This is not up for debate; Nie Mingjue stood up for him, quite publicly, quite vocally, when Meng Yao was being insulted over it. And not only that, but he promoted Meng Yao to be his right hand man, just like that. Because he's impulsive, and to prove a point, but it was still huge of him to do. Not even Lan Xichen would have done that - In a society built on power dynamics between social classes, Nie Mingjue was one of the few characters who did not let that define his actions. It wasn't because he was born privileged (though he was) but because he he didn't let anything other than his judgment direct his actions. Nie Mingjue also never shied away from anything; if it had to be done, he did it, no matter the cost.

Nie Mingjue was decisive, and had an iron will. When Meng Yao killed the Nie disciples in Qishan, he wanted to kill Meng Yao. Meng Yao told him, paraphrasing, that "don't you understand that if I hadn't done that, it would have been your corpse up there?" and Wei Wuxian takes it to mean "Translation: I saved you so you can't kill me, because that would mean you're in the wrong." So Nie Mingjue hesitated for a second, then said: "Fine! I'll kill you, and then take my own life!" And the only reason he didn't, was because Lan Xichen was there. Otherwise, Nie Mingjue would have killed his former friend, then followed him to whatever afterlife awaited.

Nie Mingjue is often portrayed like he doesn't understand stuff, like he's stupid, simply because of his black and white sense of morality. That's not correct: Nie Mingjue understands motive, but he doesn't accept the ends justifying the means. Scratch that, he doesn't accept or justify either, if they're unjust. The murder of the Jin commander, the murder of the Nie disciples, not executing Xue Yang - how can Nie Mingjue possibly understand Meng Yao's decisions, when Nie Mingjue would rather die, any day, than live thanks to vile actions?

And then, Nie Mingjue starts falling into qi-deviation. We know that it affected his temper the most, and his judgement. I don't understand how it works, really, so I don't know by the end how much was Nie Mingjue and how much was the mess that the spirit made of him - maybe a combination of the two. But what is certain, is that the rapid qi deviation changed him.

But I could write a hundred more pages on him, meticulously going over every single scene he has ever appeared in, because I find him that interesting. I find him the most interesting, and the most appealing character, because in a story where the navigation of the cultivation world's complex politics and hierarchies with tact and diplomacy is crucial, Nie Mingjue stands uncompromising in his principles, choosing duty and honor over anything else, even when it's hard.

[tigersinufos]

ED (not Sheeran vent)

When you have an Ed (not Sheeran), you start noticing the way others eat and how much, you notice how many calories are in their meal, how fast or slow they chew, and even how they hold their fork. The way food falls out their mouth or smears across their face, how their teeth scrape against the fork, and they open their mouth to speak whilst eating, how every day they consume thousands of calories while you can’t handle eating above five hundred a day.

When you have an ED (not Sheeran), you stop seeing food as a source of nutrients, a way to survive and keep your body healthy, you start seeing it as fat and carbs, fibres, sugar and calories. You break down every piece of it until it is nothing but a pile of fat in your stomach sitting on your plate. When you walk into the shop you stop thinking, “I fancy a chocolate bar; I deserve it”, you think, “I fancy a chocolate bar, it looks so nice, I don't deserve it, look at those calories, those numbers…maybe another day.”

When you have an ED (not Sheeran), you start caring more about how people look, every detail, you stop thinking, “She's so pretty”, and start thinking, “She's so pretty, but, her stomach hanging out, she has acne, etc”, and when you look in the mirror you stop thinking about things you like about yourself, you start noticing how bad you look, you go from, “My eyes are so pretty”, to “my eyes are so pretty but my lashes are short,” and “my skin is so clear, but I still have acne scars,”. Everything about yourself you’ve ever liked seems to have some downside you've never thought about before, you find ways to cover it and improve it, and when you look in the mirror you stop thinking, “I’m so glad Mum brought me this dress, that patterns so cute, I love the bows on it,” to “Why did I buy this dress? I love how it looks but my thighs are too fat, my hip dips are more prominent, my arms look weird, I have man shoulders,” your thoughts change from thinking about your dress to how you look in the dress, and its so hard.

When you have an ED (not Sheeran), everyone thinks you're an asshole, they think you view everything negatively, that you're lazy, and unproductive, even when you spend every day working out and walking to try to burn any and every calorie when you stop eating they think you're picky and dramatic because they aren't seeing any changes, they don't see you rot in bed crying every day because you can't stomach the way you look. They don't see the world the way you do, they don't see how you view yourself, how you treat yourself over the smallest bar of chocolate.

When you have an ED (not Sheeran), your worldview changes, you can't have fun with friends without thinking about food, how much you have or haven't eaten that day, whether they'd offer you food, and how you'd reject them. How many steps did you take that day? Not a lot, maybe if you offer to walk them home you’d pick up the few hundred you're missing. I wonder what I’ll look like in a week once I drop those pounds, maybe the week after, will he like me more if I'm skinnier? Will he appreciate the work I put into it? What if it's not enough? I'll still be fat? Maybe I should give up and recover but I'm not ill enough to even do that... I guess I'll just recover. Who thought recovering was a good idea? Now I have to lose these pounds again…

Having an ED (not Sheeran) is a living nightmare and I'd never wish it upon my worst enemy.

[all-pacas]

foreman cannot catch a break! first, he has to third wheel chase and cameron, after he has to third wheel chase and thirteen, his ex-girlfriend! then he and taub become friends and then chase goes and becomes a favourite of his daughters.

No wonder he continues to hate chase, I'd be pissed if some guy easily got everything he wanted in my life too

HONESTLY I could and probably will someday write up a whole thing about this, I know you're joking (and correct), but I actually find Foreman and Chase's antagonism really interesting and way more interesting than the bland "aww they're besties" read you sometimes see. They're really not!

Chase is basically. Chase is basically the embodiment of everything Foreman hates, pretty literally. Foreman has an inferiority complex and suffers massive imposter syndrome; Chase is literally a nepotism hire with a famous father. Foreman works his ass off; Chase is notoriously lazy but genuinely talented.

There's this line in Post Mortem from Chase's other hospital nemesis:

CHASE: If you really think I'm a good doctor, why do you treat me like an idiot? TREIBER: It's not because you lack talent. It's 'cause you've wasted it. Did you know I applied to be a fellow with House the same year as you? CHASE: No. TREIBER: Quit my other program, relocated, broke up with my girlfriend. Then your father made a call, and suddenly you had the spot. CHASE: That was almost ten years ago. TREIBER: Do you know what I could've done after even three years with House? Gone to the CDC, W.H.O. Started a diagnostics department someplace they'd never even heard of such a thing. You've been given everything. Looks, talent, my future. Nine years later, look what you've done with it.

This could literally be Foreman talking. Chase is rich, successful, he's socially very adept (something Foreman struggles with); on the surface he never seems to have to work hard for anything, he never seems to try hard or care. He fucks over House with Volger and gets away with it. He gets fired but keeps managing to fail upwards, and meanwhile Foreman is the one with a shitty reputation who can't get a job anywhere.

Foreman came from nothing, he overcame so much, he has overcome literally all the odds and worked his ass off and done everything right. And he's wildly successful, for sure, but it's work. "Chase doesn't care about this job," he tells House in S1. Chase doesn't deserve to be in the same place, because Chase hasn't worked for it.

There's a very interesting class/racial subtext to it all too, of course. We know Foreman resents poor people and the underprivileged, people who remind him of himself. Chase is literally the one percent: a good looking White Man, the scion of a rich and powerful family. He is everything Foreman isn't. Even their dynamic is kind of telling of this: Chase never seems to take Foreman all that seriously. He takes the piss a lot, he enjoys making fun of him and trolling. Chase does this with everyone, it's not personal, but it's kind of insulting, right? Chase kind of treats Foreman like a joke. Where Foreman can often be very rude or even mean to Chase (his insistence that Chase must have ratted to Tritter and is that spineless and making fun of his dady issues in Finding Judas comes to mind), Chase doesn't return the favor in the same way. Foreman is mean, Chase is sarcastic. Which is of course also hurtful. Which of course also makes it seem like Chase looks down on Foreman. I'm sure that's how Foreman takes it. It's true. Chase is pretty fucking dismissive of Foreman. I don't think it's a class/racial thing in the way Foreman's resentments probably are — Chase is kind of dismissive of most people — but it doesn't help.

And, of course, Foreman isn't completely right. He's biased, he's in his own way kind of a snob, there are several examples of Foreman completely misinterpreting Chase as a person: my favorite is in The Mistake: in an episode showing Chase bonding with Kayla and her brother and taking a sincere interest in Kayla's kids, Foreman bitterly complains to Stacy that Chase doesn't care about his patients. But Chase isn't exactly jumping at the bit to open up to Foreman, even when Foreman does try and reach out (Socratic Method, post-S6 divorce). They're kind of… fundamentally incompatible people. They're eventual friends, they respect one another, but they're just incapable of seeing eye to eye.

[androgynousblackbox]

Alright, I am watching the reaction stream of another person to see the video of Jamesy and I have thoughts! -Jamesy is REALLY counting on buttering up to Jessie Gender specifically. He named her so many times trying to "apologize" for weaponizing his audience against her when she told him to not erase her work in Nebula just because his whiny entitled ass couldn't accept that he wasn't invited to the platform. Not a single word about actually going to her and talk privately though, just a bunch of "ooh, Jessie Gender is the kindest, best human being ever and I am so sorry to her", like, bitch, WHY ARE YOU EVEN TALKING ABOUT HER? Jessie wasn't the worst victim of your actions! Your bullshit with her happened long BEFORE anything of this happened, so why the fuck are you even bringing her up?? My only guess is that Jamesy wants Jessie to speak on his favor and "forgive him", hoping that will bring him new good will from the queer community in youtube. I am fucking crossing my fingers and touching wood that Jessie does not fall for this manipulative bullshit. This guy is literally clout chasing because, again, when it came to the plagiarism, Jessie had NOTHING to do here. Jessie, if you want an easy win, don't say anything about this. Don't even aknowledge it. Pretend like a mosquito just farted in another building. You had nothing to do with this and I am sorry this piece of shit is trying to drag you into it to take advantage of your good nature. -"I only cared about the production side of making videos, that is why I bring Nick in as the main writer." This motherfucker really went and did it. He is literally blaming Nick squarely now, because now he is just not a co-writer. No, now he is the MAIN WRITER. Jamesy here was just trying to making his little films and buy expensive ass equipment while telling everyone he was starving on the streets, he only cared about the production. NICK, THOUGH, HE WAS ALL ABOUT THE WRITING. He was the one who put the words and little Jamesy baby boy here only "produced, directed and edited" (omg, shut the fuck off, man, your editing skills are mid at best) everything. -Way too many sob stories. I don't care, man. I don't fucking care that you got fired or whatever conditions you had. Do you have any fucking clue how many people do really struggle to reach the end of the month and they still never even think of stealing someone else's work? Everyone is struggling and yet, you were the one who made a career for fucking years out of stealing the works of everyone else in this community AND THEN, when call out, tried to paint them as the bad guys.

-A lot, and I do mean, a lot of time to "apologize" to Jessie Gender, but you know who he didn't apologize to? Literally none of the authors he stole from. Not the fan whose edit of Korra he used without credit. Not Alexander Avila. Not that person who was harassed to hell and back by Jamesy and his audience when they showed how he plagiarized on his disney video. Jessie deserved to be name dropped at least thirty times, but those people?? They are fucking nobodies. They don't matter. Why name them at all? It's not like their WORK WAS STOLEN BY YOU OR ANYTHING! And that is another thing! Even if Jamesy is really out there blaming Nick for all the words that they took without credit, then what the fuck is up with all the footage, edits and audiovisual works that weren't for you to take? You said your passion is production. That is part of the production, Jamesy. Is this you admitting you fully just fucking stole them and hoped nobody would notice because you are a lazy piece of garbage?

-"Having to do multiple edits because youtube copyright issues was so hard for me, guys, you don't understand uwu. It was so hard on me to make it less obvious I had plagiarized people!" THAT IS ENTIRELY YOUR OWN FAULT, BRO.

-So, hey, funny thing. I was looking to see if other people were reacting or had reuploaded the video so I could put it here. They haven't yet, there is only two reactions, but while I was doing that I found a video of ANOTHER person talking about Jamesy ripping them off: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bsD-wodn288 Apparently Jamesy had stolen a blog post that this person wrote about Lord of The Rings and they weren't known by anyone, they don't even like that article anymore, but still! Go see that video instead of watching Jamesy and support them if you find value on their work.

-Hey, Jamesy. Jamesy. You do know that epilepsy and head injuries or memory issues don't take you threaten, lie and weaponize your audience against people who call out your plagiarism with the evidence in hand, right? That has literally nothing to do actually, because you had to be aware off of the issue for you to lie about it after someone else brought it up. After the first time it happened, you could have hired another beta reader to tell you that ups, your memory/epilepsy/memory issues/ADHD strike again and you don't remember from where you took that quote from, sorry! You had money for that expensive ass camera, you could have. -Like, my guy, there were so many steps involved here. So many steps from writing, production, backlash and your response to the backlash. Even if any part on this was an honest mistake, something I don't fucking believe in because fuck you, you had millions of opportunities to rectified it and change it. And yet you didnd't. And so here we are, without you receiving not even a miserable fucking like. Go to hell. A mistake doesn't get repeated so many times for years. That was all a choice, bitch. Fuck you.

And here is where I stopped because his voice is like nail on my ears.

Don't look at his video, it's truly not worth it. DON'T LEAVE COMMENTS EITHER, YOUTUBE TAKES THAT AS ENGAGEMENT ANYWAY.

[talesfrommedinastation]

Redneck Doug on ALL the other Clones in Star Wars!

As promised, for reaching a new number of followers, here's Doug's list when I asked him to name off all the clones in 'The Clone Wars' and 'The Bad Batch'!

Some are obviously repeats of other posts, and some are brand spanking new.

I'm using my autoethnography skills to their fullest extent, here, people.

This is LONG but hey! 7 seasons of The Clone Wars and 3 seasons of The Bad Batch means animated Star Wars in the Days of our Lives of animation.

If I'm missing someone, let me know! I'll reach out to Doug!

Enjoy, everyone!

CW: Redneck Doug just rambles needlessly about people.

And Clermont Lounge is one of the scariest and yet, most fun places in the ATL and I could 100% see one of the 501st working there.

-----------------------

Bly: That’s a boy, his name’s Miguel. Got his friends, they drink Pabst, shoot the empty cans behind the garage when they done, and hit on every woman that walks by. But Miguel’s got his eyes on Babe-the-Blue-Jedi and steals flowers from people’s yard and gives them to her. Babe-the-Blue-Jedi knows the man’s not that bright but his heart’s in the right place and that’s all that matters, right? 

Rex: That's Rex. He's a king. Respect him. 

Cody: That’s Obi-Wan’s Boyfriend, he’s sad all the time. We know why. (Confirmed that Doug is a Codywan shipper and I don’t know what to do about that)

Howzer: That’s my niece’s boyfriend, Jorge. We all love Jorge, nice guy, owns an auto repair shop and always remembers plates and napkins for the cookouts after church.

Gregor: Jorge’s cousin, Manny. Met him once at Christmas in Miami, nice guy, only drinks brown liquor and insists everyone arm wrestle him. But he’s got a good job as a PE teacher, we respect education, come on now. 

Hardcase: Wiggles. He laughs at everything and never wears a helmet both on his big head and his lil head and that explains everything about the man.

Kix: Nurse Mark. He's tired and sick of your shit, sick of the creeps trying to get the Fentanyl, that's a crime now, ain't it.

Echo: "Eh, Toaster Strudel. Homeboy looks like his daddy had an affair with a convection oven on shore leave and forgot to pay child support."

Mayday: Aw, I liked this guy so much! That’s Sassy Park Ranger, he’s the type that gives you your camping permits, warns you about the bears, and then is all disappointed when you don’t properly stow your food and the bears destroy the campsite. I need to go back to Little River Canyon, that place was pretty. 

Scorch: The Son of Robocop. His daddy told him to get off his lazy Robo-son ass and go get a job, so he works for the Empire now, because no one can get a job in Detroit. That’s why he’s a bad person. (Because he works for the Empire? “No, because he’s a Lions fan and that ain’t a good look for anyone.”)  

Fives: Alex-from-Manitoba. He reminds me so much of this awesome guy I knew, Alex, was from Winnipeg, we worked in oil together. Smart, knew his shit, loved guns and getting his hair did. No one listens to him, management hates him, and he gets fired. Man I was so pissed off when that happened with that damn alien that ran the ocean on the mall! He deserved better, damn it!

(Fives or Alex-from-Manitoba?

“BOTH!!!”)

99: 99!  

(You actually remember his name?  

“Hell yeah! He’s one of the most important characters! Why would I not?” 

::cue me, quietly staring at all the weird-ass names over texts and saying NOTHING in response::) 

Wolffe: Bernando. I dunno, man, he got that Bernardo energy. I’ve met three and they all looked like they wanna run off into the woods and come out when they got a deer they need to process and take a shower and find a lady before running back into the woods. Also Bernardo never has a girlfriend that lasts more than 6 months with him. Don’t know why. Just trust me. 

Gree: Carnie Joe. Man, he looks like the type of guy who drives an ice cream truck but there ain’t no Bomb Pops inside if you know what I mean. 

Cut Lawquane: Not-Wolverine. He ran away from the Empire, grew out his muttonchops, wanted to join the X-Men, Charles Xavier said ‘Nah son you need super powers for that’, and then Not-Wolverine stomped off into Tremors-land and started a pot-and-chicken farm like every other hillbilly in Kentucky. But he got a hot wife out of the deal and some nice kids and lots of guns, and ya know, that ain’t a bad ending for the man. 

Commander Fox: Red-Chief-of-Police. He’s absolutely on them Ticky-Tack videos my nieces and nephews watch where the cops are doing bad things but they ain’t gonna get fired over it. Man. It ain’t right. 

Tup: Alex’s-Friend-Matt. Aw, Matt, good guy, but too much brain damage after that time he fell off the roof while laying down tar. He grew out his ponytail to hide the dent in his head and talked funny afterwards, but he real good at roughneck work and I can’t fault the man, nope. 

Hevy: That’s Ross. He’s always mad because he’s insecure. He’s got a lot of Nerf guns and only eats stuff you can find at 7-11. 

Jesse: That’s Jesse, he’s a trucker, was a bouncer at Clermont Lounge in Atlanta, and has three ex-wives who all hate him. He shaves his head because his hair hates him too. 

Crosshair: So that there's Daddy Warcrimes. All you need to know is he lives on beer and Slim Jims, has more guns then Jesus got faith, and that he does your mom on the weekends, and then you thank him for his service.

Hunter: Aw man, we got Rambo up in this place. Daddy Rambo. He looks like he's got some hot wife with a huge butt who makes amazing biscuits, but he only showers on the weekends for reasons he won't tell you.

Wrecker: I know, I KNOW, he's got some cool Star Wars name, but in my head, he's Julio. He looks like a Julio, ya know? Every Julio's been the nicest guy with a truck and a million friends. I swear. I bet he's a contractor and lays pipe like you wouldn't believe. ::winks::

Tech: Hm, yeah, I know him. That's Ryan-from-Accounting, somebody's hipster dad. You know, everyone knows a Ryan who works in accounting, he's quiet, only drinks IPAs, and has a bitch wife named Laura who drives a Kia and is always yelling at him. Poor man. I hope Julio saves him from his bitch wife Laura.*

Omega: Little Orphan Blondie. I hope she gets real parents or something besides those freaky alien things running the mall on the ocean.

Emerie Karr: Stepsister-Beth. She’s got a stick up her rear, was in a sorority known for bitchy Daddy’s Girls who wouldn’t touch below the belt but are all about using other places for their date’s hoses to put out the fire, and only drinks almond milk lattes. She’s a bitch to waiters and drives a Prius. 

(“Doug I drive a Prius.”

“Yeah, but you ain’t a southern sorority girl so y’all forgiven.”)

Nemec and Fireball: Trigger and Nutsy. They’ve been in a survival militia in the Florida Everglades and that’s all you need to know. 

CX-2: The Guy from Tron. He’s a guy, and he was in the movie Tron. That’s it. 

[drdemonprince]

How do you feel about “weaponized incompetence”

I see a lot of people talking about it, and I know it can definitely be a thing that people do purposefully, but so many things that fall under the umbrella seem like things that some neurodivergent people tend to struggle with.

I don't think a person needs to be consciously or intentionally weaponizing incompetence in order to leverage it for their benefit. Due to forces like systemic sexism, sometimes a weaponized incompetence dynamic plays out without anybody meaning it to.

Now of course, weaponized incompetence is absolutely a dynamic that some people deliberately create (famously, a husband or boyfriend knowingly washing the dishes poorly so his partner never asks him to do it again), but more often than not, it's the byproduct of capitalist overwork and alienation meeting sexist norms that play out on an intuitive level rather than some malicious, evil plan.

My ex-partner absolutely benefitted from weaponized incompetence; he was also almost certainly an undiagnosed ADHDer who was struggling, and not a bad guy. From my perspective, it didn't matter. I still ended up having to pay the bills, sign us up for all the utilities, figure out a new place to live three different times when our rent went up, hire the movers, remind him to get a new ID when his old one was expired and we had a flight coming up, find him a dentist when his tooth was aching, help him write emails for his work when he first got a job, ask him to clean things rather than being able to trust he would contribute, make all the decisions regarding decluttering the house, take care of our pet, etc etc etc.

He deserved more help than he ever got, as a (very likely) disabled person living under capitalism. But I also covered him and shouldered his life burdens in a way that made me miserable and offloaded a lot of his responsibilities onto me. It drove me nuts and made me dysphoric to admit it, but a large part of how we wound up in that dynamic was systemic sexism, because he was a cishet man and I wasn't.

All that said, and my considerable real-life biases having been put on the table, I do think it's the case that many disabled people are unfairly accused of 'weaponizing incompetence' when all that they've done is express a limitation as clearly as they possibly could, which ought to be a good thing. There is nothing wrong or manipulative with asking for help, or for articulating what you are and are not capable of as honestly as you can. (And this honest communication piece was absent in the relationship I am describing; he wouldn't even acknowledge that he wasn't and could not contribute to maintaining a life together in any practical way. When I tried to name that dynamic, he would shut down, walk away, say things were going to change without any plan for how that might happen, etc).

In much the same way that an excited Autistic person who is infodumping or communicating super clearly in order to be helpful can be unfairly branded a "mansplainer", lots of disabled people are seen unfairly as manipulative, lying about their limitations, taking advantage of other people, lazy, and weaponizing incompetence.

The trope of the fake disabled person who is just gaming the system cuts deep. It's pervasive and it's responsible for a lot of social problems that disabled people face, from impossibly difficult benefits applications programs, to cruel teachers who refuse to provide the accommodations to which their students are entitled, to abusive and neglectful partners who fail to meet their disabled loved one's needs. Arguably I even was one of those partners, even if I did have genuine reasons for grievance and very real disabilities of my own.

The reality is that the lines between all these things can be blurred, as a person's intent and their impact can be wildly different. people who are doing their best can still leverage sexism and leave a partner feeling taken advantage of. And a partner who feels taken advantage of can have real reasons for feeling that way and can also still be ableist, or even cruel and unfair to their disabled loved one. it's tough.

Thanks for the great question, it is one I think about a lot for obvious reasons.

[centralperkchenford]

Chenford + Tim to say 'I love you' first

I hope you like this!!

Chenford + Tim to say 'I love you' first

I and love and you

Tim watches Lucy as she throws a ball for Kojo, giving the dog a pat on the head when he comes with it. She takes it again and throws it making the dog take of running. He smiles and stretches out his legs.

He likes this, just being with Lucy at his house watching her play with Kojo. It’s so domestic, sometimes he can’t believe this is his life and he’s living it with Lucy. He loves her and he knows he loves her. He has for awhile, and he wants to tell her but he’s waiting for the perfect time because she deserves that.

The dog comes back with the ball and drops it at Lucy’s feet and then he drops down too letting out a dramatic huff.

Tim rolls his eyes lazy dog. But Lucy laughs and bends down to give the dog a kiss before turning around to walk up the stairs to where Tim is sitting. She shits down in the chair next to him and he turns and smiles at him.

“Hi.” He says softly. She scoots over so she can reach him and he leans over too and gives her a kiss.

“You tired him out.” Tim says and they both look at Kojo who is still passed out on the grass.

“Hmm.” Hums Lucy and she lays her head on his shoulder. “This is nice.” Tim kisses her on top of the head and thinks I love you. But he doesn’t say it out loud, he just hums in agreement, hoping one day he will be able to say it out loud.

***

The next time Tim thinks about saying I love you is when they are in bed. The morning sun is shining through and Lucy’s hair is half on his pillow and half on hers. He has one hand on her stomach and one hand on her thigh. He can tell she’s not quite awake but also not quite asleep. He draws circles on her thigh and kisses her neck softly. She hums softly and god he loves her so much. I love you. I love you. I love you.

She turns around in his arms and blinks up at him. “Good morning babe.” She says sleepily. He smiles at her, and kisses her pulse point.

“Good morning.”

“I like waking up next to you.” She says tracing his lips and he kisses her fingers when she does.

“Me too.”

I love you.

Lucy cuddles more into his chest and kisses just above where his heart is.

I love you.

“Do you want some coffee?” He asks after a little while.

She nods against his chest, “Yes please.” She mumbles. Tim smiles and lays a kiss on the top of her head.

This wasn’t the right moment either but he would find it and he would say it.

I love you.

***

The next time he thinks it is when she gets hurt and he finds himself rushing towards the hospital like a man on a mission. It was his day off but Lucy had to work and then he got a call that she was in the hospital.

He rushes into the emergency room and then is led back to where Lucy is. She’s grumbling as she gets stitches but stops when her eyes land on him.

“Hi.” He says breathlessly. He makes his way over to her and sits in the chair by the bed. He reaches for her hand and kisses it once before holding it tightly.

“I’m okay Tim.” She says softly. “Just a little scrape.” Tim scoffs but he knows she’s right.

I love you.

I love you. I can’t lose you.

“It doesn’t mean I won’t worry about you.” He tells her. Lucy smiles and winces as the nurses pulls a little. “Because that’s kind of built into me now.”

“I know.” She says her eyes searching his face. “I appreciate it.”

And he’s not going to tell her he loves when she’s laying in a hospital bed. He doesn’t want her to think he’s saying it just because she got hurt.

One day.

I love you.

***

The next time he thinks it is when they have a tiny fight. It’s nothing really but they are both tired and they haven’t seen each other in a few days. And then Tim doesn’t go to her apartment after work but goes to his place because he has a pounding headache and he just wants to lay down.

And logically he knows Lucy would take care of him but things are tense with them.

He turns his phone off and lays on his bed wishing Lucy was here next to him.

He closes his eyes and soon he is drifting off to sleep.

He’s awoken by someone pounding on his door and he groans but gets up. He opens the door only to be greeted by a very angry Lucy. She steps inside and pushes at his chest.

“What the fuck Tim.” She growls. He stares at her confused and she rolls her eyes and pokes him again.

“You didn’t come to my apartment and then you aren’t answering your phone. I have been worried sick! Why—” She stops and he’s startled to see tears rolling down her cheek.

“Lucy I—I’m sorry. I had a headache and we were fighting and—” Tim says and Lucy stares at him and then she’s latching herself onto him.

“I was so worried. I thought—” Lucy says her face muffled by his shirt. Tim rubs her back and she clings tighter.

“It’s okay Luce. I’m sorry.” He says into her hair. He breathes her in and he realizes this is all he needed.

I love you.

But he’s definitely not saying it right now, not after they had a fight and he—

“I’m sorry I got so mad at you Tim.” Says Lucy looking up at him. “I was tired and—”

“Me too.” He says. “Me too.” I love you. Lucy looks up at him and tilts her head.

“Do you still have a headache?” She asks. He nods. It wasn’t as bad as before but it was still there.

She takes his head and leads him back to the bedroom. “Lay down.” She orders. He raises his eyebrows but she points to the bed and he lays down. She goes into his bathroom and comes back with some water and some pills. She presses the medicine into his palm and hands him the water.

“Thank you.” He says after he takes it. She hums and then she takes off her shirt and jeans and grabs one of his shirts hanging on the chair.

“What are you doing?” He asks. She doesn’t answer just simply presses herself against his back.

“Close your eyes Tim.” She says gently. So he does and he feels asleep to the the sound of Lucy’s soft breathing and her heart beat against his back.

I love you.

***

The next time he thinks it and then actually says it is when she’s dancing around in his kitchen in just his shirt. He comes into the kitchen and stops short when he sees what she’s doing. She’s humming seemingly unaware of his presence.

He smiles as he watches her, her hair falling down her back. Her eyes twinkling in the light. She turns around and sees him and squeals. She is in his arms before he can think or say anything else.

“Hi baby.” He says when she has fully attached herself to him.

“Hi.” She mutters into his neck and Tim just knows. He knows it’s time to say it and it might be in the most mundane way but he doesn’t care. He just wants her to know how much he loves and appreciates her.

She pulls back and looks at him, “What?” She asks curiously tilting her head at him.

“I love you.” He says and there’s a long silence before she laughing a little.

“Finally.” She says and he looks at her confused. “I know you have been wanting to say it for weeks.”

He opens his mouth to protest but then clamps it shut. She really does know him.

“I just wanted it to be special for you and I—”

“Baby, it was special because it’s you.” She says and then laughs. “I love you too.”

Tim laughs and kisses her on top of the head, and he sighs happily.

He’s in love.