#she doesnt even need to be a lawyer. or have a job.

[oc-cinematic-universe]

literally sat bolt upright in bed in a confused daze because, while my thoughts were wandering while trying to sleep, i remembered dara becomes a lawyer and it surprised me so much i woke up

[beefboyandbabygirl]

Titty-Shirt! (18+)

pairing: pervert!rollercoaster operator!jeonghan x bigtiddie!fem!reader

genre: theme park au??? lmao, coworkers to lovers, kinda enemies to lovers, smut, fluff, lil crack, lil angst

description: you start your new job and your mentor, jeonghan, is the biggest piece of shit you've ever met. you swear you hate him. you swear. he's just also the most gorgeous man you've ever seen.

warnings: whew this requires a lot of warning, first of all a lot of DUBCON BEHAVIOR FROM JEONGHAN INITIALLY (we know she enjoys it to some extent, but he doesnt know), hes a sleazy perverted fuck, tiddie playing, tiddie sucking, tiddie fucking, fingering (f. receiving), dry humping, mirror sex, praise (f. receiving), dirty talk, FINGER SUCKING HNG, a lil degradation (f. receiving), meanie condescending jeonghan turning all soft for ur tiddies :(, V TIDDIE-CENTRIC IF U COULDNT TELL, belinda loves jeonghan, WEED LOTTA WEED, explicit depictions of smoking weed, high sex, this fic sounds rough but it actually has some really soft cute moments, im pretty sure thats it lmk if i forgot smth

quotes from babygirl (@joshibambi): "shove ur cock down my throat treat me like the whore i am", "FUCKING STEP ON ME", "omg hes so disgusting..... im so attracted to him"

wordcount: 13.2k

a/n: the way i raced 2 finish this before im actually moving out... ALSO thinking ab making this a series? like one for each member, the theme being "unusual jobs". like not stuff youd immediately think of like coffee shop or lawyer or ceo or whatever. like. strange jobs. would u guys b on board?

“We’re so excited to have you working with us.” 

She had a mole on her nose that was hard to ignore. It was big and exceptionally round - your thoughts flitted back to your dearest Discovery Channel, and how amazing it was that nature could create such perfect spheres. The thought of your couch and your blanket and your most cherished nature docs brought upon a wave of uncertainty. You could just be lying at home, you thought. 

“Happy to be here,” you smiled tightly. She was your new manager and she was short and stout and had gray hair and a lovely smile and a round mole on her nose. You tried not to make it obvious you were staring at it. 

You were standing in your city’s local theme park under a long path with flower archways. People, kids and parents and ninth graders, swarmed around like bees, standing at booths and in lines to old, janky, rusted roller coasters. It was summer and you were wearing the branded shirt they’d given you, slightly too small, and the matching cap. Insects buzzed past your stray hairs and you looked up at the bright blue sky. 

You needed a job, you had known, and your mom had certainly known it too, so you could only lounge around after graduating for a short while, before you opted to apply. This had been your last choice. You’d tried to become some sort of lobby-worker, tried makeup stores and even regular stores. You used to make fun of the people who worked here. But now that person was you, and standing under the archways in the summer sun slathered in sunscreen, you figured you would make the best of it until the busy season was over. 

“So,” your manager, Belinda, began after a brief pause of polite nods, “new employees such as yourself are required to be trained and surveyed by an existing worker for a two-week period, but after that you get to run the rides all by yourself.” 

She said it like it was something to look forward to. You tried to believe that it was.

“Of course,” you said, and once again the space between you was filled with polite and exaggerated nodding. “Need to learn first before you get to be the master.”

“Exactly!” she said. Her lipstick was barbie-pink and a little overlined on the right side. She smelled faintly of gasoline. “So we’re handing you off to one of our star-employees!”

You hummed and noticed her taking a step backwards, indicating you to follow. She began walking, trudging over the cobbled paths and shuffling awkwardly in between walls of people. You followed behind. “He’s been working here for the past two years, so he knows the place in and out.”

As you walked, passing twisting, gnarly tracks with screams emanating from them and stands with oversized, China-made plushies hanging from them, you tried to imagine what a star-employee at Caratland Theme Park looked like. 

It was probably someone that loved roller coasters, maybe someone like yourself, who strived for approval and perfection, maybe someone that found a certain joy in being a good service experience for guests. Someone who was good with kids? 

“So you’ll be training with him for a bit before we leave you alone with the coasters, of course, but it should be no trouble, he’s a fun guy!” 

You passed by a haunted house, where a group of kids psyched each other up in the queue. Dodging a tree, you finally came up on a certain blue ride where Belinda stopped and put her hands on her hips, power posing in front of the creaky, old machinery. 

The Pirate Swing. That’s what it was called, and it was a big ship attached to a huge, metal pole on each side, and it was currently swooshing up and down with a large, grating sound. You cringed at it. Belinda noticed and frowned, fingers fiddling with the edge of her shirt. “Maybe we should oil that one.” 

Kids and parents were lined up at the stairway leading up to it in a parade of artificial polyester colors, and on the edge of the platform where the ship was shoveling through the air, a little booth was sat. Peeking through the frankly grimy windows, you could see him. He was slumped back in a wooden chair, wearing the same shirt as you and Belinda, and wearing big, blocky, black sunglasses. 

“Jeonghan!” she called, and you saw the figure jolt. He looked briefly dazed, before he snapped his head up to peer through the glass, smiling and waving. The kids in line turned to glare at you. He scrambled up from his seat clumsily and with sporadic movement, and you both watched how he hunched over the door, shaking it in its frame before it finally let open. He took one long step out the door and was finally outside, looking down at you from the platform and leaning on the railing. 

“Belinda! Nice to see you,” he breathed, smiling in a way that seemed to indicate he did not find the prior sequence of events embarrassing. In fact, he seemed to think he had the upper hand - the confidence rolled off of him in waves. You grimaced. 

You could see him much better now that he was outside, not broken up by the greasy glass, and whatever you had envisioned the star-employee to look like, this was not it. He was young, maybe just a little older than you, and he was thin, with long black hair that just kissed his shoulders. About half of his face was hidden away behind the frankly humongous sunglasses on his face, but he had pale pink lips and a pronounced cupid's bow, and even though you were a little skeptical of him, the cockiness in his smile was well-received. 

“This is Y/n!” Belinda said (yelling to overpower the severely loud child glee), gesturing to you, and you almost felt self-conscious when he looked over at you and smiled. “She’s a new employee and you’ll be her mentor during her training period.” 

“Sure thing!” he said simply. Again with the polite nods, you thought, before you felt Belinda’s hand on your shoulder. You glanced over and she squeezed. 

“Good luck, Y/n! You’re in great hands!” Now that you weren’t so sure about. Had the two of you not seen the same thing? 

You mumbled a thanks and she padded away, once more dodging and weaving through huge chains of people, and you squinted after her, before you turned back to Jeonghan. He was already looking at you, a lazy smile on his lips. 

“Welcome to The Pirate Swing, matey! Get up here and let me show you the ropes,” he padded back to the booth, now visibly more relaxed, as his back returned in a hunch. “I should probably stop the ride,” he mumbled to himself, pressing a button on a long controlpanel with a grid of eight buttons. 

You climbed up the stairs unsurely, hand smoothing over the railing as you went. At the top you squeezed in beside Jeonghan. It was a fairly small space, just big enough for the two of you to stand next to each other. Jeonghan smiled a straight smile at you, before brushing past you to let out the dizzy guests. 

“Was it a good ride?!” You heard him ask distantly, while you studied the interior of the booth. 

It was reeking with a sweet herbal stench, and for a moment you might’ve chalked it up to sweat and cologne, but when your gaze danced over the grid, you became aware of a small, open ziploc of weed on the countertop, crumbs of it dotted by the opening. An energy drink, most certainly warm from the sun flowing in, was perched next to it, and you saw more cans by the foot of the wooden chair (it seemed like a chair that had been dragged in from somewhere else - it was almost reminiscent of the one from your grandma’s house).  

You grimaced, looking over to where Jeonghan was waving kids off and shuffling over to let in people from the queue, a big sign for checking heights in his hand. The sunglasses, of course, you thought and frowned at the room. Luckily it seemed pretty straight forward, so maybe you could escape this Jeonghan character earlier than two weeks. 

“Right,” Jeonghan clapped his hands together, pushing past you again. “This is how you turn it on,” he said and pressed one long, skinny finger to a black button that read ‘dispatch’. 

Sure enough, the huge metal set to work again, screeching as it lifted a boat-full of nuclear families through the air. 

“You turn it off with this other one. Usually rides just stop by themselves when they reach the end, but since we got a little shitty one today it’s manual.” 

“Okay,” you said, nodding along and watching when his hand danced and pointed to the set of buttons.

“That’s pretty much it!” he said, collapsing in his chair again, sunglasses sliding halfway down his nose and revealing his bloodshot eyes. 

“What about the other buttons?” you ask pointedly, arms crossed.

“Don’t worry about them, sweet cheeks,” he waved you off. “They don’t do much.”

The empty cans by his chair clattered when he reached down a hand for one, toppling over and hitting the metal flooring. You scrunched your nose in disgust. 

“I like your shirt,” he mumbled, nimble fingers picking up a particular empty can. It was bent on one side, little holes pricked in it - it was a makeshift bong. You scoffed at him. This was the star-employee?

“We have the same shirt,” you deadpanned. 

“Yeah, but I like yours better,” he grinned lazily, can now in hand, when he leaned forward to fetch the ziploc of weed. “Nice and tight.” 

“You’re gross,” you spat, brows furrowed. “This is a kid’s establishment, you know that, right?” 

“Ninth graders fuck here all the time,” he shrugged. You gasped, not only because it was an extremely gross fact, but also because that was not what you were suggesting. “I’m referring to the fucking weed in your hand, jackass!” 

“Woah, calm down!” He shushed you, and you might’ve genuinely scared him, because he looked around each window of the booth, light cascading down his tan skin. He was wearing a pair of shorts, and you saw his knee bounce. When he’d secured the area, he turned to you with a hiss: “That’s a secret, woman! You can’t just throw words like that around.” 

“Then maybe you shouldn’t smoke here!” You snapped, but Jeonghan was doing exactly the opposite. Ducking down so it wasn’t totally visible from the windows, he’d placed a little nugget of weed on the grate, and was now setting it alight with Transformers-print lighter.

“This is your first day, right? Trust, you’re gonna end up being high on the job too,” he ended his sentence by placing his lips around the mouth of the can, sucking in smoke.

“That’s such a safety hazard,” you murmured, looking down at him from where you stood. He pulled away, smoke still in his mouth and you saw a twinkle in his eyes from above his falling sunglasses. Then he lunged forward and blew it into your face, a concentrated stream of weed smoke bouncing off your shiny cheeks. “Hey!”

You sputtered and spat, shoulders tense and straining against the fabric of your shirt. Jeonghan settled back down in his chair, legs spread.

“The kids love me! With or without weed!” he said, voice a little groggy from the smoke. You coughed, discontent. 

“Maybe they love you because you get them contact-high,” you mumbled under your breath. Jeonghan grinned at that. 

Suddenly he leaned back in his chair to study you, one hand on the can, the other taking off his sunglasses. He stared up at you with fire-red eyes and soft, long hair and a bemused grin on his lips. Seeing his full face, you gulped under his intense gaze. He was really pretty. Annoying. More annoying than pretty. But still. 

Distantly, kids screamed and a constant buzz of countless conversations overlapped in each inch of the park. Jeonghan reached out a finger and poked your jean-clad hip once. 

“You’re funny,” was all he said, something resembling curiosity in his eyes. “Yeah. Funny girl with the tight shirt.” 

You were going to retaliate (they truly had run out of your size and had opted for this as a temporary option, it wasn’t your fault!), but Jeonghan coughed suddenly, eyebrows furrowing as he sat back up in his seat. 

“Oh shit, should probably stop the ride now.”  _____________________________

You thought about quitting. 

You could honestly say that Jeonghan made you think about quitting, and maybe you would even have brought the plan into action, had it not been for the fact that you had been rejected from just about every other job that you’d applied to. It seemed you were stuck. 

You showed up the next day in your shirt and it felt even tighter than the day prior, and the cap tightened around your scalp like you were a toy in a claw machine. 

Fortunately for you, the park seemed much less crowded today. It was a Wednesday, parents were still working and apparently no one sought out the thrill of scary, old, decaying rides on such afternoons. You admired how much lovelier it was when it was still, as you walked up to The Pirate Swing. 

“Hey, titty-shirt!” 

The loveliness was ruined. 

Jeongan was standing on the railing with someone else you didn’t recognize, long, black hair swaying out from the rim of his cap. He waved enthusiastically, watching your form slump at his words. 

“Hey, Jeonghan,” you muttered, approaching the steps. The boy beside him looked mildly uncomfortable at the interaction. 

“It’s a good thing you’re here, N/n - can I call you N/n?” he didn’t let you answer, simply continued talking like a telemarketer. “Well, it’s a good thing you’re here. Me and my buddy, Junhui, from the Beetle Bug ride were just discussing something that I think is extremely valuable to learn about this place!” 

“Are you gonna teach me about the rest of the buttons?” you drawled, eyes half closed in feigned boredom (as much as you disliked him, it certainly wasn’t boring). 

“No!” Jeonghan snapped his fingers at you. You noticed he had this way of smiling, that irked you. It was void of sincerity and was instead wolfish and teasing, something genuinely animalistic and mean-spirited. It was distasteful.

“On days like these-” he hovers and outstretched hand to gesture to the mostly bare land of the theme park, “- you can steal food from the restaurants.” 

After just one eight hour shift with Jeonghan, you find yourself not even remotely surprised at this. You cross your arms over your chest (Jeonghan’s eyes briefly flick down to them, and you think you might actually hate him): “I have a packed lunch.” 

“Packed lunches are for geeks and nerds,” he said, unbothered. “You can come along if you want to get some delicious, warm pizza, or you can stay here like a loser and explain to every kid that comes by, that you’re not allowed to give them a ride on the coaster and watch them cry until you get fired. Your choice, babe.” 

“Don’t call me that,” you snarled. Jeonghan shrugged with puckered lips and the Beatle Bug guy - Junhui - scrunched his face in disgust at the two of you. 

“Not gonna lie, I’m gonna go find Seungkwan,” he said, not even attempting to hide his dismay for your dynamic. He brushed past you on the stairs, hands buried in his pockets. “If you guys fuck, do it in the bathroom Chan uses!” he yelled, trudging past the pillars that held up the haunted house. 

“Sure thing, Jun!” Jeonghan smiled, and you could punch him. Again that animalistic, joyful, laughing-at-you-not-laughing-with-you smile.

“What if I snitch on you?” you asked, hoping it would knock some sort of sense into him, but he only shrugged.

“Belinda loves me. Whenever she works on Valentine’s day, she cries in her office and I let her rant about her shitty boyfriends,” the visual was somehow not hard to imagine. Belinda in her office chair (you’d seen it once, and all you could say was the interior looked like something from a log cabin) and Jeonghan, 19, feeding into everything she said. “You can say what you want, but she’ll just fire you for making up rumors.” 

Your brows furrowed. “That’s so concerning.” 

“Nothing about this place works right,” he admitted and it was maybe the only time you’d sensed an ounce of truth in his words. “So, are you coming?” 

You hesitated. You really were working up a real distaste for Jeonghan, but talking to spoiled, crying kids seemed worse than anything else at the moment. You decided you could live through Jeonghan’s lewd comments and maybe make friends with some other park workers. 

“Okay.” 

“I knew you loved me,” he teased, and then grabbed your wrist from the top of the steps, bouncing down and pulling you along with him. “Hey!” you yelped, but Jeonghan was, as always, unbothered. 

He pulled you by a narrow walkway into the toilets, passing by a single, confused family, as you stumbled behind him. There was a fountain with a hen figurine on top, which he steered around, your arm jerking limply, as he went down a flower-walkway. 

“You do this often?” you remarked, out of breath from jogging to match his strides. 

“Oh yeah. Mingyu works there and he’s like 16, he lets me do anything,” Jeonghan giggled evilly, glancing over his shoulder once, and you gulped, and hated the way his eyes were so big and pretty, and the way his hair blowed softly along carvings of his cheeks. 

“It’s great that you have so many people here to enable your bad habits,” you said. Whatever sarcasm you portrayed in your tone, Jeonghan ignored it, still smiling when he said: “Right?” 

When you stopped you were standing on the backside of a blocky building - one of the many offers of food you provided, prices marked up to drain the suburbs of their cash. You felt something underfoot, and looked down on the gravelly, rustic pavement, only to see circa 20 cigarettes jammed in between the rocks. You scrunched your nose. 

“What? You don’t like cigs?” you looked up at Jeonghan’s voice, to see him grinning cheekily at you. His eyes sparkled and for maybe just a second it was kind of attractive. 

“I don’t..” you broke off eye contact. “I don’t mind, it’s just.. Is everyone here like you?” 

“Sweetheart,” he tutted, and you nearly flinched at the feeling of his long fingers tapping your cheek, cool on the warming skin. You looked back up at him and he had tilted his head to the side. Why was he being attractive? Why were you finding him attractive? “There’s no one like me.” 

Before you could respond, Jeonghan pushed open the backdoor, the heat of the kitchen simmering out in one brief wind, before it slammed shut behind him, and you were left, alone and dumbfounded on the stones in a mountain of cigs. 

Then you scoffed.

You stood for a moment, letting the fresh air cool the inevitable warmth on your cheeks, huffing (because you were annoyed, you told yourself, not because he had just done something terribly, horribly attractive!) and puffing with your arms crossed over your too-tight-shirt. 

Then you pushed open the door and stepped inside the tiled kitchen. 

The room was filled with steam and it smelled like canned marinara sauce and fake cheese and most of all it was unbearably hot - so hot and humid, you felt the particles of water sitting on the fabric of your shirt. There was a decidedly oversize pot simmering with sauce on a stovetop, and on a hotplate three untouched pizzas sat; one with potato-topping, one pepperoni and one margarita. 

A very tall boy was running frantically around the kitchen, three different kitchen utensils in his clenched fist like claws. Sweat was dripping down the side of his frowning face and red speckled his shiny cheeks. Jeonghan draped himself against the counter lazily.

“It’s just me today,” the boy, Mingyu, cried, “Thomas sent home the other two because there’s no one in the park, but I can’t do this alone!” 

“Seems real stressful, Gyu,” Jeonghan mumbled, leaning on his hand. 

“Yeah, so if you aren’t too busy, maybe you could stir the marinar-” 

“That’s really great, man. You’re doing God’s work. But hey, we’re just gonna-” While Mingyu’s back was turned, the tall boy hunched over the sauce, Jeonghan limply pushed the pepperoni pizza to the edge of the hotplate with a pair of tongs. He winked at you, scooping the pizza into his open palm. “We’re just gonna head out now.” 

“Jeonghan, please help me out and don’t-” 

Mingyu turned around and his tortured expression dropped into one of shock, his tense limbs falling limp at his sides. Jeonghan stood, hand in the cookie jar and pizza in his palm, frozen in front of him with a sort of cartoonish ‘oopsie’-face. Steam clouded the room while you watched from the doorway.

Mingyu’s eyes narrowed and when he spoke again, his voice was lowered in warning: “Jeonghan. We’ve talked about this. Put. The pizza. Down.” 

There was a moment of indifferent silence. Jeonghan contemplated.

Then he nodded, lips pursed and eyes cast down to the pizza.

“You know… I would.. But. Y/N, OPEN THE DOOR OR KNOCK HIM OUT!”

“WHAT?”

“OPEN THE DOOR.” 

You did. Apparently Mingyu hadn’t seen you, because he jumped at your voice behind him, body twisting to see you just in time for you to open the door and Jeonghan came scrambling out of it like a rat. You cannot believe you just aided this man’s crimes, you think, Mingyu’s expression of horror forever imprinted in your retina, before you followed suit. 

However bad Mingyu’s puppy expression made you feel, the rush of adrenaline as you bolted down the pavement under row after row of flowers and sunbeams brought forth something sinister and mean that had you giggling at your evil-doing. Jeonghan was laughing as well, and his genuine laugh was bright and bubbly and very unlike him. 

Mingyu sprung open the door behind you, yelling over your shoulders: “HOODLUMS! THIEVES! YOU’RE LUCKY I CAN’T LEAVE THIS SAUCE.” 

This made the both of you laugh even harder, disappearing behind another building, leading up to the chicken-fountain. You caught up to him, still holding the pizza in his open palms, now sweating and panting in between bright, heart-thrumming giggles. 

“I thought-” you panted, bending at your knees and warding away the image of the betrayed Mingyu. “I thought you said he let you do whatever he wanted.” 

“Yeah,” Jeonghan heaved, cheeks rosy and shiny, as he gently padded over to a bench with the pizza out like the plate in the hand of Oliver Twist. “That’s my bad. I forget he was 16 two years ago and has since then lost all respect for me.” 

This made you laugh. This had your eyes squinting closed and a deep, ringing laugh bouncing up your ribcage and your throat and exploding into the summertime. Eyes closed, you missed the way Jeonghan’s face lit up at that.

“That made you laugh? Self-deprecation?” he asked incredulously, but somehow amazed. 

“Oh,” you cried, opening your eyes and willing your laughter to calm. “I think it’s just the first time you haven’t been baselessly confident and cocky.” 

“Baseless?” Jeonghan echoed, face screwed in poorly-concealed glee.

“Yeah,” you nodded, face also screwed in poorly-concealed glee.

“What? Am I supposed to collect, like, fuckin’ data?” 

“Yeah, evidence.” 

“EVIDENCE?” 

You and Jeonghan went back to The Pirate Swing, splitting the pizza in the booth and every 45 minutes or so, letting guests on when they came by. He was still annoying and in all fairness he’d dragged you into his crimes against humanity. But. He was also a little funny and sweet. 

And the pizza did taste better than your packed lunch. _____________________________

Two days of normal work followed. 

There were too many people to really fuck around, so you and Jeonghan stayed in the booth, and you even managed to pressure him into telling you about the rest of the buttons, as well as the mechanics of the bigger machines. 

Everytime Jeonghan saw you he greeted you with “Hey titty-shirt!”, equally enthusiastic each time. Everytime the clock hands read 8 PM he pulled out his weed and began smoking. Everytime he began smoking he snaked a hand on the back of your leg where you stood (still no chair!) beside him, rubbing the flesh under his palm. You shooed him away half-heartedly, then felt guilty for not meaning it. Jeonghan was a sleazy piece of shit, but his hand was warm and felt nice on your thigh. You liked to tell yourself you were just lonely or something. 

“TITTY-SHIRT!” 

That Saturday you came walking into work, still wearing your shirt and your cap, and was immediately alerted to the fact that something was off; Jeonghan was ecstatic. 

He always had this front of joy and constant bemusement, but you’d learned to read how he yearned for his shift to end - you saw it sometimes when he gazed out of the windows of the booth, thinking you were surveying the kids. That day, he was happy. Genuinely. 

“TITTY-SHIRT!” he called again, causing a family of blonde children to turn their heads in dismay. He paid them no mind, rushing down the stairs with loud, trampling steps, to meet you at the foot of the platform, before you could even settle down in the booth. He grabbed your forearms in his hands and grinned at you childishly. You couldn’t help the small, bemused smile that parted your lips.

“Great fuckin’ news,” he said, “Belinda is fucking gone. M.I.A.”

“Okay?” you grimaced, unsure of what he was getting at. 

“Okay?! Do you know what this means?” 

“No, not particularly,” you mumbled. 

“This whole fuckin’ area,” he let go of your arms to motion vigorously to your part of the park. "Unsupervised. Unaccounted for.” 

“Okay?” 

“Okay?! This means we’re gonna go shoot the shit at the arcade, come on!” He threw a hand over his shoulder to gesture to the arcade area. You frowned and crossed your arms challengingly. 

“Shouldn’t we go take care of our coaster?” 

“Are you kidding me? If no one is working it, people just assume it’s shut down for maintenance. Come on, this only happens, like, twice a year!” He whined, stomping his worn-down Nike sneakers into the pavement and pouting at you. You hated to admit it made your facade melt like an overpriced ice-cream in the hand of a child. 

“Alright, but-” 

“Yes!” 

Without further nonsense, Jeonghan grabbed your hand in his, and began to once more drag you through the park. As you ran behind him, you looked at your interlocked hands and thought, briefly, that it wasn’t too bad to look at. And it felt kind of good. 

“What happened to Belinda?” 

“God knows, I think it was something with her kids.” 

“She has kids?!” 

You and Jeonghan messed around at the arcade - Jeonghan miraculously had been granted the keys to the arcade by Belinda (something about her trusting him?), and unlocked the machines and you played games with already-used coins. 

First was Whack-A-Mole, then the boxing game, then those motorcycle races, and then you played the basketball game.

“I’m gonna beat you!” you squealed, throwing a miniature basketball through the hoop with a small jump. You grinned in triumph when it landed right, punching the air like a dork and turning to him with victoriously glean. 

Jeonghan wasn’t even played, you realized. You’d been so caught up in actually landing the ball in the hoop that you’d managed to forgo the way Jeonghan leaned against his lane, eyes half lidded and shadowed under his cap. You turned to him, now much more aware that you’d been acting like a dork. 

“Uh, aren’t you gonna play?” you asked sheepishly, blushing. You wished you’d missed how Jeonghan’s lips quirked upwards at the sight. 

“No,” he sang, “I think I’m just gonna stay here and watch you play.” 

You narrowed your eyes, suspiciously, and that was all Jeonghan needed before he sighed and shrugged in defeat, like a criminal caught for his crimes.

“Sorry, I just like watching your tits bounce when you get all excited,” he deadpanned. Your mouth gaped open and crossed your arm over your chest.

“You’re so gross, Jeonghan!” you said, now thoroughly uninterested in playing anymore. Jeonghan only scoffed though, to which you snapped your head back to him with an outraged expression. He smiled at you in that cheeky son-of-a-bitch way. 

“Oh, don’t act like that,” he said cockily.

“Like what?”

He laughed, rolling his eyes, letting a small pause linger in the space between you. You hoped he couldn’t see the way your eyes twinkled with excitement every time he said something like this. As hot as he was, Jeonghan was a cocky, sleazy piece of shit and you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. 

“Like you’re scandalized,” he said simply. You wanted to respond, wanted to defend your honor, but Jeonghan saw right through you, and he took one step forward to speak again: “Like you hate the way I talk to you. You act all innocent and nice and so uptight, but you know what?” 

He took daring steps forward, one after another, until you were half-sat on the basketball machine and he stood, looming over you, surprisingly menacing despite the get-up. The air seemed to suddenly thicken and warm, tasting foul in your mouth. Then he leaned in, eyes glimmering brilliantly with amusement and that evil smile on his lips, breath hitting yours. 

“I think you love being treated like a slut.” 

Fuck.

He was so close to you, body heat rolling into you. You knew he saw the mechanisms of your brain turning behind your eyes, saw the fear when you realized he had seen right through you, and he smiled, and he might as well have had fucking horns.

He tilted his head, and, fuck, if every angle of his face wasn’t perfect. It was unfair. It was so unfair. 

“I-I don’t-” your voice was a meek, half-hearted protest, cut off before you could even begin.

“Yeah,” he laughed. “I think you do. You don’t just let any man massage your thigh, hm?” 

At those words, his hand dropped onto your thigh, finger digging into soft flesh. You mewled at the feeling, causing his grin to spread wider. 

“Oh, poor baby,” he pouted in fake-sympathy. “Am I making you wet?” 

“JEONGHAN!” 

Thank God for Kwon Soonyoung with the impeccable timing. 

Soonyoung was “the pool boy” - he did not work at the pools, but he was the victim of a dunking-machine that was set up in the summertime. Kids and adults alike paid to throw balls at a big, red button that would lower a trapdoor and dunk Soonyoung in ice-cold water. You’d seen it in action and it was pretty hilarious. 

At his voice, you and Jeonghan scrambled apart, his hand flying off your thigh and body twisting to back away from you, and you dropping off the machine and landing flat on your feet, blushing wildly and somewhat out of breath. 

Soonyoung, the poor boy, was sprinting through the park, stopping awkwardly where you and Jeonghan had been standing. He was out of breath and had a wild look in his eyes, like he was being chased by some supernatural monster. 

“Belinda is back! Get back to your coasters!” If he’d noticed your philandering he certainly didn’t mention it, breaking into a sprint again the second the words had left his lips. 

“Shit, thank you, Soonyoung!” Jeonghan yelled, receiving only a limp thumbs-up from the trackstar in response. Jeonghan grabbed your hand and the two of you ran back to The Pirate Swing as fast as your legs could take you. 

Your heart fluttered at your interlocked hands again, and you stared at them, focused on them, as the world became a blurred mess around you. His warmth streamed into you.

You couldn’t even look at him the rest of the shift. Something about his confrontation stirred a mimicking phenomenon in you. Did you want to fuck Jeonghan? You did, you realized, and thus you were unable to raise your gaze from the floor, pressing yourself against the wall to be far enough away from him, that he couldn’t touch your thigh again. He didn’t. He just let your cheeks blaze and pressed buttons and talked to kids, and he even waved at Belinda when she walked by, and she smiled wide and waved back. 

You went home at 9 PM, shirt too tight around your chest, and chest too tight around your heart. You simply couldn’t believe it, because not only did you want to fuck Jeonghan;

You had a fucking crush on him. _____________________________

Having a crush on Yoon Jeonghan was maybe the worst revelation you’d had in your life.

You’d kept all the things you admired about him hidden under the veil of your shirt; he was sleazy and gross and he smoked weed at work and had a certain disregard for child safety. But, and there was always a but, you realized, he was also witty and easy to talk to, and it was cute when he was happy or he got excited about something, and he was so damn charismatic, and you realized you would do anything to see him with that childlike joy again. 

The worst part was that Jeonghan did not like you back. In fact, you couldn’t even imagine him liking anyone. He thought you were hot and wanted to fuck and that was the end of it. All the ways you cared about him were unreciprocated. He did not care to see you happy. He did not care for the twinkle in your eyes when you were excited. He liked your tits in your shirt and was working his fingers up, day by day, to touch you. Yoon Jeonghan did not like you back. 

Three days of work passed, three days of being muted and awkward around him. Jeonghan’s shine was not dulled by your lack though. The kids loved him, Belinda loved him, and he didn’t love anyone back - just let himself be showered in admiration. He was greedy like that. He took all the love and gave none out.

On this particular day, all you did was lay in your bed before work, willing time to stop so you wouldn’t have to go. Legs flopped on top of your bedsheets, work shirt on and cap on your bedside. You waited.

You waited with a metal ball in your stomach, rolling around and causing a ruckus. It rested heavy there, rolling to and fro and grazing your heart from time to time, and it hurt. 

Maybe the reason it felt this bad was because you did it to yourself. Of course, Jeonghan wouldn’t like you back. He was Jeonghan. And yet, you’d had your guard down and his effortless charms had worked their way into your brain. You wondered how many girls had been in the same exact position as you; being graced with Jeonghan’s presence, being smitten by it, and now lying in bed, realizing the admiration would never be bounced back to them. 

You went to work. 

In the damn shirt, you walked in through the staff-door and journeyed towards The Pirate Swing. 

There were so many people that day, you could hardly believe your eyes. The queues were mile-long stretches, and every pathway was spotted with body after body, walls of families, crowds swarming like insects. It was enough to induce a slight panic. 

“It’s good that you’re here, Titty-shirt,” Jeonghan said, when you walked into the booth beside him. He had a bit of a wild look in his eye and he was chewing on a banana. You stood by the door of the booth, looking out at the queue - a genuine queue? To The Pirate Swing? - as the boat swung catastrophically behind you. “We’re fucking busy.” 

You hummed, then turned your head to him. He had sat down, seemingly exhausted and pouting a little. 

“You brought a packed lunch?” you asked, nodding towards the banana in his hand and he looked up at you. His cheeky smile made you want to die. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, I stole this from Seungkwan,” he said and you laughed, and you hated that he made you laugh. The walls of the booth muffled the loud, indistinct buzz and shielded you from the chaos. The flimsy, windowed walls had never felt as intimate. 

“It’s gonna be a shitty day,” you declared ceremoniously. He grunted something in agreement, voice strangled by the now finished banana. Forever himself, he discarded the peel on the corner of the control panel, among his ziploc of weed and empty cans. 

It was a shitty day.

The constant swarming of people, crying children, the non-stop screech of rusted roller coaster tracks; everything brewed together into a pounding headache, as you and Jeonghan hunched together in the booth. Beads of sweat collected on your skin, where the unforgiving sun streamed through the windows. 

Around 8 PM you’d had just about enough. Your head was pounding, you were hungry, and most terribly you were sad. You were sad, sitting next to Jeonghan on the dirty, hard floor of the booth, and you could cry every time he said something snarky and lewd to you. He would never like you and you were a fool for ever letting yourself get attached. 

The day was constant work, constant talking to kids and putting on an energetic front. Finally the crowd seemed to thin out. Slowly but surely, the suburban families returned home and only a few people remained, and the night time glowed soft and warm. 

“Dude,” Jeonghan said, neck craned to look at his phone. With most of the guests gone, he’d finally gotten a chance to waste away on his phone, putting his mouth to his makeshift bong and smoking pot. You kept the booth-door open to let the smoke out. “Wanna go see a crowd of teenagers dunk Soonyoung? Junhui just texted me.” 

You were so tired. Every inch of your body yearned to relax where you sat, cross legged on the metal floor. With dark, sunken eyes and no courtesy left, you simply shook your head. 

“You sure?” he asked, eyebrows raised. You were just tired enough to miss the small frown on his lips. 

“I’m tired, you just go.” 

Jeonghan shrugged then and stood up. He left the bong on the floor and stepped over you to exit. 

“I’ll be back ASAP!” he yelled out, and you didn’t even try to look at him, to call something witty back. You just sat. 

And as if it weren’t the last thing you needed today, just thirty minutes before closing, a woman and her son strolled up The Pirate Swing. You saw them, eyes glazing with worry as you flickered your head to Jeonghan’s empty chair.

“We want a ride!” cawed the woman, holding her son by the hand. You scrambled to your feet, stuttering as you dusted off your pants. 

“Uh, I-” hopeful, you looked around, hoping to see Jeonghan and his long, poodle-y hair somewhere near. The pathways were deserted. “I-I actually can’t-” 

Not waiting for an explanation, the woman clucked once more: “You’re still open, aren’t ya?” 

You nodded, tiredness painted thick and greasy on your face. “Yes, we are, um, open, but I-” 

“Well, then give us a ride?!” 

This woman was going to be the death of you. Why were they even here now right before closing? You closed your eyes, collecting yourself and mustering each ounce of patience you had left. 

“I’m not allowed to because I’m new-” 

“Well, where is the operator? Why are you here if you don’t know how it works!” 

“He’s, uh,” your face fell, “He’s using the bathroom right no-” 

You’re not even sure why you lied. 

“Alright,” she huffed, strained and impatient. “Well, you just ruined me and my son’s night!” 

She tugged her blonde kid by the hand and began to turn around, grumbling with a red face. 

“I’m so sorry, but- it’s a matter of safety-” 

“Next time just say you don’t know how to do your job!” she yelled over her shoulder, mean glare coming out over her shapely glasses. Then she was jiggling away with a pouting child. 

Your mouth fell open in shock. A part of you wanted to be angry - a part of you was angry - but you found yourself weighed down and sliding down the wall of the booth with a much heavier feeling; you were exhausted. 

This was the last straw for tonight, you decided, resolve melting like a dropped ice cream. Booth door half-creaked open and weed vapor in the air, you buried your head in your hands and began to cry. It was small. It was not loud and sorrowful, it was small and petty. Nothing grand about crying on the dirty floor at your workplace. Sniffles and single, wet tears and a quivering lip, all dying out in the soft glow of the fairy light decorating the park.

“Y/n?” 

“Shit,” you lifted your head from your hands, wiping hard on your reddened cheeks. Jeonghan was standing in the open door, looking down at you on the floor.

“Sorry, uh-” 

“Why are you crying?” 

You paused, hands fiddling with the collar of your shirt and effectively covering your breasts. Your breath was shaky and snotty, eyelashes coated in tears. Red patches your skin around your puffy eyes, and your lips pressed into a thin line. 

Jeonghan did not look like himself when you looked up at him. It must have been a completely different person, you decided, because his features had  tightened and screwed into an expression you had never even seen a hint of before: concern. 

It looked so utterly foreign on his face - there was always a lightness to his expression, a joking, teasing look, but now he was frowning and his brows were furrowed and his eyes were big and red and round. It made  you feel small and frail. You didn’t like seeing him like that; unwell. But it seemed that feeling was mutual. 

“Um,” you began, voice hoarse and shuddering like a frail old fence-gate, that’s been slammed shut. “I’ve just had a shitty fucking day and- this woman came and wanted to ride and she was just so fucking mean when I told her I couldn’t..” 

Telling it all again made you feel so pathetic, it wracked another sob from you, hurdling past your lips. You caught it in your hand, pressing it to your mouth and squeezing your eyes shut up. 

God, you were pathetic. 

But your heavy, heavy eyelashes blinked open and you looked up to see Jeonghan’s expression softened into something else entirely;

Guilt.

“I’m sorry,” he said immediately. 

“No, it’s fine-”

He dropped to his knees in front of you, now at your level and up close, so you could see every tensed muscle and every strain on his beautiful face. 

“I’m sorry I left you alone,” he said solemnly and for the first time since you’d met him, Jeonghan was merely expressing his regret, not bartering for some sort of gain. His words were dripping with sincerity and it was so strange, you had to laugh.

“What?” he asked, a small grin growing on his face. That was more familiar. 

“I just- I’ve never seen you so serious, it’s okay, Jeonghan, I forgive you-” 

He broke into a laugh as well, rhythmic clucks dancing through the air from the booth, and it immediately cheered you up: he was beautiful and practically glowing, a small rim of light encapsulating him. 

“I’m very serious, I think,” he said. You rolled your puffy, old eyes. 

There was a significant pause. 

Your head lolled over and your gaze landed once more on the makeshift bong by the chair, now abandoned. It reminded you of how different you were. You tried too hard because you liked when people liked you, you were a hard worker, your shirt was too tight. Your shirt was too tight and that’s what had landed you in this situation. 

“Can I…” you trailed off, daring to look at him again. “Can I smoke some of your weed?” 

Jeonghan’s face was practically split in half the way he was smiling. There was something akin to triumph in his eyes, but it was almost fatally overpowered by sheer, bubbling, striking adoration. It made you blush. 

“Of course, babe, I thought you’d never ask,” he breathed, still smiling when he scrambled forward for the bong and stretched out his arm to finger at the control panel, finally feeling the soft plastic and snatching it down to the floor with you. 

“Just put your mouth to the can, baby, I’ll light it for you,” he giggled giddily, scrambling for the lighter in his pocket. 

“I know how it works,” you tried to sound stern, but you were smiling and your eyes were twinkling. 

Jeonghan messily pinched off a nugget of weed and placed it on the gridded holes in the can (which he had pricked with his work badge; “Hi, my name is Jeonghan!”), and you placed it to your mouth, while he held the lighter to it. 

“You’re so hardcore,” he said sarcastically, face close to yours as he flicked the lighter, sending a warm flame onto the can, so the nugget lit ablaze. 

“Shut up,” you said, and then you inhaled and the flame went out and turned into a glow, and warm, crisp smoke traveled down your throat, leaving it sore and burned. It felt great. 

You held it in for a moment, then exhaled, and Jeonghan watched eagerly as your chest rose and fell under the restricting fabric of your shirt. 

You and Jeonghan sat side by side for the last half hour, smoking together, eyes turning red and breaths turning sour and casting laughs into the night air. There was a warm buzz in your chest, a low drum, and you basked in the proximity to him, in how the heat of his body met yours in a fierce battle, at how he caught your eye when he joked, and how he smiled when you laughed. Your responsibilities melted away; your shirt felt looser. 

“We’re closing now,” you hummed after a while, somehow lighter and heavier at the same time. Your eyelids felt heavy and your cheeks were warm from giggling. Jeonghan placed his hand on your wrist, squeezing and tearing your eyes to his. 

“I have such a good idea right now,” he grinned lazily and you couldn't help but echo it. His eyes were red and half-lidded, and his voice was groggy from the smoke. He had run his hand through his hair one too many times and now it was puffier, poodlier than normal. He looked so handsome, you thought, studying the tan from many days in the sun. You figured he didn’t use sunscreen. 

“What is it?” you breathed.

“Come on, come with me!” 

Then the two of you were sneaking from building to building and giggling indiscreetly, two hunched silhouettes becoming one with the backs of buildings. Jeonghan insisted the two of you go to the toddler playground (Sunshine Dance Club, as it were called), because, in his words: “those dumb prick security guards never bother to actually check it”. He pulled you into the pastel green, red, blue, and yellow dreamscape, pulling you up a wooden tower, where you would be shielded by the railing. 

The two of you sat against the railing and waited while a security guard checked the place before closing. 

The mischief had made the two of you even more giggly, scratchy throats producing choppy snickering, as you leaned into each other on the wood, breathing in each other’s air. You liked being so close to him, you thought, and you were almost high enough to just spit it out. The distant stream of light overhead revealed his pores, but you liked those too. 

“Shut up, shut up,” Jeonghan whispered at one point. “I think he might be coming!”

“You’ve said that three times-” 

His hand clasped over your mouth and he fought not to laugh at the surprise in your eyes. Sure enough, this time he was right, as you heard booted footsteps in the distance, and the beam of a flashlight danced across the sloping and bouncing playground. 

You held your breath, not only because you feared, for the first time that night, getting caught, but also because Jeonghan had leaned so close to you, that you could see every stirred acrylic in his eye, every color of brown, swirly sundae. 

Both of you stopped laughing and stared at each other. 

His hand dropped from your lips. 

“I have cotton mouth,” he whispered, footsteps fading away. You couldn’t tell if it was the weed or what, but the air seemed thicker and you felt heavier, like imaginary hands were tugging you down. Jeonghan was no better - you couldn’t quite place the emotion on his glowing face. He almost seemed vulnerable.

“Me too,” you whispered, breathless. 

A pause.

His eyes flickered down to your lips, pink and plush.

“Can I kiss you?” 

You were almost bristling for a moment in pure surprise, before you recollected yourself and nodded eagerly.

“Yeah.” 

You thought his lips would smash into yours; you thought he would conquer you, because that would simply be the most Jeonghan-thing he could, to take what was his, to be cheeky and horny and sleazy.

To your utmost surprise, his hand was shaking when he lifted it, brushing so softly, so gently across the skin of your neck, resting on the back of it, cold from the icy, night breeze. His hand kissed the tips of your hair, and he gently slid it up, breath shaking, as he stared at your lips. Then he leaned in. 

His lips were soft like the bouncy castle on the edge of the playground, so impossibly gentle and flowing and warm. He breathed out shakily against your skin, eyes squeezed shut. Had you seen it, you would’ve almost believed that the kiss pained him, with the furrowed brows, but you didn’t, and it wasn’t painful at all, it was just that his heart was exploding and so was yours. Tender and slow, that was what it was, and you had never thought you’d use words like that to describe him.

A moment of entangled lips, slow making out and warm air covering your skin, his hand in your hair. The Sunshine Dance Club was filled with the sound of spit.

Then he pulled away, breath still shaking, but now, less vulnerable. His lips curled into a smile, spreading that childlike joy on his face. It made you smile as well. 

“That was-” he shook his head at himself, cringing. Then he restarted: “Can I show you something?” 

You chuckled, cheeks heavily flushed and eyes twinkling. “What is it?” 

The cheekiness returned to his eyes, as he scrambled to his feet: “A surprise.” 

And once again the two of you were giggling through the park, this time hand in hand, looking over your shoulders for the security guard that by this time had definitely gone home. The halted steps over the cobbled paths echoed in the dead, empty park. 

It would’ve been a strange feeling - seeing everything closed and dark and empty, every inch usually crammed with people strangely void - had you not been entirely consumed by Jeonghan’s presence. His hand in yours, his laugh, his starry eyes, his face softening when he looked at you.

Jeonghan led you into Belinda’s office (he had a key because he was her favorite, he said), allowing you to sit on the edge of her desk, while he sauntered off into an attached room. You sat there, overhead light dull and buzzing, and basked in the log cabin aesthetics. Your chest was warm.

Then, from beyond the other room, sounding much further away and thereby being much bigger than you had initially imagined the attached room to be, you heard the mechanical sound of several switches. They sounded heavy and important, having a sort of resonance that continued into your room, where Belinda’s desk chair was spun halfway. 

“Jeonghan?” you called, a twinge of worry in your voice. “What did you do?” 

He came jogging back into the office, all wide grinned and puffy-eyed. 

“You’ll see.” 

Once again he grabbed onto your hand, pulling you off the desk and barging out of the doorway.

The night air enveloped you completely, stealing you away from the warmth of the office, kissing your warm skin, as you stood on the cobble. The feeling was so great, you almost missed what Jeonghan had done.

It was beautiful. 

The switches had turned on the lights everywhere. In every color imaginable, illuminating dramatically sloping tracks in the distance, fairy lights on the pathways, signs re-lit, and the whole park before your eyes seemed to have become a disco-ball, sending faint streaks into the star-spotted sky like aurora borealis. 

You, now red and green and yellow and blue, let out a disbelieving laugh, smiling wide. You squeezed his hand, unable to communicate further. There was something about it that left you entirely speechless. It was an inability to overcome and conquer the lights before you - your eyes feasted on them much too eagerly. 

“What do you think?” 

Jeonghan was looking at you. 

“It’s-” you sucked in a breath, trying to compose a sudden sincerity you felt. You looked over at him. “It’s so pretty, Jeonghan. It’s really beautiful.” 

“I knew you would like it,” he murmured happily, body turned to yours. You turned to him as well. 

There was a moment of silence. The two of you basked in the light and in the gentle glow and the cool night, and in each other. 

“Thank you for cheering me up,” you said and pursed your lips. He smiled in a gentle way. It looked nice on him. 

“It’s nothing,” he said, “we were having fun.” 

The conversation lulled again, and while you turned your head back to the light show, the flickering lights and the ombre, Jeonghan continued looking at you. 

You felt his eyes on you, and you turned to him, shyly: “You should look at the beautiful lights.”

He shook his head, lips twisting upwards: “No.. Not right now…” And that was all he said.

The words left a bit of a void in you, like a black hole sunk in your stomach and you turned to him curiously. Jeonghan sensed your confusion, because he licked his lips and gave you a knowing smile, and then explained. 

“I wanna kiss you again, love.”

And his voice was so angelic, such a grave contrast to the boy you’d come to know, but he’d been so strange tonight. Your first kiss had been so tender, now he was looking at you and his pupils were dilated and a smirk spread across his face, and you needed to know something; just one thing, before you threw yourself at him, and gave to him, something you would not be able to take back. 

“Do you just wanna fuck me?” your voice echoed off the walls of the empty park, resounding accusingly. He laughed.

“Of course, I wanna fuck you, baby,” he laughed a little, shaking his head in disbelief. You stayed staring at him, bristling. “You’re hot as shit.” 

“No, I mean,” you paused, because suddenly your heart was climbing into your throat and it seemed like everything you’d worried about was true, that you were just another girl that was hexed by his charms. “Do you just wanna fuck me?” 

His smirk dropped. There was a moment where all you could hear was wind and the electrical whirring of the many, many lights, draining energy from the earth by the second. 

“Do you honestly think I’d do this for just any girl I wanted to fuck?” 

“I-”

“I thought you were smarter than that, N/n,” his lips spread once more in a smile, but this one seemed more fitting on his face - condescending and confident. Whatever vulnerability had hung in the air was replaced by warmer, thicker danger. Was it the weed making you feel this way? On edge or excited?

“I just-” you stammered, feeling bashful suddenly. Did that mean he liked you? Yes, that meant he liked you. You had truly not even considered the possibility, not really thought it through the way you had the negative outcome, so now you were standing and you didn’t know how to respond. A stuttering, blubbering mess of red cheeks and avoidant eyes. “I just- I thought you just- because you talk so much about my boobs-” 

“Shhhh,” he shushed you. The cocky motherfucker actually shushed you, staring you down in a way that made you feel like prey and taking two steps forward, and closing the gap between you. He was so, so close to you, chest inches away from yours and leaning his face down to tilt his head at you. 

“You’re so cute, baby,” he cooed, eyes dancing around your face. 

You and him watched it, as one lean hand lifted itself to your chest, tightly wrapped in polyester-fabric. You sucked in a breath. His fingers lightly grazed it, trailing over the soft plushness of it. Then he cupped it, experimentally, like feeling the weight of it in his hand. You whimpered pathetically. 

“Hm,” he hummed, ripping his gaze from your tits very briefly at the noise, “you sound so pretty.”

In an effort to steal more noises from your pretty lips, his delicate thumb rubbed over your nipple, watching it harden under the fabric with a bemused smirk. Your breathing became heavy and shaky. 

“Can we– please?” you whined, but he only tutted, watching the fat crook under his finger.

“Hang on, sweetheart, I’m having my fun,” he said, nonchalantly, another hand snaking up to your other tit. “Been waiting for this since the first time I saw you.”

You couldn’t help but whimper quietly, his caresses and his intense gaze sending electricity straight to your core. You fingers wrapped around his forearms where they flexed, as he kneaded your chest eagerly. 

“That’s right,” he whispered and leaned into you, eyes half lidded and lips wet from spit. “Be a good girl and let me play with your pretty titties.” 

Then he kissed you again, groaning into your mouth at the weight of your tits in his hands. His groping became more rough and hurried, as he bit your lip and slipped his tongue in your mouth. 

“Fuck, baby, need to get your shirt off, it’s so tight,” he groaned, licking into your mouth. You whined, back arching into his hand. “Poor baby, shirt so tight it’s strangling your pretty tits.” 

“Jeonghan, please!” You cried, putting one hand on his chest to push him away from you. He pulled away, lips red and swollen and cheeks delightfully flushed. 

“Okay, baby,” he whispered, comfortingly. “Okay, okay, I’ll take care of you, sweetheart.” 

You could cry. The way he was touching you so intimately, but refusing to snake his hand down to your burning core, where you could feel yourself fucking dripping. Your body was on fire and your voice was hoarse from the weed that still coursed through your body. 

“Please, please,” you mumbled, and it was desperate enough that Jeonghan pulled his hands from your chest (which took more willpower than he was willing to admit), sliding them over your back and pulling you into him. You nosed into the crook of his neck, sighing happily. 

“Alright, baby,” He breathed, hand in your hair. You felt his neck crane, looking around. 

“Come with me, baby, I know just where to go.” 

You didn’t even have time to whine that you didn’t want to go anywhere, you wanted him to touch you. Jeonghan grabbed your hand and crossed the pathway, and you saw the yellow, lit-up sign for the funhouse before you disappeared into the entrance. 

The first room had a large circular hallway, and when you stepped onto the red plastic, it rolled a little. You and Jeonghan both stumbled rockily, and you nosedived into his chest. He laughed, steadying you with warm fingers on your waist. “Silly girl,” his voice cooed in your ear. 

“Jeonghan, please touch me-” 

“We’re almost there, baby,” he said, and he was being a little annoying, because he’d just played with your boobs and made you so fucking wet that your panties were sticking to your folds, and now he was trudging you through the hallways of a funhouse. You both skiddered out of the circular hallway with much trouble. 

The next room was slanted, and in your intoxicated mind, this was more than a challenge. The whole room was blue and your knuckles became celeste, as you gripped the slanted railing. 

“Jeonghan, I can’t-” 

Not another word out of your lips, before Jeonghan was scooping you up in his arms, walking with seemingly no problem through the room. “Shit!” you yelped when he did so, but he only smiled at you, a mixture of adoration and teasing. He ran with you, his bride, through a black and white doorway. 

The next room was the mirror maze, and Jeonghan’s face lit up at the sight of it. 

“We’re here!” he panted giddily, gently lowering you. You found your footing and looked around, a little speechless at how quickly he’d constructed this plan. There were at least 20 different angles of you, and you cringed at your own disheveled appearance and how your tiny shirt dug into your skin. A hall of reflection, the roof and flooring was pitch black and only you and him existed in the void, copycats at every corner.

You saw Jeonghan in the mirror, walking up behind you. He was smirking, planting his head on your shoulder and peering up at you, as his hands caressed your waist, riding up your shirt and exposing your stomach 20 times over. You hated to say it, but seeing his veiny, big hands on you made your breath hitch. 

“Was it not worth it, hmm?” he sang innocently, blinking at you with a bunched up cheek on your shoulder. His sleazy hands worked the fabric upwards, just under the impressive bump of your chest. 

His eyes flicked over to the most nearby mirror. Breath becoming shaky, his hands lifted the shirt, finally, over your chest, exposing your simple, black bra and the soft skin of your tits. You could breathe easier, without the fabric digging into your chest. 

“Fuck,” he hissed, soft hands immediately dipping inwards to touch over the skin. “Shit, you’re so perfect,” his voice was strangled, all composure gone as he looked at your chest with something akin to wonder. 

You moaned, feeling his dick, fully fucking hard from just playing with your soft mounds, grinding into your ass. Like a horny teenage boy, he moaned shakily, big hands covering your boobs and squeezing, and rutting into you from behind. As much as you wanted him to touch you, you couldn’t help but enjoy the sight of Jeonghan so utterly fucked out, using your body to pleasure himself. It was so erotic, the way his pretty face twisted in place and his fingers dug into the fat of your chest, panting into your neck. Then the sight untangled itself from your body.

“Sorry, sorry,” he was out of breath, removing his hips from your ass. “I got too caught up.” 

“It’s okay-”

He spun you around, pushing your body against the mirror. You stood back to back with your reflection. 

“No, it’s not,” he breathed, working your shirt the rest of the way off hastily. You lifted your arms to help the fabric off. 

You very barely registered Jeonghan snaking your pants off, and then his own clothes. You leaned your head on the mirror and you could finally breathe without the tight shirt, and you somehow felt stronger, not vulnerable like you would have expected. And when your eyes flicked to another mirror and you saw Jeonghan shirtless too, you realized the two of you were much more similar now. 

Jeonghan was standing in his boxers now, and you in your panties. 

“You know, I always thought you’d be more composed during sex,” you mused, returning your focus to him and smiling teasingly, because even now he was transfixed on your bare chest, heaving for air. Jeonghan scoffed, seemingly genuinely offended by this. 

“It’s not my fault your fat fucking rack has been staring at me through that tiny fucking shirt every day,” he spat, and in a sort of retaliation he cupped your pussy through your panties. 

Finally, he touched your cunt, and God, was it worth the wait, because it shot straight through your stomach, even the slightest touch on the cold, wet fabric. Jeonghan grinned cockily at the state of your underwear. 

“You’re one to talk,” he teased. “Your pussy is fucking weeping for me.” 

You moaned and your back twisted against the cold surface of the mirror, as Jeonghan slipped his finger upwards to circle your clit slowly. 

“N-ngh, fuck..” 

“There you go,” he said in fake sympathy, pouting, and even with his hand on your clit, you could almost believe it, because he just looked that angelic and pure. “Finally your greedy cunt has my hand, hm? Bet you’ve been thinking about this since we met.” 

He couldn’t help himself. He trailed his free up to your chest again. It just looked so delectable, unblemished skin, jiggling at every twitch and shake from you, and nipples hardened to pebbles. “I’ve been thinking about you since we met,” he sighed happily, pinching the nipples between his fingers and relishing in your strangled whine. 

Jeonghan slipped his hand in your panties, scoffing to himself at just how fucking wet you were, leaking from your hole like a slut, when his finger prodded at it. 

“P-Please, Jeonghan, please, fuck-” 

Your plea was cut off by Jeonghan’s hand gripping your throat. He smirked at your tortured expression, one hand circling your hole and the other wrapped around your neck, thumb climbing up your chin to rest on your lip.

“What do you want?” he tilted his head challengingly. You gulped, face flushed and baby hairs sticking to your sweat-gleamy face. 

“I-I want you to finger me,” you mustered, building up all the courage you could to hold eye contact with him and his lopsided grin. He raised his eyebrows, feigning surprise. 

“Really?” he sang, “you want gross, sleazy, perverted Jeonghan’s fingers up your tight, pink pussy?” 

You squeezed your eyes shut. Of course, all those moments of shaming him for thirsting over you. Now you were basically fucking naked, tits perked up from your arched back and writhing under him for just a single finger in your glistening hole. 

“Jeonghan, I’m sorry-” 

His thumb on your lip tugged downwards, effectively muffling your words and shushing you. He watched your pretty lip bend to the will of his thumb, humming. 

“Then say it,” he shrugged.

“Wha?” your speech was slurred by his heavy thumb.

“Say you want gross, sleazy, perverted Jeonghan’s fingers up your tight, pink pussy,” he repeated, acting exasperated, like it was your fault for not being able to keep up. Legs spread and utterly naked, you flushed and felt dumb, and you felt even dumber when you began to speak, and his thumb stayed where it was, weighing down your lip.

“I-I wan’ gross, sleazy, perverted Jeonghan’s fingers up my tight, pink pussy,” you slurred. Somehow the embarrassment translated into a wave of slick exciting your hole and landing on Jeonghan’s hand. He grinned at your obedience, hand pushing up so his thumb entered your mouth, pressing down on your tongue and the rest of his hand cradled your face. 

“Good girl,” he purred, head craned down to look at you, suckling his thumb with wide eyes. He finally heeded your request, two fingers pushing into your sopping heat. “Now suck on my thumb like the good, big-titted girl you fucking are while I make you cum.” 

He was immediately bullying his fingers in and out of you, curling them. Drool escaped where your lips wrapped around his thumb, as you moaned on it, feeling him poke and prod at your tongue with an evil smirk on his pretty face. You saw his dick print straining against his boxers in the corner of your vision.

“Been waiting for this pussy to be mine,” hummed Jeonghan, long eyelashes coming over his eyes when he looked down at you. “You know, if you’d been a little more cooperative I could’ve had my cock in you everyday for the past week.” 

You sobbed around his thumb, panting for air through your nose. His fingers felt so good, pistoning into you and so thin you could feel the bulge of each crooking knuckle churning in and out. His thumb sneaked back up to rub your clit again, and you clawed at his shoulders, trying to stabilize your suddenly shaking legs. 

Jeonghan let out the most erotic, guttural moan you’d ever heard, when he watched drool slip from your swollen, red lips and languidly ooze on your trembling chest. His face twisted in pleasure at the sight of them, becoming all shiny and slicked up from your own spit. 

“Fuck, you’re so pathetic. Can’t believe you’re fucking drooling all over your tits,” he spat, cheeks flushed as he leaned back to look at them, all pretty and slick and glowing under the maze’s fluorescent tubes. He slipped his thumb from your mouth to begin smearing the spit all over your skin. 

Your cunt pulsed around his fingers, clenching and unclenching as something in your belly tightened. You heaved for air, moaning loudly into the maze and practically crying. 

“F-Fuck, Hannie, f-feels s’ good!” you whined, chest thrashing under his needy hands. He lifted his gaze to smile at you, where he was crooked over to look closely at your spit-slick boobs. 

“I know, baby, I know. Cum on my fingers, now, m’kay?” He smiled cheekily, pressing especially hard on your clit. You saw white, orgasm so potent, you almost didn’t even register how Jeonghan dived into your chest, wrapping his lips around one of your nipples 

The wet, smacking of his lips and his pleased humming into the soft skin only spurred on your orgasm, as your cum coated Jeonghan’s fingers. His nose, buried in the flesh of your tit, breathed out a dam of warm air into it. 

His fingers stilled within you, slowly pulling out, while he continued to lap at your chest, warm tongue on your areola. You tried to catch your breath, but it was hard with how he moaned around your fucking tit, sucking and smacking his lips, while holding you to him. You cried out softly when he nibbled at it, to which he finally pulled away, smiling teasingly. 

There was something about the way he was so shameless about it, that almost made you feel even more ashamed, especially when you saw your form in the mirror, and how wet and red your boob was from his insistent sucking. You blushed deeply. 

“You gettin’ shy on me now?” he tapped your cheek, eyes twinkling. 

“Not used to seeing myself,” you mumbled sheepishly. Jeonghan’s ever lust-filled gaze was overtaken with a very deep, fundamental adoration. His smile became genuine - not teasing nor in feigned sympathy. Despite being the sexiest person he’d ever met, Jeonghan found you so severely cute in that moment, all heaved breaths and glossy lips and rosy cheeks.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, tapping your nose. The action would’ve been annoying were not entirely too fond of him at this moment. His eyes wandered, trailing down your collarbones and back to your cleavage. Then returned the lust: “Beautiful, pretty, gorgeous girl with big, bouncing fuckin’ tits.” 

His fascination with them was genuinely insane, but you thought he was pretty and sweet, so you let him marvel.

As if he could never get enough, he reached out one hand and cupped your tit again. 

“Are you gonna be a good girl and let me fuck your pretty tits?” Jeonghan asked, experimentally pressing the mounds together and licking his lips at the sight. He had to swallow (and he would never admit this) because the idea actually had him salivating. 

“Yes, Hannie,” you said sweetly, because although you really wanted his dick inside you, he had that twinkle in his eye that made your heart burst, and, indeed, you would do anything to keep the starlight blazing in his pupils. Jeonghan looked up with raised brows - this time, the surprise was not feigned. Swiftly, he grabbed your head and kissed you, deeply and appreciatively licking into your mouth. 

“Good girl,” he murmured, rowing the two of you away from the mirror-wall with his tongue down your throat. “Good fucking girl.” 

He pulled away from you, frantically looking around, and you simply waited for his command. He began to crawl onto the floor, lying down on the hard, sleek black flooring, resting on his elbows. 

“C’mere,” was all he said, and you sat down on top of him, confused. He wantonly pushed you by your shoulder so you rested further down, while he lifted his hip to free his cock. 

It was long and right by your fucking face. 

Impossibly pretty and pink near the tip, it oozed sticky, white liquid, dripping down the veiny side, and now you were salivating, because you almost wanted to take it in your mouth and suck his soul out. 

“Shit,” he groaned, studying your face next to his hard, heavy dick with a tortured expression on his face. It seemed his thoughts had traveled the same road as yours, because when he spoke, he said: “There’s so much I wanna do to you, doll. Give me another couple shifts, I’ll have your cum all over the fucking park.” 

Without another word, he leaned forward and grabbed each of your tits, hovering just below where his dick extended out, proud and tall like a gothic church. You helped by crawling further over his tan body, lying down on your stomach with your chest raised up. 

Jeonghan enclosed your tits around his dick, breath shaking and eyes blinking shut. The sounds he released were angelic, wetting and rewetting his fiery lips, and he struggled to keep his eyes open from the pleasure. He didn’t want to close them though, because the sight of you was insane. 

You were so pretty, smiling in adoration where you laid between his legs. Prettiest girl in the world, he thought, just letting him bounce your fat tits up and down his shaft like a good, obedient girl. Your rack was like a fucking cloud around him, jerking him off and spurting pre-cum on the already slick skin. 

“S-Shit, you’re so fucking- pretty-” he stuttered, breath trembling and face flushed. From every angle he saw you, perfect, pretty, cute and sweet you. Every version of you in the mirror was perfect, he realized, every copycat a perfect picture. 

“You’re pretty,” you mused, wrapping your hand around the lower part of his shaft where your tits didn’t quite reach and squeezing it. Jeonghan moaned, stammering the breathy noise. He gulped then. 

“I-I’m gonna cum, shit-” he sucked in a harsh breath. He could not believe how lovely you were, how witty and funny and sweet and how big your fucking tits were bouncing up and down around his cock. “C-Can I cum on them, baby?” 

“Of course, Hannie,” you obeyed sweetly, watching how he desperately bucked his hips upwards. Squeezing your hand around the base of his cock, you let out a final admission to help him cum: “Want you to cum on my tits, Hannie, want it so bad.”

Sure enough, it was that easy, because without warning long ropes of thick, white cum spurted into the valley of your breasts and climbed up to your collarbones and neck. Jeonghan cried out when he came, eyes finally squeezing totally shut and hips stuttering into your chest. He sounded angelic, even with his voice hoarse from the weed and grunting. 

You let him calm down, waited until his pants turned into soft, regular breaths, and released his now flaccid cock from your cleavage. 

“Oh shit, baby,” he sighed happily. “Come up here.” 

You crawled up to his chest, curling into his open arms and feeling him under your cheek. Your legs entangled on the funhouse floor, mirrors a little foggy from the sweat and the sex. It was perfect, lying in his chest, having him, knowing he wanted you and liked you. Perfectly timeless, you draped over each other limply. 

Or almost perfect. 

You wiggled your hips away from his body, hoping then he wouldn’t notice how you were still leaking from your poor, puffy hole. Jeonghan frowned when you did so, though, both hands grabbing your waist and tilting his head down to look at you. 

“What is it, baby?” he asked.

You looked away bashfully, shaking your head, but Jeonghan gripped your face in one hand, just as condescending as his thumb had been earlier: “You’re covered in my cum, baby. You’re not getting shy on me now. Tell Hannie what’s troubling you.” 

His voice was stern. You tightened your lips the best you could with his hand squeezing your cheeks together.

“I just..” you were embarrassed again, with how your words became muffled and slurred by his flexed hand. He paid it no mind though, looking at you intently to continue. 

“YouweresoprettyearlierIgotwetagain.” 

You squeezed your eyes shut. From beyond the dark void, you heard Jeonghan laughing. You opened your eyes and he removed his hand from your face, instead brushing it through your hair lovingly. 

You were gonna get whiplash with how lovingly he looked at you, how sweetly and with so much wonder and adoration; and how it stood in such a stark contrast to the words that left his mouth: 

“Baby, you just get up and bounce your fat tiddies around a little bit, I promise you, I’ll get hard in the next five fucking minutes. Then you can get my cock in your cute, greedy pussy. How’s that sound?”

Really fucking good.

[vortexbeyondthestars]

ok but like imagine turnabout serenade from valant's perspective. you've been working in garages and parking lots for the past seven years to make money and then this pretentious prettyboy german rockstar offers you a job. ok fine you need the money. you learn that the prettyboy is teaming up with a mysterious borginian singer. cool. you meet the singer and she looks fucking exactly like the girl you thought you accidentally murdered and had been blackmailed over by her dad until he killed himself. what. so you maybe try to talk to her except she has amnesia and (as far as you know) doesnt speak a LICK of english. and you cant even ask her about it through a translator bc her manager is murdered. you're already in shock. then you meet the daughter of her and the guy who you've had toxic old man yaoi beef with for the past seven years. shes all friendly and chirpy and calls you "uncle valant" even though you quite literally left to get the milk and never came back. you notice shes with a stickish lawyer who yells a lot and you see the fucking bracelet said woman you thought you killed owned. you are doing mental gymnastics and yhen remember that she had married another guy and could have had another kid. what the fuck is going on. the kids try to badger you for information but you're about five seconds away from a mental breakdown and just dip. like i cant even blame him. i would dip too

[sun-stricken]

Man I am so happy I found your blog. Like it’s so refreshing to see a gray blog about, well, GRAY. Anyways id love to hear some more of your headcanons about gray, maybe ones on his demon slayer traits as well. If that’s ok with of course😅.

if u like my blog u should see my notes app, its almost embarrassing how full of him it is

i struggled with this ngl, single character (even when its ur fav) hc list r weirdly difficult for me

BUT I DID IT SO ENJOY!

Grays has a scarily good memory, he can see something once and be able to recall it in almost perfect detail even years later

amazing for molding, horrible for embarrassing or traumatic memories though

If someone needs something done, they go to him

He has a lot of people that owe him favors on standby, and no he will not say how those favor came to exist

he has a patch of natural white hair in his bangs, he got it from his mothers side

He has a brown cat named Catnip

shes his pride and joy

he has boxes full of letters, notes, and cards people have given him since joining Fairy Tail.

He’s really good at talking himself out of situations, as someone else said, hes a bit of a diplomat

if theres a fight or job that requires no magic hes one of the best for it

Some call it gaslighting, i call it being a lawyer in another life

Grays like, terrifyingly smart, he knows what to say, when to say it, and how

if other guilds/maybe the council did scouting, hes at the top of the list

nobody wants him as an enemy

ESPECIALLY after he got his devil slayer magic

speaking of

devil slayers are the embodiment of cute aggression

he gets the random urge to bite people

theres an 80% chance that he’ll try to head-bunt people now

if he gets too happy he’ll try to throw smth

he has ‘fangs’, really sharp canines and he probably has a self-induced tongue piercing from how many times he bit his tongue from them

the tips of his fingers are black, whether thats a demon slayer trait, or a product of having two ice magics, which makes him work in prime frostbite temperatures, is unknown, they just are

Gray collects siblings the way Natsu collects father figures

He also has a larger male following than Erza, but its okay bc she has a higher female following than him :)

he wears eyeliner. i just. i need to say it.

i want to add smth thats in every fairy tail au i make but never explicitly stated

hes deaf, he was born hoh but its gotten worse over the years, especially after Deloria

he has lacrima hearing aids and will turn them off if someone is being particularly annoying and he just isnt in the mood

he stress cooks and has gotten pretty good at it

he has a recipe book full of Isvan style foods and those are his favorite to make

He realized hes lived in Magnolia longer than he ever lived in Isvan and it tore him apart

When he writes things down, its a mix of Fioren and Islavic/Isvani writing

when he gets tired or really stressed he speaks his native language without realizing

hes a secret theater kid

hes the type to hear a song and lie on the floor for a couple hours

he tries to say he doesnt, but my god does he live off drama

he flirts when hes nervous bc its a very fun image to me

a weird amount of ppl hes dated/friends with were his enemy/rival in a sense

THATS ALL TY FOR THE ASK SORRY ITS KINDA SHORT AND ALL OVER THE PLACE

[lorillee]

okay okay hear me out maya and diego for the duo bingo

I KNEW I COULD COUNT ON YOU GUYS youre my bestest friends for ever and ever. thank you for indulging me. ok ok ok frankly its literally CRIMINAL that for a relationship that is like literally half the crux of the final case of aa3 there is like. no content . at all. and it breaks my poor heart into PIECES its really truly does. like ok the thing is people only ever seem interested in exploring this relationship via mia but the problem is 1) i dont want it to just be about mia. yes obviously mia is the springboard for this relationship's existence in the first place since she's maya's older sister and diego's girlfriend but like come on guys you are all SO..... sigh. this is such wasted potential. come on 2) THEY NEVER DO ANYTHING INTERESTING WITH ITTTTT

okay because like. personally i think mia & maya's relationship is infinitely more interesting if maya has incredibly complicated feelings that she simply is trying really really hard not to address. like because in aa3 i think if you present mia's profile to maya, maya says that she really misses her and phoenix asks why she doesnt just ask pearl to channel her, and maya gives some complete bs non response of "ohhh i wouldnt want to burden her" or something. which makes no sense. like come on guys. really. anyways maya is the kind of person who really doesnt hold grudges - when people to terrible things her first response is generally more to sympathize with the victim and less getting angry at the perpetrator. even with the mask demasque case where she was a literal victim, she gets mad at phoenix for wanting to defend ron for like a few minutes before letting it blow over and moving on. furthermore, like any ace attorney character, maya also really loves avoiding her problems and trying super hard to Not Think About Them.

with this in mind i think the most interesting way to interpret her relationship with mia is that she does actually feel resentment towards her for frolicking off into the distance to become a lawyer and to some degree kind of abandoning her in the same way that their mom did, but the problem is because its maya her internal thought process goes "i am frustrated at mia for leaving me alone -> but mia loved me -> if mia loved me she wouldnt have wanted to hurt me -> therefore, the problem here is me unjustly feeling hurt as opposed to mia hurting me even if it was unintentional" and she would feel so guilty about having any sort of resentment towards mia (especially now that shes literally Dead) that she loops back around to pretending everything is Normal and Fine and Good so that she doesnt spiral into a guilt feedback loop. NOW. with this in mind.

ive already talked about this a bit between my art post and my mildly extended thoughts which im not going to bother repeating here so go read that if youre interested in the cuter details but objectively i think the best possible ending for diego is after he does his prison time, maya & pearl invite him to come live with them (he doesnt have a job, he presumably has no living relatives, and most importantly he's adjusting to having a significant disability in the world after spending the past like 5 years in prison and therefore absolutely somebody who should not be living alone right now). now ive already talked a bit about the cute stuff because like ok yes . i do enjoy some good domestic shenanigans. however . the fey family period drama is nothing if not full of mental illness and this needs some addressing.

both maya & diego have like . severe issues. with avoiding their personal problems but fortunately for us, . in the words of my good friend. avoiding your problems is really really hard when you invite them to live with you. because like the thing is - and something i think frankly doesnt get addressed enough in anything attempting to explore this relationship in the direction i want - is that ...... maya literally. she couldve died. yes he did put his life on the line to save her and yes that does mean something but also he literally let her walk into that situation in the first place, absurdly bad mental issues or not. and frankly i think maya SHOULD have complicated feelings on it i want that for her. obviously this would follow the same train of thought process as with mia in the sense of "well he saved me and if he wasnt there i Literally Would Have For Real Died and pearl wouldve been forced to live with my blood on her hands (dahlia possession or no) so i cant feel resentful a bit at all or else that makes me a Bad Person". and of course there's the wonderful added complication of the fact that the entire BttT situation is intimately connected to mia with whom she Already has Complicated Feelings That She Is Trying Really Hard To Pretend She Doesn't Have on. there's been a million things said on diegos many many mental issues and i already touched on that very briefly anyways in the earlier linked thought post so im not going to repeat the whole spiel but in short its my opinion that he definitely wanted to have his little redemption by death by the end of BttT but I Won't Let Him. hes not getting off the hook that easy. anyways obviously by the end of this whole thing the Issues come to a head and there is some sort of a serious conversation about the current Situation and obviously not everythings magically fixed, but now that we're not aggressively boxing up our uglier emotions and pretending they dont exist they can actually start getting addressed.

on a lighter note 1) this is very much like an edgeworth & kay situation where its like. diego is too obnoxious to not have a weird little girl following him around and making fun of him all the time to take his ego down a peg or two and 2) also as i said in that other post i wholeheartedly believe maya deserves as many older sibling figures as her heart desires <3 hes like basically her older brother in law anyways . also wait before you go take the gif thats looping in my head like a good 20% of the day

[swiftfootedachilles]

Hi! You asked for an ask and I’m always down to ask so…do you have any headcanons about Mickey’s time in Mexico?

wow you managed to ask me about the only thing of this show that i HAVENT rlly thought about so hats off to you

uhhhh okay first, PRE-MEXICO. i think mickey broke out in the first place because he knew ian wasnt gonna wait for him. i think if ian didnt break up with him and dedicated himself to being a prison boyfriend (?) mickey wouldve stayed in. (i also think he wouldve found a skeevy defense lawyer who owes the milkoviches some debts and appealed his conviction bc lets be honest its total bullshit that he got locked away just based off sammi's unreliable testimony. like where the fuck was debby to lie under oath and say mickey was with her the whole time and she saw sammi take more pills than usual and go outside to move things. sorry im losing the plot this is NOT the time to discuss my s6 rewrite.) mikey haf absolutely no reason to stay in prison, stay in chicago, so i think after nearly 2 years of no visits from ian he just gave the fuck up. why not try to escape? hes smart, he can conjure up a decent plan, right? worst case scenario he goes back to prison, which didnt really fucking matter to him bc he was in prison anyway and he just. didnt care anymore.

so, he broke out and contacted ian ina last-ditch effort to get the love of his life back. he knew ian wasnt gonna wait for him, but at the docks hes obviously still shocked to hear ian moved on fast enough to have a boyfriend already. then ian agreed to go to mexico and mickey was SO READY to start LIVING HIS LIFE. he thought that would be IT. him and his lover in mexico at the beach, getting away from all the bad memories of chicago and having a place to START OVER!!! then ian changed his mind last minute and mickey was fucking CRUSHED. AGAIN. and all of a sudden now hes in mexico alone and all his previous plans went out the fucking window because he totally didnt spend the past few days rearranging his plans to revolve around ian being with him.

i dont really think a lot about mickey's time in mexico. i think he was sad. i think he was angry. i think he just did what he could to stay alive and try to move on but he never really didnt. i think he kept his head low and did his job in the cartel and tried to learn spanish but it was too fucking hard so he gave up on that pretty quickly and attached himself to the multilingual members of the gang. i definitely dont think he had a boyfriend. im sure he fucked around with other guys, but i also think he spent more time laying in his shitty apartment that he shared with like 4 other guys trying not to cry too loud thinking about what could have been.

i also dont think he worked for el chapo lmfao sorry to anyone who thinks that but the timeline doesnt even line up. and if he somehow did have a part in taking down el chapo he wouldve been put in witness protection. he probably wouldve gotten killed anyway tho

my dumb ass didnt realize he got a new tattoo until like deep into s10 and i gaslit myself into thinking it was always there LMFAO but i love that he got another tattoo there. i like to think this one was with a clean needle. i dont think this happened in canon, but MY mickey wouldve gotten a tongue piercing! perhaps other ones too. a couple other tattoos, a cartilage piercing, an eyebrow, his nipples. idk. just to change his appearance more. yeah. thats. the only reason.

anyway i think he got back into the US by working with an undercover cop and being a part of a pre-planned drug bust that included him being "arrested" and making it seem like he got extradited to the US only for being wanted. if he wouldve just waltzed into a precinct and said "hey i got dirt on this cartel" his as wouldve been killed so quickly. it needed to be a lot more covert so the other members didnt catch on and get rid of him. i do think eventually they probably figured out he was the anonymous witness whose interviewed were used in trial, which is why when he gets released in s10 the CO tells him the cartel is looking for him. sorry im going all Law & Order here talking about a s6 trial and now a trial against the cartel i need to stop

[richardsphere]

Leverage Redemption Log: The Unwellness Job

We start this episode in a room with an expository camera-pan past some pictures and boxes of MLM herbal remedies. --- Client is a doctor, suspects its an autoimune disorder. All tests are inconclusive.

what in the heck is a "maven"? (google says "expert or connoiseur") Parker will be too busy with the International part of the branch to do much in the first few acts. --- Our marks are Bronwyn and Melanie. (former is Influencer, latter is about to have a medical licence revoked)

"have you ever fought a shark" Breanna, do you even need to ask?

Well, the rabbit hole is working off some pretty evil word association. Lets ensure that by the end of the day, half those words will be coming from Bronwyn's own mouth.

I side with Breanna, what is with the knives today? --- Ok so we're introducing a third mark: Bitcoin Bastard. Because we really needed a second pyramid scheme in this plot. (im worried this'll get cluttered quickly)

Bronwyn seems actually excited by the idea that nanobots are real. Privacy is dead, and Breanna is absolutely right: Her generation doesnt know what it means because Sophies generation killed it. --- Elliot is playing a slightly-creepy pseudo-hippie? ("i listen to their eternal song" feels verry... serial-killer-ey? but then anything with "eternity" sounds like "death" so i guess its just that)

"sweet nectar" like its the way he says it, definitly intended to be creepy.

No Melanie, dont apologise you are the only sane one here.

I legitimately didnt recognise Breanna until i rewound the scene cause i was like "who the heck is Zazi?" --- I like Sophie's yellow jacket. Classic divide-and-conquer, plead to Bronwyn's ego, make her remember how she's too good for Melanie. Honeyed handshake (of eternal life... they're definitly setting up Elliots character to be some kind of serialkiller. Would be a good scandal, but also... kinda likely to backfire if she just backs out and becomes the Hero of the Beautyscene by outing her competitor as a serialkiller....) --- Parker has grown enough in the timeskip that she now refuses to push people off roofs unless they have roof-jumping-training. Good for her. --- Bitcoinbro wants to use the MLM to harvest private medical data. Because of course.

Sophie is actively hating herself every moment she spends with Bronwyn. --- You launched too early. She hasnt yet said anything that would associate herself with Hank specifically, just with bees and honey in general. You've given her an enemy to rally against to become more succesfull by claiming that her honey-based products are different from Hanks.

unpaused the episode, i was right. (though she's not selling honey but stinger-juice). Good quick thinking on her part though. 10/10. --- I absolutley agree with sophie, stealing thoughts in exchange for ones and zeroes, where's the style, the panache.

"I've been keeping up on my evil-lawyering reading" 7/10. Sophie pulling the "only one who really understands", Harry doing the Accountant Special

Breanna's digging a little burrow of her own (and she's a good digger) Even if he didnt go down it he'd still be paranoid (because he's guilty of moneylaundering and doesnt want to get caught) so its only really a cherry-on-top but its a well-crafted one. --- Melanie is in the studio so Breanna needs to distract her. Time to turn an inside man.. Peggy and Hurley mention! Crowd going wild!

Chad is bringing his armed goons to the table. (certainly gonna help Sophie turn Bronwyn against him) --- "Eivor is gonna have to kill you" Well... Guess thats one way to ensure that Bronwyn cant ever run her little scam again, get her to turn on Chad and force her into witness protection, it'd be hell for her the same way it was for the car-enthusiast in the original series. Worse then prison or a fine, (those would actually make her more popular. She'd just brand herself as "persecuted by the system" and a "controversial truth-teller", but if she's on the run from Chads Murdermen... Well, goodbye influencer status)

Oh sophie is pulling the "we're conmen and you're just our mark"-excuse. Which is technically true but as long as you make them think you're after something different then your actual goal, you continue to mislead them. Now Melanie is going to give us the data, Breanna is switching it out for the virus, and 40 mllion bitcoin goes down the drain.

--- Back at the Theatre the team has caught on to Sophie's Missing Person Status. Melanie calls Zazi. "Hank" is coming to help.

"that would've stung, huh" obligatory joke. (also we're about to pretend to lose the fight. the fight is a distraction while we switch the drive for the virus) Honestly, this might be the most humiliating way of taking down a goon yet (and im counting the Looney-Tunes Hole from the Sheherezade job in that. Beaten unconcious with a Qwynneth Paltrow Dildo while getting stung by bees is a humiliation you do not want in your armed-goon resume.) --- Ah we're not switching drives by feigning a loss. We're knocking Eivor out and just bringing a fake drive. Much simpler and it doesnt force Elliot to take an L for dramatic fake-out. Also yes, Harry is good at what he does.

that is a pen. That isnt even an EMP its a stopwatch app used as a distraction while the database whipes itself. --- Oh magnetic phone-covers to pretend them sliding in the car. Didnt know they made those. (but then, i dont use my phone that much, nor do I own or drive a car)

And the look on his face when he realises what he just did to himself.

And i guess im right, Bronwyn is going into Witness Protection which means she cant work as an influencer ever again. --- Back at the theatre Client and Melanie are working together to create a plan to actually help the people whose medical data Bronwyn took.

Parker once more becomes the most relateable character ever by outright admitting that for over a year, she didnt know Elliots name, only remembering it when other people used it.

"Janice" is in her own personal hell.

--- "you dont need my validation, but I will offer it" is such a dynamic. 10/10 line.

[submalevolentgrace]

sometimes a family can be a cat and a cute girl that was up all night in pain and didn't sleep until like 6am but then got woken up at 8am by an angry postie bashing the door in and then had a text from the gardener that he'd be over "this morning" and he's the only gardener that responded out of like 7 you contacted this fortnight so you have to stay awake even though the pain is building up and your head is starting to spin a little but the gardener is really important because the real estate agent messaged you about needing to get it done in that tone where they use the space between lines to reminnd you that they have the power to not renew your lease over the grass being too long because you live in a society that has somehow created a system where you have to pay money to physically exist anywhere because you are corporeal and your body takes up space and it literally has to be parked somewhere but someone went and invented the concept of "owning land" and because you can't just float off into space you have to position your body on land somewhere but it's all "owned" by someone you have to pay for it and even if you decide to park your body on "public land" that is ostensibly owned by "the government" or "the crown" that's also "illegal" because of vagrancy laws you're literally not even allowed to be homeless so if you put your body in a physical space that you're not paying money for then government funded gang members with a guns will come kidnap you and put you in a facility where you have no rights and the guards can just get away with raping you because there's no oversight and the lawyers can't prove anything and sure the real estate agent doesn't explicitly say or probably even think about "if you don't mow your lawn we'll make sure you get kidnapped off to get raped" but it's basically always hanging over your head anyway and you just have to act like its not and the lawn only got this long in the first place because you were supposed to have a regular gardener come monthly organised by your disability support coordinator but they havent been in a while even though the invoices keep getting paid and come to think of it she keeps submiting invoices for her own hours and hours of "support coordination" work even though she apparently cant even ind a gardener or even email you back in two months and the whole reason youre in a pain flare anyway is probably because you had to go out there and do a rush job on the lawn in between the climate collapse storms with a whippersnipper because its all youve got but it really took a toll because even though the ottobock griefer they gave you is supposed to be for heavy duty work and the advertising material features a guy doing landscaping the servos in it aren't actually strog enough to support half the weight of a corded electric whippersnipper without disengaging so you had to do the whole thing one handed because thats the number of hands you have left to work with after a decade of every doctor you talk to refusing to explore treatment options or even do some scans to work out whats causing the problem until its far too late and the damage is done and have you ever tried to use a whippersnipper one handed to cut meter tall wet grass while also trying to make sure it doesnt cut its own power cable off or worse your ankles because being a lower limb amp is way worse than upper so the lawn cut was terrible so you really need this gardener to come and finish the job for you because of the whole prison rape outcome of not giving someone already rich money in order to be allowed to park your body somewhere but now its 2pm and i swear to eris if this guy doesnt show up today i might actually fucking lose it but better not tell anyone how bad things actually are and how bad you really feel cos if they decide you are "a risk to yourself" they kidnap you to a special prison that they say is for mental health but they also drug you with sedatives because it makes their job easier and also easier for you to get raped so like i really fucking hope this gardener comes today

but also the cat steals your chair and snores little snores

that can be a family

[musashi]

non AA related gsjshs but

i think after the *clenches fists* lawyers have their time to shine i will be hitting the anime. and theres not like. A Time Limit On This. i have a CURRATED dash from Past fist clenches and NONE have dragged me back into their tide im literally here for as long as its making the serotonin do its job

but i know for a fact that everything i know and want from pokemon is in the anime the drama of a fight the synchronized battles the dynamics between trainers and pokemon that surpass knowing about special/physical split (which is so funny to me??? like of course she doesnt know about that? how she managed to go through nearly 2 entire regions without understanding is a mystery but VSUWJSSH THE FIRST TWO 2 THO.)

i NEED larrys jolteon to accidentally thunder wave people because hes so jumpy

franziska would not ordinarily have a grass type but eghejshs brain goes off duty at the idea of a grass type like bulbasaur or oddish or roselia even cause Vine Whip. synchronized whip noises.

aaaaand send ask

TELL ME HOW IT GOES WHEN YOU DO FGJHFHGF I LOVE POKEANI OBVIOUSLY. I PROBABLY DONT HAVE TO TELL YOU THAT FSGSFHFG the anime is so so so so good its everything to me. even the oldest seasons still hold up, i watch OS so much :'3 i've watched the whole pokeani up to journeys 5+ times now. thats 5000 episodes of pokemon.

jessie is stupid <3 she's a fucking idiot.

franziska has a salazzle that knows fire lash ^w^ but honestly respect on that idea she'd be great with a grass/poison type. i don't know if i could kin a whip lady with an oddish without it getting too close to some very specific wounds but also i'm very powerful so maybe. buuuuut my pokesona is salazzle and salazzle is the pokemon i waited YEARS for, so i gave her salazzle cause it special to me <3

[suiciderape]

𝔯𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔬! 𝔰𝔲𝔦𝔠𝔦𝔡𝔢 𝔯𝔞𝔭𝔢 𝔱𝔬𝔱𝔞𝔩 𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔰𝔥 𝔩𝔞𝔳𝔞 & 𝔨𝔫𝔦𝔳𝔢𝔰

ew! ur ghetto hahaha no ok so what is going on with content creators? were getting nowhere srsly we are! i cant even tell what my readers are doing bc i literally got locked out of my own content on tumblr by an evil viewer i got stuck on the first post at go home! potter! and then voldemort literally killed me yes!! i did the whole fucking awkward acting scene and my daddy yoon keeho insists it was a dream well since we are on neptune i am going to believe him but why would someone read my tumblr and lock me out?? its my content i need to make sure the ppl who actually want to read are ok! be careful guys! i still dont want to read my posts anymore and its part of my job as a manga writer ew! i hope they get arrested and the death eater i called finds them unwell

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖚𝖎𝖈𝖎𝖉𝖊 𝖇𝖔𝖞𝖘

ew! cigarettes are so fucking nasty these days yes still no word on lolita but voldemort is her murderer i cant even get high anymore bc no one is being cool and cigarettes make my body melt down to a rice paper i just want to party and write at the same time im in a new manga about my kpop idol daddys and it was a russian mafia secret we are sworn to secrecy to never repeat it ok so basically it was a miley cyrus movie hannah montanna extroidaniare it caused me so much physical pain that im surprised i havent killed myself sk sui shordy 9 style im gonna drown in a vault of my own despair this shit is nasty as hell i cant even get anyone to help me put decent furniture into the ghetto trapped room i inhabit i cant believe i got ghetto trapped and that the magees are now registered sex offenders hahaha ew she fucked up going chinese slave master 99k with me!! and i still have to talk to that fuck ass lawyer whatever at least this new manga is slowly progressing

𝖑𝖆𝖛𝖆 & 𝖐𝖓𝖎𝖛𝖊𝖘

ew! ur so fucking ghetto bitchs omfg end this joke already pls daddy awkward! hahaha she doesnt even like saying that were gonna end the joke chinese slave master 99k style but pls dont forget shes a special interest trained assasin in the russian mafia before u ask us how long she free style battled voldemort on the russian training grounds ew! it fucking hurts for all my bones to be broken oreos impressions baad girls in lovee! lol what the fuck was that asian man doing delivering mcdonalds? whaat the fuck bitch that is rudee! ew+ she said cutee too! no i didnt dude ok so he was mad at her for getting up and she was mad at him for making her get up so we forced ourselves to duel! wait whaat? ok so no duel took place? wait am i high? yes u are? pls explaind what indica meth is?? does it feel good baby girl? yes it does daddy mhm mhm mhm hmm lol ok? so good job faggots! of faggot rain rice paper candy hard candy alice rain nemmm hmm yes nem ok so ho hommmm what?

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖎𝖌𝖆𝖗𝖊𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖘𝖔𝖉𝖆 𝖌𝖆𝖓𝖌

plus im high as fuck! ew hahaha i missed u i missed u too bb :( its so boring and i cant find sissyboiqt aw! well its ok we like ur playlists thank u lol whose this one made by? sprawl wait isnt that sissyboiqts brother? i guess so lol aw [* ok well fuck off dude! what was the number? 3* ew ur ghetto grunge! grunge! grunge! ew hahaha thats better than 808s heartbreak? yas ew! hahaha omg ur so fucking sexy now show everyone what the suicide boys made u cool ok? s0 u miss austin tx finally? yea well they said they miss me for once omg ok well what if they dont? actually miss u? its cool ill live somewhere else? idk man its cool but i dont drink or have a car so i need help plus im schizoaffective omg u are ok so go home! potter end it end it end it hard candy alice rain hard candy alice rain hard candy alice rain

[prodigaisons]

p5 is a really good game with a really solid premise that came out at a very applicable time and most of the faults are in the fact that atlus hates lgbt people and the fact that they refused to go hard and have the characters choose to continue defying society after the pthieves were dissolved

[marvelling-at-marvel-blog]

This was a great episode of Lonestar.

Always happy to watch a Paul storyline, I have just never loved a job enough to put my life on the line for it so I can't understand how someone would rather die than not do that job. I don't think outside of people, I love anything enough to die for it. So Pauls decision seems crazy and kind of selfish to me. That doesn't mean he deserved to wake up the way he did though. I kind of like how after he asked Marjan to leave he still said thanks. Kind of like he knew he was being unfair to her in the moment. I dont think as someone who has no power of attorney or anything over Paul, Marjan would not have had any say in him getting the pacemaker?

- Owen's dry ass chicken sounds honeslty revoulting. 100% would not want to eat

- I love this bird. He is obviously a great judge of characther. He loves Mateo but dislikes Owen. Also him saying 'bitch and moan, bitch and moan' was the best most on point thing ever

- Part of me hopes Gwyn did leave him the bird to torment him, yhe idea of her being like this is how I will one up him forever just makes me giggle. Also I enjoy her lawyer. She's a boss.

- I love how much Judd is enjoying himself this episode. Raising his hand like a kid only to make fun of Owen. The joy on his face when he found out that Owen started the fight with the bird and when he heard the bird kissed Mateo. His just there living his best life.

- Said it before, will say it again. Gina Torres is so beauitful. She has an infectious smile and hair of my dreams

- Mateo is right, Axe throwing is fun as hell. Reccomend it. Also the fact that Owen doesnt ALREADY own a vegetable sprializer is more surprising than the fact he ordered one

- I would like it to be known that you should never strap your baby into a car the way that woman did. I actually dont think you even could if you wanted to that is obviously just sitting in the prop car

- I love Paul but the way he makes pasta is a freaking crime. What did that poor spaghetti do to you?

- The fact that Marjan could kick that door in is pretty hot

- They did not just kill the bird. Why was that neccesary!?!?! Noo Ginsberg! (Also kudos Gwyn, great name) He could have just gone to Mateo and they would live happily together for 30 years

- Finally. Where was Nancy? I can get why Carlos and Grace where not in the ep. It makes no sense that Nancy was not there with no explanation. I get that Tommy and T.K. where having a moment this ep but it just makes no sense that they where running a man down.

I can also understand that not every actor needs to be in every episode. But it always the same ones. I would love to see a episode that spends the whole time with Grace and Carlos and thier jobs/lives The only time the rest pop up is when they have screentime shared with those two. It could be a cop storyline that involves 911 phone calls and some personal stuff in the side. I think when people talk about how upset they are that Carlos or Grace is not in a episode it's because it happens reguarly with them and almost never with the others. I mean its OK to leave them out to focus on firefighter storylines but it jas to go both ways. Which is si t right now.

[anaaparis]

More bully hcs!!! This time theyre mostly related to families of the characters and stuff

• Gary's originally from New Jersey, his parents are divorced, he doesnt talk to his mom and his dad used to struggle with drug addiction but hes getting better. Still his relationship with his son is distant, even though they live together during holidays and such. Gary takes from his mother in terms of his terrible personality and in terms of looks hes a carbon copy of his father

• Pete's dad is a Polish immigrant who works as a librarian, hes a rather passive person a malewife and Pete takes from him in terms of personality. His mother is an artist, she loves painting and Pete got his looks and love for art from her

• Zoe lives only with her dad, who's on an older side and used to be a punk in the 70's; her mom left them and he raised Zoe on his own, theyre on great terms

• Derby lives with both parents who are on a brink of a divorce; his father is a terrible man who's barely home; his mom is a rather kind and timid person but she learned how to put on a facade it to fit in with the crowd, Derby inherited her looks and artistic talent (which he doesnt show a lot around fellow preps but he eventually opens up about it and damn he can paint)

• Bif lives with his dad only, his mom died when he was around 8; his dad is an attorney and is good at his job, but outside of his workplace hes not very smart and relatively boring to talk to; he looks very similar to Bif too, but is even taller

• Parker is Asian, his dad is Japanese-American and his mom is fully Japanese; they divorced when Parker was little but he has an okay relationship with them both, his mother moved back to Japan and he visits her during every break and holidays; he has two sisters, one 15 years older, one around 10 years younger his dad had with a new woman

• Tad has an older brother and sister, they all just pray till their dad kicks the bucket; his sister is very artistically talented and attends art school

• Justin lives with both his parents who possibly have the most healthy relationship from all the prep parents, even though theyre both deemed lowkey weird, bc his dad is very antisocial and his mom is openly critical of other people from their social circle; his dad was originally planned to marry a different girl, but on an annual trip to France he met a girl from a catholic school who absolutely hated it there and wanted out, who later became his wife. Theyre still very much in love with each other and Justin being a twat is his own choice

• Gord is originally Canadian, his parents have a terrible relationship with each other but pretend everything's fine (smth like Amanda and Michael from gta 5 idk); he has an older sister who moved out and is working to become a lawyer and hes planning to follow her steps or become a Broadway singer, he wants to move out one way or another

• Chad's parents have a relatively okay relationship too; he also has an older sister who works in the high fashion industry

• Dan and Thad are twins; they have two mothers and an older sister and their relationship at home is actually good, they just feel like they need to pretend to have that rivalry to keep up their status in their cliques; theyre all originally from Florida

• Kirby is originally from Florida as well, he has two older sisters who seem to be total opposites of each other, older ome is that typical "Straight-girl-autumn-lover" and the middle one is an alternative girl who works in a piercing shop; Kirby's childhood friends with Dan, since his dad and one of Dan's moms are high school friends and they introduced their kids to each other

• Ted's parents both went to Bullworth as well and had him very early (at like 15-16); they both managed to finish their education and they found work easily and now theyre at a stable point of life; he also has two younger sisters, around 3 and 1,5 year old; Ted's father is a complete opposite of him in terms of personality and interests (he used to be kinda alternative in high school and its still showing) but they still manage to have a good relationship

• Mandy has 4 older brothers, and she's been friends with Ted since like babyhood since her and Ted's parents were neighbours and they helped the younger ones a lot

• Damon is also childhood friends with Ted and Mandy, they met in preschool; his parents are rich and leave for business trips a lot so he often throws big parties

• Wade and Christy are twins, thats why Christy is on good terms with the bullies and they consider her a part of the clique, she always has the freshest gossip for them

• Johnny's dad died in an accident when he was a baby, he lives with his mom who works as a nurse and is a rather stressed but good person; he'd take a stab for his mom and will beat anyone who even thinks badly of her

• Vance has two older siblings (sister and brother) and three younger ones (twin sisters and a brother) and he loves them all so much, his siblings always come first for him

• Lola has an older brother who works in the big city but he occasionally comes back to Bullworth without any warning, she loves him a lot and the other greasers respect and some crush on him a whole lot

• Ricky has an older brother, he works in some garage and he used to have a mutual crush going on with Gord's sister in high school but neither of them could make the first move bc of shyness + pressure from their clique

[warwickroyals]

CHAPTER XVII: BLUE

Beginning | Previous | Next

Transcript under the cut - Click for HQ photos

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This post is called "Blue" because it's, well, blue in colour and in tone. Returning to the current day with another downer it seems.

PS - Sam (AKA Spawn One) is already showing shades of his chapter three self. Although I think he can be somewhat justified here albeit a little hurtful and condescending.

All likes, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated! Thank you for the support 💖

[VOICEMAIL] Your Royal Highness, I am baffled that things have gotten to this stage, but unfortunately you have failed to return my calls

[VOICEMAIL] We are poised to make critical decisions and if you do not return my calls before tomorrow morning, an agreement will be reached without you

[VOICEMAIL] Some advice, not as your lawyer, not even as your friend, but as a person with a conscience: I’m not going to beg you to be a decent father over the phone, that’s not my job

[VOICEMAIL] What my job does concern is your character and the growing list of people who have unflattering opinions about it. I don’t think you want to add your own children to that list. Call me back

[SAM, VIA TEXT] seriously dad??? seriously wtf is the matter with you??

[SAM, VIA TEXT] should have known YOU were the reason mom has been so upset lately

[SAM, VIA TEXT] i meant it when i said you need to give us space. mom doesnt want to see you. all of this stuff going on w you is hard for her

[SAM, VIA TEXT] you should be respecting that! you SHOULD NOT BE showing up here when shes alone and kissing her jesus fucking christ

[SAM, VIA TEXT] oh i see how it is. youre not going to respond because god forbid you have an honest convo w me for once in your sad life

[SAM, VIA TEXT] please grow up lmao

[SAM, VIA TEXT] call me once you crawl out from your oxy pile

[maschotch]

Masc, this is gonna be dumb but I grew up (and still have) a father who worked all the time and would not even come home some days and if he did it was 8 o clock at night and i'd beg to stay up with him. His job didnt make a lot of money at all. His job actually damaged his heath so bad he had to have surgery but he still does it.

All of this to say ..... Hotch's distance is so fucking normal to me. I genuinely dont see the huge deal with being gone except for the actual danger of serial killers but uhh other people are doing it too. I see Haley's frustration because I remember having like a school play that my dad never saw but I dunno. There are a lot of jobs that take you from your family and at leasr hotch has gov money with gov benefits.

ok so obvi i dont know your family situation and saying “people who cant be there full time for their kids shouldnt have children” is so unbelievably tone deaf akdjksfj and not what im trying to say, but i do think hotch is in…. a particular predicament

honestly i agree that hotch probably coulda been a good father ~s3-4 when they got divorced. the whole part-time parenting thing is expected in that kind of situation and suits his job a lot more. and there are single parents who have to work to make ends meet and can’t always be around (~hi this was my childhood situation while we’re getting into it and i admire my mom for everything she did).

the difference is that…. hotch doesnt have to do that. he was offered retirement. we’re not given the exact numbers, but it seems like they wouldve been financially stable with the pension + benefits they were willing to offer. he doesnt seem too ostentatious (other than the gucci ties apparently akdhksjd but i still think those are a gift from rossi) and he’s been at this job for years… he probably has some decent savings. essentially, hotch didnt need to go back to work. even if he did want to keep earning an income, it seems like he’s kept up w renewing his lawyer’s license. he couldve picked up a local practice and had a job with a reasonable, consistent schedule. but instead he returned to his high-risk job that kept him out of the house for days at a time

not to mention jack’s potential trauma?? even something like changing living situations is such a huge adjustment for a child, and stability is important for transitions like that. hotch of all people should know the significance of a safe home environment.

all in all… hotch is a good father <3 but he doesnt have the best priorities <3 and when the writers got tired of that being an issue they just kinda swept it under the rug

[richardsphere]

Leverage Redemption Log: The Card Game Job

Ok, time for the show to try and justify its use of playing-cards in the leader i guess? (still waiting for the timebomb) --- Ah, a beautiful establishing shot of a riverside, then a shot of a toppled tree. Nice to see a place get shown rather then hidden behind infinity-point font.

Kids dad is running out of money for their medication, its gotten to the point they need to sell their truck. (Fuck) kid dies within 1 minute of taking the medicine. --- Look I know this guy is scum, but lets not use the "he's pleading the fifth and listening to his lawyer and therefore must be evil" propaganda bullshit, allright? He's evil because he's holding sick childrens lives hostage, not because he's pleading the fifth.

hedge fund primarily made up of his own money? That sounds like a lie. --- Poor Lucy, Not only did she get fucking kidnapped, not only does she have to watch workplace harassment seminar videos but also IT looked into her browsing history? Poor Lucy.

Coffee and Beignets delivered (place your bets for poison?), button-cam in place.

Suck-up is gonna be the achiles heel. (Suck up is also the true mastermind behind the price-gauging) Breanna is placing office bugs.

Guy got second in a TCG once years ago and is still pissed about it. Initial prediction: Sell him a Black Lotus? --- Back from commercials, Breanna is loredumping. Apparently there is a rare and unique card in the castle somewhere. (no one knows what the finder gets outside the card. Im betting its Willy Wonka rules and the finder gets the company) --- They've taken the bait and now legitimately think the company might be for sale.

redirected his e-mail server. Honestly a lot more we could be doing with that. (you know what happens when a hedgefund CEO type doesnt have access to his own e-mail for a day? What can happen if you can send e-mails from his server in his name? I sure as heck dont know but am afraid of the answer)

Ok, either he is actually selling or we're getting counter-conned. (yeah, number 2 is definitly the real power here. We're scamming the wrong mark) --- and we're doing a national-treasure cluehunt. (its gonna suck, cause all the riddles are gonna be clueless riddles about a fictional cardgame we as an audience cant solve.)

Why the slo-mo on the walkout of the theatre? This scene does not ask for that. --- Sad Breanna is sad that Parker wont accept their help. (Parker is acting a bit OOC here, she knows better then to refuse a booklet of passwords)

Harry is here to unionise the securityguards.

Breanna has bought Parker time by attacking his pride and re-focussing him into "proving himself" by playing the actual game (he knows he cant lie about the riddles) Big Thug is off to find Sophie (dont worry, Elliot is with her)

Elliot is not happy that he's being volunteered for a Joust. (weird, i know he likes horses) --- Cordozar is wearing secret Clark Kent glasses to cheat. (When is team leverage gonna catch on that they're conning the wrong mark) --- And "Rage" has killed Elliot's dragon. Ah the classic "its all part of the show" fightscene. Love myself one of those.

Ok its the lake-pond. Nice little thing with harry signing to take the earbuds out for a private talk. --- "you have to be a killer" breanna says one thing he doesnt like and he imediatly calls for a time-out. Look for anyone who wasnt paying attention, obviously this all ends with Mr. Poet not selling his company because his passion has been re-ignited, and may even end with him getting his castle back. But I just want to note how charming it is to see Sophie con a man, not because she is after anything he owns but because she just needs him to be happy and distracted for a bit. --- What do you mean it took Breanna this long to realise she could hack his glasses/earbud thingy or his assistants cardgame-supercomputer... I guess she is new at this like Harry is so it sort of makes sense for her to miss that... --- Climatic "place to belong" community-speech is a bit on the nose and overdone but its a cliche that is overdone for a reason. (guess what, most cliche's are cliche because they work. saying something is cliche is a statement of fact not an insult)

"guess im not that good", nice line. 8.9/10 --- "lets just say the new owners are happy, and even happier to avoid a class action lawsuit". Game night at the theatre. --- Unfortunately this episode did not assist in justifying the sequel series bond-based trailer.