maybe a lee! minho and ler! chan (my fav pairing tbh😭) where chan is trying to find lee know’s spots like from least ticklish to most??
feel free to ignore this if it’s too complicated or u js don’t want to write it!!💖
> Doctors Appointment <
[Lee! Lee Know]
[Ler! Bangchan]
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“There’s just no way you’re touching me with that goofy outfit on” Lee Know greeted me kindly as I walked into the patient room.
“Hello Mr. Lee Minho,” I said as I looked down at my clipboard, “today I’ve c-“
“Oh stohop Hyung” Lee Know burst out laughing and threw his head back. He was sat on a patient seat, which was almost like a massage chair. Arms sitting comfortably on the arm rests, legs laid out in front of him, and his head (currently) thrown back as he laughs at my doctor’s outfit and clipboard.
“You know I have to do this for my resume! It clearly states I must give a patient some form of a checkup or look over to be considered more highly!” I said while whining. I wasn’t lying, he was the only person to trust me enough to do this. Slightly shocking, but not unexpected. I never explained what I’d be doing, only that I needed an hour, a soundproof room, and a patient to conduct a sensitivity experiment. Lee Know’s curiosity got the best of him, so he accepted my request. Now we’re here.. and he has no idea why.
“So” Lee Know said, finally stopping his laughter, “what are you even gonna do to me doctor” he chuckled, crossing his arms.
“You’ll see” I said. His face contorted a bit as he nervously smiled. I just promised him he wouldn’t get hurt and he gave me a look.
“I mean I’d hope I wouldn’t get hurt?! But what is it that you’ll actually be-”
I cut him off as I strapped one of his wrists to the armrest.
“Wha? Hyung, what are you-”
“Hand me your other arm Lino”
“No! Why!!” He yelled through nervous laughter, “if you’re not gonna hurt me there would be no reason for me to be moving a lot!”
“Wrong” I said, followed by a buzzer sound and a click of the second wrist strap into place. He immediately began struggling against them as he realized they were much stronger than he anticipated.
“Chan.”
“Mhm?” I said as I pushed a button to make the chair lay flat.
“Chan.”
“Yesss Lee Know?” He was laid flat now.
“Chan!”
“What?” I bent down to grab the two other straps for his ankles. After some struggling and complaining from him, I got them down.
“You’d think that since you offered to help me with this, you wouldn’t be such a pain in the ass to tie down!” I said.
“I didn’t know I’d be tied down asshole!” He said, struggling against the restrains.
“You didn’t ask”
“Fuck you” he whispered (lovingly).
“What was that?” I teased as I grabbed another buckle strap beside his hip to keep him from bucking too hard. He decided to be difficult and thrusted his hips in the air, not allowing me to buckle the strap. Naturally, I began to tickle his side until he dropped and I strapped him up.
“Hyuhung you’re scaring me! Why the restrains? Why so ominous!? Why- mmhmph!” His voice turned into mumbled gibberish as I shoved a little towel in there. I did it as a joke, but Lino being Lino decided to be stubborn and keep it in his mouth by biting on it every time I tried to take it out. Fine then.
I spidered my fingers up and down his torso as I watched his face contort into betrayed shock.
“Mmhmph! MhmhmhmMM!! MPHHMnm!!”
“Thought you wanted the towel in there?” I teased.
Lee Know threw his head back to the best of his ability as his stomach kept contracting to try and make the sensations stop. I eventually did as he regained his breathing.
“We’ll mark… a 7/10 for that spot” I said as I took the towel out his mouth and threw it away.
“You.. hah.. you WHAT?”
Lino’s eyes widened as he saw me holding a clipboard that showed several different body parts labeled on it. He also saw as I marked “7/10” on the “Lower Stomach” portion of the paper.
“Oh no, no no no no”
“You agreed to thiss~”
“Yohou’re joking right?” He said without being able to hide his nervous, or, excited smile? I couldn’t tell, maybe both.
“Nope. Cat is your safe word, scream it if you need me to stop, okay?” I said.
He laid there just staring at me as I hovered over his body.
“Ooookay, let’s actually get started now”
“NO! Nonohoho plehehehease!!” Lino begged as his hands turned to fists, “Why mEHE!” He giggle-screamed.
“Well.. it’s always you teasing and messing with the members, rarely the other way around. I just had to hear your tickle laugh, and you agreed to this on your own. Hah!” I laughed.
“You don’t even know if I’m t- if I’m gonna react to that like you want me to anyway” he said, red in the face.
“We’ll see.”
“Wait please please pleasepleasepleaseplease-“
“You have your safe word for a reason, you can just say it and we can stop for a bit” I said.
He paused.
“So I can just say it whenever? Whenever I want you to stop..?” Lino asked.
“Of course. Even before we start” I said. I wasn’t lying, he could say it now, but…
…
I waited.
Not one word out his mouth, only redness on his cheeks.
“…Okay” I smiled.
I walked over to his torso again and, with my tight blue doctors gloves on, began to poke and prod at his right ribcage as if I were examining it.
He began to angle his body away from my hand immediately as I got closer. Need to try out ghost tickle testing one day…
“I didn’t know there can be people born with with a different number of ribcage bones! Did you, Lee Know?” I asked.
“…hello?” I asked again. He seemed a little too busy to answer me as he had his head fully turned to his right, mouth clamped shut, and eyes held shut by sheer force.
“Okay so let’s see you have one-“
“K-kahamhmnm~”
“Stop snickering, this is science. One~” I wiggled my finger in the crevice up and down, “Two~” and again, “Thr~”
“NeahAHAHAHA” he suddenly screamed, shocking me.
“So is just the third one bad? Or all??”
“SHUHUT UP! PleheHEASE NO-“
I dug my knuckles into that third crevice and vibrated them as lightly yet teasingly as I could. Lee Know writhed on the examination table as if I was truly electrocuting him, except he wasn’t only screaming.
“AHAHAHAHAH!!” His laughter that followed his screaming never failed to make me coo at him. He never openly laughed this much, it was almost refreshing to hear, not to mention his crazy desperation to get out of the restraints (even though he knows he has a safe word…).
“You’re acting like I’m actually hurting you!!” I said.
“YAHAH YOHOU MIGHT AS WEHELL BE- AHA!!!!” I latched both hands onto one of his ribcages and squeezed up and down, causing him to angle his body completely to the opposite side. His quick realization that he literally cannot go anywhere without my help made his face contort into something like nervous childish excitement.
I decided to move on after marking ribcages a whopping 9. I couldn’t tire him out too much in one sitting, but I did have to get at least one more body part down.
“Okay.. I’ll let you pick” I said to him.
“Yhaha..” he was still out of breath. Seeing as he has his eyes shut and his chest heaving hard, yet still holds a smile… I think he’s fine.
“Awwwwweeee you’re soooo not the second oldest when you laugh”
“Whahat’s that supposed to mean!! I’m literally beheing held against my wihihihill!!!” Lino complained.
I just rolled my eyes. “You have two options. One, neck. Two, underar-“
“NECK. NECK PLEHEASE” he yelled at me in desperation. While he may keep his guard up often, it’s well known he’s way too ticklish under his arms for him to survive more than 10 seconds there.
“Hmm I guess since you want me to sooo badly” I teased as I began to walk around the chair/table he laid down on.
“This is so stupid this is soho so stupid I’m such an idiot why why why” Lino whispered (dramatically) as he shut his eyes and mouth tightly.
“Oh you’re gonna be fine calm down” I said as I got out some of those fluffy pipe cleaners from a nearby cabinet, but not before putting a blindfold over his eyes.
“Is this necessary” Lino complained.
“It says that if the patient does not see the stimulator coming, then it’ll make it more sensitive! I guess we’ll see how you react” I said.
He clamped his mouth again as it gradually grew into a smile.
I took one pipe cleaner in each hand and began to slowly trail it along the sides of his neck. He scrunched up a lot very fast, but wasn’t making any audible noise yet.
“Lots of movement… little sound… okay, how about this?”
I began to poke and graze the inside and outside of his ears with them.
“Eeaaahah!” Lino squealed high and long as I did this. His legs also began to do little kicks at the end of the chair.
“Awwww!!” It was one of the cutest things I’ve seen.
“Stohop! Eeeaahaheha!!” He couldn’t help but scrunch up even more as I began to trail my fingers too. He never got to a point of physical desperation or harsh bucking, but he did move his head violently at times because the sensations were so light. Luckily I had given him soft restraints and a comfortable chair to do this on, or else his neck would be done for.
“Ple.. plehehease.!!!” Lino begged as I tickled his nape and the spot where his neck and shoulder meet, “noahaheheAHAHA!!” The volume of his laughter raised an octave as I got faster and faster, eventually dropping to silent once the light teasing had been too much.
“Okay okay I’m done for now.”
“Geahah..~”
I began to put my things away as Lee Know stayed restrained on the chair/table, not seeming to care too much that he couldn’t move now. He stared at the ceiling with a big smile on his blushing face.
“You didn’t even use your safeword, idiot” I said (lovingly of course), “did you even remember it?!”
He smiled at me.
“Cat”
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Sorry this ask turned into an essay — as I explain I have a personal connection to this topic and a lot of thoughts on it, ha
On the topic of Taylor’s discussion of Joe’s depression — I have never seen anyone claim that she has made fun of it, but I have seen some discussions from people who feel that she’s been unfair or insensitive with how she’s spoken about it, or that she broke up with him because he was “too depressed” and that she was blaming him for things he can’t control. Renegade has been used as an example of this, and more recently So Long London (specifically “you sacrificed us to the gods of your bluest days).
I don’t want to speak for anyone but myself here or invalidate anyone’s feelings of hurt with how Taylor addresses these topics (because that is entirely fair to be hurt by if you interpret it in that way), but I will say this: as someone who has been on both sides of this equation (I have clinical depression that I’m in the process of getting medication for, and I’ve also had multiple relationships with people who were going through severe mental health struggles that I was trying to support them through), I don’t think that the way Taylor has referenced Joe’s depression affecting her in her music seems cruel to him. I’ve never gotten the impression that she is blaming him for struggling or that she expected him to just stop struggling and get better, or even that that’s the reason their relationship ended. I think there’s a lot of frustration in those songs, and while I understand why some may balk at that, it can be really frustrating at times to love someone who doesn’t love themselves, or who is pushing you away at every turn. It’s not their fault, and I don’t think Taylor is framing it as such, but that can make it even more frustrating when it feels like things are breaking down and there is nothing you can do to fix it.
And I feel like it’s kind of taboo to talk about those feelings because (in my experience at least) they’re wrapped up in so much guilt? I was in a relationship very similar to the one described in Renegade once, and I would get into this cycle where my partner would be struggling, I would try to help them, they would push me away and/or say things that would really hurt me, I would feel upset and hurt, but then feel so guilty for being upset and hurt because I knew they didn’t mean it the way it felt and that this wasn’t about me, so I would just keep those feelings to myself and say nothing, and it would start all over again. These aren’t pretty emotions at all, and I fully understand why some people are hurt by the way Taylor talks about them, but I think there’s a big difference between “I’m frustrated because my partner is struggling and I feel like I’m giving them everything I have but nothing ever changes and it’s hurting me” and “my partner is too depressed to deal with, why won’t they just get over it?”
I’ve had loved ones tell me tell me to just stop being depressed before — I know that hurt very well, and at least to me, this feels different. Honestly I really appreciate songs like Renegade and So Long London because hearing someone else talk about that experience has made me feel less like I was some uniquely horrible person incapable of being the perfect supporting partner that I should have been. I think it’s just a shitty, frustrating situation where no one is solely to blame, and I think that’s how Taylor presents it.
But again, this is just my opinion — I can totally see how and why people might interpret them differently and feel hurt by them, and I don’t want to speak over those feelings at all
Hi friend! First of all tysm for being so open and honest about your personal struggles with both yourself and past relationships - I'm grateful you feel you can be safe here talking about that. And secondly in your grace and empathy in understanding the many potential sticky layers of feeling here and how this might be ruffly and uncomfortable for people. I love that so much.
My interpretation has always very much been in alignment with yours. And I think if this album was seeking to do any one thing it was to wield honesty like a blunt force instrument - even and especially when the truth is uncomfortable and can be alienating. I've never once interpreted her documentation of a partner's mental health struggles as "get over it" (is there anyone who better understands how fucking hard it is to get over literally anything than Taylor?). But I feel the line that haunts me most is, "I gave you all my best me's / My endless empathy / And all I did was bleed as I tried to be the bravest soldier". And the uncomfortable truth is that it is so incredibly painful to be in love with someone who doesn't love themselves and who has proven (despite years of begging and pleading and patience and kindness) that they are not interested in becoming someone who can love you better. And it's unfair and shitty and horrible to have your "spine split from carrying [both of you] up the hill" for years. You feel sad for them. You feel sad for you. You feel sad that you feel sad. And then you feel mad that they are making you sad. And and and.
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It's me. I'm the cis, heterosexual, aromantic man. I will never marry, I will never be married, I will grow into middle age and elder age and I will die unmarried. I will be forced to support a household of myself on only my wages alone for the rest of my life. I will be asked about women and marriage and children by my family for the rest of my life (or men, the progressive ones might say). I may not ever come out to them. I feel like I burned my coming out on something stupid. I don't want to explain it. I don't want to run them through the definitions and intricacies. I don't want the acceptance without understanding, placating me with ceased questions and poor explanations to other, drunk adults.
I like my hair to be long, I spent a year with it dyed a golden blonde with dark roots because I like the trashy party girl aesthetic. I want to dye it again with pink tips. I like painting my nails, black and blue are my favorite colors. I like wearing chokers. I also like wearing baggy jeans and ratty hoodies. I like having stubble. I like having chest hair. I like having a square jaw and broad shoulders. I wish I had a flatter stomach and a thinner profile frame. I don't know what this makes me, perhaps this is something no more GNC than Machine Gun Kelly. I think about this a lot, how queer my appearance truly is. I should think about it less. I have thought long and hard about if I could be trans or if I could be non-binary or if I could be genderqueer and the conclusion I ultimately came to is that I most enjoy being a man open to whatever self-expression I want.
I don't date, but I've thought about it. I would like to meet people, and I would like to have sex with them. But I don't want to hurt them. I fear if I explain what I am beforehand it'll scare them away. I fear if I explain after they'll feel manipulated or abused. I don't know how many people in the dating scene want what I want. I fear my own lack of experience will make me a bad lay, an embarrassing story to tell to confidants in hindsight. I fear my own virginity, a boundary to those I wish to be like. All of these fears are baseless, as I've not been able to even begin a single relationship in my life. Despite this I still heavily identify with terms like "slut" and "manwhore" and "thot" because my interests lay so deeply within casual sex, sex without great intimacy or emotion. This may be some form of stolen valor. I hope the true sluts are not too mad at me.
I made this blog several years ago because a mutual of mine reblogged memes making fun of aro and ace people, making fun of the concept of aphobia, and in addition well known aphobes. I didn't feel comfortable talking about aro stuff on my main blog, for as little as I talk about it. Living through the ace discourse of the 2016 era has largely caused me to cringe in embarrassment any time I am forced to discuss my orientation with people who aren't aro or ace themselves. I no longer follow this person. I unfollowed many people I was mutuals with from that time, most of them because they posted too often about how much they hated men and I didn't want to see that, some because our interests simply drifted too far apart, only one for explicit aphobia reasons. (Also one because they became a "both sides are bad, any vote is wasted" libertarian, but that's unrelated.)
I guess at this point I don't care deeply about what strangers on the internet think of me. If a trusted friend told me that they don't think I'm truly queer that may hurt. But I am going to continue to use the word for myself. I take up no resources. I go to events that are open to me. If an event was not open to me, I think I'd not want to go anyways. I am not a hypothetical, I am not a strawman, I am a person with lived experiences both within and exterior to the queer community. If you hate me, I will permit you to continue to do so. But ultimately, I am who I am, I cannot change these facts, and I would not choose to do so even if I could.
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