#there is an understanding of the wholeness of love and the goodness of things and the joy of things

[spencerreidenjoyer]

we've already done it in my head | spencer reid x reader

You have fantasies about Spencer, and you feel bad about it when you have to see him at work. Thing is, he has fantasies about you too.

wc: 4.8k, rating: explicit

tags/warnings: professor!spencer, post prison!spencer, bau!reader, fem!reader, sexual fantasies, masturbation, daddy kink, getting together, hookups, friends with benefits (?), mentions of public sex/exhibitionism (they don't actually do it), fucking with feelings but neither of them really realise it yet lol...

a/n: i am insane and that's all i'll say about this fic. jk i started this at the top of the month and i'm glad i've finally finished it. this was such a crazy one to work on, aside from being swamped with school work. thank you to my lovely friend from twitter vic who kept encouraging me to work on this hehe. inspired heavily by taylor swift's guilty as sin? (obviously) and chappell roan's picture you just for those horny yearning vibes yknow? please enjoy this insanity!!! (crossposted to ao3)

Spencer rushes in from the university when Emily calls. It’s a serious case, one that Emily decides Spencer needs to be pulled away from his teaching for. She doesn’t feel good doing it – the whole team knows how important teaching is to Spencer, but he understands all the same when he comes into the round table room. Spencer sits down at the last empty seat next to you, his hair a mess as he sets down his things and flips open the case file. He turns to smile at you, before Penelope starts the case brief.

It’s a long, tiring day of work after landing in California, the BAU having been called in to investigate the murders of young moms in the area, and you need a glass of wine and a nice hot bath to even fathom everything you’ve seen today.

You should just turn in for the night, the Bureau being particularly kind with their budget as you all get individual rooms. Your drowsiness should put you fast to sleep, but your mind is racing with thoughts of Spencer.

Spencer’s been in his nice suit all day, filling out his shirt nicely. You’ve noticed his stubble growing in, and his hair is messy and gorgeous. You can’t help yourself for feeling this way, as guilty as you feel about it. You’ve been harbouring your crush on Spencer for way too long, in the couple of years since you joined the BAU. Spencer is a sight for sore eyes for sure, but his kind gentleness despite the horrors of what you all do for work is a welcome reprieve. 

While his sweet nature was what had you falling for him in the first place, Spencer could be extremely sexy, even if he didn’t know it. 

Today was especially tough for you. You and Spencer were sent in to interrogate a particularly uncooperative suspect, playing into the good cop-bad cop dynamic. Your coaxing wasn’t doing anything, and Spencer had ended up raising his voice in an attempt to intimidate them. He’d slammed his hand on the table, a loud clang against the metal, and his large figure only served to crowd the suspect in to scare them further.

You only got to know Spencer after the mess that was him getting wrongly sent to prison, but Spencer supposedly wasn’t like this before prison. Still, you found Spencer’s quiet intimidation incredibly attractive, and you had to keep your composure in the interrogation room earlier.

And your mind drifts to Spencer from earlier, his rough callousness with the suspect, his glare wild and intimidatingly sexy, you end up thinking about him.

About Spencer, who is so kind and sweet with you and the rest of the team, seeming like he couldn’t hurt a fly. 

About Spencer who could also be domineering and intimidating. He seems like he’d only pull it out if you asked, but the duality has you hot under the collar. 

Your eyes slip shut, mind swirling with thoughts of Spencer, about having him all to yourself, about him wanting you. 

About his large hands on you, making you feel so small under his firm grasp. 

About him pinning you down on the hard, cool metal of the table in the interrogation room. 

About him caging you in with his arms, the look in his eyes almost crazed and full of lust for you. 

“Spencer,” you gasp, before Spencer kisses you fervently. His stubble is rough against your skin, but you don’t care. Spencer kisses you like he’s a starved man and you’re his next meal, with such desperation that you feel weak in the knees.

“You’re gorgeous,” Spencer says. He kisses your jaw, down your neck, and his large hands are all over your body. You feel so secure in his grasp, he feels you up and drinks his fill of you. He gropes your tits, your thighs, your ass, manhandling you into spreading your legs, so he can press the hardness of his cock to your cunt. “Look what you do to me.”

You whimper, fully indulging in this wet dream as you slide a hand into your underwear. “Spencer,” you gasp.

“You’re so hot, you make me feel crazy,” Spencer hums, rolling his hips against you. You’re separated between layers of fabric, but Spencer humping you like this turns you on to no end. 

You rub at your clit in tight little circles, your wetness aiding the slide as you get yourself off to the thought of Spencer.

“Spence,” you moan, frustrated. While Spencer’s hardness grinding against you is literally a dream, you want to imagine his cock buried inside of you. You’re perfectly capable of moving this along, so you do. 

Magically, Spencer’s clothes are off and so are yours, the perks of a fantasy being that you don’t have to awkwardly stumble through taking your clothes off. You have a hazy picture of what he’d look like naked in front of you. You imagine toned muscle, a slight pudge to his tummy from his time in prison, his pecs filled out nicely. You imagine his cock would be pretty, as pretty as he is, veiny and thick and all sorts of perfect. 

“You’re too fucking good to me, baby,” Spencer groans, the blunt head of his cock pressed up against you now. He rubs off against you, sliding over your clit, your folds, over the wetness leaking from your whole. “Gonna fuck you so good, just like you deserve.”

Without hesitation, Spencer’s cock slips into you, the perfect thickness to make you feel full as he slides in inch by inch. 

You slip your fingers into yourself, aided by how impossibly wet you are just at the thought of Spencer, and your groan weakly. Two fingers aren’t enough, not when you bet Spencer could fill you up, like he’d split you in half on his cock. 

He pushes into you until he’s pressed flush against you, buried inside of you to the hilt. He starts to pound into you, like he’s uncaring of what you need, but the way he treats you turns you on impossibly.

Your fingers aren’t enough to satiate you, but you thrust them in and out of you in an effort to mimic how Spencer fucking you might feel. You moan, a little louder than you’d like.

“Spence–” you gasp, in your fantasy. It should be scandalous, Spencer taking you over the table in the interrogation room. You don’t know if the thought of people being behind the one-way mirror turns you on or not – being watched, letting Spencer take you in front of everybody. You like the thought of Spencer being so obsessed with you, so desperate, needing to fuck you right where you work.

The metal table is cool and harsh against your hips, but you don’t care if it hurts as Spencer fucks you relentlessly, quickly taking on a brutal pace. It’s exactly what you need, what you want Spencer to do with you, being rough and frantic enough to make you scream his name.

You whimper his name under your breath, bashful even while in your fantasy. 

Spencer has you pinned down, but it’s not like you intend to get away. You want to savour this even if it’s only in your mind, shameful as you’re getting off to the thought of your coworker. You just need this out of your system, need Spencer out of your system, and then tomorrow you can face him like a normal, well-adjusted person. 

“Fuck,” you gasp, palm grinding against your clit, fingers pressed inside of yourself. You’re shaking, with the thought of Spencer fucking you until you can’t take it anymore, the ideal of him in your mind too perfect, until you’re moaning into your hand as you orgasm. You sob, clenching tight around your fingers, feeling your slick gush out as you ride your high.

You don’t mean to fall asleep, but after both a long day and a crazy good orgasm, you end up passing out with a tissue clenched in your hand, with your panties and sleep shorts kicked off to the foot of the bed.

---

Spencer can’t stop thinking about you.

He shouldn’t, not when you’re his coworker and also one of the people he’s friendliest with in the unit. 

Spencer would say he couldn’t bring himself to trust many, especially after coming out of prison, but you were the one he warmed up to the easiest. A new face in the BAU wasn’t uncommon, but Spencer had found himself drawn to you. You were kind and warm to him fresh out of prison, your tenderness a welcome reprieve as he’d gotten accustomed to being back at the BAU. With your intellect and quick wit, matched with your beauty, Spencer could not help but be attracted to you – but that’s besides the point. 

Spencer knows how much your friendship with him means to you, and he’s certain that that’s all you see him as: a friend. 

Yet, he can’t stop himself from thinking about you in those pants. Those pants that hug your curves just right. Those pants that make your ass look great – not that he was looking – especially when you’re leaning over an interrogation table, trying to play the good cop with the suspect from earlier.

Spencer had hung back, trying to get a read on the suspect while you spoke to him. Him getting to ogle your figure and stare at how good you looked in those pants was unintentional, but he definitely wasn’t complaining. 

Spencer only felt a bit bad wrapping his hand around himself in the shower, mind flooded with thoughts of you. Water, almost scorching, running down his body, his hand moves fast and reckless, exhaling harshly as he gets himself off. 

He can’t get you out of his mind, your gorgeous figure, your pretty face, your wide eyes and thick thighs and soft lips – he shouldn’t be thinking of you like this. You were a coworker, a friend, for God’s sake, and yet he can’t stop imagining you under him. 

He can’t stop imagining pressing you against the table in the interrogation room – your lithe frame underneath him, making you look so small, making him feel so big. 

He presses his growing problem to your perfect ass, watching you writhe underneath him. You keep looking back up at him, with your wide, wet eyes and your flushed cheeks, looking like you need him to give you exactly what you need.

“Please, daddy,” you whine, and Spencer is groaning and undoing his belt before your pants get pushed down too. Stroking his cock quickly, Spencer easily finds his way to your entrance, wet and dripping with your slick. He pushes into you, pressing kisses to your neck as you groan with the intrusion. 

“Daddy,” you whimper, “Feels so good.”

“Yeah?” Spencer coos at you. Spencer feels you press yourself back up against him, pushing his cock deeper, and he loses all sense of control as he starts to fuck you hard. He feels like a madman, unable to hold himself back as he takes and takes and takes, fucking into your tight wetness, his head spinning with how good you feel around him. 

You’re whining and moaning under him, your noises music to Spencer’s ears as they echo off the walls. Your cunt is wet and sloppy as Spencer fucks you, wanting to give you everything you need and more.

“Fuck, baby,” Spencer groans, his hand tightly fisted around his cock. The way the tip of his cock leaks is easing the slide, as he pictures in crystal-clear detail how your cunt would draw him in, slick and messy be fucks into your perfect, tight cunt. “You’re too good to me.”

“Daddy,” you sob, your hands clawing down Spencer’s back. Spencer gropes you greedily through your clothes, grabs your tits and feels his fill of your waist, your perfect ass, your thighs as he rocks himself back and forth between them. 

“Gonna cum inside of you, love,” Spencer grunts, his pace unrelenting. His hands are on your thighs, gripping you tight, both fucking into you and dragging you onto his cock over and over. “You’re gorgeous. Gonna make a mess of you.”

You’re whining underneath him, making him feel too good, as you clench around him tight and moan even louder. Spencer can’t help himself, thrusting into you hard and fast and eager until he’s cumming.

He spills into his hand, the thick white ropes of his cum washed down the drain with the spray of the shower from above him. Visions of you flash through his mind, your gorgeous frame, your pretty face, your mouth on his. 

He’s barely towelled off before he’s knocked out in his bed, too tired to even process feeling guilty about jerking off to you. 

---

Sure, perhaps it’s childish to try and avoid Spencer all day, especially when you have an active case all of you need to be working on. You must be a fool to think that getting yourself off to Spencer would help, because all you can think about is your fantasies of him last night, how you imagined him bending you over and taking you– Not helping, you remind yourself.

Emily must secretly be on your side or be able to read your mind or something, because Spencer is relegated to work on geographic profiles and speed-read through case files back at the police precinct, while you get sent out onto the field to chase down your killer. 

But you can’t avoid Spencer forever, and you aren’t any good at it either. You feel like Spencer’s eyes are on you the whole day when you and him are in the same room, but you never look up at him to find out. While you could chalk up your nerves to a serial killer still being out on the streets, you don’t have any more excuses at the end of the day when you’ve finally caught him, and the team decides to get dinner to celebrate.

You purposely wedge yourself between JJ and Emily when you sit down at the table, trying to avoid Spencer, and you think you’re successful with getting away with seeming a little out-of-it when you end up slipping away early, claiming you had a rough sleep last night.

You’ve barely settled down in your hotel room for the night, finally feeling like you can relax, when there’s a knock at your door. You have no clue who it could be, but you open the door, and–

There Spencer is. 

“Hi,” you say curtly, feeling embarrassment wash over you all of a sudden, because all you can think about is getting off to the thought of him last night. You feel your cheeks warm, but you hope it’s not obvious that you’re blushing. Then, in an attempt to seem somewhat normal and well-adjusted, you add, “What’s up?”

“I should be asking you that,” Spencer says, his eyebrows furrowed slightly. “What’s up with you today?”

You press your lips together in a thin line before you say, “Nothing’s up. I’m fine.”

“Come on,” Spencer prods, his head cocking to the side as he deadpans. “You know I can read you like an open book. Something’s up.”

You frown, Spencer stoking the flames of brattiness in you. “Yeah? Tell me what’s the matter, if you can read me so well.”

Spencer’s eyes widen slightly. You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows.

“I- I thought we said no inter-group profiling,” Spencer says, his voice a little weak, and for the first time, you see Spencer look a little helpless. It’s kind of hot. 

Do you make him… nervous?

“Yeah, but if you insist on thinking something’s up with me…” You shrug, smiling. Spencer just blinks at you.

No. You couldn’t possibly entertain the thought. 

Spencer clears his throat. You watch him fidget with his hands just slightly, before he puts them by his sides to seem confident. “Well, you’ve been avoiding me, on purpose or not – both attest to your desire to avoid me somewhat. You could barely look me in the eye all day, which means you might be embarrassed or guilty of something, likely having to do with me.” Spencer says, his voice even, but he isn’t looking at you. 

You raise your eyebrows. His explanation is both specific and vague, and you feel slightly called out and safe from his scrutiny at the same time. But, you can’t shake off the feeling that there’s something more to Spencer’s words, the way he’s looking at you like he hopes you can’t pick his brain apart. 

So, you turn it back onto him, “Then, what do you think is the problem? You aren’t looking at me either, and you were fidgeting with your hands. Is something up with you, then? It almost sounds like you’re projecting, Dr. Reid.”

Spencer freezes, like he’s a deer caught in headlights. You can practically see his brain running a mile a minute, overthinking every possible outcome, overly self-aware of himself, his actions, his thoughts.

You try to stop yourself from smiling, because Spencer is kind of cute like this. “You wanna tell me what it is then, Reid?” 

“When did this become about me?” Spencer squeaks, his usually cool facade quickly disappearing. There’s a look in Spencer’s eyes, as he nervously looks you up and down, and oh– “I just– Well, I– You–”

“I’m thinking we might be on the same page, here,” you say, smirking. “Wanna tell me what it is?”

Spencer furrows his brows, his mouth agape as he looks up at you, but you’re putting your hand on his chest and trailing it down slowly. “Oh–”

“Tell me, Dr. Reid,” you cock your head, eyeing him up and down lazily. When you look at Spencer’s face, he’s shocked, enamoured and turned-on all in one. 

“You’re… attracted to me,” Spencer says, somewhat uncertain. “The same way I’m attracted to you.”

“And what makes you say that?” You hum. 

“I thought I heard you last night. Through the walls,” He says timidly, nothing you’ve seen from him before. “Thought I should’ve gone over to help, but I realised you were, um– You were pleasuring yourself. To- To me.”

“The walls are thin, huh?” You laugh, a little sheepish, but you note how Spencer’s becoming shy at the thought. “Did you…?”

His eyes grow wide. “Did I do what?”

You smirk. “That tells me everything I need to know, Reid,” you say, laughing.

“Well, you shouldn’t presume–”

“Shut up and kiss me, Reid,” you huff. You pull Spencer closer to you by his tie and you press your lips to his. 

It’s too perfect, when Spencer’s mouth is finally on yours. His hands cupping your face, Spencer kisses you hard and eager, like he can’t believe that he finally gets to have you. He kisses you like he’s starving, desperate for you as his next meal. You moan as his hands reach for your hips, pulling you in closer to him, greedy as he feels you up.

“Did you fantasise about this too? About me, like this?”

“This is better than I could’ve ever imagined,” Spencer says breathily. “You… You’re so attractive.”

“Could say the same about you,” you laugh, reaching to unbutton his shirt. His tie is already loose, hanging around his neck, but you want to see more. You undo the top few buttons, revealing more of his chest. You trail your finger over the exposed skin, letting your nail graze it slightly. You hear Spencer inhale sharply, and grin to yourself, proud of the effect you have on him. “So, do you want to just stand around and talk, or do you want to fuck me?”

Spencer’s eyes widen, and you chuckle. As if he hadn’t expected this was how it was going to go. Spencer purses his lips. “I mean, absolutely. I want to fuck you. But, um– We should definitely talk about this though.”

“Later,” you say, waving him off, before you lean in to kiss him again. Spencer grabs your waist again, like he needs to have you close. He lifts you slightly, making you squeak, but the both of you stumble over to the bed, unable to keep your hands off of each other, unable to keep your mouths off each other. You sit down on the bed, Spencer crowding you in with one of his knees on the mattress.

You loosen his tie and take it off, while Spencer moves to unbutton your shirt. HIs hands move deftly, eager to undress you, and he pulls away to marvel at the curve of your breasts in your bra when he pushes the satin shirt off of you. “Wow.”

“Wow yourself,” you say. You appreciate the view: a dishevelled, eager Spencer Reid in your bed, his hands all over you, his shirt half-undone, revealing tanned skin and a gorgeous body. “Need you to fuck me right now.”

Spencer laughs, perhaps a little incredulously, and he instead moves to take his shirt off instead. “I’ll- I’ll do that.”

“Good,” you say, distracted as you admire Spencer’s frame, the lines of his body, the softness of his stomach. He’s so hot you might die. “Very good.”

“I’m glad you like the view,” Spencer says, a little timid, like he’s shy to show off in front of you. He meets your gaze when you look up at him, caught in the middle of ogling him with no shame. 

You smile up at him sheepishly. “Please fuck me, Spencer.”

“Okay,” Spencer smiles, warm and gentle. He helps you slide your pants and underwear off your legs before you spread them. Spencer’s jaw drops, his eyes focused on the slick mess of your cunt. “Oh, my God.”

“Yeah?” you laugh, thoroughly amused with his reaction. “Show me how much you want me, too.”

Spencer’s hands are quick to push down his bottoms, dress slacks and boxer-briefs on your floor in an instant, wrapping a fist around himself as he works himself up for you. You can’t tear your eyes off of him – “Spencer, you’re… big.”

“Am I?” Spencer asks, and you’d lose your mind if you weren’t expecting Spencer to fuck your brains out. 

“You are,” you say calmly, because if you let yourself sound any more excited he might think you were insane. “But I can take you.”

Spencer grins. “Good.”

His fingers press against your cunt after you tell him to do so. His slender digits pick up all the slick that’s leaking from your hole, spreading it around messily as he toys with your clit. You shudder with the sensation, throwing your head back against the pillows. Then, one of his fingers slips into you, and he coaxes you open with a care you haven’t felt from most partners before. “How’s that?”

“So nice,” you groan, getting used to the feeling. He fucks you on his fingers, slow and careful, intent on stretching you out until you’re comfortable. You whimper and whine, feeling embarrassed at how vocal you’re being, but Spencer is kissing your breasts without a care in the world, and then you’re thinking about letting him know that you do feel good. Your next gasp is less ashamed, as Spencer coaxes a second finger in.

You’re panting as Spencer fucks you on his fingers, the repeated motion only working you up even more. The squelch from his fingers fucking you is obscene, and his eyes are wide as he looks at you. “You’re perfect,” he whispers. 

“Fuck me, Spence,” you say. 

Spencer bites his lip as he sits up and settles between your legs. He’s tugging at his cock as he lines himself up with your entrance. He slides his length along your folds, wet with your slick, and you groan at the friction. You grunt, wanting more, “Come on, Spence.” 

His hand on your leg, Spencer leans forward so he can press into you, and Spencer is practically folding you in half so he can fuck you. You moan at his thickness deep inside of you, filling you up, and the stretch is so undeniably amazing. Spencer’s length drags against your walls, such a delicious sensation deep in your bones, and you sob a little.

“Does that feel good?” Spencer asks softly, his voice tender. 

“So good, Spence,” you gasp. Spencer kisses your cheek, down your neck, and waits patiently for you to give him the go-ahead.

You feel his cock twitching inside of your heat, both your fantasies unable to live up to the real thing. Confident, cocky Spencer in your dreams is just that – a dream. The Spencer right in front of you is perfect, more perfect than what you’ve dreamed: shy but so attentive and sweet. He takes such good care of you. It makes you lose your mind a little bit.

“Fuck me,” you insist, and Spencer puts his hands on your hips as he starts to move. He fucks you deep, just the way you need him, and you cry out as he digs into your soft flesh, holding you tight so he can fuck you hard. The way Spencer pounds into you has your whole body trembling, pleasure coursing through you like electricity, till your mouth has fallen open and your toes are curling. 

“You’re so much better than I imagined,” Spencer groans, eyes squeezed shut as he puts all his energy into railing you. “Can’t believe this is real.”

You clench around him just to hear him moan, and you’re proud of yourself when his hips stutter and a groan rips through his throat in his pleasure. He glares at you. You grin, as Spencer keeps fucking you.

“What- Oh, fuck– What did you imagine? With me?” You gasp, as Spencer rolls his hips in a particularly deep thrust.

Spencer squeezes his eyes shut, before looking down at you, like he’s really contemplating if he should say this. “I– I pictured bending you over the interrogation table. Fucking you, making you scream my name, taking you right there, I–”

You moan as Spencer hits that perfect spot inside of you, your legs trembling as you gasp, “I– Why did we have the same fucking fantasy? Fuck–”

“What? You thought of me that way too?” Spencer sounds incredulous, like he can’t imagine you thinking of him that way– As if he isn’t drilling you into the hotel bed right now.

“Fuck, Spencer– Oh, my God– Yeah, I– You had me pinned down on the table, and you were fucking me in the interrogation room, in front of all of them–”

“God, you’re perfect,” Spencer grunts, burying his head in your shoulder as he uses the leverage to fuck you deeper, harder, faster. You can’t stop moaning Spencer’s name, simply too overwhelmed with the pleasure he’s giving you, the way he’s fucking you into the mattress. This is all you’ve ever wanted. Spencer fucking you like a madman, giving you all the pleasure you need but still being greedy enough to take and take and take. 

“Please! Spencer, you– I’m gonna cum, I can’t–” You cry, sobs wracking their way from your throat, so loud but you can’t be bothered to keep yourself quiet. Spencer groans your name, a sweet, sultry sound, and you feel like you’re going to lose your mind. 

“Cum for me,” Spencer hums. “You’re so perfect, and you’re laid out like this all for me. You’re so fucking hot. Show me how good I make you feel.”

You’re sobbing as your orgasm hits you, overwhelmed by Spencer’s filthy words and his filthier actions, so intense as he fucks you into next week. It’s too good, and you lose yourself much sooner than you expect. Your pussy clenches tight around Spencer with your orgasm, sending him over the edge as he fills you up, cock twitching as he cums inside of you.

He collapses on top of you, his weight comfortable as you both catch your breath. Your mouth feels dry, but you don’t care when Spencer is leaning over to kiss you again. It feels so right, this wild feeling you only thought existed in your dreams.

The next morning when the team is gathered in the hotel lobby to head to the hangar to fly back to Quantico, Emily gives you a pointed look, and Rossi is clapping Spencer on the back with a knowing grin. You apologise sheepishly, while Spencer grows red, avoiding eye contact with the rest of the team. He only meets your eyes, and the two of you share a smile. You can tell neither of you want this to end here. Maybe you’ll talk about it when you get back home. 

[nathaslosthershit]

Some Bad, But a Whole Lot of Good (LS2)

Summary: To the fans, it wouldn't be unreasonable to assume the week after his replacement had been hell for newly dropped Logan Sargeant, but to the people who knew him, they weren't worried. Warning: James Vowles slander, a lot of it, I made Logan yell at him because I want to yell at him

Getting fired a week before your first child was born wasn't on anyone's bucket list. But here Logan was.

He was mad- no he was furious. Sure, the past few months with the team have been miserable, but this was the worst timing possible.

"Why now? Why not the two weeks we were off on break?" Logan asks yells. He doesn't lose his cool, at least not like this, not by yelling at his boss.

"Logan, you have to understand we are in between a rock and a hard place. I am truly sorry but it's a difficult time for us-" Vowles begins to explain.

"A difficult time for you? I am about to have a fucking baby, James. Next week! What the fuck am I supposed to do?" He got up and ran his hand through his hair. "You just had a baby a year ago, I would have thought you of all people would have thought this through more."

"Believe me, we have Logan, we have discussed this at length for a long time now."

"Oh fuck you! You have been thinking about this for a long time and choose now to do something about it? God, James, why do you hate me so much? I know I haven't met expectations, I know I have fucked up, but I still have given everything to this team and this is how you end it?" he finally met his boss'- ex boss' now, I guess, stare.

As Logan looked at his team principal, he tried to see any remorse or sincerity in his eyes but just as he had suspected, James' apology was bullshit, completely insincere. He knew this wasn't going anywhere, he didn't even know why he was fighting.

Formula 1 had been the dream for a while. Logan had let himself sacrifice everything he could to achieve it. He tried to tell himself that he had made it and that he was happy, but it wasn't true. He couldn't face the reality of the dream he worked so hard for not being everything he had imagined.

After meetings about contract termination and how they were to proceed, a sad little goodbye party filled with people that were probably thrilled to have him go, and an actually heartfelt apology and goodbye from his teammate and those he worked closely with, the American left the factory for the last time.

The most difficult part of this whole affair? Telling his very pregnant wife that he was now unemployed, a week until their first child's due date.

After tears, cursing a certain British boss' bloodline, and dissociative silence, Logan sat next to his wife as she suddenly burst into laughter.

He was stunned, she was practically doubling over, at least as much as she could in her current condition. The sight so ridiculous given the circumstances that he began to laugh too.

Several minutes were spent laughing until their stomachs hurt and then trying to catch their breath before either one of them could say another word.

"This is such terrible timing!" she said, wiping her eyes as she continued to giggle.

"Could not me a worse time" he replied as he started to laugh even harder.

"God, we shouldn't be laughing at this! We have officially lost our minds"

"Perfect timing too! Just like everything else"

It was ironic, this was the absolute worse scenario Logan could come up with but this was also the hardest he had laughed in a long time. When was the last time he actually laughed? The last time he actually felt joy about anything involving his job?

As if she could sense what he was thinking, she took a few deep breaths, finally calming down, as she said, "This is insane of me to say, but maybe this is a good thing?"

He knew where she was going, he thought the same, but he needed to hear her rationalize it before he agreed.

"I mean, honey, you were miserable. And I am sorry because I did love some of the people on your team but most of them were jackasses! It was such a time commitment and you have spent so long giving everything to them just for the team to spit in your face. Plus, with savings and such, we have enough to be fine for a while, even with the baby. You finally can put your family and yourself first"

She was right, it was time he admitted to himself how much he had hated his job in the past few months. How miserable it made him. How he could hardly enjoy anything in his life because he was always thinking of how to improve, how to show he still has potential even with the shitty car he was given.

"Im sorry. I- its not fair that I spent so long chasing a dead end dream that I couldn't actually enjoy what I do have. I mean, I could never race again and I would be 1000 times happier with out little family then I could ever be in F1. I will never not put you both first again." He said as he looked at her, held the bump, and genuinely got to relish in what was to come.

The first race weekend since Logan was replaced, he wasn't stewing in his misery, he was sitting in the hospital next to his wife, holding his first born, and the last thing on his mind was what was happening anywhere else in the world outside of the room his entire life was currently in.

logansargeant

liked by alexalbon, jensonbutton, and others

logansargeant New job

user1 hey! so this is insane

user2 unemployment has never looked better

alexalbon This is a crazy way to hard launch fatherhood but good on you, mate!

logansargeant got to keep them guessing

user4 dilf era yes please

oscarpiastri how long is the contract?

logansargeant full time for 18 years, then after there is a bit more leeway, but there is certainly no retirement in my future

user3 replaced right before he had a BABY?! oh that British fuck better watch out

jensonbutton Such a big moment! So happy to see where life takes you, I know it will be great!

A/N: Had to finish this right after the news he is testing for indycar in november dropped!!! U-S-A U-S-A!

[hannieehaee]

Hii! How would Seventeen react to knowing that his gf is insecure about the size of her breasts (small breasts)?

18+ / mdi

their s/o being insecure about their small breasts

content: mentions of sex, body worship, insecurities, etc.

wc: 608

a/n: thank u for requesting sorry i took so long</3

masterlist

seungcheol -

as distracted as he becomes when he sees or hears anything about your boobs, he'd push those thoughts aside to comfort you about your insecurity. he'd be very vocal in letting you know how much he enjoys and loves your body exactly as it is!!

jeonghan -

giggles at you for some reason. he just finds it very silly, like how can you possibly not understand how pretty and perfect your body is? will coo at you and baby you and reassure you through all means necessary in order to make you see just how pretty he thinks you are.

joshua -

reassures you that as long as your boobs are involved, he's always having a good time. size is a worthless metric to him when it comes to boobs. a real boob man knows that size doesn't matter as long as a boob is present.

jun -

very confused. does not understand how why when who what. he's always been very enthusiastic about how much he enjoys your boobs, so it makes no sense to him that you could possibly feel insecure about it. literally will not understand the issue at hand.

soonyoung -

becomes a complete idiot the moment your boobs get brought up as a topic of conversation. any negative comment about your boobs goes in one ear out the other.

wonwoo -

so nice and sweet to you, basically babying you as he shows you just how pretty you are and how much he adores the size of your boobs. will get you on his lap and very meticulously demonstrate how much he likes you just as you are.

jihoon -

he'd really try to comfort you and reassure you over how beautiful and perfect and majestic he finds your body, but at the end of the day, he's just a man. any conversation about your boobs is just a lost battle when it comes to jihoon. he'll lose any bit of focus when you bring up your breasts.

seokmin -

he'll make you feel better through jokes, making himself the butt of any joke in order to make you realize that you're perfect and he loves everything about you even if you don't feel the same.

mingyu -

whines at you, fake annoyed that you'd insult or complain about one of his favorite things in this world. depending on your mood, he'd either coo at you and reassure you OR ease you out of your shirt to show you how much he likes them regardless of size.

minghao -

so sweet about it. would take your insecurity very seriously and do everything to make you see how its just a superficial thought and completely unfounded. will give you a whole speech about it but will still comfort and reassure you throughout.

seungkwan -

whines, huffs, cries, does everything to express his disagreement towards any negative feeling you have towards your body. cannot understand how you'd ever not be as obsessed with your boobs as he is (or your entire self for that matter). will tone it down and actually comfort you if you need it, but will mostly want to enthusiastically express his love for your boob size.

vernon -

his brain cannot really process a possible insecurity over the size of your boobs. you could bust them out at any moment and he'll forget how to speak either english or korean.

chan -

yet another member confused as hell as to what there is to be insecure about. as the number one fan of your boobs, he'd even be kinda offended at the insinuation that there's anything wrong with your boobs. will enthusiastically show you his love for them if you let him!!

[crystalizedcryolite]

Woah woah woah what's this I'm hearing about Green hate?? Is this true? Probably not, but this is a great opportunity to explain character flaws! :D (I was saving this analysis for when the entire arc is done but whatever)

A perfect, flawless character is a boring character. What fun will there be if your character did everything right in the world, no mistakes to let them grow or problems they can learn from? This helps create conflict, which helps expand on a character and develop them further.

Green's ego problem, his whole attention and fame-obsession thing, is a part of his character for a reason. Flaws in a character makes them more realistic and relatable, you feel me?

Green is actually a really complex character, and that's something I love most about him. That's why he's my favourite.

He can be kind, he can be a cocky jerk, he can be selfish, he can be selfless, he loves his friends, he doesn't understand what he's doing to them, all of it. His character flaws make him feel real.

His wanting for a bigger taste of fame, his slowly losing himself to the world of content creation? It's realistic. It happens everyday.

I, of course, hate what he's doing to his friends, hell, I've been there before, but that's simply necessary for his character arc. When he realises his mistake, he's going to grow from it. He's going to become a better person, I just know it.

How do I know? Because we've seen it time and time and time again.

Green showing off when he wins every build battle, Green getting cocky when dodging Red’s pranks, his anger when he loses? Those flaws have been established since day one.

Except he's still a good person.

He remained loyal to his friends, genuinely loves and cares about them so very much, and most definitely the type to drop everything for them.

(I hope, if my analysing skills are any good..)

And who's the one who comforted Purple after all he's done to them?

Green.

He's still including his friends, albeit a lot, lot less. He still cares about them, he's still trying to give them some spotlight, but he doesn't understand that they don't want that. Doesn't understand yet, anyway.

Sure, he's losing himself to the taste of fame, sure he's currently filled with an ego-driven, attention-seeking drive right now, but he'll learn soon.

That's what makes a character arc so darn good. Sometimes the problem isn't an outside force, or an enemy to battle, or something to stop.

Sometimes the problem is yourself, and it's something that needs to be changed.

Maybe the whole point of this fame-chasing arc is to let Green learn more about humility, in all it's glory, and the dangers of devoting your life to giving content to a bunch of strangers.

Or maybe not, who knows? There's still two episodes for the influencer arc, after all.

I can't wait to see how Green's character arc goes for it :D

(I don't mean any malice towards anyone, by the way! This is just me analysing Green's character :>

[pepurika]

what inspired you to tell the story of a character like jamis? was he one of the first characters you came up with, and was his character role/creation really tied to remy from the start? you've done a really wonderful job at showing his growth/arc so far, and it seems like jamis and remy grow really in tandem with each other, so I was wondering how you came up with them and their struggles (for example, if you've just always been drawn to those character archetypes or if someone you know/a character you like inspired you) sorry for the long question!! i really love tigers <3 you're such a good storyteller!!!

Jamis and Remy were very tied together from the start! I wrote this whole story with the thought that Ludo/luck and jamis/remy will be sort of different sides of the same coin- jamis and remys arc is... softer? to me, more about the social structures and relationship drama- while Ludo and luck are more explosive and adventurous, creepy and wild.

balancing between the two storylines has helped me so much staying interested in drawing this story for years, every now and then when I grew tired of either one I could always switch to the other. highly recommended trick for other webcomic makers with adhd lmao!!

anyway about jamis; I needed one character that was a counter balance for all the secrecy and plotting in remys life- he lives in the world of traders where he has to navigate a sea of lies and schemes, and jamis is the complete opposite of that world- even to a fault maybe! he always speaks his mind, and he is true to his feelings (even if he might not understand them himself...) summa summarum, I wanted to make a character that's easy to love and easy to forgive, and even if he makes a ton of mistakes, they don't come from a malicious place.

and about remys and jamis love story, I just really wanted to write something that felt kind of doomed from the start (from remys pov at least haha), but then slowly... there builds up a chance, that even if you live in this world where you have to hide your love, there is a possibility for a happy ending. and I wanted it to build up slowly until- well, you'll just have to wait until the end to see what I have planned!!

also, to me remy and Ludo are the duo-main characters of this story, Ludo on the front as the one who makes things happen, and jamis and luck are the supporting characters for their stories. so everything rotates around Ludo and remy!

[aurumalatus]

𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞 [𝟏]

pairing. kinich x fem!reader

word count. 1.5k

genre/warnings. childhood friends to lovers, slow burn, fluff and angst, drabble collection, mentions of abuse/alcoholism

summary.

in which kinich learns the value of all things: lives, friendship, and, of course, you. or, in which kinich realizes that you are the only priceless thing in this world.

author's note. first meetings and a slight introduction to our characters! i imagine each drabble will have a pretty varying length, so this one is a bit on the shorter side! either way, i hope you enjoy :) interaction is highly appreciated!

↢ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ↣

𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗙𝗜𝗥𝗦𝗧 𝗣𝗥𝗢𝗠𝗜𝗦𝗘

Kinich meets you in the spring.

The air is warm and balmy that day, with a breeze that brushes by the skin with pleasant coolness. His mother likes to take him to the market with her on days like these, probably for his own good. She tells him he’s a bit unsociable for his age, not that he disagrees—he just doesn’t see any point in changing. He does just fine spending his days at home, exploring the land around his house.

This kind of weather brings everyone outside, which leaves the market bustling—sellers scream their prices and show off their wares, and buyers haggle until their wallets are empty. He walks around with his mother for a bit, one hand gripping her skirt, and she offers him bits of candy and other treats. He rejects them all; really, he doesn’t want for much.

Still, he’s a more independent child, so eventually his mother leaves him to explore the various market stands while she goes around buying the more “boring” items. She probably hopes that he’ll make a friend or two, but he never does—most of the children don’t play in this area. They prefer to play with the Yumkasauri near the outskirts of the tribe.

Either way, he does end up looking around for a bit. Yanta, an elderly woman that sells fruit, gives him some berries to try, and he leaves with his tongue sweetened. He peers at some of the climbing gear, too, with astronomical prices that he would never be able to afford—at least not while his father gambles every Mora away. As the time passes, the crowd starts to get a bit stifling, so Kinich wanders away in search of a quieter place.

He settles for one of the walkways outside of the market, letting his legs dangle over the edge so he can look down at the river. There’s Yumkasauri whelps playing below, bumping each other into the water and screeching with joy. 

Laughter echoes from somewhere nearby—the sound of children, children like him. He tucks his knees to his chest. He has no need for friends, not when there is still so much to learn about the land. He thinks of his mother and the fresh welts on her skin. When he’s older, when he’s more capable, when he knows more, he can help her. Maybe one day they’ll be able to leave this place, or maybe just that man.

A burst of wind slips by—it carries the scent of flora, fuzzy yellow ones that make his eyes water and the purpling blooms that his mother loves. The recognition makes his head turn, just in time to see you run past him, a clump of flowers falling from your grip. You don’t seem to notice, and they fall uselessly to the wooden walkway, inches away from Kinich’s pinky. 

He eyes the flowers curiously—the petals are so bright, yet dainty and thin. Then, he looks toward your rapidly disappearing figure.

And really, he doesn’t know why he cares. He should go find his mom and go home. His father will be there soon anyway, and that’s a whole different beast to contend with; he doesn’t have the time or energy to be concerned with you. 

So he doesn’t really understand himself when he grabs the flowers, pushes himself to his feet, and jogs until your back is within his reach. Another step, and then his fingers wrap around your wrist just as you yelp in surprise. 

The first thought he has when you turn to face him is that you’re quite pretty, and that you look to be his age—he shakes it away just as fast. Instead, he nods toward the bundle of flowers sitting in your arms.

“You dropped some,” he mumbles, opening his palm to you. It reveals a pile of crushed petals and snapped stems, and his face reddens in embarrassment. He hadn’t thought to be so careful in his rush to chase you. When he looks up, your lips are barely parted in surprise, and he awkwardly tugs at his collar.

“Ah, I’m sorry.”

He’s not good at this, he realizes instantly. Years of sticking to his own have left his social skills lacking, and he grasps blindly for something to say. Instead, you’re the first to break the silence—you laugh, a bell-like sound that he finds a bit cute.

“Wow, I must’ve been going pretty fast,” you say, head tilted. “Sorry about that! My momma used to say I run like the wind!”

Kinich tries not to get stuck on the ‘used to’ in your words, but fails—he wonders if you’re alone. It must be difficult, he’s sure, but there are some nights when the stench of alcohol grows too strong and the screams grow too loud where he wonders if it might be preferable. He’s thinking too long, and the silence grows awkward, so he forces himself to speak.

“What are the flowers for?”

It’s your turn to be embarrassed now, an awkward giggle escaping your lips as you shift your weight between your feet. 

“I was thinking about making flower crowns for the other kids in the tribe. They don’t really like playing with me lately, maybe ‘cause I’m alone, so I wanted to do something so we could all be friends again.”

Kinich doesn’t really get it—what would be the point of playing with someone who doesn’t like you? Something about the situation tells him it wouldn’t be the right thing to say, though, so he merely nods. You seem genuine, and while he may be socially inept at times, he’s not mean-spirited. Quietly, however, he notes that the stems of the flowers you have are too long—you’d have trouble making flower crowns with these. 

“Have you ever made crowns before?” he asks, doubtful. 

“Nope,” you answer honestly, “is it that obvious?”

Living at the foot of the mountain meant he had become much more familiar with the nature surrounding the tribe. His mother had been teaching him a few things lately, particularly related to farming and weaving. A flower crown would be simple work, certainly. 

He frowns. He shouldn’t do this, but you’re looking at him so expectantly.

“I could show you how—”

“Kinich!”

His mother appears just then, cheeks reddened and hair sticking wildly to her forehead. Various bags hang from her arms, evidence of her shopping, but she casts them aside in favor of grabbing at his wrist. 

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you! I thought you got lost, or even kidnapped! What were you thinking? You’re not usually like this!”

You vaguely think that the two look quite alike; he has her eyes, save for the purpling bruise that sits just underneath her left one. You’ve had similar ones from banging your knees on things, but none in a place so front-facing.

Kinich hangs his head, stepping away from you quickly. “I’m sorry, Mom.”

Shame radiates from his form in waves, so potent you can practically feel it yourself. You grab his other wrist out of instinct, and he raises his eyes to you in surprise.

“I’m sorry too, ma’am,” you say. The woman looks shocked, gaze flitting to where your hand joins with his. “I was clumsy and took up too much of his time. It’s my fault if he was late.”

Kinich’s heart flips, and he’s unsure why—maybe because he’s never had anyone defend him like this, maybe because he’s never had anyone defend him at all. His mother looks just as flabbergasted as he does, only returning to her senses when she notices the setting sun. She sighs, addressing her son again.

“Your father will be home soon,” she says, retrieving her bags, and Kinich visibly stiffens. “We should go.”

Gentle, he twists his wrist from your grip, quietly following his mother as she starts to leave. There’s a similar sadness to the hunch of their backs, as if they’re dreading returning home—you wonder if you’re imagining it. Kinich, you remember his mother calling him. You like the sound of it.

“Kinich!” 

He turns at the call of his name, so unfamiliar from your lips. You’re smiling brightly, holding up two of the flowers you’d picked.

“Next time, teach me how to make a flower crown, okay?”

/

His mother doesn’t speak as they make the walk home. He lets the wind fill the silence, whistling through the trees and carrying him with its lulling sound. It’s one of the few pleasures he finds nowadays when he retreats outside, skin purpling with fresh bruises.

They inch the front door open, tentative and wincing, half-expecting his father to burst out in a drunken rage—they’re only met with silence. Relieved, Kinich’s mother sets about putting away the groceries, and Kinich collapses into bed, letting his eyes fall shut as the sun dims outside. He tries to savor the last few minutes he has, distantly praying that his father might come home sober today. 

He thinks of the market, and then he thinks of the flowers. He thinks about the flowers, and then he thinks about them some more—a little longer than is natural for him.

Just as he slips into sleep, Kinich realizes that he never asked for your name.

[ssentimentals]

seventeen members as love tropes: xu minghao

enemies to lovers

'you're not mine but wouldn't you want to be?'

minghao tries is hardest to stay calm but all these higher ups are making it really hard. he turns to look at you and the sight of your hunched back and bitten raw lips makes him boil. are you two friends? no, far from it. minghao is very aware of the whole 'enemies' agenda that is happening between you both, but does he want to see you like this? nervous, agitated, scared? no. fucking hell, no. he wants to see you burning with passion, wants to see that fire in your eyes whenever you two argue - minghao feels like he's been punched in the chest when he realizes that he's ready to kill just for you to not look this scared.

'can we wrap this up?' he voices out loud, not bothering to hide his annoyance. 'i don't see any point in this.'

'it'd be wise for you to be more polite and remember who you are talking to, xu minghao.'

he sees how you cringe at this, how your hands ball up into fists at the way that man spoke to him. understanding that you are angered on his behalf warms minghao up; it feels incredibly nice to know that you care. he keeps his mouth shut, lets managers drag on about the issue and takes two step in your direction, stopping when your shoulders brush. you tense up at first, sending him a questioning glance but he only stays put to which you reply with a rejected sigh. they lecture him and then start lecturing you and minghao can't just stand still when you're obviously fuming. they are being rude to you and the words are out of his mouth before he can think them through: 'don't talk to her like that.' your sharp intake of breath kind of wakes him up and he stares ahead at all the managers, who all look shell shocked.

'you have no right to talk to her like that.' minghao pushes in a clipped tone. 'she did her best and so did i, our timing got fucked up but it's not our fault. don't speak to her in that tone.'

shortly after you get pulled away by other people and minghao is in for another 30 minutes of lecturing. by the time he finally gets out of that stuffy room, he feels like he wasted ten years of his life on nothing. he sighs, stretches and is about to turn when soft steps stop him. he knows it's you even before you call out his name.

'why did you do that?' you ask, squinting at him. 'why the sudden hero act?'

'it wasn't an act,' he says, rolling his eyes. god, he's so tired. 'but you're welcome.'

'i haven't asked for it,' you spit out, obviously angered. 'i don't need your pity.'

minghao turns around, raising his eyebrow. 'i have never pitied you,' he says strongly, feeling himself getting worked up again as some stupid side effect on you being close. 'can't you just say 'thank you' and move on?'

'i don't need your help!' you hiss. 'i haven't asked for it!'

and - only you can make minghao want to both bang his head on the wall from frustration and laugh like a maniac. he sometimes wants to step closer, pull you into his arms and... he doesn't know. part of him wants to strangle you for being so damn difficult all the fucking time, but another part wants to smash your mouths together so you can finally shut up. minghao is aware of how unhealthy it is just as he is aware of how often your gaze falls on his lips or his biceps. it's good to know he's not the only one who's gone mad. they say it's a fine line between hatred and love and for minghao right now this line is so thin that he barely see it anymore. is it the same for you? he wants to ask, but instead he says: 'why you didn't stop me then? you always could just interrupt me over there but you didn't say a thing. if you don't need my help why i was the one who you turned to when authorities came? you didn't say anything but you searched for me with your eyes, don't even try to deny it.'

five steps. that's the distance that separates you two and minghao thinks it's fitting. he can take two and then you can take two and then maybe you'll play game of chicken on that last step. but you surprise him with taking all those five steps yourself, storming onto him with fire in your eyes that he loves so much. 'you're not the one to talk, minghao. you think i don't know that it was you who asked everyone to wait up for me? who brought medicine to my team when i fell sick?' you try to push him on his chest but minghao easily catches you wrist in his, not letting you move. 'let me go.'

'that's not what you want.' he says in a calm tone that doesn't show all the hurricane which's happening inside of him.

reality of how close you two are standing dawns on you. jerkily, you try to step back but his hold on you is too strong. 'let me go,' you whisper, voice wavering. 'hao, let me go.'

hao. 'that's not what you want,' minghao whispers and lets his other hand wrap around your waist, pulling you even closer to his chest. 'tell me what you really want, angel.' he sees how you shudder at the petname and smiles, leaning in. he lets go of your wrist, locking his arms around you instead. 'you can go if you want.' he leans in, brushing your noses together. 'or you can stay. and i can never, ever let you go. which i think is what you actually want.'

it's brave. it's bold, it's brazen and - it works. your body sags in his arms and you hide your face in his neck, hugging him back. 'prick,' you mutter into his neck, raising goosebumps where your lips touch his skin. 'self absorbed asshole.'

'yeah,' minghao easily agrees, hugging you tighter. 'prick, self absorbed asshole that i will never, ever let you go.'

a/n: this one is a bit vague but i couldn't figure out how to write this for the live of me. i hope this was okay? let me know! - nini

my seventeen works are here

my formula 1 works are here

[paper-mario-wiki]

I feel like I've ended up in the same spot as so transmasc before me: I have a lovely cis boyfriend who loves my tits which I love for him, but I am getting dysphoric to the point I wanna lift my lips and show a lil teeth when I see his hands coming towards them. Feels bad because they are his favorite and we haven't been fucking as much because as soon as he starts touching me I am out of it™ and get all in my head and freeze up. Any advice?

good god, brother. i am utterly baffled at why you have elected me as the strategist for this problem, and i'm even more confused as to why you have chosen to go into as much detail as you have.

but.

if i were to give you some advice on this

i'd say that you should consider a conversation with your partner about the long-term plan for the relationship. a "relationship" is two lives that are connected, right? and your life is not one where you're gonna have boobs for the rest of it (or at least based on what you've told me i would assume, should you have your way, those bad boys are gettin lopped off at some point), therefore it's pertinent that it be brought up, because it concerns your life, therefore it concerns the relationship, therefore it concerns him, yes?

now, the first and most obvious thing to start with out the gate is the boundary, made clear and concise: the hills are now closed, off limits to tourists. all discussions regarding this come next. make it clear that it's about something quite core to your identity, and something that does in fact cause physical pain (a panic response from the nervous system is pain homie).

this brings some followup questions (and remember, this isn't an interrogation, it's a dialogue to share): how does he feel about this? if he's against, why? for that matter, how much does it bother him? is there something he doesn't understand about your discomfort? is there some concern he has about your financial or bodily well-being with regards to the procedure? is it because it's vital to his attraction to you as a partner? if that's the case, would their removal be a deal-breaker?

now keep in mind, these question can be brought up whether or not you've got immediate plans to engage in the aforementioned lopping-off of your aforementioned Bad Boys, because the actual point of this dialectical exercise is to create a simple, easy to navigate, easy to understand conversation, which will set a foundation for further negotiations-- should you learn something new about each other, or yourselves, or the relationship as a whole.

either way, i do not think that letting it keep happening and keeping it to yourself is a good idea. i can understand feeling guilty about withholding some physical and emotional gratification you could give "easily" to this person you care dearly for, but trust me when i say that it's not the way to let it be. not just because it's unfair to your partner to secretly grow to resent them for a reason you don't want to vocalize, but to yourself as well.

you may not know it, but by keeping it to yourself you're slowly building up a resentment. that frustration actually shows up pretty clearly in your message. and even if what you're frustrated about is only that particular activity, that activity is irrevocably tied to another person. specifically, a person that you consider to be a pretty central pillar in your life. if that resentment grows, it can evolve into anger, hatred, fear, paranoia, and all sorts of nasty things. and even aside from the emotional and psychological damage that can do, it can grow into a physiological issue, where your brain wears out more and more due to the growing emotional distress ripping through your neurons with all sorts of "emergency" chemicals. like i said, the panic response is a physical pain, even if your body doesn't feel like it "hurts".

so. to summarize.

ABSOLUTELY bring it up. if you don't, it could become damaging to your relationship, and also your actual real life physical brain.

when you do bring it up, remember that the goals are to set a boundary, and to reach an understanding through mutual conversation. it's a dialogue, not a lecture.

when you reach an understanding, figure out if the relationship needs to be renegotiated in some way. that usually means new boundaries, or expectations. or maybe nothing! though surely your boyfriend can find more things to love about you.

that's as best as i can muster. you don't have to follow it, but hopefully it'll at least give you some ideas you can use.

[barrenclan]

HI i just finished reading the comic and it's so so incredible!!!! your art is gorgeous and your work with the story is completely unmatched <3

I've been listening to the song Butcher Vanity by Vane Lily a lot and it strikes me as a Deepdark song!

Thank you! I'm so glad you like the comic. I agree, Deepdark's desire to kill and eat and never stop consuming is what defines him. I'll use the chance to share a PMV by my pal Katti, the creator of The Exiled comic who made a really excellent PMV with the song :)

I think someone else had the same idea as well, it looks like it's already been suggested before :) but yes it does fit very well! Any song about a land/town/etc that's been cursed and rotten forever works great.

Tell me now of the very soul that look alike, look alike Do you know the stranglehold covering their eyes? If I call on every soul in the land, on the moon Tell me if I'll ever know a blessing in disguise

The curse ruled from the underground, down by the shore And their hope grew with a hunger to live unlike before

I never knew this song was from the Justice League movie?? Wow, that's wild. It is a good song for PATFW as a whole.

Everybody knows that the dice are loaded Everybody rolls with their fingers crossed Everybody knows the war is over Everybody knows the good guys lost Everybody knows the fight was fixed The poor stay poor, the rich get rich That's how it goes Everybody knows

I have! In fact, the song "Hellfire" is the character theme song for Cootstorm. I made a drawing of it awhile ago.

Did you know that in fact someone made an animated video with Rainhaze to this very song? It's really cool, you should check it out!

Yeah, it's pretty Rainhaze! Especially in his post-Asphodelpaw murder manic phase.

If you knew what I knew, if you saw what I see You’d look through illusions, hallucinations, and lucid dream And I know that meaning can be such a pretty thing to keep But I got facts and I’m not afraid to use ‘em, take the good with the bad, take off the back you make a new front Some days I'm glad that I am a madman and I’d rather be that than An amicable animal, mild-mannered cannibal

Aww wait :(

Looks like the cat did a number on you Vienna, oh He took a brick off the side of the stoop Poor vienna It'll be over soon Your mamas waiting for ya But you're not coming home

Your mamas been so worried Cause you never came home Beneath the ground you're buried In memoriam

Yes I think it could be! Even more, I think it's exemplary of Deepdark's general charisma and desire to recruit people into Defiance, reminiscent of his speech from Issue 28.

You and me should go outside And beat 'em, beat 'em, beat 'em, beat 'em, beat 'em All pathetic flag waving ignorant geeks And we'll eat 'em, eat 'em, eat 'em, eat 'em, eat 'em

Come join the cause, come join the cause Who wants to come with me and come join the cause? Hide in the sky, hide in the sky Who wants to come with me and hide in the sky?

Oh, my mom loves this album, I grew up listening to it. This does remind me a bit of them, how sweet and sad.

And instead of saying all of your goodbyes Let them know you realize that life goes fast It's hard to make the good things last You realize the sun doesn't go down It's just an illusion caused by the world spinning round

Do you realize That you have the most beautiful face? Do you realize?

What a unique take on their relationship! I do like the theme of Ranger guiding Rainhaze's hand, and the parent-child energy is very interesting for them. Interesting take on Mordred, for that matter.

Guileless Son, I'll shape your belief And you'll always know that your father's a thief And you won't understand the cause of your grief But you'll always follow the voices beneath

Loyalty Loyalty Loyalty Loyalty Loyalty Loyalty Loyalty only to me

[gabessquishytum]

Dreams relationship with Hob had a number of positive influences on Dream, Some of them expected, others- not so much. And the most unexpected of them all was Dreams improved relationship with Desire.

Now that Dream has someone who loves him for everything he is and does not want hm to restrain any part of himself his understanding of Desire has grown. Their realms had never been closer.

Dream is a little surprised to find how well Desire already knew him, that Desire previous meddling with Dreams love affairs had been genuine attempts on Desires part to help him find a good partner (or more often then not, to keep away the bad ones)

Desire was the first to know how deeply Dream loved and how much he would desire a soulmate.

So when Hob and Dream decide to tie themselves together for all eternity Dream knows exactly who to ask to help him pick out his wedding dress (and of course what he is going to wear underneath it)

I love myself some Good-But-Bratty-Sibling-Desire

This is so sweet, I just love the idea of Dream having greater love and respect for Desire because he just understands them a lot more? And Desire can focus on actually loving and getting to know their big brother properly, now he's in a steady relationship <33

And Dream gets to do a lil wedding dress try on montage while Desire critiques each outfit ("sweet Dream do you HAVE to wear black to your own wedding? You do? Well, if you insist...") and they have champagne together, and it's so much fun! Desire even specifically designs the prettiest gossamer underwear for Dream wear (its special feature is that it will dissolve as soon as Hob touches it, responding only to his touch). And of course Desire has to plan a bachelor party for Dream, with all the other Endless siblings in attendance, and Desire is nice enough not to turn the whole thing into an orgy with all the gods and goddesses of the universe. Instead everyone tells silly stories and there's singing and dancing. Dream has such a lovely time, he hugs Desire tightly and thanks them for making him feel so loved.

And Desire probably responds by tickling him or licking his cheek, but deep down they're so relieved to have their big brother back in their life. They can't wait to see him walk down the aisle - and if Hob ever hurts him, well, Desire already has a 100 different ways to make him pay. Just in case!!

[sereh624]

things redacted!boys do to try and impress their listeners ☀️

david ;

david loves to cook for angel. he loves the whole process of it, watching the meal come together through preparation, cooking and assembly, then to be served and enjoyed thoroughly by his mate, who's culinary skills leave... much to be desired.

it's not hard to impress someone who's gone months living off instant ramen and coffee, but david likes to be extra anyway (little fuckin leaf on the dish type shit).

milo ;

much like a peacock flaunts his feathers, milo likes to dress up for every single occasion. i imagine sweetheart as going from some loser (and not in the hot way) who wears corny t-shirts, jeans and ugly converses to every event to milo greer. it's a change they welcome with open arms and a red face. it also makes milo proud, to show off both himself and his mate's excellent sense of style, even if it leaves a certain pack beta simmering in the corner as he tries to make an old, ugly belt look good.

sam ;

knowing that darlin' came from someone who likely put very little effort into their relationship, sam chose to go the "acts of service" route. everytime something of darlin's would break, or fall apart, or need fixing, sam would be on it right away. he knows a whole lot more than he gives himself credit for. everytime darlin' hears "let me get that for you," it makes them melt, feeling far more appreciated by him than they had anyone in their entire life.

sam does it for himself too. he likes to do things for someone he knows will appreciate it, someone who won't take his kindness and mistake it for something else. he lives to do things for the people he loves, and survives to spite the people he doesn't (alexiSCOUGHCOUCGH).

porter ;

everything this man does is impressive i love u porter solaire

hush ;

(strange character selection, i know, but he's growing on me. loving hush is an infectious disease and my friends are the carriers)

not quite as sentimental, and i don't really picture him doing this with the intent to impress, but hush likes to spout random, strangely specific facts/observations at doc. for someone who doesn't appear to understand the intricacies and irrationalities of the human world, he has a far more brilliant, clearer lense on it than anyone doc has ever met. it astounds them.

they'll be stood in silence, people watching, when hush cranes his neck to face doc in an uncanny manner and blurts out something like "the man beside the lampshade has been stood there for... five minutes, thirty seven seconds and counting. he's been staring at his phone. from what i've heard, he's currently.."

doc just nods along.

"oh. uh. wow. that's.. how did you?- yup, nevermind actually. very cool."

@skunkox @vividmilk @definitelynuwonhere

[evilminji]

You know my Crechelings Are Possessed post?

What if it was just the one? A SI-OC or OC?

Dying and going THROUGH the Force? I will attest, is GONNA have side effects. You're gonna end up... weird. Not Normal for a Force Sensitive. Kinda like Anikin tbh. A bit TOO in tune. A bit TOO aware. Connected.

As though your brain was cracked open 5+ dimensionally, to the Whole Of Creation that IS the Force and it kinda fucked you up a bit. Cause as A Luminous Force Being? You were fine! Energy and light! But as MATTER? Well...

Matter breaks.

Can withstand only so much.

We are LIMITED by our matter, crude and flawed as it is. Beloved as it may be.

Cause make no mistake! You aren't BROKEN. But you are CHANGED. There were a series of clear, monumentous, and "life" altering events back to back here! Death, a traumatizing thing no matter HOW peaceful it may have been. And in all likelihood? It was NOT a peaceful end. It probably? Hurt. Was frightening. Abrupt. There is grief and hurt there. Fear.

Then the trauma of being separated from everyone we have ever known. Without closure. For them OR us. Our empathy would remind us of their suffering. That they do NOT know we are okay. That we have no way to TELL them we are. This too, is trauma. But? Worse?

Is the Force.

We? Are no Jedi. Not yet. We are confused. Lost and do not understand. It is FOREIGN to us. An outside will that we cannot escape. Where are our gods? The death we expected? The afterlife we assumed we would meet? It's INSIDE US. It IS US. We are IT. We don't know where we are and everything feels?

E N D L E S S .

Can force ghosts even cry? Weep, terrified and overwhelmed? Afraid? Simply BRINGING us to them would not impart understanding. And imparting understanding? Well... we know it to be not OF us? To be inflicted. An invasion. The Force is not cruel. But! Importantly! It is not and has never BEEN? Mortal.

Blue and Orange morality is at play. How do you explain to a formless, infinite, all knowing, all powerful God Force? The concept of "boundaries"? Limits? There is GOOD to be done. It's helping you! Pushing love and comfort! Surely that should work? Why is that not working? It is... confused. Not MADE for such contemplations.

This too, is Trauma. Being held in the hands of a God. Benevolent does not mean SAFE. Does not mean you will not be unharmed. Just... that they do not MEAN to harm you.

Or have very Good Reasons for why they "Must".

The Force Ghosts help. They are patient in the way only old Master's could be. Kind. They understand. Have taught. And so? Though they are quite confused, they understand you struggle to release your fear. Explaining things helps. Talking helps. And you find peace.

Not the afterlife you EXPECTED, but not terrible.

Which... of course, is when once again things change.

Birth, Life, these TOO, are Trauma. You were FREE. No more pain. No aches. No hunger, no thirst, no exhaustion. Connection deeper then this broken and flawed matter could ever hope to achieve. The world has gone SILENT. Muffled. Like solitary confinement for the SOUL.

Only in meditation, are you FREE.

Your parents can't handle you. You grieve for them. For the child they should have had. Look around the nursery, so filled with excitement and love, and feel nothing but the urge to weep. You are a stillborn, brought to life. A child stolen. They deserved better then this. Even as you can not be anything but what you ARE? What of THEIR sorrow? Their confusion and futures now impossible?

You love them. They are not yours. Will never tryely be your parents, for all they brought you into this world. But oh, Oh, you love these poor grieving souls. Wish it had not been you. That they could have had the child they were so excited to love. You... you are sorry. So, so sorry.

They take you to the Temple. You guild them to a child in need, first. Hope they will be happy.

You do not look back.

They put you in a Creche with others just as "Unusually Strong" in the Force. Is that Grogu? Hi Grogu. Who are the rest of you? The room is quite. Everyone talking loudly in the Force, instead. It would be deafening for the more delicate younglings. They don't have the shields for it yet. The children here SHOUT without meaning too, like standing at a rock concert.

Visions are a constant thing. Unusual Force gifts and manifestations. Illirrrska can see auras. Doesn't know what they MEAN, mind you, and xe sees them on EVERYTHING that lives, but still! Xey are well on xeir way to figuring it out. (Xey have a holo document cataloging the colors, you see.)

You fit right in! With your Tiny Herald Of Death To Come nature. Your Creche mates believe you. The adults? Have grown numb. Used to filtering. Tiny younglings with Too Much Force flowing through them? Are horrors. Viscerally unsettling. Unnatural.

Even to the Jedi.

But! They REFUSE to treat children with such caution and distain. Hold them at an arms length out of FEAR. So they mentally filter. "That's nice dear, horrifying concepts and brain melting secrets, mmmhmmm. Eat your pudding. Who wants to play float ball~‽ Yaaaaaay!"

No one will listen. Future in motion. But really, of course it is. You are no fool.

However... tell me, Master Jedi. Does it matter? If we die one step to the right as apposed to the left? Because you would not LISTEN when the Force spoke? The future only changes when you ACT. Not when you REFUSE too. Out of FEAR. Out of IGNORANCE. Out of ATTACHMENT.

And make no mistake, you ARE attached. Clinging so hard to your beliefs that you could not POSSIBLY be wrong. Could not POSSIBLY be fallible, be fooled by the Dark Side and lead astray, that you have turned your back on the very Tennants of the Code itself.

What is more important? Tradition or the Force? The innocent or the way things were? Tell me, what is the will of the Force... and what is Fear? Convenience? The little moral compromises that damn? Who do you serve, Master Jedi? And ARE you serving them?

Perhaps you should meditate.

Just???

This Tiny Cryptid Crecheling? That speaks like a wizened old Master? Feels like a tiny star in the Force? Not a cute lil ball of light. A FUCKING STAR. Giant ball of gas in space, a burning ball of light, THAT kind of star! But... small? Person shaped. It's like meditating next to a Force Nexus.

They just? Hand you things. Or sabotage random ships. Literally just FUCKING SHOT a knight once, for no clear reason! All they would say is "it's not like you'll actually listen. This is the only way." What? Of COURSE WE'LL LISTEN! (No. They won't. Just ask Sifo. Ask Obi-Wan. The Sith, fear, and hubris have eroded the Jedi from within.)

The full blown confidence of an adult? Combined with the creepy "oh god. They're in THE VENTS!!!" Nature of highly force sensitive Crechelings?

Magnificent~☆

They can see into your SOUL. Are holding a toddler that squirms around, wiggles up to whisper in their ear, gets a nod, only for YOU to be somberly informed that your second in command (a life long friend) has betrayed you. Avoid wearing red. You will die on a Friday. By the way, they can't reach the counter... could you hand them those snacks?

One of the other one speaks to trees.

The trees SPEAK BACK.

Prophecy. Fuckin Terrifying Prophecy EVERYWHERE.

Did YOU want to know that your grandson will grow up to kill his brother? No? Too bad! Not even married yet? ALSO TOO BAD! Have FUN with that knowledge! How about learning that there is horrific suffering planets away? No. No there ISN'T anything you can do about it. Just... here! Have some Deeply Cursed Knowledge. From a toddler. Now! They're gonna go eat grass~☆

The appear and disappear at random. Climb the walls. Fuckin FLOAT. The Force itself is their imaginary friend! They literally consult it over PUDDING CHOICES. Sometimes? They talk in perfect synchronization, like a hive mind. Stare without blinking. One moment they are perfectly normal children... the next? Like PUPPETS.

Tiny avatars. Through which SOMETHING GREATER speaks. They KNOW, not think, KNOW what they need to do. You can not convince them. Trying just makes you an obstacle to be overcome.

They are four.

Toddlers and children. Younglings. Initiates!

I just? Want there to be? A portion of Deeply Cursed/Possessed Crechelings? That are just LIKE that. Loved regardless. Nothing wrong with them. They're just too strong for their lil bitty baby brains. Once they learn to shield better? It'll balance out. Anikin would have gone there, had he been found young.

It'd be hilarious? If what saves the galaxy? Is someone finally REMEMBERING that? And thinking to themselves?

"Hey, you know what might be good for that Skywalker kid? Being exposed to more Force Sensitives that GET him. We should put him on Cursed Crechelings duty for a bit." And??

Anikin? Is in LOVE? They are all so SMOL an NORMAL? Finally! Jedi who aren't EMOTIONALLY DISTANT! Shielded? What do mean "Shielded"? No I'm not shouting all the time! This is my normal speaking voice! *Skywalker confusion as he cuddles babies*

Cause like? He too? Spoke in horrifying prophecy? Was vaguely Anti-christ-y? Did the (o.o) see into your sooooooul stare? So WHAT? That's just how babies ARE!

.....what do you MEAN "no"?

Every day, throwing open Obi-Wan's poor, slowly being destroyed, front door like "Master! Did you know I am AN OUTLIER!? And REALLY LOUD!? Other people aren't emotionally crippled psychopaths, they're just really REALLY quite compared to me!!" "Ah. Yes, Anikin, please. Maybe say that LOUDER. I don't think the ENTIRE temple quite heard you... -_- "

Just?? Anikin Skywalker! And his Hoard of Creepy Possessed Crechelings that are TOTALLY NORMAL, Guys! All kids are like this! He's a GREAT role model and baby sitting! Yeah, it's the Clone wars, and no, he has NO idea how the entire Creche got onto the ship... but hey! Enrichment! That's good for them, right?

(^-^) (o.o) (|o.o|) (o,o) (o-o) (|o,o|)

*clones look from their general, to the tiny unblinking magic jedi babies, back to their general* s-sure?

@legitimatesatanspawn @spidori @babbling-babull @hdgnj @hypewinter @leftnotright @starwarsblr

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Now, with the 'Nightmare before Christmas' event fast approaching, how does it feel to know that there's a high chance of your old Oc coming to life? What was his name again? Ah yes, Jinx Skelton I think. Old follower here 👋

Even though I have to be honest I doubt we'll get any new characters this Halloween. I mean wouldn't it be strange for them to release new characters every Halloween? First it was Rollo then Fellow and now again? I doubt it honestly. Besides the thought of seeing a bishounen Jack Skeleton scares me. I love seeing new characters but at times point I'd rather have more information about the mysterious 4-year students.

[Referencing this post!]

THE WAY I FELT LIKE I GOT SHOT BY SEBEK'S UM WHEN I READ MY OLD OC'S NAME 🤡 A ZILLION WATTS OF LIGHTNING ARE COURSING THROUGH MY VEINS... . ..... .... ......... . .. . ........ . . . .... .. . . .

I think I first came up with Jinx like 4 years ago??? And the last time I drew him was like... 2 years ago?? BUT WOW, IT'S BEEN SO LONG SINCE I'VE THOUGHT ABOUT MY FAVORITE SPOOKY CHILD 😭 I'm so flattered that you remembered him, Anon!! (For those of you without any context, here's a fan art of him as well as my own design!)

adhbadoyqerqwvypnad I'm excited to see what TWST's interpretation of Jack Skellington might be! (I'm sure Yana and team's design would blow mine out of the water, lol) If they end up introducing a twisted!Oogie though, I might just bring Jinx back just to interact with him 👀

I'm not sure if I'm following what you're saying about the possibility of new characters though...? We may have had only Rollo and Fellow so far, but it seems to me that TWST has found a winning formula and an excuse to pump out a new limited SSR card every Halloween meaning more money for them. I don't get why they would backtrack now and do a whole event themed around a Disney property but NOT introduce a new character they can make bank on come next year. The first two Halloween events weren't themed, so it makes sense that no new character was introduced. Because this upcoming one is so blatantly going to be Nightmare Before Christmas-themed, I think it's all but guaranteed that we'll see a new face. adugkvqwodivqdi I JUST WONDER... WILL THE THIRST FOR THE NEW CHARACTER EXCEED THE THIRST OF FELLOWIVES??? Especially considering that the regular Jack Skellington is already a Tumblr sexyman????? Only time will tell...

I understand the anticipation for fourth year student lore, but I don't know that a Halloween event of all things would be good timing to make them relevant? So far, we only know that they temporarily return to campus for cultural fairs, in which NRC demonstrates the fruits of its labor to the general public. The fourth years would probably be better reserved for another kind of event or even later in the main story.

[jealousmartini]

hi! i saw ur post where u mention age change with loa and could u talk more about that? cause i just turned 20, but i wanna be 17 again just so i can experience teenage things (i had depression and extreme social anxiety my whole teenagehood). i wanna feel young and do things right, apply everything i know now to this time in my life cause i can't help but feeling so old speacially since i have zero "firsts", like i'm 20 and no first crush or first kiss (ik it's not the end of the world, but i want back the expirences i was stolen from). i don't wanna over-explain myself nor trauma dump on u, but basically i just wanna start over yk? i know nothing is impossible to loa, truly know, but this one wish makss me insecure cause that will mean i was born in 2007 instead of 2004 and my old classmates werent really my classmates which is okay cause i never liked them but instead i had different ones that i don't know? i don't know if i'm making sense here, sorry to be asking u these things but ur the only person i've seen talking about age change so i'll be very thankful to anything u have to say to me. hope u have a good day :)

This ask unironically made me frown, like so hard, knowing that manifesters like you have to ask if starting over is okay because of the heavy misrepresentation and misunderstanding of manifesters and shifters who age change.

My love, OF COURSE you can. I cannot believe we have come to the point, on the interent as a whole, that people feel that they need to ask permission on what to do with THEIR LIVES, because the all high and mighty LOA police feel like they have the right to dictate what others should and shouldn't do with their lives.

And God forbid you don't obey them because then they'll throw every derogatory name, they'll diagnose you with every mental illness they want to insult you with (that they don't even understand), they'll assume that utmost worst about you, and take to their side of the community to shame you infront of them all. It's genuinely appalling.

Which is why I finally reminded myself a couple years ago that these people are not my mum. I have free will to do what I want with MY LIFE and whatever they say are nothing more than opinions that I can literally choose to listen to or to ignore. I refuse to fall into the trap of giving power, MY power away to outsiders and let them control me because real talk now, what are they actually going to do? At the end of the day they can cry, shout, rip their hair out on camera an tell me how insne I am for not having the same views as them, but none of that's stopping me from sleeping with their mum AND dad in another reality

Long story short, my answer is yes, you can start over and change the year you were born hun. You can do whatever you want because this is your call. Do what YOU want, not whatever the LOA police deems acceptable by their beliefs

[notes-of-nari]

Stray Kids as the Friendly Ghost

I.N •You were intrigued for many years about the mysterious boy who lives in your twin house. You have seen him randomly either in your shared garden or at the doorstep of his side of the house. Even though you had always wanted to strike up a conversation with him you always decided to do it later because you were afraid that you might embarrass yourself by going there and stuttering (cause you knew pretty well that you were most probably having a crush on him)

•Speaking about crush, it all comes crashing down when you tell a friend of yours about him and she goes on to reveal that the other side of your twin house is actually empty?? You don't believe it until a little call to the person who sold you the side of your house reveals that the other side is indeed empty.

•however when you walk back home you find him sitting on the swing in your shared garden his eyes closed as he silently seems to sing along to a song that plays from his headphones.

•You trip on a stone and nearly fall. He opens an eye and looks at you and notices you look at him. His eyes widen in surprise as his palm flies towards his mouth. he then runs towards his side of the house.

•Your mind is completely in turmoil as you wonder who this mysterious person is. After a sleepless night, you decide to find out the truth for yourself. So you march up to his side of the house and loudly knock on the door. You earn a few suspicious glances from your neighbours but no one answers the door. •You wonder if studying too much has made you go crazy and see things. But this guy was your crush! Is his presence also like your non existent love life?

•However your efforts are fruitful. One day as you stand at his doorstep ready to knock on his door,he opens the door right at that moment. "oh hii" you greet him and his eyes widen again before he shuts the door right in your face. "rude.." you mutter before he opens the door again and looks at you in disbelief. "you can see me?" he asks. "yeah" you shrug. "no wayyy...no.." •you notice a few tears falling down his eyes as he suddenly hugs you. He seems to be shaking as he sobs. You are frozen unable to understand what's happening but you pat his back hoping he would calm down. • "No freaking wayyyy" It is now your time to express your disbelief as he reveals that he is a ghost? He introduces himself as Jeongin. • You are soon able to accept that he is indeed a ghost. (rip your non existent love life/and crush) • Even though you both were awkward at first after some time you both become good friends. However a few days later you wake up to find seven ghosts glaring at you. "If you hurt him we will kill you" One of them threatens while holding a knife at your direction. "No minho is just joking. we won't kill you but please take care of Jeongin yeah?.." the ghost with an Australian accent says before he pulls his friend away and the seven of them disappear.

•"Jeongin the ghost" as you now fondly call him ,drags you on his random late night walks as he explores various parts of your little town. •Judges your fashion taste like Anton ego judges food. What kind of garbage are you wearing in this household? This is uhh a hoodie.. skirt and trousers.". Shakes his head in disappointment while mumbling something that sounds like "looks like a Disney series came to life"

•you wake up one day with a whole fashion critic report on your bedside table. you only have three black hoodies,two jeans,one skirt,and 2 black tee shirts? Let's go shopping bitch.

•Every messy person like you who has a gold fish memory deserves a friend like him. "Did you see my note book?" "You left it on the chair" "Did I visit the doctor last month" "yes you did..you even brought a guide to crocheting on the way back here" " oh shit I forgot that I brought such a book" "jeongin did you take my chocolate chip tart?" "You ate it last Sunday remember?" •Helps you pack your clothes for your three day college trip.But he literally overpacks amidst your protests. "come on jeongin it's just a three day educational trip. I don't need 5 t shirts" He is not pleased about the fact that you removed all the extra clothes he had packed for you. So later that night when you are asleep he adds all those clothes back into your suitcase. Fast forward- 1st day of the trip night, you open your suitcase to find a whole ton of clothes. "YANG JEONGIN!!!!!" ------The ghost who is chilling back at home suddenly sneezes. "I guess she is thanking me for adding the extra clothes" He smiles and shrugs. •If you need someone's true and honest opinion on anything he is the number one choice. No sugar coating just the honest hard truth. •When you ask him if he can help you with your college assignments, "do i look like someone who survived past the 1st year of college?" he deadpans before disappearing. • He gifts you with a pair of shoes and a cake on your birthday. You are so happy and grateful so you try to hug him. But he runs away out of your reach. "come on dude let me hug you once.." "no" he runs around the house ( he doesn't disappear like usual though?) "you hugged me first" you remind him of the day he hugged you after he realized that you could see him. "that was a one time thing" he shouts as he leaps away from your reach. BangChan / Lee Know/Changbin/Hyunjin/Han/Felix/Seungmin

[darklinaforever]

First picture :

Second picture :

The first person is aware that Lydia could remove the files from her mouth at any time? Literally, she takes them off on her own to talk when she gets tired of them! Beetlejuice is a very powerful fucking demon, if he wanted to completely silence Lydia he could and would have done so. However, he didn't do it. I'm tired of seeing people make this situation worse when in reality it's not as restrictive as it seems.

Same with the baby's delusion, which yes, is admittedly very disturbing at first and the only real reprehensible thing that Beetlejuice does to Lydia in this film in my opinion (because with the song that is played at their wedding ceremony and the how easily he lets Lydia send him away (I'm sure he wasn't really planning on marrying her this time). But then again, he didn't actually get Lydia pregnant ! And she didn't really give birth to his demonic child either ! And she seems to get over that weird, disgusting prank made by Beetlejuice pretty quickly.

Also, I don't know why but I never had the impression that Beetlejuice had traumatized Lydia in the first film as an attempt to affirm these people, particularly the second.

Literally, she doesn't seem to have any after-effects in the first film, and the sequel proves it even more. At what point in her scenes with Beetlejuice himself does Lydia seem to be truly afraid of him or particularly traumatized by him ? And I'm talking about the scenes where she is with him in the flesh. Because the moments when she thinks she's hallucinating his presence, it's logical that she panics. But no, she never seems terrified of Beetlejuice himself.

Not even at the famous wedding, contrary to what the second person says. This is bullshit.

The scenes where Beetlejuice makes declarations to Lydia like the serenade or the marriage, she doesn't seem disgusted (except when he throws his heart in her hands and that's somewhat normal) or terrified, or both.

She just has a face that generally says : Wtf ? Because the situation is WTF ! This wedding scene is not at all portrayed as creepy in the first place !

Frankly, it's bad form to say the opposite for me ! It’s deliberately turning a blind eye. Beetlejuice is a horror comedy, these scenes are above all funny with touches of bizarre and gothic !

The actors love their characters together, including Winona who totally ships them. To say that she played her character as being terrified of Beetlejuice is bullshit.

And even if his acting was out of step with the script, that's not the case. Because once again, Lydia is not traumatized by Beetlejuice even through writing.

Aside from the fact that Lydia doesn't want to say Beetlejuice's name to avoid screwing up her life again (and we understand), there is nothing that indicates a real fear of Beetlejuice, the individual, in her !

And no, Lydia does not have any trauma that caused her to hallucinate the Beetlejuice presence. We know it, we see it, Beetlejuice does this on his own, so when Lydia sees him it's real. These are not hallucinations resulting from trauma at all !

Yes, Beetlejuice is problematic, obviously he's a demon ! Yes, Beetlebabes also has problematic aspects, obviously since once again Beetlejuice is a demon !

(That's literally the whole appeal of this ship between these two... Nobody likes Beetlebabes because it's a healthy relationship !)

But I'm tired of people trying to make it worse than it is.

In this sequel, Beetlejuice literally saved Astrid, Lydia's daughter, and he also saved her from marrying a complete asshole !

Not only that, but the way he pursues Lydia, or courts her if you prefer, isn't really cringeworthy.

He helps her save her daughter. Saves her from a bad marriage. He plays the serenade. Gives her a hand kiss. Is ready to accept Astrid as his child. Offers her his beating heart (yuck), etc. Frankly, it's a good overall approach for me !

And even if it's frankly not cool to haunt her in recent years, the film suggests to us that it's really due to a connection between the two characters. So that balances it out a bit.

Frankly, the antis greatly exaggerate the issues of ship Beetlebabes and the character of Beetlejuice.

It's like those who say he's a pedophile, when he only seeks to marry Lydia for convenience in the first film, not because he has feelings for her. Plus people seem to forget that Beetlejuice comes from an era where girls generally married at the age Lydia was in the first film...

But hey. Really thinking about these is a bit hard obviously for the antis.

And I'm not even going to bother talking about those (like this second person) who think Beetlejuice having a picture of Lydia from the first movie on his desk is creepy...