#you have no idea what you're fucking talking about

[ktownshizzle]

Love & Lullabies | Part 1 of 2

Pairing: Min Yoongi x female Reader

Summary: What begins as a simple favor for your best friend Namjoon soon pulls you into the rhythms of Yoongi’s life—afternoons spent caring for his son, late nights filled with candid conversations, and a connection neither of you thought you needed. You’re just fresh out of a long-term relationship with an ex who didn’t want a family with you, so did you really just stumble into a life you’ve always dreamed of? (Thank god Namjoon isn’t the only one who’s clumsy.)

Alternatively: It’s 2025 and BTS is prepping for their comeback. All members seem to have gained muscle weight from their time at camp. But Min Yoongi has gained a different kind of weight—an 8-pound baby and a fuck-load of responsibility. (Thank god you’re there to help him.)

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, idol!au, Acquaintances to Lovers, Reader is Namjoon’s bestie

Warnings: Yoongi is a DILF (!!!) That’s it.

Chapter warnings: A lot of mood and scene setting—just vibe with it, MC is in her sad girl era, hints of depression and anxiety, masturbation, Yoongi is a new dad y’all he is tireddd af

Word count: almost 6k

Posting date: November 12, 2024

Notes: This is inspired by an ask/prompt sent by @yoongznme. Enjoy, my lovelies~ 💕🫶🏼

Part One | Part Two | Masterlist

Namjoon leans back in his seat, sporting an all-too-familiar, slightly conspiratorial glint in his eyes. Hmm. You know that look. 

It's the same one he had when he "casually" set you up to tutor one of his trainee friends in English—the one you let slip was kinda cute. Or when he signed you up to perform with one of his rapper friends in that underground club in Hongdae. Sure, you knew every word of the chorus to eminem’s Stan, but you were not a fucking singer. 

You still did it, though. Both times. 

Namjoon’s especially notorious for volunteering you to do things he insists are "right up your alley." There’s a fire in his eyes when he starts talking about one of his ideas, and before you know it, you're swept up in his vision, already picturing yourself right there beside him, doing something you’d never consider on your own.

Namjoon has been your best friend since forever and for reasons you can’t explain, saying no to him has always been impossible.

Right. It’s definitely that. It’s definitely not because in those two prior instances mentioned, both friends of his are actually the same guy. The one you had an almost crippling crush on over a decade ago. (You’re sooo over it, though. Trust.)

When Namjoon leaned in, you were already bracing yourself.

“So, you know Yoongi, right?”

You blink, pause, and slowly shake your head. It has taken years, but today is the day you tell him, “No.”

“The fuck? What do you mean no?” He replies, already looking hella amused. “I haven’t even said anything.”

Your face feels like a furnace, but you grit and steady your voice. “Whatever it is, the answer is no.”

He lets out a hum, shifting in his seat, and you get the sense he’s working up to something. 

You sip your coffee, keeping your eyes on him. He gives you an exaggerated shrug, dimples deepening as he lets his shoulder sag. 

God you’re literally already about to break. 

“Fuck. Joon. Spit it out.”

He nods triumphantly, “Ok, there’s something I thought I’d run by you first, before he hears about it.”

The words hang in the air, and you raise an eyebrow. “Joon. What are you getting me into?”

Namjoon chuckles softly as he folds his hands on the table. “So… Yoongi has a son. A baby, actually.” He pauses, watching for your reaction. 

Woah. Someone has fuckboi Min Yoongi all locked down?! Huh. You never saw that coming.

You let that sink in, surprise filling the quiet space between you. “I… didn’t know he had a kid.”

“Not many people do,” Namjoon admits. “Only those close to him know. Yoongi’s a great dad, but his caretaker recently left, and now he’s scrambling to balance his schedule and take care of his son.”

“And his wife?”

Namjoon sighs, gives you a look that means he’s about to say something confidential. “There’s no wife.”

“Baby mama?”

“Out of the picture.”

You let out a small breath, absorbing everything you just heard. You already had an idea of where this is leading up to, but you want it said explicitly. “So what exactly are you asking me?”

Namjoon nods, eyes hopeful. “Look, I know this is a big ask. I’m putting this out there because you’re one of the best with kids I know. And Yoongi—well, he’s pretty wary about letting new people get close to his son.”

You take another sip of your latte as he prattles on.

“While you’re still getting your bearings back, maybe you could take over the caretaker job, even part time?” Namjoon scratches the back of his neck, grinning sheepishly as he says your name. “I just thought you might consider it. You’d be doing us both a favor. Yoongi really needs help, and I’d trust you more than anyone with this.”

You sit back, letting Namjoon’s words settle. Namjoon knows exactly what he’s asking—knows exactly how hard it is for you to refuse when he gives you that puppy dog look, especially when he’s throwing Yoongi into the mix. Honestly, you hate how you're apparently still soft for him even after all these years.

Namjoon also knows your current situation. Does he not realize it’s a bit unfair to ask this of you right now? Not when you're still picking up the pieces after your breakup with your long-term boyfriend. Not when you need time to heal. Not when you literally uprooted your life and just moved back to Seoul a month ago.

But somehow, you can’t shake the curiosity. What would it even be like to see Yoongi as a dad? To get a glimpse of this whole other life he’s got now?

It’s probably a terrible idea. 

Yeah, no. You don’t need this right now. Money isn’t tight. And you need to focus on… 

You take a slow breath, mentally tracing the edges of this mess. There are a hundred reasons to say no, and only one reason you’d even consider saying yes. And because it’s for Yoongi… damn, maybe that’s reason enough.

The next time you see Yoongi, it’s at HYBE’s massive rehearsal space. Namjoon had invited you to watch the group practice—innocent enough, though you know it’s also his way of nudging you toward the job. Joon thinks he’s subtle, but you know his plans are, more often than not, clunky as hell.

You settle in one corner, holding on to your half-finished iced Americano. A few staff are scattered around the studio, there was another girl (maybe a member’s girlfriend, you’re not sure), but it’s mostly empty. The boys are warming up, stretching or chatting, and you wave to Jungkook and Taehyung before finding yourself glancing toward Yoongi.

Wearing an all black outfit and a baseball cap, he’s standing off to the side, arms full with a fussy baby, and a bassinet stroller in front of him. The boy can’t be more than a few months shy of his first birthday. He’s close to tears, twisting and squirming, while Yoongi, visibly flustered, tries to hand him a toy, then a bottle, then anything he can find. Nothing works. Soon, the baby’s fuss turns into a full-on tantrum.

Oh, damn. Poor Yoongi. 

He drops the bottle, spilling milk across the floor just as the stroller, half-locked, rolls a few feet away. He lunges for it, fumbling as the baby’s wailing intensifies, tiny fists flailing in frustration. Yoongi’s eyes dart around, panicked, while a couple of female staff start toward him, hands outstretched. But he waves them off, his face set in a mix of fierce determination and mild desperation as he rocks and hushes the baby.

It honestly hurts to watch the scene unfold. You almost want to do something.

Namjoon starts clearing people out, Jimin dims the studio lights, and Seokjin picks up the spilled bottle, wiping down the floor. Hobi taps a white noise track on his phone, placing it near the stroller. Your heart warms at how effortlessly everyone pitches in, their movements so practiced it’s obvious they’ve done this before. But it makes you wonder just how many rehearsals have paused for these moments. It’s probably why Namjoon wants to help find a solution, a.k.a you.

You meet your best friend’s gaze and he cocks his head toward the door, signaling for you to file out with the others, but your feet take you somewhere else entirely.

“Is he okay?” you ask, approaching Yoongi.

Yoongi doesn’t hear you at first, too focused on calming his son. His face is etched with exhaustion and something fragile, an uncharacteristic crack in his calm. He finally glances up, half-exasperated. To your mild relief, a look of recognition crosses his face, before he replies, “Yeah, he’s—he’s usually not this fussy.”

You watch him struggle for a bit, then, before you can second-guess, you step forward. “Do you mind if I try?”

Yoongi hesitates, studying you like he’s weighing the decision to trust you with his son. His eyes flick towards Namjoon who was standing by the door, before it goes back to you. After a tense pause, he nods, handing the baby over.

You hold the little boy, shifting him gently away from the mirrors and bright lights, rocking him slowly and humming an old lullaby you used to sing for your preschoolers. Gradually, his cries quiet down, his tiny head resting against your shoulder as he begins to relax, fingers curling around the fabric of your shirt. Within minutes, he’s fast asleep.

When you glance up, Yoongi is watching, his face unreadable. There’s relief, yes, but also a quiet wonder, an almost surprised gratitude. 

“I owe you,” he murmurs, a softness in his voice you hadn’t expected.

“‘S ok,” you say, quietly, careful not to wake the baby.

The two of you stand there, his eyes on you for just a beat too long, and if you didn’t have the baby to ground you, you feel like you just might float.

“Thank you,” he says, tone soft and sincere.

From across the room, Namjoon watches, his eyes mirroring the same gratitude.

The call from Yoongi comes unexpectedly one evening, just after dinner. You don’t recognize the number, then again you don’t have a lot of +82s yet since you just moved back after many years of being in the States. The last thing you expect is to hear Yoongi’s voice on the other end of the line.

“Hey, it’s…Min Yoongi,” he starts, voice a little rough.

“Oh, hi.”

There’s a short silence, and then he clears his throat. “Namjoonie mentioned you uh might… be interested in helping with my son.”

You feel a strange flutter, both at the fact that Yoongi is talking to you, and at the fact that he’s asking something so personal. “Uh, yeah. I can help out.”

The pause is long enough that you imagine him somewhere, shifting uncomfortably. “I know it’s a lot to ask,” he finally says, sounding almost apologetic. “I don’t want to… impose or anything. But it would help. A lot.”

“Okay.”

“Thank you,” You hear Yoongi release a sigh of relief. Then he says the next phrase in a rush, “I know you are overqualified for this, so uh please let me compensate you with your salary as a teacher in America.”

You feel your face flush. Thank god this was not a video call. Seems you’re as uncomfortable as he is talking about money, though it is a necessary evil. “Oh, no, please Yoongi. You don’t have to. Joonie’s my bestfriend and you’re his brother. I can just help until you can find a more permanent solution.”

Thankfully, he doesn’t argue with you on this. You hear a puff of breath before he says. “Alright. Thank you.”

And just like that, you’re set. He gives you the address, and you’re left wondering for the rest of the night how you’ll manage this strange new gig.

The first day you arrive at Yoongi’s apartment in Hannam-dong, you’re a bundle of nerves, unsure what to expect. 

After you ring the bell, the door opens to reveal Yoongi with his usual reserved expression, a piece of muslin cloth draped on one shoulder.

“Hi,” he says simply, stepping aside to let you in.

You offer him a smile. “Hey.”

He closes the door behind you as you step inside. You look around, taking everything in.

The apartment is spacious but cozy, with a warmth that speaks of careful design—minimalistic furniture in muted colors, shelves lined with books and vinyl records, a few baby toys strewn around the living room. Homey.

This is the first time you get to really see Yoongi. The brief encounter at the rehearsal studio didn’t afford you the chance to appreciate how time has treated him. 

Seeing him after six years, he’s both the same and somehow different. He has always had that calm confidence—a steady, grounded energy that feels both nostalgic and new. His usually colorful hair, now in its natural hue, casually frames his face. He wears a simple white tee and you can tell the noodle arms are gone. His shoulders are much broader, arms stronger than how you remember him. The silver earrings are still there, subtle reminders of his edginess, softened by time.

But beneath it all, there’s a layer of, hmm… exhaustion, you guess? A shadow under his eyes, faint lines hinting at the weight of sleepless nights. His lips are chapped, there’s a tiny red bump on his chin. He’s a new dad, he hasn’t prioritized himself for a while. Still, his face carries a tenderness in the fatigue, like he’s tired, but happy.

“He’s napping right now,” Yoongi clears his throat, motioning toward a small crib by the window, where his son is sleeping peacefully, bundled in soft blankets. 

“You haven’t told me his name.”

“Haneul.”

“That’s beautiful,” you reply, and Yoongi nods, almost shy.

He hesitates, glancing down as if gathering his thoughts. Then he says your name. “I… um, I didn’t know how this would go. His last caretaker was actually my aunt, but she got sick and had to go back home.”

“I’m really sorry to hear that.”

He nods, “But after seeing how he calmed down with you… I think he’ll be alright.”

He gives you a tour of his apartment, the baby monitor clipped in his jean pocket. His place is modern, spacious, baby-proofed. There are pictures that line the walls of the hallway linking the nursery, his studio, guest room, guest bath, and the masters.

You spend some time going through Haneul’s things—familiarizing yourself with the layout of the nursery. He shows you where the baby food and snacks are. Talks about his favorite toys and activities. 

While he downloads the 101 on Haneul, the one thing you were curious to know was, where is his birth mom? You obviously don’t want to be a prick so you swallow the question down. Maybe you’ll find out in the future. But for now, you just need to know where the baby wipes are.

For the first few days that you come over, Yoongi keeps close, hovering just within earshot as you ease into the cadence of his son’s needs. He’s there with his arms folded, watching as you handle Haneul, a cautious yet respectful distance. You get it though. You’re a virtual stranger he just let into his home and his son’s life. Who wouldn’t be guarded?

You quickly notice that Haneul has a sweet temperament, but has a bit of a sensitive side. He doesn’t take to loud sounds, so you keep your voice low and movements gentle, singing him lullabies and nursery rhymes under your breath while Yoongi quietly observes, even if he pretends to be engrossed with something else.

On your third day, Yoongi has to leave to attend an important meeting at HYBE. He’s been pacing by the door, making sure his son is settled before he goes, even though you’re right there, holding the baby with practiced ease.

“Are you sure you’re… good with this?” he asks, his brow furrowed, as if still convincing himself to leave.

You give him a reassuring smile. “Go. I got him. He’ll be fine.”

He hesitates one last time, eyes fixed on you, and then he finally gives a small nod. “Okay. I’ll be back soon.”

As soon as the door closes, you’re left with the quiet hum of the apartment and a very awake, very curious baby in your arms. You spend the next hour rocking him and singing songs, amazed at how easily he settles, almost as if he’s known you longer than a few days.

After his nap, you take a video of the babbling Haneul enjoying his yogurt gems and send it to Yoongi. He replies almost immediately with a smiley emoji and a curt: cute.

Yoongi returns around dinnertime right as you’ve settled the baby down in his bed. He steps inside the nursery quietly, watching as you tuck the blanket around his son. When you look up, he’s standing there, holding two cups of steaming liquid.

“I, uh… thought you might want some tea,” he says, looking slightly awkward but endearing.

“Always.” You take the mug with a grateful smile. “How was your meeting?”

“Could’ve been an email,” He shrugs and stuffs the empty hand inside his pocket.

You grin as you take a sip, remembering how you’ve always enjoyed his dry sense of humor, in the rare occasions you hung out in the past. Ooh, this tea is… your favorite.

“Silver moon?” you asked.

He nodded, “There’s a TWG shop that just opened near the office. Namjoonie might have mentioned it was your favorite, so.”

Your ears warm up just as well as your throat as you savor another drink.

“How was Haneul? Did he give you a hard time?”

“Not at all,” you shake your head, looking over to the little angel. “I’ve had a lot of practice, you know.”

“I can’t imagine handling a whole classroom full of them,” he says, looking at you with a mix of admiration and amusement. “One’s hard enough.”

“You’re lucky to have him,” you reply wistfully, suddenly feeling a tug at your heartstrings. ‘What I would give…’ you almost utter out loud.

The thing is, you actually do, without realizing it. Unbeknownst to you, Yoongi files the thought away, a subject he might bring up one day—when the time comes that he thinks you trust him, too.

The days blur into a steady rhythm. You arrive in some afternoons, not really everyday, only when Yoongi needs the extra hand at home or if he needs to leave the house for a day of rehearsals. You both establish that this is merely a favor so he doesn’t treat you like you’re at his every beck and call. Usually it starts with a short message in Kakao, and if you’re free, he would send a car to pick you up. Your meals are always ready, delivered on the dot. Conveniences are always within your reach—your favorite tea, extra clothes in case there are food or poop blow-outs, etc. The cleaning lady that goes thrice a week, Mrs. Kwon sometimes keeps you company and assists you with anything.

As you help take care of his baby, you feel that he’s looked out for you, too. Which is nice.

On days that he is working from home, Yoongi brings his work into the living room, just to be nearby during playtime with you and Haneul. 

One evening, when his son falls asleep in your arms after a particularly fussy day, Yoongi glances up from his laptop and leans back in his chair, a tired but grateful smile breaking through.

“He’s really taken to you,” he observes, sounding almost as if he’s admitting it to himself.

You smile, feeling a strange warmth at his words. “I think he’s just a really sweet kid, Yoongi. He’s easy to love.”

The smile he gives you after that is probably the gummiest one you’ve ever seen. 

A few weeks pass, and a subtle partnership has started forming between you, like you’re both slowly finding a rhythm in the chaos of caring for Haneul.

Bath time becomes a kind of unspoken relay: you gather the towel and clothes, while Yoongi preps the tub, testing the water with careful fingers. There’s a brief exchange of glances—no need for words, just a nod as you pass off Haneul, who’s already giggling happily.

Snack time turns into a ritualized watch party. You set out the applesauce and crackers for Haneul, and Yoongi brings a bag of chips and his laptop over to the living room, joining you and Haneul for yet another episode of Miss Rachel. Occasionally, he’ll mutter a sarcastic comment under his breath, trying (and failing) to disguise the fact that he’s memorized the songs, too. (And in English, no less!)

There was one particular afternoon that you walk in on the father and son having a heartwarming exchange.

Haneul, who’s wobbling on his unsteady little legs, is reaching eagerly for a stuffed tiger Yoongi is holding just out of reach.

“Oh, no, no, no—you gotta work for this,” Yoongi teases, eyebrows raised dramatically. He moves the tiger side to side, adding a low, exaggerated growl that makes Haneul squeal with laughter. Yoongi leans fully into the act, growling and making faces, finally swooping Haneul up with a playful roar, both of them dissolving into laughter.

You can’t help but laugh along with them, your heart catching slightly at the sight. The way his eyes crinkle in genuine amusement, his mouth relaxed into a wide gummy grin. And you’re startled by how… soft he looks, how fucking attractive he is when he’s like this. When his usual quiet intensity is replaced by this playfulness, by this open warmth. It hits you somewhere deep, a warm, fuzzy feeling in your chest that you can’t quite ignore.

Yoongi catches you watching, his smile faltering for a moment, but he holds your gaze. His expression shifts, something curious reflecting in his eyes as if he’s wondering what you’re thinking, but he doesn’t ask. Instead, he swallows a lump in his throat, cheeks dusting a faint pink as he looks down, bashful.

You force yourself to glance away, feeling warmth creep up your neck. For the first time, you’re struck by an awareness of him that wasn’t there before, and it lingers, even as you turn back to whatever it was you were supposed to be doing. The image of his smile, his laughter—it all stays with you, stirring something you can’t quite put a name to.

And just like that, you’re settling into this role in the life of the Min men—something you know is temporary, but is infinitely meaningful.

When you’re not in Yoongi’s apartment, your own place feels strangely foreign.

God, you hate it here. You can’t even bring yourself to call it home—it’s just a room with white walls, half-opened moving boxes, a stack of unread books Joonie gave you, a mattress on the floor, and a fridge with a single egg. It’s quiet. Too quiet. You could fix the place up—it’s not like you can’t afford a bed frame or groceries—but for some reason, you’re punishing yourself. Like this is the way someone like you—unwanted and rejected—ought to live.

Nothing in this flat tethers you to it, and maybe that’s why you prefer being out.

You’re afraid your heart is stuck somewhere in limbo, somewhere between Seoul and LA. Maybe it’s still floating above the clouds on that flight back. You don’t know when it’ll come down, but you hope it’s soon.

Tonight, you’re restless, tossing and turning in your makeshift bed, replaying fragments of your old life—a love that once felt solid, a future that had once felt certain. Your mind drifts to those last conversations with Jiyong, your ex, the ones where he shut down every hope you had for a family, making you wonder if wanting more was somehow wrong.

You probably deserve it, though. You want a family, but you can barely cook for yourself. What do you hope to feed a child—takeout? Junk food? It’s laughable. You can’t even make a home feel like one. Jiyong probably got tired of you because you’re useless at it.

Stop. You close your eyes, focus on your breathing, try to still your mind. 1, 2, 3…

Some nights, you especially hate yourself. Tonight is one of them.

You need to call Namjoon. He can usually talk you down, ease the self-loathing. You ring him three times, but each time, you get his voicemail. Fuck. Maybe he’s out, maybe he’s getting laid. Good for him, honestly.

But that might actually work. You rummage through one of your boxes and find the one purple bullet that’s gotten you through plenty of spirals. With a flick, the vibrator buzzes to life, and you slip it beneath your panties, pressing it right against your clit. You’re not in the mood to drag this out—you want release, quick and easy, something to take the edge off.

At first, your limbs relax as that familiar tingle begins, little sparks shooting from your core, teasing you with hints of pleasure. You keep at it, determined, but after a few minutes, the sensations stall. It’s like your body’s stuck, lingering on the edge without tipping over, leaving you stranded and more frustrated than when you started. You decide to cut your losses.

Maybe a shower. Maybe you can pop by the GS25 down the block for a bottle of soju.

But then your phone pings. It’s Yoongi.

Your tummy suddenly feels funny.

You immediately swipe up and read the string of messages that has popped on your Kakao.

Yoongi: Hey so I found this in Haneul’s crib Yoongi: image.jpg  Yoongi: u got this for him? he is lowkey obsessed. Yoongi: But WTF is it? 

You cackle. Loud and hearty. A sound you didn’t think you were capable of on a shitty night like this.

You: A capybara! Look it up! Yoongi: Oh Yoongi: never heard of it You: They’re cute Yoongi: ? You: Don't be mean You: Haneul and I love bora Yoongi: ?? You: thats her name Yoongi: noted

That night, the Kakao thread becomes your lifeline. Yoongi asks about your next visit, what you had for dinner, and when you say goodnight he sends back a grainy selca of him and a sleeping Haneul with Bora. The photo brings unexpected joy, something to remind you that you aren’t as alone as it sometimes feels. Finally, you succumb to slumber, clutching your phone to your chest, thoughts of Yoongi and Haneul floating in your dreams.

After that, you become more and more aware that Yoongi’s place has become a sanctuary. There’s Haneul’s bright laughter, the way his tiny fingers curl around yours, and the sound of Yoongi’s soft, steady voice, creating a background that somehow starts to feel comforting. With them, you’re too busy to dwell on the past or the ache left behind by someone else’s rejection. Instead, you’re present, stable.

And it’s in those moments—when you’re reading Haneul a story or soothing him to sleep—that you feel a glimmer of something you’d thought you’d lost: hope. The simple act of holding him, soothing him through his small struggles… It’s healing in a way you can’t quite put into words, as if this little boy is slowly fusing pieces of your heart you’d almost forgotten were broken.

And Yoongi—he’s part of it, too. His presence, his quiet strength, the way he’s trusted you with something so precious. 

You know this is just a phase, that this isn’t your life, but a part of you can’t help but imagine what it would be like if it were. To be here, day after day, with this little family that’s somehow found its way into your heart.

You’re still healing, still putting yourself back together, but this—this feels like the start of something you could believe in again.

What you couldn’t believe though was the email from your building administrator with an acknowledgment receipt for next quarter’s rent payment—all settled. You haven’t made the deposit yet, how come it’s saying it’s been paid for already?

You pace your room staring at the email from your phone as if it holds all the answers. 

What is happening? Who paid for this? You didn’t sign up for some sugar baby service… 

Wait. Something clicks in your brain. Suga. Baby.

Your first instinct is to call Namjoon, meddler extrordinaire. He picks up on the second ring, sounding annoyingly chipper.

“‘Sup, buttercup?” he asks.

“Don’t act cute, Joonie,” you warn. “Did you know about this?”

There’s a pause. “About what, exactly?”

“Yoongi,” you say, practically hissing his name. “He paid my rent, didn’t he? Three months’ worth. How did he even know where I live?”

Namjoon lets out a hum, his tone maddeningly calm. “Ah. That.”

“Yes. That. Care to explain?”

“Look,” Namjoon says, unbothered. “Yoongi asked, so I gave him your address. He said you refused his offer, but still he wanted to pay you back somehow.”

“But Joon! It’s too much—” You pause, scrambling for the right words. “How did he even get a hold of the landlord and settle all this without my knowledge?”

Namjoon chuckles, which only makes you more annoyed. “Yoongi hyung is an influential guy, you know. If he wants something, he’ll fuckin’ find a way. Just take it, okay? You’re helping him, he’s helping you. It’s fair.”

You huff, still not convinced. “It’s just… a lot, Joon. I don’t need anyone swooping in and paying my bills. And you could’ve at least warned me.”

“I get it. But you’re helping him with something really important. This is his way of saying thank you.”

You sink back into your chair, the irritation draining out of you. “Fine,” you mutter. “But if he pulls something like this again, I’m coming for your ass.”

Namjoon laughs. “Aishh. Why the hell is it my fault?”

“You’re a smart man. Figure it out.” You hang up.

You spend that afternoon at Yoongi's. He was in a rush, dashing out for some shoot as you arrive. You hear him return around seven, just as you're finishing putting Haneul to sleep. Once the baby is settled, you tiptoe out of the nursery with the baby monitor on hand, following the sounds of soft clinking and the rich aroma wafting from the kitchen.

“Hey, Yoongi,” you call out, stepping into view. “Haneul’s all tucked in. I was just gonna—”

“Stay for dinner?” Yoongi’s eyes light up, his voice gentle but hopeful as he turns, holding a pot in one hand and a wooden spoon in the other. It looks like he came straight from his shoot, his hair still styled in soft, precise waves that swoop perfectly across his cheekbones. He’s wearing the softest, oversized yellow sweater layered over a crisp white shirt, and his jeans hug him just right. But it’s his smile that really draws you in—light radiates from him, his face glowing not just from a bit of skincare, but from something more.

Goddamn. The man is looking fine as hell.

You’d planned to meet up with Namjoon tonight, but one look at Yoongi—whose eyes are too shy to hold yours as he ladles red sauce into a ceramic bowl—and you know you are absolutely staying put. Joon will understand.

“Ok, yeah, that looks really good,” you say.

“It is.” Yoongi smirks, just barely, and gestures to the fridge. “I’ll plate this up if you can grab some drinks?”

You procure a couple of beers from the chiller and set them on the dining table, shooting off a quick text to Joon afterwards.

You: Hey, raincheck? Yoongi made dinner and it looks good ngl

His response is instant.

Namjoon: You blowing me off to play house with hyung. K. I see how it is.

This asshole.

You’re about to call and give him a piece of your mind when Yoongi’s voice pulls you back. “Everything okay?”

Your gaze shifts to the plates of spaghetti he’s just set down, the aroma working wonders to sway your thoughts. “Yeah, just Joon being a pain in my ass as usual.”

“Sit.” Yoongi gestures to your chair as he settles into his.

“Wait.” You grab the baby monitor from the kitchen counter, setting it between you and Yoongi. The screen shows Haneul fast asleep, Bora tucked securely under his arm.

“There. Now we can eat.”

Yoongi nods, and the two of you dig in.

It hits you that this is actually the first time the two of you have shared a quiet dinner together like this. You were expecting Yoongi to let the silence linger, but he starts a conversation mid-way.

“I, uh, was surprised to see you back here,” he says casually, twirling a forkful of pasta.

“Me too. It was… kind of abrupt.”

He nods, not pressing, just listening. You don’t think you’re ready to talk about that so you try a joke.

“Didn’t think you’d ever see the girl who carried your performance of Stan?” you add, smirking. “I basically launched your career.”

“Carried?” He raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Nah, you were choking.”

“Hell no.”

“Uh-huh.” He laughs softly, shoulders bobbing. “Rewriting history….”

“Fine. I sucked. Joon totally went behind my back with that one. Not that he’s the only one who likes going behind my back,” you add pointedly, of course alluding to the matter of your paid-off rent.

Yoongi scratches the back of his neck, looking almost guilty. “Sorry for overstepping.”

“Just don’t start paying my utilities behind my back, too. Because—”

He shifts awkwardly, avoiding your gaze.

“Yoongi?”

He clears his throat. “Just your electricity. I… may have asked the landlord to include it this month.”

“Oh my god.”

“And water,” he adds quickly, eyes widening like a kid who just got caught.

“Add my Netflix subscription while you’re at it.”

“Done.”

“NO!!! You’re actually worse than Joonie,” you groan, though a smile quirks at your lips. “But, thank you:”

He nods, briefly pausing before he speaks up again, a little too flippantly. “So… you and Namjoonie—what’s the deal there?”

You blink, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”

He shrugs, looking somewhere over your shoulder. “You know what we all think? That he’s playing some kind of long game with you.”

You wrinkle your nose, laughing. “Oh god, no. Y’all are waayyy off. Namjoon’s like my brother, that’s it.”

Yoongi nods slowly, the smallest hint of a smile on his lips as he watches you.

“Everyone thinks that, huh?” you ask, leaning in, a little bolder than usual.

“Mhmm.” Yoongi gives a slow nod, as he nibbles his lower lip.

“All the members?”

“Yeah,” he says, watching you carefully.

“Including you?”

He shrugs, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips, though something shifts in his expression, like he’s trying to piece together a puzzle he didn’t know existed.

“Interesting,” you murmur, swirling your glass.

“Why?” he narrows his eyes on you, wheels turning in his head.

Maybe it’s the beer loosening you up, bubbles lifting your usual filters. You’ve always been a lightweight.

“You never wondered why Joonie suddenly set you up for English tutoring with me—just you—even though your company had a professional hired to teach everyone?”

He blinks, eyes narrowing a bit more.

“Or why I ended up singing with you at that damn club?” You laugh, leaning back.

His lips mold into a small pout, processing, but you’re already laughing.

“Joonie’s been throwing me into your orbit, Yoongi,” you say, giggling, the alcohol hitting you hard now. “And you’re telling me you never noticed?”

He looks like he’s having a full conversation with himself, his mouth opening and closing like a stunned goldfish inside a gallon bottle. All he manages is an eloquent: “shit.”

“Well, for the record,” you pause, “I thought you were cute, but it was obvious you weren’t interested. Don’t worry, though,” you say lightly, glancing down on your almost empty plate. “I’m a big girl now. It’s all in the past.”

As you stab the last meatball, you miss the way Yoongi’s gaze softens.

You have no way of knowing what’s going through his head. But if you did, you would find that he’s thinking:

If he could go back in time, he’d kick his younger self straight in the balls for not noticing, and tell him to get his head out of his ass long enough to realize this one shocking truth: 

You were not Namjoon’s girl.

And he actually had a chance with you.

Because maybe you’re right. Back then everything was about the dream—y’know, big house, big cars, big rings, and all that shit. So yeah, maybe, he wasn’t ready then.

But that doesn’t mean he isn’t now.

Notes: Oh-KKKAYYY!! How are we feeling? Anything you liked in particular in this chapter? Where is the baby mama? Do we even care atp?!

Part 2 is where things get more flirty, spicy, and all that good stuff.

Tell me your thoughts and theories. See you in the comments! <333

Thank you for reading, you lovely, beautiful, human 💕🫶🏼

Taglist:

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@direnediane @glossdebut @maryhopemei @theresstardustinmyblood @mggv97

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@eurydiceofterabithia

Sorry if I'm unable to tag you. Did my best to include everyone who commented and asked!

[impactrueno]

Beetlejuice clearly wasn't interested in Lydia when they met, so when do you think he actually fell for her? Was he so impressed by Lydia defeating him that he developed a little crush?

i think this might be the biggest thing i've been turning around in my head since the sequel dropped. how did bro get to this point. i need to know. you weren't like this where we left off, what happened during that huge time gap????

this is where canon ends and conjecture begins, you just have to theorize and fill in the gaps yourself with whatever makes the most sense to you, which is what i've been trying to do this whole time. so please bear with me here.

i don't know how much i want share or save for my comics because i don't know how much he would actually reveal about this but whatever we ball

edit: ok so i scrolled back up to this after finishing writing this and as it turns out i have no self control and i ended up sharing everything that crossed my mind. craziest stream of consciousness i've ever written down. strap on and keep your limbs inside the ride at all times. whatever. we BALL.

let's review their first encounter from his point of view:

you're hired to scare the deetzes, right? so you do just that. excellently you might add. just when you're about to terrorize their teenage daughter, barbara banishes you and the party is over. what fucking losers right? you get the sense that adam and barbara care about this girl so you make some remark about her and it pisses them off. haha. also whoa where did this place come from? damn adam, who could've guessed he had it in him. you forget about everything else and dance your way to dante's inferno room.

after spending a respectably tasteful evening with those ladies, you're chill now. relaxing under your little sun lamp to work on your tan.

someone walks in looking for adam and barbara. don't they know they're dead?

"are you a ghost too?"

"i'm the ghost with the most, babe."

hold on a sec, who's even—

...well hey. it's the girl.

the girl who can see ghosts, and she's talking to you.

target acquired. this one's your ticket out of this hellhole.

"you look like somebody i can relate to," you tell her. relate how? doesn't matter. you're ensnaring her with your affable demeanor like you always do, make people feel like you're pals with them first and foremost. she seems like a nice girl, so this should be easy. you tell her upfront that you want to get out of there and you need her help to do so.

"i want to get in," she says.

whoa there.

what? she wants to get in? she says that in response to you saying that you wanted out. she really has no idea what it's like on the other side, huh. but shit, that kinda stops you in your tracks a bit. this girl wants to die. this young? that's not right. makes no sense.

"...why?"

she just looks at you and says nothing. jesus. ok maybe it's none of your business so let's back it up. you're losing control of the conversation and you're on a mission here. you figure if she helps you get out, you might as well talk her off that ledge or show her how shitty it is on the other side or somethin'. frankly, you can't afford to care right now. you're not entirely sure why she thinks things would be better on the side you're so desperate to get out of, but alright. doesn't matter, right now you gotta get her to summon you. so you begin your little game of charades.

after she correctly guesses your name and almost says it a third time, she recognizes you as the snake that terrorized her family. god fucking dammit. you're losing her. you're getting impatient. your affable act is over. "nah...i want to talk to barbara," she says and now she's REALLY getting on your nerves because fuck barbara, fuck adam, you're SO CLOSE to getting out and you're not gonna let this go now, go go GO GO SAY IIIIIIITTTTTTT

adam and barbara walk in because of course they do. womp womp

ok well that didn't work, but you're not gonna give up so easily. sooner or later another opportunity will come and soon you will be free.

wait why are they moving the model— where are they taking it—

ooohhhhh. business meeting. get a load of these yuppies, trying to turn winter river into a town-sized Ripley's Believe it or Not. a talking marcel marceau statue? and you thought you were a con man. no wonder the deetz girl wants to die, it's bleak as hell here too. but if you get out...you can fix that. hell, you can fix anything.

these bozos are here to see some ghosts, but the girl says they're not going to show up unless the fleshbags stop making a mockery out of the whole thing and that maybe they can all live happy together in the house. ain't that sweet.

of course no one's taking her seriously. she's a kid, what does she know, right? they'd rather listen to the most obnoxious guy in the room (besides yourself) who has no idea what the fuck he's talking about, but somehow, he's got his hands on the handbook.

the girl panics, then immediately says completely deadpan "wait, what am i even worried about, otho, you can't even change a tire" and you're surprised they didn't hear how hard you cackled at that.

despite all that, they seem to have started a séance with their old wedding clothes. bad news for the maitlands. they're about to be dead-dead. the girl cries for them to stop, and these guys are just sitting there scared shitless. you're hearing everything. you knew a new opportunity would arise, so you wait, because this is the part where people remember how good at your job you are. they always do.

she knows you can help. you're the only one who can help. so here she comes. those wedding clothes give you an idea. plan B is now in motion.

well well well.

look who came crawling back.

she asks for your help, and you're happy to oblige, under one condition of course. after all, you don't do anything for free, and she's the only one who can help you with your problem. how serendipitous.

once again, you lay it on her, straight up. you want out. and a way to do it (thanks adam and barbara for the reminder) is through marriage with a fleshbag. you need to get married. a green card marriage, if you will.

she's immediately disgusted by the idea. you don't take that personally, of course, because it doesn't matter. she's just a kid and it's not a real marriage. she just happens to be unlucky enough to be the only one around who can assist you with this, the poor girl. it's a marriage of convenience—or rather, inconvenience—and you're not planning on sticking around because you will get the hell out of there as soon as you can. so there shouldn't be a problem, right? besides, does she know how many women would kill to be in that position? she gets to brag about it to her friends, what's not to like? it's a totally even deal.

the clock is ticking and the maitlands aren't getting any younger. she agrees to the deal. you win, at last.

she already knows what to do, so you sit there patiently with a shit-eating grin on your face, awaiting the three little B words. gloating.

Beetlejuice........Beetlejuice...........Beetlejuice.

it's showtime.

this is your favorite part. you love a dramatic entrance. you decide to show the deetzes and their greedy friends the circus they so wanted to turn this town into. horrible as you are, you're also pretty damn good at calling out other people's horribleness, and you do love an ironic karmic way of dealing with someone. for example tubby here thinks he can escape, but not before you change his sleek black suit into a tacky white leisure suit. the horror! this is why you're a professional at this.

you effortlessly end the exorcism and the maitlands are saved. a little pruney right now but they'll be fine. everything is taken care of, you have fulfilled your end of the deal like you promised. only one thing left to do.

"shall we?"

there's really no need to make a whole show out of this, but you're a showman first and foremost and as a 𝒥𝓊𝒾𝓁𝓁𝒾𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝒶𝓁𝓊𝓂 you'll be damned if you're not gonna let yourself have a little fun with this. everyone looks terrified. this is why you're a professional at this.

witnesses and reverend in place, you can finally begin the ceremony. you're having fun, yes, but let's try to pick up the pace a bit, okay? the closer you get to your goal, the more impatient you get. the girl isn't finding any of this very funny at all and she protests. the maitlands butt in and are now kind of twisting your arm a bit, but you deal with them harmlessly, until they get on your last nerve so you send adam to the model and barbara to saturn. all of this after you honorably fulfilled your end of the bargain and saved the day. jesus christ, are you the only one with some integrity around here or what.

you forget the stupid ring. shit. you're pretty sure you have it on you somewhere, ever since you chopped up delores into pieces for poisoning you. you kept her ring finger as a trophy and as a reminder to never get married again, and yet here you are, but desperate times call for desperate measures. finally, you find the ring (still on her severed finger) and hastily tell your new bride-to-be that delores meant nothing to you. in case she even cares. she doesn't seem to. not even a chuckle? oh well.

almost done with the ceremony. almost there. you're holding the girl's hand with an iron grip to keep her in place as you're about to put that ring on her finger. "i now pronounce you, man and—"

a tiny car crashes against your foot and it catches on fire. you scream. a fucking sandworm crashes into the room through the ceiling. everyone screams. you scream LOUDER.

you're sent back to the afterlife waiting room.

not your first rodeo with a sandworm, but that doesn't make the experience any less shitty. the real annoying part is being in the waiting room again. this could take ages. you're number 9,998,383,750,000 and they're serving number 3 right now. you trick the guy next to you and steal his ticket (number 4) but he's not too pleased about that, so that didn't work.

a long time sitting here it is, then.

movie ends, credits roll.

for reference, that was 1988. winona ryder was 15 when they were filming in 1987 so while lydia doesn't have a confirmed age, i think we can safely assume that she was the same age as winona at the time.

36 years later, it's 2024. or 34 years later, it's 2022. we don't know the exact year because while bob's in memoriam credits scene says 2024 and all the interviews talk about how 36 years have passed in universe as well, there's this other one tiny detail.

jeremy's death passport says he died on march 11, 1999. jane butterfield says he died "23 years ago," putting the movie in 2022. they did film it in 2022 so the math is mathing correctly there. given that the in memoriam scene was more of a joke and jeremy's passport is a canon prop in the movie, i'd say 2022 is the canon year the movie is set in. (small sidenote; the passport also has the roman numerals DCLXVI which is 666. cute detail i loved it)

in the sequel, beetlejuice says lydia has been ignoring him for 30 years. i always thought that was curious because outside of this claim, they always specify how many years exactly have passed since. he doesn't say 34 or 36, he says 30. and for his degree of obsession (and the fact that he remembers exactly how many times he's watched The Exorcist) i think he would be counting even the days so i think he did really mean 30 years. so this would mean at least 4 years passed between getting sent back to the waiting room and the beginning of his stalking.

AND NOW that we established all that, we are finally getting to the answer to the question, "when and how did this all start?"

so okay, he spent a while in the waiting room. a lot of time to think. probably replaying the events at the deetzes' in his head over and over, how he got here, where he fucked up, what's he gonna do once he gets out. cursing the maitlands for ruining his plan when he was soooo fucking close. wondering what ever happened to lydia deetz.

lydia deetz, the young girl who told him she wanted to die.

...

is she alright?

i don't think he's capable of feeling guilt, but we can probably argue that he's not entirely heartless. what she said about how she wanted to "get in" must've stuck with him from the way he reacted when she dropped that bomb. she never showed up in the waiting room so he knows she didn't follow through with that. still, he used a vulnerable young girl for his own selfish gain. ironically enough, he knows exactly how that feels, because he also got tricked into marriage and got used for someone else's gain. the difference being that he dealt with that shit with an axe.

much much much to think about for mr. juice.

after years of ruminating in that waiting room, he's finally out and back to the regular day to day afterlife. definitely gets chewed out by juno, maybe forced to do community service or labor or what have you, he basically just needs to clean up his act now. this freelancing shit is becoming more trouble than it's worth anyway.

he's still wondering about lydia deetz. should he check in on her? maybe he should, he's too curious now.

at this point, lydia is now about 19-21 and in college. maybe he manages to sneak into the model one time she's back home for the holidays or something. and oh my god would you look at that, what a beautiful young woman she's grown into. she's radiant. she's happy. she's no longer that gloomy suicidal kid he met in the attic. seems like what she said about the deetzes and the maitlands sharing the house did come true after all.

that's nice. very sweet. good to know.

maybe he wonders if she remembers him and tries to get her attention somehow, give her a little scare for old times sake or whatever. for a brief moment it seems like she saw something and her expression changes, but she shrugs it off and continues on chatting with her two sets of parents. no such luck.

oh well. curiosity sated! and beetlejuice goes back home and doesn't return.

until the next time he returns.

and he keeps coming back to check in on her, telling himself he's just making sure that she hasn't killed herself or something. and he's not above admitting that with every year that passes, she keeps getting more beautiful. and to think they almost got married, huh.

he constantly tries to get her to notice him somehow, and sometimes she almost does, but ultimately he never really succeeds beyond making her do a double take. very rarely she does catch a glimpse of him. he's seen her mutter to herself that she's just seeing things and she seems a bit frightened every time this happens, but there's nothing to fear, honey, it's just good ol' beetlejuice. he won't lie, he gets a bit of a rush every time and it makes his dead heart beat faintly. he's gotten this far, he can't just stop now. in his mind, this has become their little private game of cat and mouse, where the mouse ignores the cat. but aren't they cute? he thinks they're cute. this is not creepy at all!

before he realizes, he's already learned everything about her. he knows about richard and even watched their wedding from afar like a loser. he knows she gave birth to a healthy baby girl named astrid. he knows they have a blast on halloween. halloween is lydia's favorite holiday, and his too. sometimes he can't help but see the three of them happy together and think it could've totally been him. even if he and richard are nothing alike (in fact could not be more opposite) and the circumstances of their unholy wedding were nothing short of grim and a farce. but in his mind, he's starting to convince himself otherwise.

maybe it's his jealousy speaking, but lydia doesn't seem to be that happy with richard despite everything. even though richard is like, the perfect guy. then one day his suspicions are proven correct: neither of them knows why it happened, but after having a long and emotional talk (that he watched with a bucket of popcorn) they decide to get a divorce. he pumps his fist, feeling victorious for some reason. sure he's a little sadistic at times, but why is this giving him so much glee?

the divorce is hard on lydia's kid, who was always more attached to her father, but they still spend a lot of time together. sometimes the three of them, since richard and lydia kept things amicable after the divorce. lydia tries to move on and see other people, but each relationship fails before it even starts. mostly because she keeps holding back and so fails to connect with anyone else, but also sometimes because, well, he can't help himself but to scare them away from her from time to time. it's fun. in his mind, he's just being protective of her, as a gentleman should for a lady.

then richard dies. fell into a piranha infested river from the looks of it (he saw him at immigration one day, don't ask what he was doing around there, force of habit after constantly making sure lydia hasn't killed herself yet.) it's devastating for both lydia and astrid, straining their relationship even more for the next few years as they both try to cope with the loss. the shock proves to be too much for lydia, so she goes to a survivors retreat to work through her trauma, both from richard's death and "unresolved feelings."

then lydia, at her most vulnerable, meets rory.

beetlejuice was able to clock him immediately. a textbook manipulative opportunist, he himself knows the tactics very well. swoop in to "help" someone in a vulnerable position, pull the wool over their eyes and begin taking control so you can get what you want out of that person.

he wouldn't admit it, but this really irks beetlejuice. you know when you see someone who reminds you of the worst parts of yourself, so you despise them? yeah. he's been there, and he's also been him.

but rory is somehow even worse than beetlejuice. see, rory is her manager, and boy does he manage to get on his nerves. he takes her phone. he controls what medication she takes. he blames and guilt trips her about every mishap that HE causes, making himself look like her benevolent savior and making her feel like she would be lost without him, confusing her with his psychobabble. on top of all that, he's forcing her to do this hacky show called Ghost House where she "hunts ghosts" or whatever. the houses he's been helping newly-deads with in his day job as a bio-exorcist (now with a fleet of employees,) she's "hunting" those ghosts now. it's so dumb. it never works. beetlejuice doesn't even know what the hell she's doing, she's phoning it in most of the time and she knows she's become a sellout. what happened to that "strange and unusual" girl who stood up for her ghost friends when those suits wanted to profit off of them back in winter river?

he needs to bring that back. he's the only one who can.

in his mind, beetlejuice has already rewritten the events that transpired. in his mind, lydia has been his wife this entire time, it's just, y'know, one of those open long distance relationships and she doesn't always remember him, but that's okay. in his mind, they share a psychic bond that allows her to sense his presence or see him in her dreams from time to time. he's got nothing to be jealous about, because other men can't compare. no one else can match what they have.

sure, part of him knows he's lying to himself a little bit. but he's already clung to this idea; these past 30 years wouldn't make sense otherwise. he's in love with lydia deetz. this isn't insane of him to say at all. and if it is, well, you know what they say, love makes you do batshit crazy things.

it's not that complicated, no matter what they say you'll never meet another me it's not that difficult to get my head around i'll never meet another you

the end

don't trick me into writing a fanfic again

[countessravengrey]

This is an excellent analysis of The Unicorn as a character, and I would like to add some things:

Because of Western and specifically Abrahamic religions, a lot of people have trouble conceptualizing non-personified deities. Think of the Old Gods in Game of Thrones, only you find out the Old Gods are things like wind, and this tree over there. That's the kind of deity we're looking at. She's elemental. She doesn't ask to be prayed to, to be worshipped. It doesn't work like that. She simply is. The most human thing about her is the ability to speak to humans, but it doesn't signify. Humans are as foreign to her as if she were from another dimension.

She's also magic. Not that she's a magical creature. She's not a horse with a horn and magical powers. She is magic. She's is magic in the form of a horse with a horn.

Another thing: she's old. Like, Death in season 5 of Supernatural old. And she's immortal. One of the best lines in the entire movie:

"She will remember your heart when men are fairy tales in books written by rabbits."

Are you 🤌🏽fucking 🤌🏽kidding 🤌🏽me?

Okay, first of all, that line is epic.

Second of all, think of the scope of time this implies. It's something we can't fully conceive of. And she's lived it, will live it.

And she doesn't have a name. In magick, there's this concept that you should never tell someone your true name because then they have power over you. She has no name. Not until she's forcibly turned into a human, that is. (A true violation)

So imagine you're this being, a hurricane leashed into human form, an eldritch creature trapped in the body of a teenage girl...

Thank you??!!

That magician--and let's be clear here; his desire for a thank you isn't about politeness or gratitude; it's about his ego, about being told he's a true magician, about making her admit how powerful he is and how much she, this cosmic being, needs him, a mere mortal--he should consider himself lucky she isn't another kind of magic that could annihilate everything in the vicinity from sheer emotional overload (not to mention, I must say, what would happen when she'd get her period).

Hirsch has no idea what he's talking about.

Thank you, indeed.

Following the author of The Last Unicorn on Facebook is the only thing that makes being on that site worthwhile.

(source)

[starboye]

how i met roommate!vinnie hacker

you and him both needed to find a new place to stay after having to downgrade to a place for affordable for the california prices that were currently rising, meeting him at an open house for a very nice place, there was great space (a little to much if you ask me)

and after talking to each other for some time you both thought wouldn't it be such a great idea to just be roommates and split rent to make it more affordable, although maybe vinnie was in for a little something more with the way he was checking you out but maybe you're just imagining things

when moving in you both set some pretty easy rules, you both cleaned up, whats yours was yours and whats his was his, and if you make a mess clean it up, it was pretty easy going for a couple of months until you started to see a shift in vinnie, he wanted to be around you always, asking you to hang out with him or just talk with him

you didn't find it weird at first since you both lived under the same roof so you might as well get to know each other better, that was until some days you'd come home to hear him jerking off with the door to his room wide open, like he wanted you to find him or he'll wear pants that would show the outline of his meaty cock

very rarely although sometimes even he'd walk past you and slap or grab your ass then play it off as a joke he usually does with friends, that was until one night when he came home drunk out of his mind and started mumbling about how much he wanted to fuck you, how you looked so sexy and he jerked off to the thought of you every night

so was it really wrong you ended up having sex with him, it was just a little one night stand, that then turned into another night... and another... and another but can we really blame you, he's just so hot and that cock is to good to give up

so you both ended up making it a roommates with benefit kind of arrangement but if anyone asks vinnie what you guys are he'll tell them you're dating

[tpwk-formula1]

Paddock Bunny Series - 1

AN - Yay! I'm so happy for the first post to my new series! I hope you like it and if you have any ideas of what you want to see happen in the world of Y/N Brown feel free to message me with your ideas! I have nothing planned for this series and no real end goal so this could be 10 chapters long to 100 chapters long just depends on how much you guys like it!

Happy Birthday to Lando!!

Drivers included:

Lando Norris x Reader

Carlos Sainz x Lando Norris x Reader (not every chapter will have a threesome but it was necessary for the plot!)

TW - Squirting, multiple orgasms, oral (M and F receiving/giving), hickey, back scratches, protected sex, MxM (not all threesomes with have MxM), cum swallowing, cum swapping

WC - 4.1k +

Y/N POV

"Please let me take you home tonight," Lando slurs in my ear for a third time tonight.

"Lando, you're too drunk to sleep with your bosses daughter," I reply back softly making him groan.

"Please, just one night and we never have to talk about it again," Lando says making me laugh and shake my head.

"If you get your maiden win within the first 10 races of the season I'll let you take me home for a night," I reply back making Lando's face light up at the thought.

"Deal!" Lando smile and runs off making me laugh softly and shake my head knowing he would forget about it by morning.

Lando and I have known each other since his rookie season in Formula 1 and have been close friends since than. It was no secret that Lando and I both had some kind of tension between us but neither of us trying anything knowing how much of a grey area it is.

That was back in February before the season had even started and now it's just a few hours after Miami and Lando is texting me the room number to his hotel room.

"478, it't the suite on the left corner"

"I thought you would have forgotten about that night"

"I'd never forget the one chance to finally sleep with you"

I just roll my eyes at the short conversation before gathering my belongings and making my way to the driver who would be taking me back to the hotel all Mclaren employees were staying in.

When I walked through the Miami hotel I quickly make my way up to Lando's room following the directions he had sent me.,

"Hi," Lando says opening the door after I had just knocked.

"Hi," I smile back inviting myself in. I spent the first couple minutes in Lando's hotel just looking at him to nervous to make the first move.

"Do you want this?" Lando asks softly making me look up and nod softly.

"Ya, a deal is a deal," I reply softly making Lando's smile drop slightly before taking a few tentative steps towards me.

"No, that's not how consent works. Do you want to do it?" Lando asks stepping even closer so we were now face to face with each other.

Instead of responding I connect my hands behind his neck and pull him down for a kiss. Once the initial shock wears off Lando melts into the kiss wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me closer into his chest.

"Fuck, Lan," I moan softly when Lando squeezing my ass with his hands.

Lando's lips start trailing from my lips down to my neck where he spends special attention on my neck looking for my sweet spot and once he locates is just under my ear I let out a soft moan making Lando smirk before sinking his teeth down and sucking softly I'm sure leaving a small mark behind.

I feel Lando's arms wrap around my waist tighter before softly mumbling jump. Once I just softly I wrap my arms around his waist and letting him walk us towards the bedroom.

Once we get into the bedroom he lightly drops me down onto the bed before he slowly pulls his shirt from his body before letting it fall to the ground.

Once Lando's upper half was bare he slowly climbed into the bed and over my body letting himself gently sit on my thighs while he stares down at me before slowly pulling my shirt up my torso and helping me sit up softly so he can pull it off completely.

Once he discards the Mclaren team kit on the ground he get his first glimpse of my bare tits.

"Fuck," Lando whispers softly still staring right at my tits before he takes a tit in each hand and gives it a firm squeeze making me moan softly at the feeling.

"Sound so pretty," Lando whispers out more to himself than me but it didn't matter my cheeks reddened at the praise regardless.

"Lan, please," I whine softly trying to grind my hips up making me smirk before pushing my hips back down towards the bed denying me of the little stimulation I was getting.

"Patience, I've waited years for my chance, you can wait another few minutes to feel my tongue," Lando replies back making me whine at his words while trying to clench my thighs together but being stopped by Lando's sturdy body blocking them from closing fully.

"God, you are even more beautiful that I could have dreamed," Lando groans while softly rubbing his fingers up my sides making me whine softly and goosebumps to grow across my skin.

Once Lando had felt like he teased enough he slowly started pulling my black Mclaren issued skirt off before discarding it somewhere on the floor before running a teasing finger over the center of my thong making me suck in a breath at the feeling of his finger light touch running across my overly sensitive clit.

"Fuck, you're already soaked for me," Lando says with a soft smirk before roughly ripping my thong from my body making me gasp out loudly at the sting of the fabric tearing against my skin.

It was clear in the moment that any patience left in Lando has completely ran out and now the starved man in front of me was ready to have his first warm meal in over a year.

When the first flick of Lando's tongue was sent right over my clit I can't help but moan out and arch my back at the feeling.

"Fuck," I moan softly when I feel Lando's tongue flick over my clit again making me whimper.

"SO fucking responsive," Lando groans out before diving back into my soaked pussy.

"Oh Lando," I moan when I feel Lando start sucking my clit into his mouth. My hands were now tangled in Lando's hair gripping and pulling him impossibly closer.

"So sweet," Lando mumbles into my pussy making me whimper at the vibrations being sent straight to my clit.

I knew with how long it had been with the last time I had slept with someone and how good Lando was abusing my clit I knew I wasn't gonna last long.

"Fuck," I scream out softly when I feel two of Lando's long fingers slip into my soaked pussy filling me up and grazing my G-spot was perfect precision.

"I can tell you're already close," Lando says with a smirk spread across his face while he starts finger fucking me making me moan and arch my back off the bed again which has Lando using his hand to push me back into the bed before attaching his mouth to my clit and sucking.

"I'm gonna cum," I announce loudly while gripping tighter into Lando's now messy curls.

No sooner than the words leaving my mouth Lando instantly speeds up the actions with his fingers and sucking even harder on my clit almost instantly throwing me over the edge into a loudly messy orgasm that left me shaking under Lando.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," I chant when I have no time to come down from the overwhelming pleasure because Lando and still fingering me with lighting speed.

"Oh shit," I moan when I feel a second orgasm approaching before the tightly wound band in my tummy snapped throwing me over the edge into a squirting orgasm.

"Fuck," Lando gasps amazed at the pleasure he just had coursing through my body.

"Holy fuck," I gasp when I look down and realize the mess I had caused but with the smug look on Lando's face the mess is the last thing on his mind right now.

Lando slowly climbs out of the bed and quickly takes off his pants and briefs in one go letting his hard length spring free. My eyes are instantly locked on the red angry tip that was already leaking precum.

"I want a taste," I announce timidly while letting my eyes flicker up to lock eyes with Lando where he's staring at me with a smirk spread across his face.

"I'm serious," I say while climbing out of bed and getting on my knees and instantly gripping onto Lando's cock making him hiss at the sensations.

I slowly bring my mouth to the tip of Lando's cock where I lick a strip collecting a bit of the precum from his cock and let the flavors linger on my tongue before I take his tip into my mouth and start sinking down taking more of his cock as I go.

"Fuck," Lando groans letting his hands tangle into my brunette hair.

I can't help but moan at the feeling of Lando's cock fill my mouth more than any man has ever.

Once my nose brushes against the trimmed patch of hair covering Lando's pelvic bone I can't help but look up to find Lando with his head thrown back and his eyes closed. When I slowly start bobbing my head with still looking up at Lando I notice the way his face pinches up at the pleasure before he moans softly and looks down locking eyes with me.

"Fuck, you're a sight to be been," Lando groans using the hands tangled in my hair to bob me up and down his cock faster.

"Fuck, I'm not gonna last long," Lando groans at the admission but it only makes me speed up my action on his cock. I bring my hand up to his balls and start playing with them which has Lando groaning and pushing me all the way down on his cock before he lets out a low groan before cumming deep into my throat making me gag slightly but still swallow what I can.

"Fuck," Lando groans slipping his cock from my lips and rubbing the spit and cum mixture across my mouth marking me with his cum, his way of marking his territory.

"You're so hot. Your swollen little lips covered in my cum," Lando leans down close to my face with a smirk on his face before the heat of the moment got the best of him and he takes my mouth in his tasting his own cum on his lips.

With Lando's lips still locked with mine he slowly picks me up off the ground before he gently places me on the bed near the edge where I feel his still hard cock rub against my clit making me moan.

When Lando pulls away still standing at the edge of the bed I go to whine when I see him grab a condom off the night stand making me raise a brow at him.

"It was the first thing I went out and bought when I won," Lando says with a boyish smile on his face clearly embarrassed to admit how excited he was.

"I appreciate the readiness," I tell him softly while I watch him roll the condom down his length before stepping between my spread thighs again and tearing my clit with his cock before slipping his length into my pussy making me whimper at the feeling.

"Fuck, so damn tight," Lando grits out between clenched teeth making me whimper at that the burning feeling of being stretched out on his cock.

"Slower," I whimper when I feel Lando start rocking his hips into mine which has him stopping his movements giving me a few moments to adjust before I nod and feel Lando slowly pull his cock out an inch or so before thrusting back in making both of us moan at the feeling.

"Oh," I moan softly when I feel Lando's thrusts start to pick up making my nails dig in a bit deeper into his shoulders making him hiss at the feeling.

"Lan, it feels so good," I moan when I feel Lando's thrust turn from fast and shallow to hard and deep making me feel him in a whole new way. I can feel my nails digging into his back, probably leaving marks behind but with the way Lando only speeds up the harder I grip him I don't think he has any complaints.

"Fuck, you feel so good," Lando grunts out clearly getting close to the edge.

"I'm gonna cum," I announce suddenly when I feel Lando's cock drill right into me G-spot over and over again.

"Fuck, cum with me," Lando grunts his hips shuddering a bit before I feel him start to cum into the condom sending me over the edge into another shaking orgasm.

"Fuck," Lando grunts coming down from his orgasm as he slowly slips his cock from my overstimulated pussy making me whimper at the stimulation.

"Fuck, you took me so well," Lando tells me softly helping me sit up before handing me a water bottle and letting me take a few sips before he takes a few sips himself.

"You're not weirded out to drink from the same straw as me," I ask softly making Lando laugh lightly.

"I tasted my cum from your lips, we're past sharing water bottles," Lando says softly making a me laugh with him and nod my head understanding.

For the next 30 minutes Lando and I spent it in the shower while he told me how good I did for him making me blush under the praise.

When we get out of the bathroom and I wince when I catch sight of Lando's back.

"I'm sorry," I say softly while running a light finger over one of the darker scratches.

"I would live the rest of my life with them if it meant I got to fuck you everyday," Lando says while looking at the damage in the mirror with a shrug.

"You want to do it again?" I ask shyly not even thinking about the possibility of doing it again.

"I mean, yeah. It was honestly the best sex I've ever had but if this was a one off for you, I'm more than okay with that," Lando tells me honestly making me smile and nod.

"I'd like to do it again," I tell him softly with a nod making him smile.

It's only a few days later when I get another Facetime from Lando. When I answer I come face to face with a smirking Carlos and a sheepish looking Lando staring back at me. Both boys where clearly shirtless on a yacht but from the looks of it they were still docked.

"You attacked my boy?" Carlos asks with a smirk falling from his lips making me jaw drop slightly at a total loss for words.

"I have no idea what you're on about Sainz," I respond back with a blush creeping up onto my cheeks.

"No? This should remind you," Carlos says while flipping the camera and showing me Lando's back that was still scattered with a few lingering marks.

"Okay, so Lando and I had a bit of fun. What about it?" I ask trying to be nonchalant. It had never been a secret that when Carlos joined Mclaren with Lando I had a crush on him so having a conversation like this year later it a bit bone rattling.

"I just wish I had gotten an invite," Carlos says while flipping the camera back to face a red faced Lando and a smug looking Carlos. I know my cheeks are as red as Lando's if not redder.

"What?!" Is the only word out of my mouth clearly still too stunned to speak.

"Oh cut the crap, Brown! It was no secret that you fancied me back in my Mclaren days. If you're in Monaco come to the dock," Carlos says with a smirk making me gawk at the two for a few seconds before I hang up the phone and get changed into a swimsuit.

I shoot Lando a quick text letting him know I would be there in a few minutes. I guess you could say curiosity killed the cat but if a long time crush was offering me a day on his yacht I wasn't gonna pass it up.

When I get to the dock I find Lando sitting at the nose of the boat with a sour look spread across him face while looking at his phone while Carlos is smirking with his arms crossed watching me approach him.

"We have company," Carlos announcing making Lando look up from his phone letting his sour look deepen.

"Before I step foot on this yacht. I need to know what is about to happen and if both of you guys are consenting," I saw while looking directly at Lando.

"There's zero pressure on what we do today. But both of us understand what could happen and we're on the same page, Lando's just but hurt he couldn't keep you to himself," Carlos says making me raise a brow at him.

"No Carlos, I'm annoyed at you because you haven't shut up for the past 15 minutes about what happened between me and her," Lando announces with a bit of a whiney voice making me laugh softly.

When I set onto the yacht I look around to make sure we were alone before I walk to Lando and stand between his legs and lean down and press a soft kiss to his lips.

"Do you want whatever could happen to happen?" I whisper making sure he knew it was just a conversation between us.

"Yes," Lando finally answers looking up at me through his long lashes.

“I’m positive, it wouldn't be the first time Carlos and I shared someone,” Lando admits softly making me look up at Carlos with a surprised face. He just sends me back one of his signature smirks making me roll my eyes jokingly before stepping away from Lando and placing my stuff where it belonged before pulling off my swimsuit cover and making me way to find Carlos is alright driving the boat away from the dock while Lando rests back allowing his tanned skin to soak up even more sunlight.

I climb onto the sofa next to Lando allowing my head to rest on his shoulder.

"We aren't doing a single thing you don't consent to, and Carlos is big on verbal consent," Lando tells me softly angling his head so he can look me in the eye.

"Okay," I reply softly with a small smile playing on my lips.

Once Carlos has gotten us far away from the shore I realize we are completely alone in a cove with not a single person around us.

When Carlos approaches both Lando and I he leans down and places a quick kiss on Lando's mouth making me gawk at them softly before Carlos turns his attention on me.

"Can I kiss you, Hermosa?" Carlos asks softly making a me nod my head but quickly give a soft yes remembering what Lando had just been telling me.

As soon as the word left my mouth Carlos crashes his lips onto mine and our kiss was the complete opposite of the one him and Lando shared. While his and Lando's was quick and a bit lack luster Carlos and I's is heated and intense.

When I feel Carlos softly graze his tongue against my bottom lip I part my mouth and feel Carlos's tongue tangle with mine making me whimper at the feeling.

"Fuck, such a sweet little mouth. Lando has told me your head game is the best, would you like to prove him right?" Carlos asks softly.

"Yes sir," I reply back softly while pushing Carlos to sit next to me making me turn my body towards him on my hands and knees with my ass facing Lando making him groan at the sight of my swimsuit riding up my ass.

I pull Carlos's swim trunks just enough to free his hard cock before bringing my mouth down to his cock and pulling it into my mouth making him hiss at the feeling of me taking his full length into my mouth.

"Fuck," Carlos groans throwing his head back when I feel the tip of his cock bypass my gag reflex taking him all the way.

I start bobbing my head on his cock making Carlos tangle his fingers into my hair while Lando pulls my swim bottoms to the side where he started teasing my clit making me moan around Carlos's cock.

Once Lando felt I was wet enough he grips into my hair pulling me off Carlos's cock making me whine at the loss. Once Lando gets me situated on my hands and knees but this time facing Lando I realize all the prep he had done wasn't for him but was for Carlos.

Lando pulls his shorts off letting me take his cock into my mouth while I feel the tip of Carlos's cock teasing my clit making me pull off Lando's cock and trying to turn my head.

"He's wearing protection," Lando tells me softly making me nod my head and get back to work with Lando's cock. When I feel Carlos slowly sinking his thick cock into my tight pussy I whimper at the stretch. I can tell he's wearing a condom making me smile softly to myself knowing Lando was telling me the truth.

I knew I wasn't gonna last long but when I feel my orgasm build almost instantly I start freaking out slightly trying to pull my hips away from Carlos.

"Am I hurting you," Carlos asks letting my hips go letting me get away slightly.

"No! I was about to cum," I admit sheepishly making Carlos groans and sink his cock back into me in one quick motion before pounding into me and throwing me over the edge almost instantly.

"I don't care if you cum in 3 seconds or 3 hours, I want you to let go," Carlos groans fucking me through my orgasm before slowing down almost completely letting me come down from my orgasm without over stimulating me but once I got a few minutes of rest Carlos gets right back to it making me moan around Lando's cock making him whimper and pull me off his cock not wanting to cum just yet.

"Fuck, Carlos," I moan rather loudly letting my voice echo across the water coming out far louder than I was hoping.

"So fucking tight," Carlos groans clearly getting close to the edge making Lando shove his cock back into my mouth. I could feel another orgasm building deep in the pit of my stomach and once I finally release I feel Carlos shove deep into me one last time before filling the condom up with his cock. I feel Lando shudder one last time before a loud whine leaves his mouth and he starts cumming filling my mouth with his cum.

"Don't swallow," Carlos groans while slowly slipping his cock from my pussy making a me turn my head slightly and open my mouth showing him my mouth full of cum.

"Swallow some of it and spit the rest into his mouth," Lando says out of breath behind me making me look at Carlos who has a smirk on his face and he nods giving me permission. I swallow half of Lando's load before standing up and pulling Carlos into my mouth and pushing the rest of the cum in his mouth where he quickly swallows it and pulls me in for a quick makeout before pulling back and grabbing his discarded swim trunks.

Lando helps me get dressed before pulling me back into his chest and letting me cuddle up with him.

"Who else have you told?" I finally ask in a hushed whisper while Carlos starts moving the yacht to another location.

"No one I swear! But I'm sure Carlos will tell Charles, who will tell Pierre, who will tell Yuki, who will tell everyone," Lando admits sheepishly making my face grow hot and a groan to leave my lips.

"Great so I'm about to become the paddock whore," I saw with a cringed look across my face.

"No, I'm positive if anything they'll just want a taste," Lando tells me softly making me groan and throw my head back.

"That might even be worse," I groan again making Lando laugh softly.

"You do what you want. If someone tries anything and you don't want it you tell them to fuck off," Lando says as if this was the most normal situation in the world.

Over the next few weeks the group chat that started with just Lando, Carlos and I had slowly grown in size. While I wasn't sure how word had spread so fast I was positive that my life was not the same one it was at the start of the season.

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

LIKE A LOVE SONG- JOSH WASHINGTON

pairing: best friend!josh x fem!reader

word count- noo idea yet... writing this rn

summary: you and josh have been best friends for years, and the crush youve had on him hasnt subsided. things are all fine and dandy, until one night, the cat is pulled out of the bag...

warnings: implied SMUT, hella dirty talk, voygerism, dry humping, josh being a huge tease, pet names, some mocking, reader and josh are intoxicated, biting, etc etc

notes: hey so i need this man sexually! thats it thats all, im gonna open my account up to write for more fandoms and hop around:) just testing out the waters with this one

"josh we are sooo gonna get caught.." you slurred, hiccuping with a giggle as he tugged your arm, pulling you down the empty hallway, leaving your scattered friendgroup behind in the abyss.

a glint was in his eye as he looked back at you, full of mischief and hunger, and you couldn't help but bat your eyelashes at him. he was so dreamy it was making you swoon.

you had always thought he was beautiful- like a dream come alive. ever since he had accidently bumped into you during freshman year of college, you had be under his trance.

"shit, shit i'm so sorry, i shouldve watched where i was going. are you okay?" he had asked as he quickly bent down to help you gather your spilled papers. it was straight out of a chick flick, and you had finally felt like the main character instead of the extra.

he made you feel so special, always making flirty comments (though he did that with everyone), and giving you looks that had your head spinning.

tonight was no different.

the booze in your system made you extra giddy, and you felt his grip tighten as the two of you neared an empty bedroom down the hall.

not a doubt had passed through your mind when josh asked if you wanted to escape from the group for a while- clearly a bit intoxicated, but still stable enough to make a coherent decision. not in a million years would you pass up a chance to be alone with him.

"isn't that what makes it so much more fun?" he cooed, tugging you into the empty room, slamming the door behind you with a whoosh. without a second to gather your breath he had pinned you back against the door, hand darting out to turn the lock.

"do you actually-" you hiccuped nervously. "-wanna do something with me? do you wanna have sex?" you giggled, your bluntness making him laugh.

"yes, i wanna have sex with you. i have for years. is that okay?"

your eyes widened. did this man just say for years?

"oh."

he bit his lip, eyes roaming down your body, stopping to admire every trance from under your fitted clothes. "you gonna let me fuck you? or are you too scared chris is gonna wanna join in?"

"oh shut up."

he smirked, breath hot and heavy on your skin as he placed a soft kiss on your collarbone, nipping it with his teeth enough to make you hiss in shock.

"he does, cause you're so sexy. like a porn star. you have such a tight bod. wonder if your pussy is just as tight."

his dirty talk had your face heating, brain turning to mush as you moaned, leaning into his touch.

"you know how much i've wrapped my hands around my cock wishinng it was you? too many times." you squealed as he bit down on your neck, hard, hard enough to make a mark for anyone with a set of eyes to see, but you didnt care.

"j-josh fuck i-"

"whats up baby? need some cock to make you think straight? you've been giving me those pretty googly eyes all night, thinking i haven't noticed. so naive." he cooed as you ran your fingers through his hair, back arching into his touch as his large hands traveled down to your thighs before swooping you up so you clung wrapped around his torso.

"you're so fuckin hot. makes me so hard just thinking of you."

you rutted against him, sighing at the friction it caused, sending shocks down your spine stright to your core. his lips found yours, teeth and tounge clashing, nothing nice about the kiss. it was rough and hard and full of need.

"fuckin pathetic, humping me like some bitch in heat." he growled, his mocking turning you on even more. you reached down, struggling to tug at his belt, needing it off.

the less layers between you two- the better.

you gasped as your wooden support was removed, as he took you over and tossed you down on the bed with ease- as if you were a doll. you barely had a second to look at him before he was on top of you, smirk coy as he rutted his denim clothed cock on your cunt, already soaked through your shorts and tights.

he was toying with you.

"im gonna fuck you so hard you're not gonna be able to walk for days." he murmred, lifting your hips up as he tugged at your bottoms, nearly ripping them in half.

"then how are you gonna explain to the group why you're limping around like some fawn hm? cause joshey fucked you so good and so deep and your tight little cunt couldnt take it."

[psychotrenny]

It's funny to me how Armoured Core 6 spawned like an entire sub-section of Mecha fiction that isn't even based around the game's actual overall content but rather an exaggerated form of some very specific dynamics and ideas that crop up. And like the extent to which this sub-section "really" exists is kinda debatable, being something you only see in like short-form erotic fiction posted on Social Media and Fan-Fiction websites. But it's "real" enough to spawn a whole backlash to it which is also funny because of the stubborn refusal to recognise this fiction as like its own thing

And I'm not saying that this whole sub-section is "good" or that you have to respect it or that it's a thoughtful and compelling reflection of broader Mecha fiction. It's certainly reasonable to dislike this style of Mecha fiction. But you have to at least realise that this sort of thing is it's own style and stop criticising it as just a failed attempt of something more mainstream. Like I'll often see indignant cries of "Do these people even watch Robot shows? How can they call themselves Mecha fans?" and like yeah I'm sure a lot of people who enjoy this form of Erotic Mecha fiction only engage in that specific form of Mecha; which may make them fans of something you don't like but it's stupid to call them "fake fans". And there's also people who do very much engage with and enjoy other works of Mecha fiction but are obviously going to take a very different tone when talking about such erotic Mecha fiction in contrast to Gundam or something. They are very different takes on the same broad idea; interest in one doesn't automatically include interest in the other but that doesn't make them mutually exclusive either

I think an obvious illustrations of this is the whole "Imagine if a Mech Pilot was just a normal guy" post that was going around. To fans of the broader Mecha genre, both Super and Real robot, this comes off as a pretty inane thing to say. It's a common enough idea even among the most well known and successful properties; hardly something you have to "imagine" because most genre fans would have outright seen it. Not to mention the fact that most "proper" mech pilots are just ordinary human soldiers who have been trained for a special job. Like it's not a novel idea in the slightest. But within the specific context of (loosely) Armoured Core 6 inspired erotic Mecha fiction it takes on a whole new meaning. In such fiction your average pilot is some sort of lobotomised cyborg puppygirl, with the simultaneous transhuman and subhuman status of the pilot being a consistently major thematic aspect of the sub-genre. In that context, it would be pretty weird and fucked up for an ordinary guy to be caught in the middle of all that

Which isn't something you need to find interesting or compelling as a Mecha fan. It's perfectly understandable to reject this sub-genre and its ideas as stupid or obnoxious or whatever. But that rejection has to be a conscious act, not a reflexive outburst about how it's different from your preferred form of Mecha fiction. If you're going to criticise this sub-genre of Mecha then the criticisms need to be on its own terms; around what it's actually trying to achieve. You're missing the point entirely if you main criticism of horny mech posts is their failure to understand the themes of Mobile Suit Gundam.

[chrisbesitos]

younger! Reader having a pregnancy scare and she’s freaking out while Chris is just happy he might be a dad(she ended up not being preggo 🙁)

"I'm really worried about you, doll." Chris says, helping you to get back in the bed after spit out all your breakfast. He lightly rubs your hands, while you give him a weak smile, trying to tell him you're doing fine, even though you're not. You lay your head on the pillow, inhaling the scent of Chris in the bed sheets, the boy brushes your hair off your pale face. "You can handle anything in your stomach since monday."

"I'm probably just having a stomach bug, I'll be fine soon." You say, your voice sounds rasp, Chris groans rolling his blue eyes, really worried about how you're doing lately. Suffering with headaches, puking your meals and he's pretty sure your period is late, because you didn't complain about any cramps this month yet. He's really thinking about this.

Like, he knows you're only nineteen, but he also knows you sometimes fuck raw and even though you take pills, sometimes accidents happens.

"Doll, you're sure this is not — you know." Chris hums, you frown your eyebrows in confusion, lifting your body to stare at him better. Chris sighs, holding your waist to help you to sit, he rests his hand on your thigh.

"This is not what?" You ask, genuinely confused about what he's talking about. Chris lowered his eyes, looking at your belly covered with his blue hoodie, you follow his eyes, staring at your body too. You widen your eyes once you realize what he's talking about. Definitely no. "Chris, no. I'm pretty sure I'm not pregnant."

"You don't know!" He groans. You take a deep breath, shaking your head, giggling lightly. This is crazy, you're not pregnant, Chris' just overreacting on your sickness. "Look, you're throwing up, getting more tired and I know your period is late." He points, sounding a bit desperate. You cup his cheeks, smiling soft and shaking your head again.

"Baby, I'm on birth control and my period is not late." You say, trying to relax your desperate boyfriend. Chris opens his mouth, but you cover his lips with your thumbs. "I'm just having bad days, probably because I'm getting more stressed with my exams. Don't put this on your head, pretty."

"You should take a test to make sure."

"Stop saying this, okay? I'm definitely not pregnant." You giggle, kissing Chris' lips.

You're not pregnant, or you are? Your stomach bug is still making you puke your meals, now your period is really late by some days. Maybe Chris is right, maybe you're growing a baby in your uterus. The idea of being pregnant makes you feel scared, you're only nineteen, you definitely can't have a baby, not now. Chris is still worried, he bought a pregnancy test the other day, but he didn't say anything, because he knows you'd deny taking the test.

Sitting on the couch, rubbing your own arms, after throwing up again. Chris brings you a glass of water, his worried eyes staring at your soul. He kneeled down in front of you, rubbing your knee.

"Maybe I'm pregnant." You murmur, your voice cracking, almost sounding like a whisper. Chris frowns his eyebrows, resting the glass on the coffee table, he holds your hands and rests them on your thigh. "Maybe you're right."

"You want to take a test?" He asks, rubbing your small hands. You open your mouth, but nothing comes out, only a weak sight. He takes this as a 'yes', he squeezes your hands before lift and walks towards his room to take the test he's been hiding in the bathroom cabinet. He walks back, sitting by your side and handing you the box.

"I'm scared, Chris." You whisper, he nods grabbing your chin to give you a peck on your lips. You smile, a weak smile trying to be positive. You don't want to be pregnant.

"I'm here with you, doll. It doesn't matter if it's positive or negative, I'll be by your side." Chris cups your cheeks, your eyes getting glassy by the fear of being a mother at nineteen, but Chris' words help you to calm down a bit.

You walk to Matt's bathroom, Chris waits for you outside. You take the test with your hands shaking, your heart racing and your lips trembling. Outside of the bathroom, Chris is thinking about you being pregnant, he wants to be a dad and wants to grow a family with you. Of course he's scared, he doesn't know how to take care of the baby, but he'll figure it out. He's thinking about all of this and he doesn't know if you're really pregnant, but in case you are, he's already ready for the news.

"Chris?" You call, the test upside down on the sink. Chris comes in, holding your shoulders and rubbing lightly. "I didn't look yet, I'm too scared."

"We're gonna figure it out, babydoll. Trust me." Chris says, picking the test and looking at the visor. His smile fades when he sees the result, you widen your eyes picking the test from his hand. Your body instantly relaxes, you were freaking out.

Negative. You're not pregnant.

"Thank God, I was shitting my pants." You smile, resting your head on Chris' shoulder. "We're not gonna be parents, at least for a while." You sigh, genuinely happy for not carrying a baby. But Chris looks kinda. . . Upset? You frow your eyebrows, putting the test back in the sink, you hold your boyfriend's hands and give him a kiss on the chin. "Baby, you want me to be pregnant? Be honest."

"Hm, no — I mean, I kinda like the idea of having a kid with you." He says, you smile nodding with your head. You let it go his hands and cup his cheeks. "I would like to be a dad."

"Oh, baby. I would love to be a mom and have kids with you, but we're too young for this. In a couple years, when we have our own place, we can think about a baby." You brush your thumb on his cheek, offering a soft smile. Even though you're only nineteen, you're really mature. Your words make Chris smile and nod, that's okay for him. Having a baby in a couple years, he'll remember this. "I love you, baby."

"I love you so much more, babydoll. Mother of my future kids."

꩜ chérie's notes: y/n is not pregnant and chris' upset :(((( poor baby, just want a baby to call he dad.

taglist ; @lizzymacdonald06 @lushjunkie @sweetreliever @watercolorskyy @ivysturnss @brianna-grace12 @blahbel668 @gabri3la-sturns @stvrnzcherries @unknvhx @pvssychicken @all4l0vee @i4longhairchris @sluttybitchformattsturniolo @sophand4n4 @sturniololetstrip2 @zayluvss @sturnsmia @sofieeeeex @ifwdominicfike @planettori @jetaimevous @leclecwifey16 @mattswifeyx @joclyn240 @voqueflms @pepsicola-pussy @sturnobsessedwh0re @chrissturnioloswifeee @sturniolossss @imonlyhereformattfluff @sturniolosluttt

masterlist. | taglist.

[hiskillingjar]

OKAY WAIT um um ummmm okay uh favorite positions and kinks/fetishes of the boyfrgiends or or or maybe maybe their reaction to to mc surprising them with lingerie i have too many ideas starts shaking

cute <3

ren 🦊

ren is fairly easy from a fetish/kink perspective in that it's basically. all. (or at the very least, most)

like mans is a fetish monster. porn brained. gooner.

but the romantic sort, in that he just wants to do anything that'll be done with enthusiasm and eagerness!

like. yeah he's a rapist freak, but he wants you to enjoy it too!

same reason as to why he likes missionary the most! <3 he wants to see your face and talk to you and enjoy your body

(and see your boobs bounce as he fucks you)

if you surprised him with lingerie (especially if it was cute and pink and sparkly), he would LOSE HIS MINDDDDUHHHH

plap plap plap, get pregnant, get pregnant, etc etc.

lawrence 🥀

lawrence is a bit specific, but they like anything that basically revolves objectification and dehumanisation

they love your body, but what's there to enjoy about being human? wouldn't you rather be something else? i can do that for you...

a lot of bondage, degradation, extreme dominance and control...lots of stuff!

law doesn't have sex very often (they're depressed...), but missionary is nice. they like it when you're on top too (especially if an MC was chubbier and heavier than them). they like the pressure of it <3

they wouldn't think much of being surprised with lingerie. they like you authentic, not making an effort, honest...but maybe if you wore something in vinyl or latex...hm <3

strade 🔪

when it comes to sex, strade is. sort of vanilla lol

like he's a tried and true, missionary sex, a hand around the throat, growled dirty talk, kinda guy

but he's super "yes and", so if you were interested in something, he'd be more than happy to appease :)

in The Basement, though, we know he likes sadism/masochism, degradation, anything that just ruins you and makes you hopeless and easy to fuck with <3

strade's a missionary guy, but he likes doggy style too, to demean you and make you feel like shit ^_^

if you surprised him in lingere, he'd have the guy-in-his-thirties response, give you a wolf whistle and slap your ass, like "nice one babe"

[mistriavalley]

Okay so I’m loving your smut headcannons and at the bottom of Sam’s you talked about the idea of both Sam and Sebastian fing the farmer. If you’re comfortable w it I would LOVE to know what you have to write about it. Lots of love♥️♥️

Sam's fantasy (Sam x Sebastian x afab!farmer)

Note: This is based on my Sam smut headcanons. You don't necessarily have to read those, but they will give you some context, because I'm basing these headcanons on those

TW: 18+ MDNI, smut, threesome, masturbation, everyone is giving and receiving oral, creampie

Masterlist

As I mentioned in my previous headcanons, Sam is very much open to try almost anything and threesomes aren't an exception. He'd prefer it to be with someone he trusts though and that someone would be Sebastian in this case. It has been a fantasy of Sam's for a while anyways

It's not that he's super attracted to his best friend, but it has definitely crossed his mind a couple times. He has even thought about it while jerking off. Just imagining the sight of you sucking him off while Sebby is fucking you from behind or beneath you

Sam is a bit hesitant about bringing it up though, because he doesn't want you to get jealous or anything, but you wouldn't be reading this if you'd mind a threesome with these two so yea. The fast speed and eagerness you agree with to it, makes him low-key hard

You two decide that it would be the best to have Sam bring it up to Sebastian alone. You're close to him, yes, but you don't want to run into the risk of putting him on the spot or pressuring him if you have too many people there

Once you guys agree on a day, time and place (which is obviously your farm) you and Sam try your best to set the mood a bit. Some scented candles are bathing the living- and bedroom in a nice orange light and depending on the weather you light the fire place as well. Sam suggests to have some music running in the background, but you can't agree on which songs to put on so you just leave it as it is

When Sebastian finally knocks at the door and you guys let him in it's awkward to say the least. He's just standing around with his hands shoves in the pocket of his hoodie, you're sitting rather stiff on the couch and Sam is trying to figure out how to ease the tension a bit. "Does anyone want a drink or...should we go straight at it?"

His ungraceful attempt at lighting the mood earns him a chuckle from both you and Sebby. "Straight at it? You want us to jump on each other or what?" You both poke some more fun at your boyfriend's clumsy wording and everyone quickly relaxes. After a while of just talking and hanging out you guys finally do decide to move it to the bedroom

There it starts rather awkward and slow as well, but once most of the clothes are gone and heated kisses are being exchanged, everything continues on rather smoothly. Soon you find yourself on your back with Sam's hard cock in your mouth while Sebastian is eagerly eating you out

You slightly gag on your boyfriend's dick as the first orgasm of the night washes over you. Your legs instinctively wrap around Sebastian, trapping him between your thighs. Sam lets out a low moan at the sight, almost shooting his load in your mouth, but he holds back his own climax

Everything is kinda a blissful blurr from that point on. There is either a tongue lapping at your swollen clit or a pair of fingers caressing your g-spot while you either get a cock shoved down your throat or pumping a shaft with both hands

The boys give you a small break though. A few minutes to catch your breath. As your eyes flutter open, you're being graced with the sight of Sebastian sucking Sam off and your breath catches in your throat. Your boyfriend has a fistful of black hair in his hand while his best friend is doing a damn good job at deepthroating him. It's making your pussy wetter than it has ever been before

Quickly you crawl over the bed towards Sam and place a deep, hungry kiss on his lips. He groans into your mouth as he gently rocks his hips and holding onto your body for dear life. Then you get an idea and with a mischievous grin you make your way down until you're right next to Sebastian

He's kissing and sucking the tip while you lick the shaft and your hand is fondling Sam's balls. The mix of his pre-cum and Sebastian's saliva tastes heavenly and you can feel something wet run down your inner thighs

But then suddenly Sam sits up and brushes blonde hair strands out of his face. Pearls of sweat are running down his reddened face and his chest is lifting and falling heavily as he pants. "Fucking hell..."

Sebastian quickly takes his place, making himself comfortable with his head on the pillow. His arm is placed under his head and with his free hand, he takes you gently by your cheek and guides you down. Of course you're more than eager to get another taste of him. While your tongue slowly drags along his shaft, from his balls up to his tip, you feel a shift of weight behind you on the mattress

Before you can look over your shoulder to see what's going on, you feel a familiar pressure on your cunt and you automatically lift up your ass higher. As Sam slowly slides in his heavy cock, you take in Sebastian's entire length. You try to bob your head to the speed of the Blonde's hips, but it's so difficult to stay focused while he hits all the good spots

Sebastian's hand gently strokes your head and he tries his best to keep your hair out of your face while Sam is fucking you straight to cloud 9. You feel a familiar knot forming in your stomach and you grab a fistful of the bed sheets while your other hand is looking for support on Sebby's thigh

Your legs shake as you reach yet another climax and you fall slightly forward until you feel the tip of Sebastian's dick hitting the back of your throat. He throws his head back with a moan as he cums into your mouth. The warm liquid tastes a bit salty and sweet at the same time and there is so much of it that it runs down your chin

Shortly after that you feel Sam's cock twitch inside your cunt and his fingers dig into your hips as he fills you up completely. Cum is dripping out of you from all sides and your muscles ache as you fall flat onto the bed. The air is filled with gasps and the smell of sex

"That was...I don't even know, man." You and Sebastian let out a breathless giggle at his words and for the longest time you all are just calming down and catching your breath

"So does anyone want drinks now?" "Sure." "I'll just get cleaned up first."

[novankenn]

Salem: (About to attack)

Jaune: (Thinking Quickly) Hey are you ok?

Salem: What? Why ask me that?

Jaune: You look like you gained weight.

Salem: No I haven't! .............. Do I muttering to self looking mirror.

Salem: You're a fool! Choosing to face me alone when you as a group FAILED to best me the last time we met!

Jaune: Someone needs to keep you busy, and I volunteered.

Salem: (Laughing) You think you can delay me enough that your little friends can affect and escape?

Jaune: Well, guess you know the plan so what'll you do now?

Salem: I'll eliminate you, and then crush your pathetic friends.

Jaune: You can try...

Salem: (Evil Green energy collecting in the palms of her hands) I don't try... I do...

Jaune: So how do you do it?

Salem: (Confused) Do what?

Jaune: (Makes a general motion indicating all of Salem) That.

Salem: I... what? DO what?

Jaune: Seriously, do you have no idea what I'm talking about?

Salem: If I DID I wouldn't be asking you what you mean!

Jaune: How do you do you?

Salem: Do me? That makes no sense!

Jaune: Well obviously since we last met you might have put on some extra weight...

Salem: WHAT? No... no I haven't!

Jaune: Well, I was trapped in the EverAfter for like a century so I could be remembering things wrong... but you do look a little rounder than I remember...

Salem: ROUNDER?!? (Snaps her fingers and summons a seer and starts twisting and posing to look at herself in the mirror like surface of it's head) No... no I don't think... did I?

Jaune: Like I said I could be miss remembering.

Salem: (Rushes over and grabs Jaune by the shoulders) AM I FAT???

Jaune: Now, now. No one said anything about you being fat!

Salem: (Sniffling) But you said I was looking rounder!

Jaune: Yes, but in a... how do I say it?

Salem: Just say it! I'm fat!

Jaune: NO! You are not FAT! You're full figured! You're curvy! You in no way look unhealthy or fat!

Salem: (Sniffling) Really?

Jaune: Yes, really. You're... pardon the expression... the ultimate MILF.

Salem: MILF? I'm not familiar with that term. What does it mean?

Jaune: Well... heh... um... it means Mother I'd Like to...

Salem: Okay that's the M, I and L, what does the F stand for?

Jaune: I don't think I should say. It's a rather rude term, for use in polite company.

Salem: What. Does. The. F. Stand. For?

Jaune: F means Fuck.

Salem: Mother I'd Like to Fuck???? OH!!! OHHHHHHH....

Jaune: Um... why are you looking at me like that?

[anjelicawrites]

Anon who sent the request for modern!dark!Aegon, obsessed with reader. Tumblr ate it! That's not stopping me from answering!!!

Aegon knows everything about you: the name of your first pet (Mr. Whiskers), how much watching cute animal TikToks makes you cry, your favorite way to make risotto (saffron with a dash of white wine). He knows you have been hoarding books you don't have time to read, and that you're trying to learn how to crochet in your spare time.

Warnings: DDDNE, stalking, disfigured Aegon, dark Aegon, obsession, non con fantasies (from Aegon to reader), masturbation, use of toys, talk of drug rape usage, voyeurism, talk of kidnapping, talk of reader becoming a basement wife, talk of a previous car accident, talk of drugs and alcohol abuse, talk of infidelity, Aegon enters reader's home to spy on them.

Read at your own risks. Be responsible for the fiction you consume!

NSFW and 18+ only please.

He knows all about the way you sound when you're pleasuring yourself, those high sobs, almost as if you're in pain, when you keep the toy against your clit, forcing another orgasm out of your body. He's learnt to know which one of the toys you're going to use, depending on the kind of porn you pick; he refuses to masturbate if he can't come with you, watching your lovely face contort with the pleasure you force upon yourself, through the screen of his laptop.

Maybe, just maybe, he could try to meet you the normal way, perhaps strike up a conversation in the elevator, or when you both are checking the mail, down in the lobby. Then he looks at himself in the mirror, the scars on the left side of his face and torso, those that plastic surgery couldn't cover, the partially missing hair and his limp: he's not the kind of man anyone would ever desire to date, not after his car accident at Rook's Rest.

If only that night he hadn't driven drunk, if only he had listened to his brother then, perhaps, you'd entertain the idea of dating him. In this parallel universe, so dear to his heart, he's still handsome and healthy, he would sweep you off your feet and stop using drugs, only for you. This other Aegon would be faithful to you, and he would never drive while drunk: he'd be your perfect lover, your best partner.

He'd be able to show you that he's the half of your apple, the piece missing from your soul, because you're the one he needs from his.

It's almost a joke the surgeons managed to save his dick and balls, only for him not to be able to use them anymore.

So, no, he can't try to date you the normal way, he decides after having stumbled upon you the second time. He can't talk to you, nor he can even imagine to ask you out for a drink: that's why he starts learning all he can about you, using every means possible, unconcerned with the money he spends, or the illegality of it.

He fully knows that putting cameras in every corner of your apartment it's wrong, so it's cloning your phone so that he can check on your messages, apps and phone calls. So is doing the same to every piece of electronics you own.

He doesn't care because he needs you in his life, and if he can't have you the usual way, he'd be happy to be with you like this.

Only, he didn't realize that Want is an ever famished demon that, day by day, needs you more and can't be satisfied this way any longer.

So he takes risks: stumbles upon you on purpose in the lobby and around King's Landing, he slips into your apartment when you're out, to touch and pretend to live among your things. Still, Want needs more, so he enters your place at night, when you're asleep, to watch you as you lay in bed and, when he dares, to slip next to you and pretend you two are sleeping together.

It's not enough, not anymore. He needs to know what your skin feels like under his fingers, how sweet your cunt is after he's fucked you with his tongue into multiple orgasms or how tight your hole will clench around his cock.

For days he has played with the idea of putting something in your food, to make sure you would not remember him fucking you for the whole night, his cock milked and milked by your hungry cunt, his tongue licking you clean, his lips at your clit, constantly.

But he wants to know if he could make you sound the way you do with your toys, and he can't find an answer if you're asleep.

And Want desires more: a full life with you, whether you're happy with this decision, or not.

Looking for a quiet, little place, somewhere in the country, where no pesky neighbors will come and ask unwanted questions, is the logical response. So is buying a special wedding ring, the kind that can't be taken off, because it has little knives on the inside that will come out the second you try to remove it.

Planning your taking is easy, finding the right people who will help him, for the right price, is a piece of cake. Now he's only waiting for you to return home, hidden by the shadows the empty furniture cast in your apartment. He's taken the liberty to cancel your lease and to send all your belongings to the house you will share with him, where you will have all the time to read your books and learn your crochet. Where you will be his, body and soul, his lovely little wife he will fuck every single time he feels like to, and Want is ravenous inside of him.

So, hurry up, your new life is waiting for you!

[cogitoergoetc]

I think a lot of human behavior makes sense if you assume people are generally inclined towards punitive violence by default and will make up excuses to justify that after the fact. Because it's important to recognize "there might be a way to resolve this without harm but it is not the responsibility of the person being harmed to find that solution instead of harming back" is true and widely applicable, and there is some evidence picked out and lionized that punitive violence does sometimes actually fix the problem. But everyone inclined towards it anyway then have an opportunity to hook that inclination onto the idea "this is one of those times," and it's so hard to catch that kind of thought as it rips past unless you're looking for it, even as you're aware that the vast majority of times it's applied, it doesn't fix the problem, it causes new ones.

So we have people who have talked themselves around to the idea "direct and visible consequences for this decision will help these people not make that decision again." And the obvious problem is "these people", writing off other actual human beings as part of a monolith because the human brain likes shortcuts in more cases than just optical illusions.

I'm not saying that justifies any of it, because it is fucking awful to vocally fantasize about the suffering of real people as a baseline and there is a million miles of racist bullshit stacked on that. Don't fucking root for people to be displaced from their homes. It's never more complicated than that.

But... the underlying problem feels fixable. If pointing out that someone has arrived at a conclusion that's completely horrible was enough to stop it, most of human history would have gone differently.

It is not the responsibility of people currently subject to racist bullshit to try and socially engineer a stop to that bullshit instead of taking steps to protect themselves. But anything that can be mustered, should, I think. Conversely, though, "how can we channel, in a productive way, what might be a fundamental and irresistible human urge to punch someone else until that person believes the right things" is just a fucking minefield. I don't even trust the perceptions that led me up to that thought enough to try and take it further.

Complex fuckin' species, humans. Sponges don't have these problems.

if you're a white person taking pleasure in the idea that Trump voters of colour are experiencing racist violence from white trumpers because "they got what's coming to them" I don't think you're anti-racist at all, I think you were just waiting for an acceptable target, and you're also fucking weird.

Bad Person Deserves Punishment For Their Sins give me a fucking break and get yourself out of the fucking catholic church. you're all prison abolitionists until you see someone you don't like.

[cloudyskydreams]

Hello I've loved all your writing and hope to see more if its okay to ask how would the skeletons react if the reader came home badly hurt from someone sorry if this make you uncomfortable keep up with the amazing rewiring love to see more

Hello! Let me just say I adored your cosplay of Black it looks so good!!

Secondly, there's not alot that'll make me uncomfortable! Just letting everyone know that for future reference if you got some weird or gross or angsty ideas I have no prob writing them ::3!

Anyways these were actually really fun to write and kept me busy at work when it was slow. Thanks so much for requesting!! Hope you guys enjoy ::>

Undertale:

Sans:

His sockets widen and his eyelights shrinks upon seeing you. He teleports over quickly and gets you to the couch as he asks what happened. He listens to your explanation as he makes you a 'dog for the healing properties and gets to work bandaging you up. He's pretty calm throughout it but he's not really cracking jokes and you can see the sweat dripping down his skull. Once you're considerably better than before he lets out a sigh of relief and cuddles close to you content to keep you company for now. Now Sans isn't a violent guy really he's more of a bard. Talk his way out of the situation. Later though, later he's going to find that douchebag and show them a bad time

Papyrus:

Papyrus smiles upon hearing the door open and spins around in the kitchen to greet you happily. His face contorts to one of horror upon seeing your state and the plate in his hand drops smashing across the kitchen floor. He's over by your side in a quick few strides and gently carries you to the bathroom where he sets you down on the couch. He gets you some of his monster candy stash and bandages you up asking about what happened, he sits next to you and gently asks if you'd like to call the police stating he'll be by your side the whole time. If you say no he might just go by himself when he gets the chance and report what he knows.

Underfell:

Red:

Upon first seeing you bruised and battered Red's mind goes blank. He stares at you for a solid minute with empty sockets before he starts yelling as he grabs you by the wrist , surprisingly gently, and leads you to the bathroom. He bandages you up and disinfects any wounds as well as giving you a monster candy before he demands to know who the fuck hurt you. He stays by your side till you fall asleep very clearly pissed off still everytime he looks at your state but trying to be soft for you. Then when you're sleeping he leaves the house to hunt that fucker down and send them to the hospital with all their teeth knocked out and a few broken bones.

Edge:

He sees you and his fists clench by his side as he takes in your battered form. He walks over and gently searches you for any serious wounds assessing how badly you're hurt before leading you to the bathroom to patch you up. He stays calm and level headed but eeriely silent for the most part until he's done bandaging you. Then he inquires about what happened, where, and with who. Once he has all the details he kisses you softly and mutters how he's so glad you're okay before leaving you wrapped up in blankets on the couch with a comfort show and some monster snacks to help you heal. He's gonna rough the guy up then drag him to the police station and force him to confess.

Underswap:

Blue:

Blue's bright smile quickly falls and the quick steps he was taking to you falter as he sees you standing in the doorway. He rushes over a deadly serious look on his face as he looks you over. He gently leads you inside and phones the police as he's getting medical supplies and some monster food. He patches you up the best he can while telling the operator what he knows from what you tell him. The police arrive and interrogate you and Blue stays by your side holding your hand the entire time and comforting you.

Stretch:

He's sitting on the couch when you come in and he calls out over the back of it. When you don't reply he looks over and sees your state sending him into a state of shock. He quickly teleports over and lets you lean against him as he walks you to the couch. He's panicking inside he doesn't really know what to do as the sight of the state your in knocked all common sense out of him. So he calls his brother as he gets medical supplies and monster food. His brother shows up and after seeing the sight of you calls the police which makes Stretch freak out a little more. So he's by you're side clinging to you and trying to reassure you to the best of his ability while you and Blue deal with the Police.

HorrorTale:

Axe:

His eyelight shrinks to the smallest it's been and his hand immediately starts tugging on his empty sockets as he stares at you. It takes him a little bit to process the situation and by that time you're already inside. He's over by your side quickly shoving monster snacks in your hands as he looks over the wounds. He doesn't remember where the bandages are so you have to tell him where and he gets them. Very gently wraps you up acts as if you're porcelain. He sits you in his lap afterwards and cuddles up close starting to purr softly hoping it will help calm you. He asks what happened and listens with intense silence. He writes it down so he doesn't forget but leaves the person as a problem for another day he's more focused on you right now.They may think they got away with it but he won't forget about them not after what they did to you.

Willow:

He sees you and gasps already by your side and scooping you up as gently as he can. He sets you on the couch softly and looks over your wounds. Gets you some leftovers from the dinner made last night for the monster food healing properties and bandages what needs it. He runs his fingers through your hair as he considers his options. He doesn't mention anything to you though as he gently takes care of you babying you throughout the night but makes sure to get as much information as he can out of you. Once you're asleep he writes down everything you said and finds Axe who hadn't seen you yet and mentions the situation before handing over the paper. He's got a small brotherly favor to cash in tonight.

[jetspikepub]

No one ever really talks about it in the fandom and it NEEDS to be discussed because it's hilarious to me. I have to ask where all the crazed spike x julia fans come from 😭 like say one thing negative about the ship or ship spike with someone else and there's this one person (who I think owns multiple spikexjulia accounts snd pretends to be different people😭😭) that starts sending their "CAnoN aNd facTuAL eviDencE" with so much hostility

I've also noticed that Julia fans either always hate Faye and/or don't give a damn about Spike's well-being and just want him paired up with Julia even if that costed him his life, which I don't even think Julia herself wanted for him to do in the end lol. It's a little disturbing

Oh trust me, this is a looong story. It's not like we don't see it, we just got tired of it. You're not alone, I give you a warm hug🫂

This user has been terrorising Bebop fandom across multiple platforms since 2022, I think. If you ever see this bitch harassing someone just flag the account or ban it. A collective appeal could do the trick, but it's gonna be like chopping off Hydra's heads. This pain in the ass keeps posting weird commissions on X (Twitter), Deviantart, Reddit, Pixiv (for Christ's sake, please DO NOT search Bebop tag on Pixiv, it's a total disaster in there right now) and edited Bebop wiki, describing Faye as Spike's no 1 enemy and Julia as a goddess of doves and roses 🤢 It's hard to track down every account, the only way to stay safe is to not interact with them and blacklist. "If I ignore it, maybe it will go away" tactics is the best in this situation, don't let them take away your time and emotions, they cannot be reasoned with.

Another thing that bothers me is that stupid localisation of guide books with SpikeJulia nonsence the translators added just because they wanted to and ruined the original idea that implies multiple ways of story perception. I've aready dispelled that "truest lover ever" myth by presenting the original texts from my collection of Japanese books. They fucked up with "love" kanji meaning in Eng and this changed a lot (I did some analysis here and here). Now we can see what happens when these love stories fall into the wrong hands: haters cite it like a Bible in each and every thread about SpikeFaye😩 Also there was a post about some Julia's love letter to Spike (wtf?) written on the back cover of the vol. 6.

I wanted to make a post about it and took pictures of a Japanese edition but forgot. Now it's the right time to dispel another myth.

According to quick translation results, this guide was made to inform fans about some Bebop episodes which weren't aired on regular TV and appeared later on WOWOW (premuim satellite broadcasting) because of censorship.

There was no mention of Julia writing letters to Spike in the original series. It was Spike who gave her a note describing rendezvous point or whatever and she tore it to pieces🤷🏼‍♀️

Just remember: Spike's well-being is up to the viewer. Noone can convince you otherwise if you don't want to and noone has right to insult you. Spike is for everyone 🌸

The situation is so annoying, those who loved SpikeJulia or didn't give a damn about them now hate this. If someone is going to use "SpikeJulia" as a safeword I will understand 🤣

[plaest2k]

hey, im a young nz artist too and i like making comics/want to do something bigger when im older, and i think your stuff is genuinely so fucking cool. i love it so much. i was wondering how you pursued art after highschool, like did you go to art school? if so, where and what was that like, and if not, how’d you find the time to continue doing it? its always felt like my opportunities for a career in art specifically seem smaller living in nz, but idk your stuff inspires me to think otherwise. thank you :)

kia ora!!

thanks so much for asking, it's truly so flattering that a young nz artist would ask me for advice! <3 sadly i might not necessarily be the best person to ask...

First of all, it's been a loooooong time since i've been a young artist hahaha I'm 32. After high school, I studied architecture at university because, as you're probably aware, we don't really have art schools like our peers do overseas. But after studying for a few years, I had a major depressive episode and dropped out. After that, I ran away to Korea to teach english for a year before coming back to work in cafes for about 6 years. Back then I was pursuing a career in editorial illustration cause that's what all my favourite artists were doing but I didn't realise that it was a dying industry at the time and there weren't exactly lot of full-time professional artists here who could have warned me...

So after about 10 years of trying to piece together some kind of profession in illustration, I ended up looking for a tattoo apprenticeship which was looking pretty promising but my bosses turned out to be not-so-great people. I tried to keep tattooing on my own but that was around the time COVID hit which wasn't (and still isn't) great for a job that requires you meet face-to-face with a lot of people. So, since the pandemic began, I've just been subsisting off of jobseeker, chipping away at comics and the occasional illustration gig.

The whole experience had me perpetually burnt out for the past ~15 years and made me realise that art as a career really just shouldn't be a thing. Under capitalism, it requires either an embarrassing level of compromise, privilege or luck to pursue. All the household-name artists you know in NZ either come from privilege or got unbelievably lucky. I don't say this as a value judgment or anything, most of them are truly wonderful people, it's just what I've learned about them as colleagues who've worked together a few times over the years.

I don't fault anyone for wanting to pursue that, but if you want to make uncompromising art that makes you feel fulfilled, you can't stake your livelihood on it. Art is supposed to be a by-product of life well lived, not content to be sold.

It's why I'm making plans to go back to uni next year to switch careers into a cushy office job because, as you've observed, even if you still want to pursue this as a full-time career, opportunities for artists in Aotearoa is extremely limited.

Having said all that, there's still a lot of nuance to this whole thing that would take me too long to cover in a tumblr post, so if you'd like me to elaborate or anything or have more questions, you're more than welcome to contact me through my email: plaest2k@gmail.com!

And this offer extends to literally anyone who might be looking for advice or just wants to talk about art <3

Final thing: the thought of studying something else at college/ university and keeping your art as a hobby might sound bleak when you're young, but life is so much longer than you think. You might feel like you have limitless creativity and ideas at the moment but when it becomes your entire life, you burn through it all faster than you'd think. It's because you need fuel to inform what you make and you can't get that from just making art. Like I always say, art is a by-product of a life well lived; You need life-experiences; You need to love, hate, care, be hated and loved to make art and you can't do that if you're too busy to do any of that. Those 3 years you spend on a bachelors is nothing in comparison to a lifetime of staring at a blank page, agonizing over what to make next.