#I’ve been dreaming about this guy who is some kind of general who is on leave

[hawnks]

having thoughts about true bdsm couple. like……. one wants to be punished/craves release and the other craves control.

nicest people you’ll ever meet, but behind closed doors…..

[casualhedonists]

✩ it don’t need your loving, it just needs attention ✩ (chapter two)

pairing: Coriolanus Snow x reader

chapter: 2/?

MASTERLIST

warnings: NSFW (18+), snow being snow, themes of sex work (not the reader), cuckolding, eventual smut, fake relationship, unprotected sex, themes of voyeurism & mild exhibitionism, murder mention (but no actual murder) (not yet at least?), MAJOR manipulation/gross power dynamics + generally darkish themes, some power play, oral sex, thigh riding, eventual piv, i’m new to full on smut bear with me here (and pls tell me if i forgot anything!)

i do not give permission for my work to be reposted/translated anywhere, under any circumstances.

a/n: first off, THANK YOU for the love on chapter 1. wasn’t sure how I’d fare since I’ve done a lot of writing in my life but little to no smut. with that said! longer chapter incoming. also I just know he’d give insane head okay i just do,the guy looks like he fucks and he definitely does

You weren't sure exactly how you slipped away from Snow’s room that night, but you could somewhat piece it together in flashes. First a head rush, then the fire in the pit of your stomach practically having gasoline thrown on it.

You remembered a quiet gasp escaping your lips, then panic, a flash of white, and suddenly you were stumbling away, head spinning as you tried to catch your breath, pacing unevenly down the hallway, any chance of a stealthy escape long thrown out the window.

Back in your room, once the door was bolted and your back was against it, making sure nobody could get in if they tried, you had your first shot at clear-headedness since you’d heard heels scuffing the hardwood.

You’d soaked your panties through and were dripping down your thighs, but you’d be damned if you could get into the headspace to take care of it. Panic flooded your veins, ice-hot as you tried to catch your breath. you slid down the door and sat there, legs numb against the cold wooden planks.

Who was she? A million questions filled your head all at once. Was she from the Capitol? Could she be one of Snow’s friends, one of your friends? The thought made you sick. What if you’d dined with her before? Talked to her? How long had this been happening? Who knew about it? Were you being played?

Had he seen you watching him?

Unable to help yourself, your one-track mind took you back to the way he’d groaned your name, though you were half sure that had been a fever dream of some kind. Still, you kept replaying it. Over and over, like a broken record.

It didn’t make any sense, you were so fucking confused. All this time you’d been hoping he would make a move, you’d practically begged him to. Why hadn’t he? When you were clearly on his mind, and yet he made you believe he didn’t think of you that way at all. Was he just respecting your agreement?

You fiddled with the lace on the hem of your slip as you mulled it over. You stayed sat like this for almost an hour, trying unsuccessfully to wrap your head around it. When you ended up right back where you started, and you were sure enough time had passed that if someone was coming to get you, they would’ve already, you finally stood up. Your caution led you to drag a chair from across the room, propping it up by the door to jam the handle. That left you with the sliver of peace of mind you required to shower off this cold sweat you’d formed.

The next morning, you dreaded breakfast. But you knew you had to face him, as well as the fact that this could very well be your last meal. You should at least try to eat well.

You made your way downstairs, a few minutes later than usual, enough for Coriolanus to already be sipping coffee, a few pages through his newspaper. You’d not got fully dressed yet, not wanting the contrast to be too obvious, but you’d wrapped a silk dressing gown around you so you were a little more covered up. You knew one thing for certain, you wouldn’t be trying any more of your tricks until you knew just what you were dealing with.

He didn’t look over at you, which you took as a good sign. The urge to hide from him, from what you’d seen and what you now knew, overwhelmed you. You didn’t say a word, and picked silently at your breakfast, but despite your best efforts, not managing to keep more than a few bites down.

“You’re quiet today.” He muttered, and you started.

“Um.”

He lowered his paper.

“Something wrong?”

How about everything?

“Oh, no, I’m okay. Just uh…” you glanced up at him, and met his sharp gaze. Fuck. You’d hoped you’d go unnoticed. You felt like a deer in headlights, like he could read your mind.

“Well?” He prompted, gaze unwavering. You blinked.

“Headache.” You managed to breathe, faking a small, pitiful smile.

He brought his paper back up in front of him, crisply turning the page. You both thanked the new barrier between you for cutting off his stare, and resented it as you looked at the tiny printed words you couldn’t make out from where you were sitting.

“I’ll have Lucille bring you up something.”

“Thank you.” you said quickly, almost too quickly, and you feared he might lower his paper again to watch you as you stumbled over another excuse. But you fell lucky this time.

The week seemed to pass in a blur, Monday’s gala being one of the only times you really left your room when Snow was around, other than meal times, which you spent in a similar state as that first breakfast. You cursed yourself for throwing out your longer dresses, and settled for the least suggestive of them, the white one you’d been thinking of pitching to Snow as a backup plan in your panicked state outside his bedroom. That all felt worlds away now. What you’d seen had shifted the tides, marking a solid, definitive line in your head between the before and after.

The gala went as well as it could given the circumstances. You danced, Snow was charming to you in front of the guests, but held your gaze no longer than usual. It was simultaneously terrifying and thrilling to feel his hands on your waist, knowing what you knew. It felt like you’d been tapped with a cattle prod and had to hide it every time his hand brushed yours on top of the dinner table, as unsuspecting guests smiled at you, the happy couple.

If only they knew that in the same breath, you were scanning the crowd, wondering who the blonde could’ve been, how close she was to Snow, if at all, and hating the way every touch he placed on your hands and waist served as a reminder that he’d been touching her instead of you.

Your stupid brain had formed a highlight reel of what you’d witnessed behind Snow’s door, and it tortured you with every passing moment. To know he was thinking of you. To think that maybe, he wanted you there instead. It put a strange sense of possessive pride into you, that weaved between your jealousy. Because yes, you’d seen another girl on her knees with her mouth around him, but you hadn’t heard any name other than your own while it happened.

You carried this strange hope, dwindling to start off, and then building each day that you were left un-hanged and very much alive, slowly chipping away at your fear of the worst. And yet, you knew the game, unbeknownst to Snow, had been fundamentally changed. You’d stopped your antics altogether, now barely meeting his eye as you passed each other in the hallway, covering up more at breakfast, and only talking just enough to avoid another interrogation. Avoiding touch, and conversation, and all-around keeping yourself away from him.

You were quieter still at night in your room. After a few days, you’d finally felt safe enough to move the chair away and sleep with the door locked as you normally would. But while your games had stopped, your want for him had only been amplified. Fuelled by jealousy and frustration, you had to bite down on your hand so that not even the slightest noise made its way out as you pictured him, not as you used to in your fantasies, but as you’d seen him that night, undone with your name on his lips. It was much easier, in your head, to picture yourself as the one on your knees. Any other fantasy just failed to make the cut now you’d seen the real thing.

Thursday rolled around and you’d made a new habit of pacing the downstairs library when Coriolanus was out of the house. That way, if he got home and stepped inside, you could pretend to be lost in a book. But the hours seemed to stretch out and you became bored, and with no Snow in sight, you decided to head down to the servants’ quarters.

This wasn’t a common occurrence, but it wasn’t unheard of. You were known for your gentleness among the house staff, less harsh than Snow, but firm nonetheless. It had led you to a respectful friendliness with the maids and servants, and once every so often you’d check in on them.

Today’s objectives, however, were purely self-motivated. You found Lucille, who dressed you, at the kitchen table, chopping vegetables.

She stood upon seeing you, and curtseyed (Snow was rather old fashioned that way). You nodded, then took a seat at the foot of the table.

“Do you need any help with that?” You glanced at the cutting board.

Lucille’s eyes widened. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Ma’am.”

You laughed. Lucille chopped and diced, and you asked questions. At first, they were after her family, her brother was sick and despite your offers, she wouldn’t accept help. So instead you listened, and slowly but surely, your questions got a little more directed toward the object of your interest.

You were good at playing the long game, so you started by asking about the company he kept. What she thought of them, with the promise that it would stay between the two of you, cross your heart.

She wouldn’t say much but she knew a little more than you; Snow kept very similar company as you did, and rarely went out for social visits. Any trips were strictly work-related, and when you eased into the topic of his past, Lucille mentioned, in very polite terms, that he had left a small trail of women heartbroken after a short period of time. That not all of them had been pleasant, and that she was pleased you seemed to have a positive effect on him.

She knew about your arrangement, practically the whole staff did, but they were kept on a very tight leash and were thoroughly reminded to not say a word acknowledging it, not even to you. It was with a knowing glance that Lucille told you she was happy you’d stayed around.

You smiled. Knowing that was likely all you were going to get for now, you let her be. By then, it was late enough to have gone dark, and you headed up to bed.

You awoke to creaking outside your door, and the shadow of footsteps from underneath it. You’d been tossing and turning for the last - you checked your watch - two hours. Excellent. You rolled onto your back wondering who it was, and then you heard it again. At first you wondered if it was just a sleep-deprived hallucination, or a sense of deja-vu, but then you focused, and there it was. The sound of heels. Again.

You sat up in bed, pushing your hair out of your face. You were enraged the first time, but if this was becoming a Thursday night tradition, it would be a serious problem. You were tired, you reasoned, you could just try to go back to sleep. Ignore it. Not let him have this power over you, a power that he didn’t even know he had. All the more reason to ignore it, and make it tomorrow’s problem.

But you just couldn’t let sleeping dogs lie, no matter how hard you tried. Your mother used to say it was a problem, always sticking your nose in places it didn’t belong. But it had got you this far, hadn't it?

You knew you were going to follow her to Snow’s room again, it was just a matter of time. You had to at least pretend you had an ounce of self-control, whereas really your head was thrumming and you knew it would take getting hit by a high-speed train to send you back to sleep now.

So you held off. Five minutes passed. Then ten. You had to know, at least, what they were doing. Maybe you could get a look at her face, see who it was, and answer some of the questions you had.

So you went. With a purpose this time, knowing full well what and who you’d end up seeing, trying to take steady breaths and focus on your plan. Check who it was, then leave.

You’d never been that great at execution. Call it hedonism, call it a morbid fascination, or living vicariously, but when you walked up to the door - which was ajar again, strangely even more than last time, by at least an inch or two - you looked inside, and your feet planted. The last shred of your self-control allowed you to take in the room first, the desk and chair that was right within your sight, and as you tucked yourself into the room, half hidden behind the door, you finally looked back at the bed where you’d seen Snow with his blonde girl last time.

Neither of them were sitting now.

Thirty seconds ago, you would’ve believed the hottest thing you’d ever seen was what played out in this room last week. But that was before you saw Snow turned away from you, still fully dressed with his sleeves rolled up, stomach on the bed and face between the blonde’s thighs, eating her out like he was on death row and she was his last meal.

You’d gotten head before. You knew it felt good, but the boys you’d slept with before your arrangement with Snow were selfish and inattentive. They would try, but they were far more interested in getting their dicks wet than showing you a good time. But Snow - you’d never seen anything like it. You didn’t know it could feel that good, or at least, not as good as the blonde girl - who you noted in the back of your mind, wasn’t anyone you recognised - was making it look. Her hips were bucking so hard he was having to pin her down with both hands around her waist.

She was just moving so much, wriggling and crying out and gasping and - you didn’t think you’d ever truly known jealousy until that moment. You couldn’t look away, knees weak and hands shaking, letting yourself get sucked into this headspace again, losing all trace of rationality. You’d think she was playing it up for him, but you knew what that sounded like. You’d faked enough orgasms to know if she was, but this? This was real. As she got close, grinding into him, writhing, running a shaky hand through his hair then getting louder, you managed to snap out of your trance.

In a flash, you ran back down the hallway.

If you thought you were avoiding Snow before, this week was about to give you a run for your money. You took breakfast in your room, and kept only to the parts of the house you knew he never entered. You only touched yourself in the shower, silent cries washed away by the water and steam, paranoia backing you into a corner.

You feigned illness the one time Snow sent a maid to inquire after you. Nothing too major, but enough to put him off. When he left the house, you snuck into the library to smuggle books back to your room, a pile forming as you tried ceaselessly to distract yourself.

You wrote home, you studied art and history. You attempted a few terrible sketches. You tore apart your room, then put it back together.

Before you knew it, Thursday rolled around again. On longer days like this, when Snow had been away working for hours at a time, you’d doubled down on your efforts to get information, and after chipping away for just long enough, you finally managed to squeeze some tidbits out of Lucille. Namely that there was a certain gentleman’s club in the city that he used to frequent before his election as President. Snow’s old driver might know its name, she said.

“But that was long before he met you, ma’am, rest assured.” She added hurriedly.

“Of course. Thank you, Lucille. I think I’ve kept you for long enough. Goodnight.”

Snow had been gone for the whole day, and you weren’t sure if he’d come home yet, so as you headed up to your room, you quietly wandered a little further down the hallway, to check if there was any light beneath his door. There wasn’t. Good. You were glad he wouldn’t be continuing this routine of his. Maybe this Thursday night, you could sleep peacefully.

With a sigh, and mulling over what you’d learned today, you returned to your room, poured a drink, then collapsed into bed.

This night was as sleepless as the rest, and you’d been drifting - not uncomfortably - in and out. A storm was brewing outside, and the sounds of howling wind began to keep you alert. You rolled onto your back and stared at the ceiling, then glanced towards your door. Snow must’ve come home at some point, and very late at that, because dim lights had been turned on in the hallway. Paranoia crept into your mind, slowly poisoning your thoughts and turning you inside out.

It didn’t take long before the feeling pushed you to roll out of bed, slide on a dressing gown, and crack open your door. This time, you couldn’t hear footsteps, or anything that might arise suspicion. You closed the door again. Waited. Then looked around your room, at the messy sheets and the half finished glass of liquor on the nightstand. You rarely drank alone, but these past few weeks had been getting to you, fucking with your head. Coriolanus Snow had driven you to this.

The wind got louder, and you knew you were too wired to sleep, so you stood by your window and finished the glass.

You’d never been good with mysteries. You wanted to know everything, all the time. Know who had power over you, know precisely how to take it away. Know exactly what was happening around you at any given moment. But most of all, you didn’t like being played for a fool.

And sure, the ethics of it had never been discussed between the two of you. Your business was strictly professional, but when you weren’t allowed to sleep around, why could he?

In fact, how dare he?

You poured another glass, straight whiskey. Downed it, pacing your room, back and forth between the door and the window, running your fingers along the ridges of the crystal glass. You thought about him, comfortably in his room, not a care in the world.

How dare he.

You weren’t sure if it was the drink or the buildup of your situation that had your blood boiling, but it didn’t matter. You were incensed. His behaviour was an insult to your name, to your family’s name. Sure, this relationship was a sham, but all the more reason for him to act with basic fucking respect. Sleeping with - and very obviously, at that - a whore, who had a bad habit of leaving the door cracked open, was unacceptable.

You were running hot, and if you knew one thing for certain, it was that when Snow met with fire, he was going to melt. You’d make sure of it.

Your feet took you into the hallway, with the decidedness that this would be the last time.

You rushed down the corridor with a tightly bottled rage that was about to burst, words hot on your tongue and demanding to be spoken, until you turned the corner and saw Snow’s door half open. You stopped in your tracks. Reassessed, then stepped closer, slowly, steadily. Remembering what you were there for.

Then, as you got close enough to see inside - right there, without you even having to step past the threshold, were the two of them, lit by a table lamp, Snow sat on the desk chair as the girl rode him to high heaven, obscene noises getting louder. As you approached you saw Snow’s face again, eyes shut, breath laboured, and you couldn’t believe that anyone just walking by would be able to see this. They were fucking like animals, out in the open. You didn’t know how or why you drew closer still, closing in on them. The girl’s head was dropped down to his shoulder, back facing you, and couldn’t see you unless she turned, but Snow? He was practically facing the door, almost as if he’d been…

No. It couldn’t be. Could it?

But you didn’t have time to think it through, because Snow’s eyes blinked open, and you knew. He was looking right at you, blue eyes piercing into yours, sharp and dangerous like he was going in for the kill. You stood there, jaw dropped, unable to look away. In what world could you walk in on someone like this, and feel like they held all the cards, and you none? That was how he looked at you; like you’d been there watching the whole time, and this was all a show, playing out exactly as he’d planned it. Like somehow, despite all your best efforts, he’d landed on top.

It was like he read your mind, because he wet his lips, unblinking as the blonde writhed on his lap, and fucking smirked.

a/n: can’t wait for them to hate fuck after this (oh sorry forgot i’m the author for a sec) thanks for reading <3

taglist: @superchatnoir07 @itsrainingreid @nycweb-slinger @lookclosernow @etfrin @resibunn @serving-targaryen-realness @harmfulb1tch @demonsnangels @superb-icarus @julesandro @gracieroxzy @slyhersophia @shadowsepiphany @ben-has-arrived @unclecrunkle @zerotwo-sciencequeen @itsleniiilosers @thesiriusmap @ooooglymoooogly @darkqweenn @going-through-shit @loverw1tch @stinkii-boii

if you’d like to be tagged, please leave a comment on the masterlist!! 💌

[604to647]

Safest with You (Ch. 21 - The Way to Get Over Someone, Part 2)

11.3K / Modern AU Retired Mob Enforcer!Din Djarin x fem!reader

Summary: Despite Din's attempts to be evasive, you learn the truth about your break-up, and make some decisions about what you are and are not willing to accept going forward.

Warnings: 18+ Content (MDNI please). Angst, pining, longing. Nicknames as usual (pretty bird, baby). Some smuttiness but won't spoil.

A/N: Well, we're here: the penultimate chapter (if you don't count the epilogue) - sorry for the word count! 😱 Thank you to everyone who's read up to here - I can't tell you how much it means to me! I know some of you have some strong feelings about Din's actions/dumbdumbness and that's okay!! If you feel like regardless of his intentions, he shouldn't be forgiven/can't be redeemed, I invite you to read up until the paragraph that ends with the blue heart dividers 💙💙💙. I hope that where it ends provides a satisfying conclusion for the series for you and thank you, thank you, thank you again!

All dividers by @saradika-graphics / Series Masterlist

You don’t know how you get through dinner; you must have gone on some kind of small talk auto-pilot because if Mark knew just how much your mind was preoccupied by another man while he was being nothing but genuine and engaging, he probably would have thrown a glass of wine in your face.

Outside of the restaurant, Mark gives you a shy look and asks if you want to get ice cream for second dessert.  Oh man, he really is good guy.

“Oh Mark, I really cannot believe I’m turning down ice cream, but I have something to confess to you,” you look apologetic and hope he’ll let you say what you think he deserves to hear.

“Honestly, Mark – you’re a dream date.  You’re smart and funny and Jen was so right, you’re a fucking catch.  I can’t tell you how guilty I’ve been feeling because I don’t think I’ve been reciprocating the energy and effort that you deserve.  I don’t know if Jen told you, but I got out of a relationship a while ago and I thought I was ready to date again – but being with you tonight… I realize I’m completely out of my element.  I don’t have any business going out with a great guy like you – not right now anyways.  I’m so sorry.”

Mark looks surprised, but his tone is understanding, “Oh!  Wow.  Jen did say something about that – I’m sorry about your last relationship.  It sounds like it really did a number on you.  If it makes you feel better – I had a great time.  I didn’t in anyway feel like I was carrying the date or anything.  And if tonight was you not feeling like you’re up to dating again, then I can’t quite imagine what it would be like to date you when it’s something you’re ready to put your all into.  Thanks for being honest.  When you feel like you’re ready to give dating another shot – think of me?”

It’s a generous and gentlemanly response; you really couldn’t ask for anything more.  The two of you part ways with a light hug outside the restaurant; Mark offers to call you a cab, but you let him know you’ll be fine, and wave appreciatively as he drives away in the car the valet brings him. 

Sighing a heavy sigh, you’re just thinking it might be best if you send Jen a message to let her know how the date went before Mark does when you hear a crash coming from the alleyway next to the restaurant.

Curiosity getting the best of you, you walk over to the side of the building and peek around the corner; there in the alley is the occupier of all your current thoughts, Din, kicking garbage cans in frustration.  When you see him punch the brick wall of the building and shake out his fist, your legs carry you to him as if on instinct – unable to see Din hurt without the urge rising to comfort and soothe him.

Din has both of his palms up against the wall when you close in on him, leaning his weight against his hands with his eyes closed, breathing heavy.

“Din?  Are you okay?” you ask softly, not wanting to startle him.

He looks up, surprised at your appearance – eyes stormy, the rich browns of his irises full of emotion, “I’m okay, pretty bird.”

Pretty bird.  Your heart swells at the familiar term of endearment that you thought you’d never hear again.  It’s like music to your ears.

“This doesn’t look okay,” you gently pull the hand that you saw him shake in pain away from the wall, turning it over and cradling it in your hands - gasping a little when you see his knuckles scraped and bleeding.  Din watches your pretty face cloud with concern as you take a handkerchief from your purse and delicately wrap it around his wounded hand; tying it snugly against his palm before turning his hand over and bringing his knuckles to your lips, pressing a tender kiss against the makeshift bandage.

“Thank you, baby.”

You’re looking at him with such a sweet expression that Din’s heart starts to ache again; he has to remind himself that your concern isn’t really for him particularly – it’s just your kind nature, “Where’s your date?  Did he go and get the car or something?”

You shrug good naturedly, “I sent him home.  Would you mind putting me in a cab, Din?”

“Of course.” As Din walks with you back towards the street, his injured hand rests protectively on your lower back and the gesture causes a chill to run up your spine.

It’s not in uncomfortable silence that the two of you wait on the curb, but Din is afraid that if he doesn’t engage you in some type of conversation, you and this moment will disappear before his mind registers it as being real, “Why did you send your date home?  Did he try something?” His eyes darken.

You shake your head lightly; Din’s protective nature is exactly as you remember - you’ve missed it, “No, nothing like that.  He was fine, really.”  You can’t deny it any longer, you’ve missed him, “He just wasn’t… you.”  With this admission you look up at Din and search his eyes – does he miss you too?

“Oh, pretty bird,” Din manages to breathe out before he descends on your mouth, kissing you fully and so full of longing and desperation he’s afraid he might actually break you.  Your arms fly up of their own accord and wrap around Din’s neck, pulling him closer, closer, closer; your fingers thread and tug at the loose curls at the nape of his neck and you long to run your hands through his hair again - you refrain, not wanting to mess up his hairstyle.  He’s yours and you’re his again in this kiss – every brush of your lips, every step in the dance of your tongues a testament to how much you’ve missed each other.

You’re melting.  Melting into Din’s strong arms and the safety of his hold, reveling in the warmth of his affections.  It’s like you’ve never left, his body molds to yours, fitting so right – pressed flushed against Din, you dare anything to try and get between the two of you right now.

Parting reluctantly when you hear the slow crunch of tires coming to a stop next to you, Din kisses your forehead gently before seeing you into the backseat of the cab.  When you see him open the passenger side door and speak to the driver, you recall with a surge of affection that cab ride after Katie’s birthday when you and Din reconnected after your brief separation.  Once again, Din tells the driver your address and emphasizes the importance of getting you home safely, punctuating his point with an overly generous tip.  Your heart swells at the memory – the déjà vu driving home how everything about your relationship had been real.

When Din comes back to see you in the backseat, your eyes are bright and full of feeling – he’s here, the sweet man who always takes care of everyone, who only every wanted to take care of you; he’s right here in front of you again.  Bringing your hand up to Din’s cheek, your heart soars when he leans into your palm with a smile; the soft feel and weight of his face familiar and comforting.

“Din, I know you didn’t sleep with Vanessa,” you say simply with no room for argument – a simple fact.  Now that you’ve said it out loud, it seems so fucking obvious.  How could you have ever believed that this man could have been capable of such a betrayal?

Simplicity and truth are all that Din can afford as well, “Of course not.  How could I ever want anyone else when I had you?  The perfect woman.  You’re the love of my life, pretty bird.  Would never cheat on you.”

The sincerity of his words brings tears to your eyes, “Then why, Din?  Why would you want me to think that you had?”

You look so confused and sad; for the billionth time, Din chastises his past self for his dumb decisions, “Needed you to hate me, pretty bird.  Needed you to stay away from me.  It’s the only way to keep you safe.”

Though this answer is vague, your response is relayed with certainty; hands cupping Din’s face, “I’m safest with you, Din.”

The kiss that Din presses to your lips at this declaration is achingly desperate, as if he’s trying to brush away all his past mistakes and wipe clean the hurt he’s caused.  He loves you.  You can feel it in every stroke of his tongue over yours, and in the way his teeth nip and nibble at your lower lip.

You’ve missed his mouth, his touch, and everything Din – and judging by the way his hands cradle your face and the deep emotions swirling in the richness of brown eyes, Din’s missed you just as much.  The two of you hold each other, foreheads pressed together for closeness, breathing in the other’s air as you soak in this togetherness that neither of you ever thought you’d experience again.

Finally, remembering what that last cab ride led to, you whisper, “Din, will you come over tonight?”

There’s a pause as Din’s brows furrow and his eyes squeeze shut.  This moment of tenderness with you, one where you don’t hate him, has been more than he deserves.  But it’s a fantasy, a mirage – the reports of escalating violence he listened to during tonight’s meeting still fresh in his mind, Din shakes his head in frustration.  Based on what had been disclosed in the meeting, he can’t help but think that it’s working – everything he’s done to remove the target on your back is working; he can’t throw away your safety just so he can have this feeling again.  That would be too risky.  Selfish.

“Pretty bird, I can’t do that.  I’m sorry.”

“I don’t understand, Din,” your voice breaks at his latest rejection and the sound tears Din in two.

He lifts your chin with his fingers so that you’ll look at him though the tears that are already starting to form in your beautiful eyes, “Baby, please understand.  We can’t.  We can’t be together – you deserve better than this, than me.  Being with me puts you in unnecessary danger.  My deepest fear is that you get hurt and I can’t… I won’t let that happen.”

“You’re hurting me right now, Din,” your voice small, sad.

Din knows he is, but he has to stay strong and resolved for your sake, even if this short respite from the dull ache of his everyday existence has been a heaven beyond his imagination, “I’m sorry, pretty bird.  I really am.  I love you, I love you.  But you deserve better.”

You say nothing but the few tears that roll down your cheeks speak volumes.  With great difficulty, Din says a wordless goodbye with kisses to your hair, then both of your hands before letting them and you go.  He knocks on the top of the cab to let the driver know he can leave; as the taxi drives away, he sees your hurt face looking back at him and it nearly brings him to his knees. 

Pressing the heels of his palm to his eyes, Din lets out a loud growl of frustration.  Taking several deep breaths before going back in to rejoin the Family meeting, he repeats to himself a mantra that he has to believe – This is the right thing.  The most important thing is that she’s safe.  Staying away from her keeps her safe.

---

Din’s resolve lasts exactly two days.

---

It takes you only the duration of the cab ride home to get over the sting of Din’s rejection.  Yes, the emotional whiplash of having him tell you that he loves you only for him say that it doesn’t change anything between the two of you hurt, but by the time you’ve taken Al out and finished getting ready for bed, your hurt feelings have been replaced by fresh purpose and determination. 

You finally have some answers.  Somehow Din has convinced himself that being apart from him is for your benefit and he’s willing to sacrifice his own happiness for it.  The problem for you is that he’s also willing to sacrifice yours. 

There’s a part of you that is livid about this, but you’re keeping this particular emotion at bay for the present moment with your newfound conviction to get to the bottom of what’s going on; you’ll get the answers you seek before you decide how you’re going to feel about it all.

You spend most of the weekend turning over the events of the last five months in your head, looking at them with a new perspective after the revelations from the past four days; mentally preparing a list of things that Din owes you explanations for and talking yourself in and out of how you’ll demand them of him. 

By some twist of fate, your regular Sunday brunch has been cancelled for the first time in forever, with several of your friends unable to make it – you can’t decide if this is in your favour or not.

On one hand, you could really use their opinions and a sounding board for your rollercoaster of thoughts and emotions; on the other hand, you suspect that Din is currently not your friends’ favourite person and you could probably do without the barrage of insults that would inevitably be thrown about as a reaction to his and Vanessa’s confessions from this past week.  Not that Din didn’t deserve them, but rather they wouldn’t help you work out what you need to do next.

By Sunday afternoon you’re sure of a few things:

Din loves you.

He has always loved you and he never stopped.

You love him, too.

He truly believed that being with him put you in danger.

What you didn’t know:

How could it be that he loved you so deeply but could so readily leave you?  Not just initially five months ago, but again, not two days earlier?

What gave him the right to decide what was best for you? 

Did he really think it acceptable to keep you in the dark about things that he clearly believed impacted your life so significantly?

The details of what prompted Din to act the way he did don’t interest you as much as why it led him to behave so unsympathetically for the past five months.  The more you think about it, the harder it is for you sit still and wait out the indetermined amount of time needed before you get your answers.

On Sunday night, you make the decision to head down to Mando’s yourself after work one day this week.  Feeling confident in your decided course of action, you’re as satisfied as you can be with the situation when you hear a knock on your door.

---

This is too easy.

Din mutters to himself as he walks through the parking garage beneath your apartment building undetected.  It was entirely too easy for him to gain entry into the garage and avoid the security cameras on his way to the internal stairwell.  He makes a mental note to talk to Paz about this gap in security as he’s taking the stairs two at a time up to your floor. 

He had tried to stay away, he really had.  But just as Din had always known, without the deterrent of you hating him and the surety that you would push him away, he had only his own self control to keep him from seeking you out, and that had crumbled under your loving touch outside the restaurant on Friday.

It had been too long since Din had gone without the feel of your soft lips pressed to his or basked in the warmth of your soft gaze and he had positively melted from both when he saw you after your date.  Like an addict in recovery, the high from his relapse was too intense to ignore; he simply could not be kept from you any longer.

He barely recalls what happened after going back into the restaurant on Friday and finishing the Family meeting.  Or how he got through Saturday at the gym, trying to slog through this month’s invoicing and attempting (unsuccessfully) to concentrate on Jimmy’s training.  Don’t even ask him what he did today.  All he knows is that after nightfall, his body drove his truck over to your neighbourhood and his feet carried him straight to your door.

Unsure of what type of reception he’ll receive if you open the door, Din doesn’t even know what he expects, only what he wants: you.

Your door opens with you already ready for bed, blinking at him with an unreadable expression.  Din thinks he should speak first and lets Al buy him some time when he noses out, nuzzling his snoot into Din’s large hands.  After giving your happy pup a few head rubs to show him how much he’s been missed, Din straightens up to look at you again; he opens his mouth to say something, though he doesn’t know what - and he never finds out because you kiss him.

You hadn’t expected to see Din before your planned confrontation, and you certainly didn’t think you’d see him at your door looking so soft and vulnerable.  After he had dispensed some love to Al, the expression in Din’s eyes when he raised himself back up to his impressive height was that of a much smaller man.  One who was unsure, ashamed.

To see Din like this takes all the wind out of the proverbial sails you had hoisted high over the last two days, the ones you had readied in anticipation of the fight you were bringing to his doorstep this week.  And just like before, when faced with seeing Din in distress, your mind, heart and body ache to soothe and calm him - so you do what comes naturally and press your lips to his.

Din’s lips never leave yours.  Not when you walk him inside your apartment and close the door, and not when he familiarly navigates the layout of your living room to sit on the couch and pull you down onto his lap.  He won’t stop brushing his desperate mouth against your perfectly plush pout, the one he dreams about regularly, even as he murmurs the only two phrases he needs to know you understand:

I’m sorry, baby.

I love you, pretty bird.

You match Din kiss for kiss, “I know.  I know, Din” as you undress first yourself, then the man whose touch you’ve been yearning for for nearly half a year and whose weight you long to be under again.  Your body cries out, remembering the feel of the corded muscles of his strong arms and the comfort of his hard chest; your hands molds to Din’s body as they roam and explore, afraid if you release him he’ll be ripped away from you again.  On Din’s part, even as his mouth becomes more insistent, his touch on your body remains gentle, reverent – where you’re urgent and possessive, he is worshipful.  And still, he recites:

I’m sorry, baby.

I love you, pretty bird.

With Din owning your mouth, your moans of I know, I know, I know are swallowed and vibrate down into his chest - setting his heart on fire and quickening his pulse even as he kisses deeper and steals all your air.

Feeling him lick into your mouth, you whimper ‘Din, please’ and the sound of his name once again on your lips makes Din’s dick jump.  He grabs you tight around the waist, holding you to him to continue fully exploring the open, moaning cavern of your mouth, conveying his devotion with each caress and massage of his tongue.  How could he have ever let you go?  You show Din that you don’t want him to do so ever again by meeting his every touch, every kiss, every guttural needy noise with a hungrier one of your own.

It’s been too long and your hearts and bodies have missed each other too much; Din is already hard and throbbing against where you’re wet and wanting.  Everything is hurried, messy, and inelegant.  You need each other and that’s all there is to it.

Overcome with your own greediness, you murmur, “Need you inside, baby.”

As Din’s entire body melts into a puddle at your words, every muscle in his broad frame relaxes and all his power and control evaporate in the face of his one and only fantasy coming to life; only snapped out of his euphoric state by the sensation of you smearing his leaking precum over his length with your soft hands - Din thinks he might come from this alone.  He’s craved your touch every moment since that fateful night outside his apartment, but he holds back for the heaven he knows is to come when you line him up to your entrance and slowly sink down.

It’s really has been too long – Din’s too big and you’re too tight and there hasn’t been enough prep; it hurts.  But somehow it’s welcomed - both of you needing it to hurt, wanting it to hurt, so you know it’s real.

“Nggghhhh – fuck, Din, so big,” you whine as he stretches you out - he’s bigger than you remember.  He feels better than you remember.

“I know, pretty bird.  But it’ll fit,” Din hums, “because you’re made for me.”

His sweet words belie the sting to your tight channel, but the joy that overflows from your heart straight to you core soon drowns out the pain; this is how it was always meant to be: you trusting your body to Din, and Din taking care of you.  Slowly, slowly, your sheath yourself onto Din’s cock – fitted so close that you feel every thick vein and groove along your warm walls. 

Din’s kisses are gentler now, tender and reassuring like his words, “Doing so good for me, pretty girl,” “You feel so perfect around me,” “Love this tight cunt, missed her so much.”

His praise causes your pussy to gush and your hands card through his soft curls appreciatively.  Gazing into Din’s eyes lovingly, you coo back your own song, “Feels so good, daddy,” “God, I’m so full,” “Noone wrecks this pussy like you, baby.”

When you’re finally fully seated, with Din bottomed out inside you, his balls nestled perfectly under your ass, the two of you simply just rest.  Countless minutes go by so you can relearn to breathe and Din thanks his lucky stars for the privilege of praying at your altar once more.

Fully blissed out and body trembling upon remembering its rightful place on Din’s cock, you whisper, “Din, please move.” And move he does.

Slowly and with the restraint of a saint, Din thrusts up to meet your tentative downward movements, dragging his cock deliciously in and out of your tight cunt, letting her suck him back in of her own volition.  You wrap your arms around his neck and feel Din’s sensual kisses on your lips, down your neck, and at the hollows of your throat; the wet trail his mouth leaves behind causes an electric chill to run throughout your entire body, your hips bucking a little harder, a little more ambitious in response.

There’s no rush, the two of you have all the time in the world to enjoy your reunion, and yet there’s an urgency - a hunger to devour as much of one another as you can, both starved from your time apart.  The need to make up for lost time takes over; every kiss of skin on skin is an apology and a promise, your declarations of love becoming louder and more unabashed, movements more fervent, frantic.

Din groans into your skin, “Pretty bird, not going to last.  Missed you too much,” as he starts to punch up with an impressive force, driving his cock deeper into your cunt and reaching that spot that only he’s ever been able to find.

“Give it to me, daddy,” you mewl, barrelling towards to your own orgasm faster than you had expected, “Need it.  Need you.  I love you, I love you, I love you.”  This is the first time you’ve said it back tonight, and the only time Din’s heard these sweet words in the musical lilt of your voice in last five mouths – this alone sends him on the fast track to the edge.

He snakes one hand between your bodies to find your already pulsating clit and starts to pen a long overdue love letter with his thumb.  Din’s other arm pulls your body as close to his as possible, so you’re now pressed flushed against his warm chest, moving with him as one.

I’m sorry, baby.  I love you, pretty bird.  I love you.

I love you, Din.  Missed you so much.  I love you.

You come - teary eyes locked onto Din’s as he signs over his fate with an elegant signature on your clit.  Your slippery nub kisses his thumb back just as hard, crying and begging for relief as you clench down from the onslaught of pleasure that only Din can give you.  Din spills deep into you as your pussy chokes him, milking the euphoria of his release for all it’s worth.  He’s in heaven.  You’re his heaven.

Wordlessly, you and Din exchange soft smiles and besotted looks as you clean-up after; a string of never-ending tender kisses lead the two of you back to the couch where you lay down in Din’s arms, sated and pliant, soaking in the strength and sureness with which he holds you, “Din, we need to talk.”

“I know, pretty bird,” he’s ready to tell you everything, lay it all bare for you. 

Propping yourself up on your elbow so you can look Din in the eye, you implore him to be honest with you, “You said you needed me to hate you.  That it was the only way to keep me safe.  What were you talking about?”

Din tells you about the photos that the Family received which had been received as threats and the various confrontations and incidents of harassment in the months following that confirmed them as such.  He tells you how scared he’s been for you, and how guilty and sorry he is that you were ever caught up in his world in this terrifying way.

Forcing himself not to look away from your pretty face when he sees it line with fear, Din tells you that he never wanted you to feel frightened or for your life to be interrupted, “You’re safe, pretty bird, I promise.  You’re well protected - the entire Fett Family is looking out for you.  They love you as much as I do.  The Family would never abandon you.”

“Just you then?” It wasn’t meant as a sarcastic or passive aggressive comment, but you just honestly can’t see what this had to do with why Din left you.  If anything, wouldn’t it have made more sense for him to stay by your side?

Regardless of your meaning, Din looks pained at your question and averts his eyes in shame.

“I understand that you were afraid for me because of the threats, but if the Family was willing to protect me, I still don’t understand why you would need me to hate you to be safe?”

“You should never have been in danger at all, baby.  The reason you’re a target is because of me.  Whoever issued the threats only targeted you because… because, they knew how much you mean to me.  How much I love you.  It wasn’t enough just to protect you from the threat, I didn’t want you to be under threat at all.  That’s the only way to guarantee you would be safe.”

You stroke Din’s face with your hand, and he leans in to your comforting touch and closes his eyes.

“If you hated me, then you would no longer be a worthy target.  The person they really want to hurt is me, and if we weren’t together anymore, they can’t do that through you.”  Din sighs, “But I’m so sorry, pretty bird.  The way I went out about it was all wrong - hurting you like I did is inexcusable and it shattered my heart to do so.  You didn’t deserve to think I cheated on you.”

Your heart softens and you lean in to lay gentle, sympathetic kisses to Din’s soft lips.  Finally, finally you understand.  Though you don’t excuse the hurt he caused, you can understand Din’s fallacious reasoning; in an odd way, it’s a relief to see him so unchanged – his actions ever consistent with his self-sacrificing nature and his conviction to take care of those he loves, to keep them safe.  The only thing is, his was not the only heart he had sacrificed.

“I thought you never loved me,” you say in a small voice, “when I thought you had cheated on me, it made me question our entire relationship.”

“Oh, fuck, baby,” Din’s shame and self-anger triple upon hearing your words.  He had expected you to be angry, to hate him for the lie he had you believe, but he never considered that you would have doubted what he felt for you prior to that horrible night.  Secure in the depth of his own devotion and the truth of just how in love with you he was, Din had thought what was unshakeable to him would be the same for you; but of course, now that you’ve said it, it makes complete sense and he adds this egregious transgression against you to his long list of regrets, “I’m so fucking sorry.  I never thought- oh, fuck.  It never crossed my mind that you might ever doubt how so completely in love with you I’ve always been.  From the moment I met you it was over for me, baby – you became the single most important person in my life.  I live for you, pretty bird.  I’m so sorry I ever made you feel any differently.”

Din looks at you with so much sincerity and desperation, you heart is unable to do anything but believe him.  You know without a shadow of a doubt that Din loves you and moreover, that everything he’s done has been in the name of that love.  And though you trust in his pure intentions, they’re misguided in a way that you have to make him understand.  If the two of you are to have a chance again, you need honesty and openness, and Din has to have faith in that same love when things get tough.

You’re lightly scratching Din’s facial scruff the way you know he loves, wanting to just enjoy this affectionate moment a little longer before you dive into the more serious things you need to talk about when you both hear Din’s phone start to buzz incessantly. 

Din reaches his long arm off the couch and easily finds his discarded pants and pulls out his phone, frowning when he sees the multiple notifications on his lock screen.

His entire body tenses as he reads Paz’s messages.

Hutt movement three blocks away from Lil’ Lady’s.

Woves confirms the group is growing.

Mods say traffic cams show more on the way. 

Din feels a stab of fear tear through his chest before the horror of what he’s done settles like a boulder in his stomach.

For the five months that Din had left you alone, there hadn’t even been a hint of suspicious activity anywhere near you.  No appearance of shady characters or any incidents of malfeasance, not a single one.  You had been safe.

What had changed tonight?  What could have possibly happened to incite a flurry of rival gang activity so close to your home when it had never previously been an issue?

It was him.  What had changed is he had been weak.  He had given in to his need for you, selfishly putting you in harm’s way.  Din realizes he had been right: staying away from you had been keeping you safe.  He gets up suddenly, the need to rectify his mistake overwhelming.

“Din?”

Din’s hurrying putting on his clothes and doesn’t answer you.  He doesn’t hear you get up from the couch after him and grab a house cardigan from the back of one of the dining room chairs to throw over yourself, watching as he carries on to leave without saying a word.

“STOP!!”

You hardly ever yell.  And you never slam your hand down on your dining table so hard and loud it hurts, but you need to get Din’s attention somehow.  It works - Din’s shocked out of his automated movements and turns to face you.

“What are you doing, Din?” you look distressed, confused, but most of all, frightened by what you think you already know is happening.

“This was a mistake, pretty bird.”

His words cause you to recoil; your voice comes out tight, bordering on bitter, “What was a mistake, Din?  Telling me you loved me, that you lived for me?  Or sleeping with me?  Tell me, which mistake do you mean?” 

Din rushes forward; he’s fucking up all over, he can tell, and hurting you again is the very last thing he ever wanted to do, “No, baby – none of that was a mistake.  Being with you tonight has been a happiness I never thought I’d feel again.  Honestly, I didn’t think I deserved it and still don’t think I do.  The mistake was me somehow thinking that everything was behind us.  That I wouldn’t be putting your safety at risk by coming over here.”

He can’t possibly be doing this again, you’re incredulous, “You’re doing this again?  You’re going to leave?  And I don’t get a say in it?”

“Pretty bird, you don’t understand.”

“Make me understand, Din.”

“There’s something happening right now, a danger that’s closer to you than should ever be allowed.  And it’s because I’m here.  This is proof that I’m no good for you baby.”

“Din, how can you say that?  I love you.”

“And I have to keep you safe because I love you, too.”

“What you’re doing is breaking my heart, Din. This isn’t the only way - you have to trust me.”

“This isn’t about trust, pretty bird, it’s about your safety.”

“Of course it’s about trust, Din!  You don’t trust me to be able to handle some of the things in your life – things that you think I’m too delicate or ‘good’ for, whatever the fuck that means.  You don’t trust me so you don’t tell me anything or let me make any decisions, and that’s really fucking condescending and hurtful.  You have to trust me, Din!  You have to trust that you can show me parts of yourself and your world that maybe aren’t perfect or you aren’t that proud of and that I’m not going to leave!  You have to trust that I love you enough!”

The silence between the two of you is punctuated only by your shallow breathing from finishing your speech and the electric tension that now hums in the air.  Something in Din’s brain is awakening, yelling at him that there’s a truth in your words that he hasn’t had the courage to face – that other than your safety, he’s been worried that bringing you fully into his world and telling you everything, sharing in all the fears and dark parts, would scare you away.  That he’s been afraid that you would walk away, so he did it first.

Din doesn’t know if he’s ready to face this realization or its implications out loud, not when you’re looking at him with so much disappointment and anger.  Not when the phone in his pocket continues to buzz non-stop.

You’re at your wit’s end and throw out ludicrously, “So, what?  We stay apart until you deem it safe again?  Then what, we’re allowed to date until the next time you think it’s safer for me if you leave?  And then we just repeat this pattern forever?”

Din’s exasperated too, frustrated with the unexpected turn this evening has taken – at himself.  He throws his hands up in the air, “I don’t know, okay?  I just know it’s not safe for you to be my girl right now.  And as for later?  May not then either?  Maybe you just don’t wait for me.”

You freeze, the retort on the tip of your tongue that you’re supposed to be a team and that Din doesn’t get to choose for the both of you, dissipates from your shock at his last words, “Wait. What do you mean ‘don’t wait for you’?”

Din doesn’t immediately clarify so you press on, “You would be okay with that?  If I moved on with someone else? Is that what you want?”

Din wants to reassure you; it’s not what he meant, of course.  His heart would shatter if you were with someone else; he had only meant that he knew it was terribly unfair for you to have to wait for this situation to resolve itself, and he didn’t want to force you to be or assume that you were okay with it – but it had come out wrong.  He stops himself from explaining though; realizing with a punch to the gut that he could use this to give you a clean slate, a clean break from him.  You would hate him again – but it would remove the temptation to come see you in secret like tonight, endangering your safety every time he was too weak to stay away from you.  So, he says nothing.

You take his silence the way he intends, as confirmation that Din doesn’t want you anymore and your tears come fast and threaten to overflow.   You’re angry, confused, and hurt.  Again. 

The barrier you had put up earlier when you so logically decided to figure out your feelings once you figured out the truth comes crashing down and you think you’re going to drown in the tidal wave of emotions that swell and rise with being so casually tossed away again.  You feel like a fool, letting Din toy with your feelings (and your body) over and over.

“Din.  Is that what you want?  Do you just want us to be over?” you choke out.

Din’s expression is unreadable and he won’t make eye contact with you - but when he sighs, it’s the most devasting sound you’ve ever heard in your life. 

Your cheeks are wet and you feel yourself shaking.  The words that are blabbering out now hardly make sense and you don’t think you even mean half of them, but you aren’t thinking straight - you just know these words will sting and make Din feel as bad as you do right now, “Why did you come tonight, Din? For an easy fuck?  You knew you would find guaranteed pussy here, didn’t you?  I can’t blame you, I guess. I mean, if you know you always have a desperate slut you can use, someone who’s stupid enough to buy whatever lies you tell her to get her to give it up, why not, right?”

Suddenly aware of how exposed you are, you pull your cardigan tighter over your body and shrink away from Din.

Din reaches for you - this, he cannot have.  He cannot have you reducing yourself to just a worthless fuck when you’re his sun.  He loves you more than anything, would hang the moon for you; you’re the most incredible and precious thing in his life, “No, no… that’s not it.  Please, pretty bird, don’t…”

You pull away from his outreaching hand and say in a flat, dead tone, “I’m not your pretty bird anymore.” 

Even Din can see that he’s hit your limit - hurt you beyond repair and now you’ve shut down.  Shut him out.  Fighting ever fibre in his body to go to you, soothe you and try to  reassure you of his love, he hangs his head, “No. You’re right… you’re not.”

The two of you stand in silence, facing each other but worlds apart, for what is probably only a minute but feels like forever.  Finally, Din turns to the front door to leave; pausing just after turning the handle, he whispers, “I’m sorry”, before exiting your apartment and closing the door behind him.

Once in the hallway, Din hears the lock turn immediately, followed by the most devastating sound he’s ever heard.  You’re sobbing, loud enough that he can hear it through the door and he wants more than anything to kick down the door and sweep you into his arms, take it all back - comfort you with kisses and lightly chastise you for even considering for a moment that he could ever stop loving you. 

But he doesn’t.  It’s better this way, Din tells himself. 

The sound of your sobs follows Din as he races down the stairs, towards the danger that lurks too closer for comfort.  He’s more than ready to take out his distress on the bastards who had deigned to look upon you as someone to threaten, to hurt - or just some unfortunate Hutts who found themselves in the wrong neighbourhood tonight.  Din doesn’t much care.  Blinking back his tears and steeling his resolve with clenched fists, all Din knows is you won’t be the only person he hurts tonight – you’re just the only one who doesn’t deserve it.

Exactly one week later, you storm into brunch still angry, exhausted and hurt from your altercation with Din the Sunday before; hot tears brim along your lash line from the humiliation of having slept with Din only for him to leave you again, and your frustration at his dismissal of any attempt to talk out your issues.  The only sure-fire thing you’ve decided is that there will be no more secrets - no more half truths, no more protecting people from hard and ugly realities.  Sure, you would have much preferred if this was the road upon which you and Din were embarking, but in lieu of that, you decide that you can come clean with your friends.  You tell them about the Fett Family and Din’s old role, and what he seems to still do for the Family.  You tell your friends about Poe, Boba, Cass, the Hutts and the Pykes, and the Mandos and the Mods.  You tell them about all the security incidents from earlier in the year and the threats you only just learned of and about Din’s and your place in it all.  You tell them about your run-in with Vanessa and how your date with Mark went and about sleeping with Din last week.  You tell them everything that’s yours to tell and even somethings that aren’t because you’re done with pretending that these secrets are worth keeping and somehow worth your happiness.

Your friends are speechless; all the food, and shockingly the drinks, are untouched as you talk and only after you indicate you’re done with your recollection of how Din left you crying in your foyer, do they descend on you to offer their kind supportive words and loving hugs.  Once everyone is settled back in their seats and people’s emotions have leveled out a bit, Rory asks,

“Do you still love him?”

It’s not the question you expected from her, or from any of your friends really, and it truly deflates you as you lean back in your chair to contemplate your response.  The last week saw you primarily cataloguing Din’s transgressions against your heart; it’s a long list and it had kept your mind and heart fairly preoccupied.  You’re furious at him… but did his foolhardy actions change the man you believed he was?  The man you had loved?  You answer only what you’re sure of,

“It doesn’t matter.  It doesn’t seem to matter to him what I think or feel.  Din just does what he thinks is best.”

Your friends nod sympathetically, understanding you’re already fighting a seemingly endless battle between your head and your heart.  They thoughtfully put forth their opinions in between bites of their now cold dishes:

“No matter what his reasoning is, it doesn’t give him the right to jerk you around in the name of ‘your safety’.”

“Does he have a point though?  Is it dangerous to be with him? Are you scared?”

“Won’t the Family protect you?  Why is he acting like he’s the only one who cares about you?”

“I don’t like that he hurt you on purpose with that Vanessa nonsense.  That lie was so elaborate.”

“How many times does he think he can do this to you?”

“You deserve someone who is honest with you.  Someone who will treat you like an equal partner in everything.”

“He loves you so much.  It’s always been clear to us that you’re his whole world, babe.”

You agree with it all – these same thoughts have been running laps in your mind since the night Din closed your door behind him.  Din’s martyr-like approach to your safety did not sit well with you, especially when it sacrificed the wellbeing of your heart without so much as a consultation of your feelings; it’s crystal clear to you now that entirely too many lies and secrets had been justified and tolerated in the last several months and even your relationship prior.  Yes, you know how you feel about what Din did.

But how do you feel about him?  To a certain degree, you know you still love Din, but things just aren’t that simple anymore.  Given everything that’s happened, how can you feel about him?  You don’t know.

6 months ATN

Waiting until there’s a break in the traffic, you cross the street quickly, heading straight for the bookstore across from your office building.  Right away, you spot the display you’re looking for: the centre table for “Current Hot Reads” with Bea’s book right in the middle - you can’t help but grin widely.  Picking up four copies, you busy yourself for a few minutes straightening up the display - strategically stacking and propping up copies of your friend’s book so it stands out in a pleasing manner amongst the other titles.  When you stand back, satisfied, to review your work, a kind voice behind you says, “Are you the author, dear?” You turn to see an older woman in a delightfully ostentatious fur coat smiling at you.

Unable to keep the pride out of your voice, you beam, “Ha ha ha!  No, one of my best friends is!  I’m actually buying these as gifts to give out to our mutual girlfriends at dinner tonight!”

“Oh, that’s so lovely dear!  What a good friend you are!” the lady smiles, “What is the book about?”

“It’s a modern romance, childhood best friends turned lovers.  The first in her series!” you gush, ready to talk Bea up to the high heavens.

“Oh lovely!  My granddaughter loves romance novels, maybe I should get it for her?”

For a moment you simply imagine what the granddaughter might think when reading the smut her sweet nana bought her and you do your best to hold in your chuckle, “Tell you what.  I’m going to buy an extra copy and leave it at the cashier for you.  If you decide you don’t want it or prefer to buy a copy, just tell the cashier to pass it on to the next person who’s interested.”

“Oh dear, you don’t have to do that!”

“I know!  But I want to!  I can’t tell you how much it delights me to support my friend.  Please ask your granddaughter to help spread the word about the book and the author.  I know she’ll love it, it really is just that good,” you enthuse.

The older woman squeezes your hand in thanks as you pick up a fifth copy of Bea’s book; leaving her to read the jacket summary as you head to the cashier.  After giving the cashier the instructions for the last copy, you give the display another quick once over before leaving the bookstore, heading directly to dinner with a spring in your step.

---

Din sees you the moment you walk in.  For some reason, maybe a sixth sense, he had looked up at the bookstore front door before it opened, and there you were.  He hasn’t seen you since the night he left you crying in your apartment, the same night he sent half of the Hutt enforcements to the hospital; when he accepted this surveillance post for the day, he had half hoped he would see you.  You’re just as stunning and bright as the you he keeps in his memories, if not more so.

He had also seen the display of Bea’s books when he walked in and already picked up a copy to buy in support; he figured he would give it to Lisa.  Din watches you rearrange the display from behind the shelves, trying not to be a creep but unable to take his eyes off of you – wistfully, he recalls seeing you do the same thing on the day you first met; it’s no less charming now than it was then.  Listening with a smile as you talk excitedly to the older lady about Bea’s book, Din’s heart swells when he hears you offer to buy her granddaughter a copy.  You’re still you.  Sweet, generous, unassuming, and unflinchingly kind.

God, he misses you.

He’s been trying to put you out of his mind, of course; positive that he’s eradicated not only any goodwill or affectionate feeling you may have held for him a few months ago, but also any chance he had of ever being with you again.  Whereas before he kept away for your safety and his own self punishment, he does so now out of self preservation.  To steel himself for his future without you.

Din does, however, allow himself one photo of you.  It’s one that Paz took the night of the fight with Rotta Hutt.  Taken right after he’s scooped you up ringside, the shot shows only the back of Din’s head, but your face is on full display, filled with joy and adoration.  He looks at it everyday; trying not to long for you more than he already does, Din comes to regard it as motivation of sorts – this is what makes all his misery worth it, he thinks to himself.  You.  Happy.

And while he can’t bring himself to delete his photos of you off his phone, or even erase your old messages, Din never looks at them either.  He doesn’t deserve to.  Especially not the dirty texts and photos; he doesn’t have a right to see you that way anymore - as much as he misses you, Din won’t violate your privacy.  But on the days when the pressure, stress and Din’s own loneliness lead him to release his frustration while in the shower, he imagines a soft hand touching him and knows it’s yours.  The voice that he hears telling him how good it feels, he knows is yours.  The moans that ring in his ears as he furiously fucks his fist can only be yours.  And when he comes, choking out broken pants of I love you, I love you, I fucking loving you so much, those words are for you and you only.

Seven months ATN

Opening your guest room closet, you sigh to yourself. 

It’s time. 

You’ve been avoiding doing this, but not only is it long overdue, you’re also embarrassed at how anxious you’ve been to attempt this task.  It’s been two months since Din left you crying on your knees in the front foyer of your apartment and seven since you fled his apartment after believing he had cheated on you.  In that hazy first week, you had gone around the apartment grabbing anything that belonged to him and stuffed it into what ended up being an overflowing bin that you then shoved into the back of the guest room closet.  Out of sight, out of mind.

But you have guests coming to stay next week, and moreover, it bothers you how rude it is to have kept these belongings that aren’t yours.  It was one thing when Din had been a lying cheating bastard; but now that you know he hadn’t had any ill intent and was as much of a victim of his poor decisions as you are, it doesn’t feel right to hang on to these items.  Bringing home some flat packing boxes from the work mailroom, you assemble them first, trying to prolong actually having to go through your ex’s things.

Stop being a chicken shit, you chide yourself, it’s been months.  Get over it and get it over with. You pull the bin out of the closet and his smell, Din’s smell, immediately hits you when you when you start to take out the clothes.  You close your eyes and let yourself breathe in the familiar scent.  It’s as inviting as you remember and immediately brings his handsome visage to your mind.  When you open your eyes, they’re filled with tears.  Dammit.

You force yourself to work through your tears.  Fighting it at first but eventually allowing yourself to recall memories associated with Din’s items, you feel and expunge all the emotions you had hidden away like you had these belongings.  It’s cathartic and freeing, and once you’ve shed the tears you need, you make quick work of the task.  When you’ve filled the last box, you write a short note apologizing how long it’s taken to return these items and quickly tape up the boxes so that the contents are once again out of your sight.

---

The following weekend, you and Katie take a cab with the boxes to Din’s neighbourhood.  You don’t think you’re ready to see Din in person, but you think you can handle dropping off the boxes… at Peli’s.  Katie helps you carry the boxes from the taxi into the drycleaner’s and you ring the little bell Peli leaves out when she’s in the back working with the machines.  You see her bushy crown of curls before you do her inviting face, the smile she smiles when she sees you is brighter than the sun.  You feel warmed just seeing her again.

“Well, look who it is,” Peli grins, eyes full of genuine cheer and relief, “long time no see.”

Nodding, your heart feels a tug with how much you’ve missed Peli and all the other friends you made through Din who you haven’t seen in months, “Too long, Peli!”

“Glad you can admit you missed me,” she teases, holding absolutely nothing against you, “what can I do for you?  Don’t tell me those boxes are full of drycleaning?”

“Oh… no.  Could I ask you for a favour?” sheepish that the very first time you see Peli after such a long absence, you’re asking something her.

Peli’s good nature isn’t phased for even a second, “Of course!  Anything for you, love.”

Then as if some higher being heard your request before you had a chance to speak it, Paz walks through the front door of the drycleaners.  He’s just as surprised to see you as you are him, but readily leans in to give you and Katie welcoming hugs.

“Hi Lil’ Lady.  Whatcha doing here?”

You gesture to the boxes and look between Peli and Paz, “Just wanted to drop off Din’s things but…  I didn’t feel up to going to Mando’s.  Do you think I could trouble you to get these boxes to him?”

Peli looks shocked, and for a moment you wonder if it’s possible that she didn’t know that you and Din haven’t been together for over half a year now.  Paz saves you from the potentially long and awkward explanation by nodding with some sympathy, “No problem, I’ll carry them over.”

“Thank you, Paz.”

“No problem, Lil’ Lady,” Paz gives you a smile that looks regretful, maybe even sad.

You turn to go, but suddenly feel compelled to make one last request, “Please don’t tell Din you saw me?  I don’t want him thinking about me anymore.”  You say this without any malice or bitterness, though you’re not convinced it comes out that way.

When going through Din’s belongings, you were initially hard hit by the waves of sadness and grief from the loss of your relationship; but after letting the ache of your heart dull, you had surprising found comfort in a barrage of happy memories:

Din’s favourite basketball team shirt you slept in.  You had teased him mercilessly for how often he wore it, but showered him in compliments at how good he looked in those loud team colours every time.  When you explained to him what Pima cotton was and delighted in a sports shirt feeling so luxuriously soft, you noticed that Din started leaving it for you to wear for sleep – first only at his apartment, but before long, he “allowed” the shirt to migrate to your place.

That lime green sweater he wore the first time he was invited to girl’s Sunday brunch.  Bea had wanted to introduce the new guy she was dating and thought that having another boy at the table might make it less intimidating.  Din had gone and immediately clocked Gideon to be an asshole, but somehow managed to convey a polite, yet protective vibe throughout the meal.  When Bea broke up with that odious man a few weeks later, Din, invited back to brunch and coincidentally wearing the same sweater had been so supportive (“You deserve better than that self-absorbed blow hard”), even offering to “take care of him” for her.  You had quickly refused on Bea’s behalf, knowing what “take care” might actually mean, but it had cheered her up so much nonetheless.

His cozy oversized patterned jacquard cardigan that Din wore whenever it was nippier out than usual.  Large enough that it could envelope you while being worn, Din took every opportunity to do so - pressing you against his hard chest while wrapping the front around you to keep the chill away when you were out at the farmers’ market, waiting for the subway, or just standing on the sidewalk while Al finished sniffing his favourite spots.

And more – all the clothes and items you packed away had at least one memory associated with Din where he had made you feel warm, cared for, cherished.

How grateful and lucky you were that Din had loved you the way he did.

Yes, he had broken your heart, but you know that he himself didn’t get away unscathed – Din had also been destroyed by your breakup.  Having long since recognized the immature and empty things said during your last fight as your own emotional lashing out, you saw with more clarity how your own hurt and pain had sliced through Din’s already battle damage armour.  To be honest, you regret your words and how you left things with Din; though the way he did it was all wrong, Din had only ever loved you, cared for you and put you first in the way that he believed matter the most.  And he did so without fanfare, pomp or circumstance - expecting neither accolades nor acknowledgment, or even a hint of self satisfaction.

Your heart truly goes out to Din.  He so willingly carries the weight of the responsibility to take care of others, to put their well being over his own wants and desires; he sees it only as his duty and a mark of his honour to put himself last.  Din never gives himself leave to be selfish, despite being the most deserving for exactly that reason; as long as others are well taken care of, you know that Din would never complain or wish for more for himself.  And while your heart has done its share of mourning for yourself, it also breaks for Din – you know with certainty that he’s as devastated as you are, and yet, he also bears the guilt of having been the cause of your respective heartbreak; likely believing himself undeserving of any sympathy or comfort.

You remember what Boba had once said of Din, that he’s a caretaker through and through.  He attends to the needs of those around him and always has – thinking of the betterment of others, sometimes, and possibly even often, at the expense of his own.  But Din’s always done so happily - it was his duty and he performed it consistently, admirably.  And you remember that you had promised Boba that you would take care of Din right back.

Refusing to add to Din’s already heavy burden when it came to your breakup, you don’t want him to think about you more than he has to when he gets his belongings back; you know he will only spiral into more self blame wondering if you’re still mad or how much you hate him.  He will undoubtedly think about how you might be hurting, and then feel regret and guilt, disappointment or whatever else that eats at him.

So, you make Paz promise not to tell Din that he saw you, to say that Peli had called him over to get the boxes and you were already gone when he arrived.  The fierce look in your eyes tells Paz that you won’t relent and he acquiesces – you were prepared to fight him if necessary, the urge to protect Din where you still can burning brightly within your heart.

Quiet and heartfelt goodbyes are said and longer than needed hugs are dispensed before you and Katie leave Peli’s, arms now empty.  As the cab pulls away, you wave what you sadly think might be your last goodbye to two people you’ve also come to love and will miss terribly.

9 months ATN

Seeing Peli and Paz at the drycleaner’s is the last contact you have with Din’s world.

After nearly the better part of a year, it no longer feels strange that there are facets of a life you had come to embrace, that are no longer familiar - like bringing baked goods down to Mando’s, or being part of the celebratory group when a Mando’s boxer wins a title.  Making a normal portion size of garlic knots is once again the norm.

Periodically, it might feel unsettling when you remember that you are or were, at least at one time, under threat, and that there are unseen eyes on you, both friendly and unfriendly.  But you never see anyone or any actual evidence of this so there’s not much you can dwell on.  Who’s to say the circumstances of the situation haven’t changed or if you’re even on anyone’s radar anymore?  It’s likely you’ve been forgotten by now and you leave these thoughts at that.

With time, you go from thinking of Din constantly, to less frequently, and now only periodically.  You don’t think you’ll ever quite forget Din.  He had loved you fiercely, of that you were certain, and in turn, you had loved him back just as hard.  He was undoubtedly, a great love of your life.  You don’t think that type of connection is easy to find, nor would you attempt to try and do so again – the way Din had seen you so completely and how you had felt being his was not a feeling you think you’ll let go of any time soon. 

But the price for that type of love was one that you hadn’t been prepared to pay – adherence to some creed or code of honour that was willing to sacrifice your heart wasn’t something you could open yourself up to again.  Not even for that kind of love.  But it didn’t mean you couldn’t look back on it with fondness and remember Din as a man you admired adamantly and would continue to hold up as one of the best men you’ve ever known.

He was kind.  Protective.  Caring and loyal. 

The strength of his character and his generous nature live on in your grateful heart.

Some of your happiest memories will always be ones that you shared with Din.  He had, as was his highest priority, made you feel safe and cherished; despite how it all ended, you knew his motivations and the intentions of his heart to be pure - he had only ever wanted the best for you.  Din’s easy way of making you laugh, supporting you in all your endeavors and of lightening your mental and physical load, all while making you feel like the most special person in any room, were not easily forgotten.  Nor his integrity, considerate nature and the gentleness of his touch.  A lover and a fighter – Din was a rare combo indeed.

You think you’ll love Din until your dying day, but you can’t pine for him anymore.

Had you forgiven him?  Hardly.  But forgiveness wasn’t necessary. 

Forgiveness implied that you needed something to change, to be acknowledged, in order to move forward, and that just simply wasn’t the case.  You neither forgave him or were looking to forgive Din; you didn’t expect there to be a continuation of your story and so, as far as you were concerned, neither of you owed anything further to the other, including forgiveness.  You’re at peace with where the pages of your love story have permanently fallen open; having reread those finally passages a million times, you’ve worked through your grief of having to put Din and your relationship behind you - what remains is only a nostalgic sort of affection and maybe wistfulness.

Your life has gone on without him, but it had always been full before you met Din and it remains so after him: full of friends, hobbies, Alfredo, accomplishment and pride in your work, and everything else your undoubtedly privileged life has to offer.  That’s probably the best word to describe it.  These days, when you do think of Din, it can be without bitterness or disappointment, because you do so only with genuine gratitude; not everyone will have the good fortune of being loved so wholly, so generously and so fearsomely, albeit it had only been for a little while.  Yes, it takes no great effort to admit: it had been a privilege to be loved by Din Djarin.

It’s been a good day.  Great even.  All your meetings finish on time (!), and no one on your team, yourself included, had extra work assigned at the last minute – you’re all able to leave ON TIME.

Stepping out of your office building, you can’t quite believe it – you haven’t seen this side of 5:30 since… you were a junior?  No, that’s an exaggeration, but it’s been a long time for sure.

You and your colleagues exchange excited hugs, marveling at your luck; a few even joke that you should all prepare to pay for this tomorrow before laughing and each going in your separate directions.

Pausing for a moment where you stand, you contemplate maybe popping into the bookstore across the street before heading home when your eyes are drawn to a hulking figure that sits on one of the courtyard benches directly facing your office.  Despite his size and striking profile, the man’s presence isn’t terribly imposing, but it is a wonder that you hadn’t notice him until now.

You lock eyes with the man, not ready to believe he’s really there, when he gives you a tentative smile along with a small wave of the bouquet of peonies that he holds in his hand.

Din.

Thanks so much again to anyone who has read this far in the series with me - I love you all so much! Your kind words and encouragement really motivated me to finish this chapter a bit earlier than I had anticipated! I'm still on the cruise, so I'm just posting this when the ship's wifi is strong 🤣 so adding a few tags for those who have expressed an interest in the story (if you don't want to be tagged, please tell me!):

@tuquoquebrute @furiousmushroom @cheekychaos28 @72scsuze @nerdieforpedro

@toobsessedsstuff @whirlwindrider29 @inept-the-magnificent @mellymbee @that1nerd-20

@hipabbster23 @bitccchmood @bigbutchenergee @rainbowcat164 @the-strawberrythief

@johnssherlock221 @misstokyo7love @vivian-pascal @florxdexcerezo @fanficlover1414

@rarachelchel @heartbrokenlilbitch-nef @jeewrites @sunnytuliptime @kulekehe

@bebsjo @yopossum @cartonkid1200 @rav3n-pascal22

[engeorged]

Harry's Stag - Part One

As I stepped out of the taxi, the cool Amsterdam air washed over me, and I couldn’t help but smile. The canals, the narrow streets, the lively hum of the city—it was just what I needed. A lads’ weekend with my best mates, a chance to unwind before I marry the man of my dreams.

I glanced at the guys, a wave of affection washing over me. Jim and I had been mates since we were kids, practically growing up together. Tall, lean, with that rugged, outdoorsy vibe and piercing blue eyes that seemed to cut through any nonsense, Jim was the steady one—the rock who always kept us grounded.

Banning and Noel came into our lives during university when we all played rugby together. Banning, with his quiet confidence and sharp mind, was always thinking a few steps ahead. He had this knack for coming up with a plan, making sure we stayed out of trouble and found our way home in one piece. Then there’s Noel—scruffy, blonde, and a bit shorter than the rest of us, but with a cheeky grin that could charm his way out of any mess he managed to get himself into. He was the joker of the group, ensuring we were never bored.

And then there’s me, Harry, the soon-to-be groom, the guy who’s somehow managed to land the most amazing man in the world. Jason is everything I’ve ever wanted—6’5, blonde, and brilliant, working in finance but with a heart of gold. He’s got this mix of confidence and kindness that makes me fall for him all over again every time I see him. I’m the luckiest guy on the planet, and I know it.

But right now, all I want is to forget about the wedding planning and just enjoy this weekend with the guys. We’ve been through so much together—high school dramas, university antics, and everything life has thrown at us since. This weekend is our chance to let loose, to celebrate before everything changes.

The morning light filtered through the curtains as I woke up, feeling the familiar buzz of excitement. Today was going to be one for the books. After a quick shower, I headed downstairs with the guys to tackle the hotel’s breakfast buffet. I’d always seen buffets as a bit of a challenge—something I’d perfected during our rugby trips in uni when the lads and I would try to outdo each other with how much we could eat.

The spread was impressive: stacks of pancakes, sizzling sausages, crispy bacon, eggs done every way imaginable, and fresh pastries that looked like they’d come straight out of a bakery. My stomach growled in anticipation, and I grabbed a plate, ready to dive in.

Jim, always the early riser, was already at the buffet, piling food onto his plate. “Morning, mate,” he said with a grin. “Hope you’re hungry.”

“You know me,” I replied, grabbing a bit of everything and then some. “Never one to turn down a good breakfast.”

We settled at a table, and I started working through my plate, enjoying the food and the banter. Before I could even make a dent in my meal, Noel appeared with a plate stacked high with more food. “Mate, you’ve got to try these pancakes,” he said, dropping them onto my plate without waiting for a reply.

I laughed, not thinking much of it. “Alright, alright, keep them coming.”

Banning, ever the strategist, chimed in as he sat down. “You’re missing out on the scrambled eggs. Here, have some more,” he said, adding a generous portion to my plate.

As we ate, the conversation flowed, and I found myself reminiscing about our old rugby trips. “Remember that all-you-can-eat steakhouse in Leeds?” I asked, chuckling. “I think I put away enough to feed a small army that night.”

Jim nodded, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Yeah, and you still managed to play the next day. You’ve always had a hollow leg when it comes to food.”

They kept the food coming, and I kept eating, not really noticing how often one of them would toss something extra onto my plate. I was too caught up in the nostalgia, the friendly competition from our uni days, and the general excitement of the weekend.

But as I started on my third plate, I felt a familiar tightness in my stomach. The kind that crept in during those old eating challenges when I’d push myself just a bit too far. My belly was starting to feel heavy, the waistband of my jeans pressing uncomfortably against my skin. I shifted in my seat, trying to ease the growing discomfort.

Still, I wasn’t one to back down from a challenge—even a self-imposed one. I kept eating, even as my stomach began to bloat, pushing out slightly against my shirt. Each bite was a little slower, the food sitting heavily in my gut. I could feel my belly rounding out, the once-flat surface curving just a bit more with each mouthful.

“Feeling full yet?” Jim asked an innocent enough question, but there was a twinkle in his eye.

“A bit,” I admitted, patting my stomach, which was now firm and slightly swollen. “But you know me—never one to quit while I’m ahead.”

The guys exchanged quick glances, subtle but not lost on me. I shrugged it off, thinking they were just reminiscing about old times like I was. But deep down, I had a nagging feeling that they were up to something. Still, I was too focused on the food and the fun to really care.

As I polished off the last of my pancakes, the tightness in my belly became more pronounced. I leaned back in my chair, rubbing my slightly rounded stomach, feeling the pressure building inside. Regret started to creep in—a familiar sensation from those rugby days when I’d pushed my limits a bit too far. My shirt stretched a little tighter across my middle, and I couldn’t help but wonder if I should’ve shown some restraint.

But then I caught myself. I’d eaten way more than this before, especially during those wild university days. This was nothing compared to some of the eating challenges I’d taken on—and won. A bit of bloat wasn’t going to slow me down. I could handle it, no problem.

With that in mind, I shrugged off the discomfort. It was just breakfast, after all, and we had a whole day ahead of us. “Right, lads,” I said, standing up and stretching, trying to shake off the heaviness in my gut. “What’s next on the agenda?”

Jim clapped me on the back, and I could feel the tension in my overstuffed stomach as he did. “Let’s head out and explore, mate. We’ve got a full day ahead of us.”

I nodded, determined to push through the fullness. I reminded myself that this was all part of the fun, and I could definitely handle more. With one last glance at the table, I followed the guys out the door, ready to see what the day had in store.

As we headed out into the bustling streets of Amsterdam, the food still sitting heavily in my stomach, I told myself I was just being paranoid. These guys were my best friends—they wouldn’t pull anything on me, especially not right before my wedding.

After finishing breakfast, we decided to take in some of the sights. Amsterdam was a beautiful city, and I was excited to explore it with my best mates. The weather was perfect—clear skies and a gentle breeze, making it an ideal day for wandering around.

We started by visiting some of the city's iconic spots, like the Anne Frank House and the Van Gogh Museum. But as we strolled along the canals and through the narrow streets, I could feel the heaviness in my belly from the massive breakfast easing a bit. By late morning, we found ourselves at one of the bustling local markets. The place was alive with vibrant colours, delicious smells, and the chatter of vendors selling everything from fresh produce to local delicacies. It was the kind of place where you could easily lose track of time, wandering from stall to stall, sampling the best that Amsterdam had to offer.

"Harry, check this out!" Banning called out, waving me over to a stall where a vendor was selling fresh stroopwafels, still warm from the griddle. He handed me one, and before I could even think about whether I was hungry, I found myself biting into the sweet, caramel-filled treat. It was delicious, the perfect balance of chewy and crunchy, and despite the fullness I still felt, I had to admit it was hard to resist.

"How about some cheese?" Noel chimed in, appearing beside me with a small platter of local Dutch cheeses. He popped a piece into my mouth before I could protest, grinning as I chewed. The rich, creamy flavours melted on my tongue, and I couldn’t help but smile at how good it tasted.

As we moved through the market, the guys made sure I didn’t miss a thing. Every few steps, they’d find something new for me to try—a slice of fresh apple pie here, a handful of chocolate-covered nuts there. They seemed to be in a competition to see who could find the most delicious treats, and I was the unwitting contestant.

“Harry, you’ve got to try these!” Jim called out, holding up a tray of poffertjes, tiny Dutch pancakes dusted with powdered sugar. He handed me the tray, and before I knew it, I was popping the fluffy little pancakes into my mouth, one after another.

With each bite, my belly grew heavier, the tightness from breakfast now back and mixed with the new wave of food. But the guys kept bringing me more, their excitement and enthusiasm contagious. They seemed to be enjoying themselves, watching as I dutifully sampled everything they put in front of me.

At one point, I realised I was starting to feel a bit overwhelmed by it all. “Guys, I think I’m good for now,” I said, laughing nervously as I held up a hand to stop another treat from making its way into my mouth.

“Fuck that!” Banning said, laughing. “We’re just getting started. You’ve got to experience everything, mate!”

Despite my growing discomfort, I couldn’t help but go along with it. After all, this was supposed to be a weekend of indulgence, and I didn’t want to be the one to spoil the fun. So I kept eating, letting the guys guide me from stall to stall, each new bite adding to the growing pressure in my belly.

By the time we were ready to leave the market, I could barely keep track of everything I’d eaten. My stomach felt impossibly full, a heavy, warm weight pressing against my waistband. As we walked away, I noticed the guys exchanging amused glances, but they didn’t say anything, and I didn’t push it.

As we left the market, I was feeling stuffed from all the sampling, but the guys weren't done with me yet. Just as we were about to head back towards the city centre, Banning spotted a stall selling fresh pastries. The aroma of warm, buttery dough filled the air, making my mouth water despite the heaviness already sitting in my gut.

“Hold up, lads,” Banning said, veering off toward the stall. “We can’t leave without taking some of these with us!”

Before I could protest, he was at the counter, ordering a large bag of assorted pastries—croissants, danishes, and something that looked like a massive cinnamon roll, all warm and fresh from the oven.

“Here you go, Harry,” he said, shoving the bag into my hands with a grin. “Something to snack on as we walk.”

I chuckled, trying to hide my unease at the thought of eating anything more. “You sure you guys don’t want to share these?”

“Oh, we’ll help,” Jim said, but I noticed the sly smile on his face. “But you’ve got to lead the charge, mate. You’re the groom, after all.”

With no real way to refuse without seeming like a party pooper, I sighed and reached into the bag. The croissant I pulled out was soft and flaky, practically melting in my hands. I took a bite, the buttery richness spreading across my tongue, and I had to admit—it was damn good.

As we walked, I found myself nibbling on the pastries, more out of habit than hunger. The guys encouraged me with every bite, grabbing a pastry here and there, but always making sure the majority of them ended up in my hands.

By the time we reached our next destination, the bag was nearly empty, and I felt like I was carrying a lead weight in my belly. The waistband of my jeans was digging into my skin, and I subtly tried to adjust it to relieve some of the pressure. The guys, of course, were loving every minute of it, exchanging knowing looks as I dutifully finished off the last pastry. 

I couldn’t shake the feeling that they were up to something, but for now, all I could focus on was the heavy, bloated sensation in my gut. It was hard to believe I could still stand, let alone keep eating, but with the lads around, I knew there was no way I’d get out of it. 

After leaving the market with my belly full of pastries, we found ourselves wandering through the winding streets of Amsterdam again. The city was buzzing with life, tourists mingling with locals, and the smell of food and drink filled the air. My stomach was still groaning from all the food I'd packed into it, but when the guys suggested stopping for some beers, I figured it might help take the edge off.

“Let’s hit up a few local breweries,” Jim suggested, his eyes lighting up. “We can’t leave Amsterdam without trying some of the best beer in the world.”

I agreed, hoping that a few drinks might dull the ache in my overstuffed belly. The first brewery we hit was small and cosy, with wooden tables and an impressive selection of local brews. The guys ordered a round of pints, and I gladly accepted mine, taking a long, deep sip. The cold, bitter beer slid down my throat, and I could feel it spreading warmth through my chest.

The first pint went down easily, and for a moment, I almost forgot how full I was. The alcohol worked its magic, numbing the uncomfortable pressure in my stomach. The guys were in high spirits, laughing and joking as we finished our beers and moved on to the next brewery.

By the time we reached the third stop, I was starting to feel a bit more relaxed. The bloated sensation in my gut was still there, but the beer had taken the edge off. Each point seemed to settle on top of the food in my belly, adding to the warm, fuzzy feeling spreading through my body.

The guys were keeping pace with me, ordering pints at each stop and making sure I always had one in my hand. I knew I should slow down, but the alcohol was doing its job, and I found myself caring less and less about how full I was. Instead, I focused on enjoying the moment, the camaraderie, and the laughter of my best friends.

At the fifth brewery, the drinks started to catch up with me. My head was buzzing, and the bloated feeling in my stomach was returning, more pronounced than before. I tried to keep up with the guys, but I could feel my belly straining against the waistband of my jeans, each sip of beer adding to the swelling pressure.

I glanced down at my gut, now noticeably rounder and heavier than it had been earlier in the day. The fullness was almost overwhelming, but the beers had numbed me enough that I could push through it, at least for a while longer.

Jim noticed me looking at my stomach and clapped me on the back. “You alright, mate? You’re keeping up like a champ!”

I managed a grin, even though I could feel the tightness in my belly with every breath. “Yeah, just feeling it a bit,” I admitted.

“Don’t worry, we’re almost done with the tour,” Noel said, raising his glass. “Just a couple more, and then we can grab some food to soak it all up.”

The mention of food made my stomach churn, but I pushed the thought aside and lifted my pint in a toast. As we moved on to the final stop, I could feel the beers sloshing around inside me, mingling with the pastries and everything else I’d consumed that day. 

But the guys were right—the beers had dulled the ache, at least for now, and I was too buzzed to care about what might come next.

By the time we reached the final brewery on our tour, my belly had become an undeniable presence—both to me and, I suspected, to anyone who glanced in my direction. It felt like a boulder, heavy and firm, pressing outwards against the fabric of my shirt. The once-flat surface was now a taut, rounded dome, the skin stretched tight and smooth. Every step I took made it sway slightly, a reminder of just how much I’d eaten.

I rubbed my swollen middle, trying to ease the growing pressure. Suddenly, a deep belch forced its way up, loud and unexpected. The guys turned, grinning, and immediately erupted into cheers.

“There he is!” Noel laughed, clapping me on the back, which only made my belly slosh uncomfortably. “That’s the spirit, mate!”

Another belch rumbled up, and this time I didn’t even try to hold it back. The guys whooped and cheered even louder, egging me on as I laughed along with them.

“Keep ‘em coming!” Banning shouted, raising his pint in a mock toast.

I shook my head, grinning as yet another burp escaped me. The relief was temporary, though, as the pressure inside me continued to build. Every step made my belly jiggle slightly, and I could feel just how bloated I was becoming. The gas from all that beer wasn’t helping, either, making me feel even more stuffed than I already was.

I couldn’t help but enjoy the moment. The lads were loving it, and there was something satisfying about knowing I could still outdo them, just like in the old days. Even if my stomach felt like it was about to burst, the cheers and laughter made it all worth it.

Despite the discomfort, there was a part of me that was fascinated by how much my body had changed in just a few short hours. My normally lean frame had been overtaken by this massive, swollen belly, and I couldn’t help but marvel at the sheer volume I’d managed to pack away.

The guys noticed, too. I caught Banning’s eye as he glanced at my gut, and he grinned, clearly impressed. “That’s one hell of a belly, Harry,” he said, his voice full of admiration. “You’ve really outdone yourself today.”

Jim nodded in agreement, raising his pint in a toast. ��To Harry’s belly,” he said with a laugh. “May it keep growing!”

The others joined in, their laughter filling the air as I gave a half-hearted chuckle. I could feel my stomach stretching even more as I took another sip of beer, the pressure building to a point that was almost unbearable.

As we finished our drinks, I leaned back in my chair, trying to find some relief from the tightness. My belly was now a prominent, round sphere, pressing outwards with a fullness that I couldn’t ignore. It was a strange mix of discomfort and pride—I’d never seen myself like this before, and despite the ache, there was something almost amusing about the sheer size of my belly.

By early afternoon, I was starting to feel the effects of our beer-filled morning. My head was buzzing pleasantly, and my steps were just a bit slower as we made our way through the bustling streets. I was thinking about suggesting a quick stop back at the hotel to freshen up, but before I could, Noel was already leading us toward our next destination.

“We’ve got a special lunch spot lined up, Harry,” he said, slinging an arm around my shoulders. “Proper local place. None of that touristy crap.”

I was too relaxed to argue, letting him steer me down a side street and into a large, rustic-looking restaurant. The inside was all dark wood and heavy beams, with long communal tables and the rich smell of roasting meat filling the air. My stomach rumbled in spite of the heaviness I was already feeling, and I figured a good meal might help soak up some of the beer.

We found a spot at the end of one of the tables, and Noel didn’t even bother with menus. “We’ll take four of your specials,” he told the waitress with a wink, and she nodded, jotting it down before disappearing into the kitchen.

I leaned back in my chair, glancing around at the other diners. Most of them were locals, digging into plates piled high with food, glasses of cider clinking together in toasts. It was lively, warm, and exactly the kind of place that made you feel at home, even halfway across the world.

“So, what’s the special?” I asked, eyeing Noel suspiciously.

“Wait and see,” he grinned, taking a long pull from the glass of cider that had just been set in front of him. “You’re gonna love it.”

Moments later, the food arrived, and my eyes widened as the waitress set a huge platter in front of each of us. There, in the centre, was a whole roasted chicken, crispy and golden, surrounded by a mountain of fresh bread and a full litre of cider.

“Bloody hell,” I muttered, staring at the feast. It looked incredible, but there was no way I could finish all that. “You guys trying to kill me?”

Banning smirked, already tearing into his bread. “Consider it a challenge.”

“Come on, Harry,” Jim chimed in, pulling a hunk of chicken off the bone. “You said you were hungry this morning.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t mean all day,” I laughed, even as I reached for my fork. The smell of the roasted chicken was too tempting to resist, and I figured I could at least make a dent in it.

We dug in, the conversation flowing easily between bites of juicy chicken and sips of the strong, dry cider. The bread was warm and crusty, perfect for soaking up the rich drippings from the chicken, and despite my full stomach, I found myself going back for more, over and over.

The guys were relentless, though, nudging the bread my way whenever I slowed down, refilling my cider glass before I’d even finished it. Every time I thought I was done, Jim would carve off another piece of chicken and drop it onto my plate, or Noel would push the bread basket back toward me with a grin.

“You’ve got to try this with the cider,” Noel insisted, handing me a slice of bread slathered in the drippings. “Trust me, it’s worth it.”

I took the bread, biting into it with a mix of enjoyment and trepidation. It was delicious, of course, but I was starting to reach the point where every bite felt like a struggle. My stomach was stretched tight, the combination of beer, cider, and food weighing me down.

But there was something infectious about their enthusiasm, the way they kept the mood light and fun, and I couldn’t bring myself to say no. These were my best mates, and they were making sure I had the time of my life. What was a little discomfort in the grand scheme of things?

“Only the best for you,” Noel added with a wink, though there was a glint in his eye that made me wonder just how much more they had planned for me.

After finishing the meal, I leaned back in my chair, feeling utterly stuffed. My usually firm belly was now uncomfortably stretched, the tightness pressing against my shirt. The button on my jeans felt like it was about to pop, and I had to loosen my belt a notch to alleviate some of the pressure.

The full feeling wasn’t just in my stomach but seemed to radiate through my entire body. Every bite of the juicy chicken and every piece of bread had added to the bloated sensation, and the cider had only intensified it. My stomach was protruding noticeably, an unfamiliar softness replacing the tight abs I’d worked so hard to maintain. It felt heavy, like a weight pressing down from within.

I looked around at my friends, trying to ignore the discomfort, but the sight of their grins and the way they patted their own full bellies didn’t help. “I think I might have overdone it,” I admitted with a chuckle, rubbing my distended stomach.

“No way, mate,” Jim said, giving me a friendly thump on the back. “You’re just getting into the spirit of things.”

“Yeah, you’ve got to stay in top form,” Noel added, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “You don’t want to be the one to miss out.”

Despite the lighthearted teasing, I could barely move, feeling the fullness with every breath. I glanced down at my bulging belly, the fabric of my shirt straining against the roundness. It was a far cry from the trim figure I was used to seeing.

As we finally left the restaurant, I had to walk slowly, my steps deliberate and careful. Each movement reminded me of just how much I’d eaten, and I knew that if I didn’t get some relief soon, the discomfort would only grow. But with the guys still in high spirits, I knew the day was far from over, and whatever they had planned next, I’d have to muster the energy to keep up.

As we left the restaurant, the afternoon started to blur together. The combination of food and cider had left me pleasantly tipsy, and the usual sharpness of my thoughts had softened. My bloated stomach felt heavy, but the excitement of the city kept me moving, albeit at a slower pace.

After the epic lunch, I was convinced I couldn't possibly eat another bite. My stomach was so full and bloated that it felt like a lead weight was strapped to me, each step making my distended gut jiggle slightly under my shirt.

We started walking again, heading toward the canals for a leisurely afternoon tour. The sun was shining, reflecting off the water as we strolled along the cobblestone streets. I tried to focus on the sights—the charming, narrow buildings, the boats gliding by—but the heavy, stuffed feeling in my gut was impossible to ignore. Every step made me acutely aware of just how much space my belly was taking up, stretching my shirt tight across the firm, rounded expanse.

We hadn’t gone far before we passed a street vendor selling fresh Bitterballen. The savoury aroma of deep-fried goodness filled the air, making my stomach rumble despite the fullness. Bitterballen are traditional Dutch snacks, deep-fried balls filled with a rich, creamy beef or veal ragout, crispy on the outside and soft on the inside. They’re often enjoyed with a dollop of mustard.

Noel, ever the enthusiast, was already haggling with the vendor before I could even process what was happening. “Harry’s got to try these!” he said, handing over a few euros and grabbing a serving of the hot, golden balls.

“Mate, I’m so full I can barely move,” I protested weakly, but Noel just grinned and handed me a paper cone filled with Bitterballen.

“Come on, you’ve got room for one more,” he said, winking. “It’s part of the experience.”

I took the cone and popped one of the Bitterballen into my mouth. The crispy exterior gave way to a rich, creamy filling that was both indulgent and comforting. Despite the tightness in my belly, the flavour was irresistible. With each bite, I could feel the food settling heavily on top of everything else I’d eaten, adding to the relentless pressure in my gut.

We continued along the canal, and it wasn’t long before Jim spotted another vendor—this time selling churros dusted with cinnamon sugar. He practically sprinted over, eager to buy a bag for me before Banning could get there first.

“Here you go, Harry,” Jim said, thrusting the warm bag into my hands. “You’ve got to keep your energy up!”

I stared at the churros, my stomach groaning in protest at the mere thought of eating more. But the guys were watching me expectantly, their excitement palpable. I couldn’t let them down, so I forced myself to take a bite.

The churro was crisp on the outside, soft on the inside, and coated with just the right amount of cinnamon sugar. It was delicious, but as I swallowed, I felt my belly swell even more, the tightness becoming almost unbearable. Each bite seemed to expand my gut further, stretching the skin to its limits.

“Harry, you’re a machine!” Banning laughed, clapping me on the back as I forced down the last of the churros. “I don’t know how you’re doing it.”

Neither did I. My stomach was now so full that it was starting to feel rock-hard, a firm, rounded dome that pushed out from under my shirt with every breath. The waistband of my jeans was cutting painfully into my sides, and I could feel my skin pulling tight over the swollen mass of my belly. I wanted to stop, to sit down and let my overstuffed gut settle, but the guys weren’t having any of it.

We passed another vendor, this one selling warm, cheesy croquettes, and before I could even protest, Banning had bought a handful and was offering them to me.

“Last ones, I promise,” he said with a mischievous grin, though I could tell by the look in his eyes that he was far from finished.

I took one, biting into the crispy, gooey centre, and immediately felt another surge of fullness. My stomach was now a tight, distended ball, and each bite made it feel like I was stretching it to the breaking point. But the guys kept egging me on, practically shoving the croquettes into my hands as we walked.

By the time we finally finished the canal tour, my belly was truly enormous—a swollen, overfilled sphere that jutted out in front of me, heavy and round. The tightness was almost unbearable, and I could barely stand up straight, the weight of my gut pulling me forward with every step. 

And yet, despite it all, I couldn’t help but laugh along with the guys, the absurdity of the situation hitting me. My friends were practically fighting over who got to feed me next, and I was helpless to stop them. My once-lean frame had been transformed into something out of a cartoon, my shirt now riding up to expose the pale, stretched skin of my bloated belly.

As we headed back toward the city centre, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was far from over. The day was still young, and the guys seemed determined to see just how much more they could cram into me. And as much as I wanted to protest, I knew deep down that I wasn’t going to stop them.

By the time the afternoon sun started to dip, I was struggling. Every step felt like a monumental effort, the heavy, swollen mass of my belly swaying in front of me, throwing off my balance. It had gone from feeling full and stretched to being outright painful, a tight, solid ball that was almost too much to bear. The guys were still in high spirits, laughing and joking as we walked, but I was finding it hard to keep up. 

"Guys," I groaned, finally coming to a stop and placing a hand on my distended gut. "I need a break. Can we head back to the hotel for a bit? Just a quick snooze, let my stomach settle."

I was expecting some pushback, but surprisingly, they all nodded in agreement. Maybe they could see the strain on my face, or maybe they were just ready for a break too. Either way, we turned in the direction of the hotel, and I started to imagine the sweet relief of lying down and letting my poor, overworked belly rest.

But of course, it wasn’t going to be that simple.

As we rounded a corner, we passed a small, bustling shop with a line of people snaking out the door. The smell of fried potatoes and various toppings filled the air, and Jim’s eyes lit up when he spotted the sign.

“Wait a second,” he said, grabbing my arm and pointing toward the shop. “This is the place I’ve been telling you about! They make these famous fries with all sorts of toppings. We’ve got to try it.”

I felt a knot of dread tighten in my already cramped stomach. “Jim, I’m seriously about to burst here. I don’t think I can fit anything else in.”

But Jim wasn’t having it. “Come on, Harry, you can’t come all the way to Amsterdam and not try this. It’s part of the experience! We’ll just get one big platter to share, no big deal.”

Banning and Noel were already nodding along enthusiastically, and before I could argue any further, they were steering me toward the door. Inside, the place was a fry-lover’s paradise—massive trays of golden fries, each topped with a ridiculous amount of extras, from melted cheese to pulled pork, jalapeños, and creamy sauces.

We ordered the biggest platter they had, a monstrosity as wide as the table itself, piled high with fries and every topping imaginable. It was the sort of thing meant for a group of a dozen, not four guys who had already been eating all day. The sight of it alone made my stomach lurch in protest.

I tried to push back. “Guys, seriously, this is insane. I can’t eat all this.”

But Banning grinned at me, eyes twinkling with mischief. “We’ll help, don’t worry. But you’ve got to at least give it a shot, Harry. Think of it as a challenge.”

I knew there was no way out, not with all three of them looking at me like that. So, with a resigned sigh, I picked up a fork and dug in.

The first few bites were delicious, the crispy fries and rich toppings a perfect combination. But with every mouthful, I could feel my stomach stretching further, pushing against my waistband and straining the limits of my shirt. The tightness that had been a constant presence all day was now bordering on unbearable, a pressure that made it hard to focus on anything other than the sheer fullness of my gut.

Still, the guys kept urging me on, and somehow, I kept going. They were making a show of eating their share, but it was clear that most of the food was ending up in front of me. Every time I slowed down, they’d shove another forkful of loaded fries in my direction, laughing and cheering me on like it was some sort of competition.

“Harry’s taking the lead!” Noel shouted at one point, and the others whooped in agreement. 

I felt like I was in a daze, barely able to comprehend what I was doing as I continued to eat. My belly was now so bloated that it was pressing against the edge of the table, a round, firm dome that seemed to be growing larger with each bite. My shirt was stretched tight across the distended curve of my gut, and I could feel the seams straining with every breath.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I dropped my fork, unable to eat another bite. The platter was mostly empty, but my stomach felt like it was about to burst. I leaned back in my chair, groaning as the pressure in my belly intensified. It was a strange mix of pain and satisfaction, the kind of fullness that made it impossible to do anything but sit there and let my body digest.

The guys, of course, were loving it. They were all grins and high-fives, clearly proud of themselves for pushing me to this point.

“You’re a legend, Harry,” Banning said, clapping me on the back with a laugh. “I don’t know how you did it.”

I didn’t either. All I knew was that my belly was now so swollen and distended that I could barely move. It jutted out in front of me like a solid, round ball, the skin stretched tight and smooth over the massive bulge. I could feel every inch of it, the fullness pressing down on my lungs and making it hard to breathe, let alone think.

As we finally left the fry shop and started heading back to the hotel, I could barely keep up, my gait slow and awkward as I tried to accommodate the heavy mass of my gut. It felt like I was carrying a bowling ball strapped to my stomach, the weight of it pulling me forward with every step.

And yet, as uncomfortable as I was, there was a part of me that couldn’t help but marvel at the sheer size of my belly. I’d never been this full in my life, never even imagined it was possible to eat this much. It was almost impressive in a way, and despite everything, I found myself laughing along with the guys as we made our way back to the hotel.

By the time we finally made it back to the hotel, I was exhausted. My belly was so full and heavy that each step felt like a challenge, and the thought of just lying down was the only thing keeping me going. As we entered the room, the guys were still buzzing with energy, laughing and recounting the day’s events, but I could hardly focus on their words. All I could think about was getting out of my too-tight clothes and giving my aching stomach some relief.

I headed straight for the bathroom, barely pausing to acknowledge the banter going on behind me. Closing the door, I leaned against the sink for a moment, taking a deep breath as I let the tension drain from my shoulders. Then, with a grunt of discomfort, I began the laborious task of peeling off my clothes.

First, I unbuttoned my jeans, which had been digging into my sides for hours. The moment the button popped open, my belly surged forward, free from its confines at last. I couldn’t help but gasp slightly at the sensation—the relief was immediate, but the sheer weight of my gut was startling. I tugged the waistband down over my hips, letting the jeans fall to the floor, before yanking off my shirt, which had been stretched to its limits.

Once I was finally free of my clothes, I turned to face the mirror, and what I saw stopped me in my tracks. My belly—normally flat and firm—was now a completely different shape, swollen and rounded out in front of me like a tightly inflated balloon. The curve of it was almost shocking, jutting out so far that it seemed impossible it was my own body. My skin was stretched taut over the massive dome, with the light fur that usually covered my stomach now spread thin and sparse across the smooth, distended surface. 

I reached out tentatively, running a hand over the swell of my gut. It felt solid and unyielding, the kind of fullness that left no room for anything else. My fingers brushed against the fine hair that coated my belly, usually soft but now pulled taut over the curve, emphasising the tightness of my skin. The fur seemed almost out of place on such a massively bloated belly, a reminder of how much my body had changed in just a few short hours.

I took a step back, turning slightly to see my profile, and my eyes widened at the sight. The curve of my belly was even more pronounced from the side, a heavy, rounded bulge that hung low and full. It almost didn’t look real—like something out of a cartoon, exaggerated and impossible. And yet, there it was, a testament to just how much I had consumed.

I stood there for a moment, just staring at myself in the mirror. I knew I’d eaten a lot, but seeing the evidence in front of me like this was almost surreal. I couldn’t believe how much I’d managed to pack away—how much my belly had expanded to accommodate it all. I looked like I’d swallowed a beach ball whole, my normally lean frame now dominated by this massive, swollen gut.

A mix of shock and disbelief washed over me. I’d seen my belly bloated before—college eating challenges had often left me stuffed, but never like this. This was on another level entirely. I could feel the weight of it, the sheer fullness pressing down on me, making it hard to stand upright. Every movement made my gut jiggle slightly, a constant reminder of how tightly packed it was with food.

Despite the discomfort, there was something almost fascinating about it. The sight of my body so utterly transformed, my belly swollen beyond anything I’d ever thought possible, was strangely compelling. It was as if I’d crossed some invisible line, entered a new territory where my body was no longer my own but something else entirely—something massive and insatiable.

I ran my hand over the curve of my gut one more time, feeling the tightness beneath my palm, the way my skin stretched over the fullness. Then, with a deep breath, I turned away from the mirror and headed back into the room, where the guys were waiting. 

I stumbled out of the bathroom, still in a daze from the sight of my bloated belly, and made my way to the bed. My legs were heavy, my body protesting with every step as the weight of my overstuffed gut dragged me down. As soon as I reached the edge of the bed, I let myself fall backward, the mattress groaning beneath me as I sprawled out on top of the covers. The sensation of finally lying down was a relief beyond words. My belly, round and tight, stretched upward, and I could feel the strain in my skin as it tried to accommodate the ridiculous amount of food I’d packed away.

I let out a long, contented sigh, resting a hand on the taut dome of my stomach. It was firm to the touch, barely giving under the pressure of my fingers. My eyes drifted shut, and for a moment, I was lost in the sensation of being so full, so heavy, so utterly stuffed.

The sound of laughter pulled me from my reverie. The guys were still buzzing with energy, moving around the room as they started to get ready for whatever was coming next. Jim was the first to strip off his shirt, revealing a flat but slightly rounded belly—nothing compared to mine, but still showing signs of the indulgence we’d all participated in today. He patted it with a grin, turning to show it off to Banning and Noel.

"Look at this," Jim said, chuckling. "I’m usually flat as a board, but today... man, I’m starting to show a little gut. Must have been all those pastries at the market."

Banning, who was already down to his boxers, laughed and flexed his own stomach, which was a bit bloated  than usual but nowhere near as distended as mine. "Yeah, I’m feeling it too. I think I’m still carrying around half that platter of fries we demolished earlier."

Noel joined in, lifting his shirt to reveal his own slightly swollen belly. "Same here. It’s like we’ve all turned into little food balloons, but I gotta say, Harry definitely wins the prize for the biggest gut." 

They all turned to look at me, sprawled out on the bed with my massive, bloated belly on full display. The contrast between their smaller, slightly rounded stomachs and my own overstuffed gut was almost comical. I looked like I’d swallowed a whole watermelon, while they’d only nibbled on a few snacks.

Jim grinned and gave his own belly another pat. “How are you even still conscious after all that? You’ve gotta be on the verge of passing out, mate.”

I could only groan in response, too full and too tired to form a coherent reply. My belly felt like it was about to burst, every breath a reminder of how far I’d pushed myself today. But despite the discomfort, there was a strange sense of camaraderie in the room, a bond forged through our shared gluttony.

The guys continued to joke and laugh, comparing their own bellies and teasing me about mine, but I barely heard them. All I could focus on was the heavy, aching fullness that filled every inch of my midsection. I rubbed my hand over the curve of my stomach, trying to soothe the tightness, but it was no use. I was beyond stuffed, my gut stretched to its absolute limit.

Even so, as I lay there, I couldn’t help but smile at the absurdity of it all. I had no idea how I’d let myself get talked into eating so much, but in some weird way, it had been worth it. The guys were having the time of their lives, and despite my current state, I couldn’t deny that a part of me was enjoying it too.

To be continued . . . .

For more of my stories click here

[hammysamhah]

hello peoples i’m about to sound real crazy right now but hear me out cus i’ve been thinking this for awhile now while binge watching TBGO and Trollstopia and i need to know your thoughts!! and buckle up folks cus this is gonna be a LONG post

so okay basically, i think that in the shows Guy Diamond has some sort of generational trauma/ daddy issues/ faced parental neglect or however else it can be phrased.

this theory is only show specific and i don’t know if i sound crazy for thinking this AND i know i’ve made a post similarly about this except with Dareth from Ninjago but i actually have some real evidence this time to back up this theory/headcanon

look, this theory started off as kind of a joke at first after watching TBGO episode: “Trolly Tales 3” where Guy is seen telling a bunch of children a story based off of the nursery rhyme about jumping over a candlestick.

the story is seen with Guy as the main character, wanting to pursue a life of entertainment involving jumping over candlesticks. Sky Toronto, whom is Guy’s dad in this story, doesn’t agree with this lifestyle and insists he starts thinking more seriously and be part of the company. Guy rebels and pursues his dream anyway, but in the end it fails after the candlestick drops Guy and becomes a solo act. Guy, now at his lowest, goes back to his dad’s and tells him he’s ready to be serious. Sky responds to the statement that he has seen Guy’s shows and that he doesn’t want Guy calling him dad anymore, but to instead call him his #1 fan. it was a small but sweet twist there at the end where the dad accepts the son in the end.

now i didn’t really give much thought to the story until i saw the way Guy reacted when the kids didn’t like it. now i’ll make it very aware that i very much know Guy is just super dramatic (they even acknowledged that in the scene i’m mentioning rn), BUT as someone who loves to overanalyze cartoon characters and expressions, he kind of looked genuinely hurt. he was also fairly offended when poppy said his story was too dramatic.

mentioning again that i know Guy is just a drama queen but i like to overanalyze stuff like this

now after i noticed these details, i jokingly remarked that it seemed like Guy took the dislike of his story personally, as if that was a semi-true story. like as if something like that did happen to Guy when he was younger and he twisted the story to fit the nursery rhyme. i don’t think that Sky Toronto is his actual dad, there’s too much proof that shows they don’t have any personal connection like that. but i do think that whoever his dad really was did push him the same way Sky did in the story. and that maybe Guy twisted the ending to be happy when in reality it probably didn’t have his dad accepting him and loving him for who he was.

now everything i have been talking about is all just speculation. there’s no real proof that this story isn’t anything more than just a story. BUT!!! by overanalyzing it is what made me realize that Guy being neglected in some way by his dad (or mom if he has one) would make some sense considering his personality.

Guy is very reliant on being the center of attention, he doesn’t like the idea of anyone being better than him and just has some confidence issues in general (at least in TBGO). there are many episodes centering around this. this is even stated in Guy Damond’s wiki.

now, attention seeking is a very common occurrence in people that were neglected as a child. his attention seeking and huge ego are both things that show signs of trauma or neglect as seen below

this is just a slice of what i have in store though because i think that this ties into the way he parents Tiny Diamond in Trollstopia.

Guy and Tiny have a few episodes centered around their relationship, they’re all pretty heartwarming and a little sad (while also being funny because the show’s a comedy). these episodes have a pretty similar moral which is “i’ll love you no matter what” and i feel like there’s a reason they all pretty much have this moral and it’s to show how Guy is growing as a character and parent.

let me just summarize these episodes i am thinking of realll quick for ya

Extra Tootering (s1 ep 12a): Tiny wants to learn how to glitter fart like his dad to impress his friends, Guy tries to teach him how but it doesn’t work. time comes where Tiny is meant to show his friends his trick and ended up faking it so no one could know he couldn’t do it. feeling guilty for his lie, he runs away and Guy finds him and tells him that whether he can glitter or not he and his friends will still love him the way he is.

Dad-urday (s2 ep 1b): Tiny thinks of his dad as his hero and Guy doesn’t wanna do ANYTHING that could ever break that image, so Guy participates in Dad-urday events that he hates just to make Tiny happy, only in the end to find out that Tiny will always view Guy as his hero even if he can’t do all the typical dad things that others can do.

Funder Construction (s7 ep 5a): Guy tells Tiny about how their family has a legacy of building extraordinaryly cool blanket forts and unintentionally pressured Tiny into feeling that he needs to make his own super impressive fort or else he won’t be considered a Diamond, Guy immediately comforted and reassured Tiny that no matter what he accomplishes in life he’ll always be a Diamond because he’s his son and that he’ll love him no matter what.

now let me break down these episodes a bit more to show you how i think it could prove Guy has parental trauma and how it plays into how he parents now.

for Extra Tootering, there’s this specific scene that spoke to me. when Tiny tells his dad that he wants to learn how to glitter like him, Guy tells him that he was also a late tooter and that Tiny should be patient, as it comes with time. but then Tiny starts saying that he’ll just hide his true self away until then. when Guy heard his son say those things, he was tearing up and even freaked out a little literally shouting a dramatic “NOOOOOOOOOOO!” and he immediately decided that he was going to help his son learn to glitter fart despite his earlier statement that Tiny should be patient.

now i know the topic being about farting glitter makes this feel so unserious but that isn’t gonna stop me from overanalyzing it LOL

the main thing i noticed was how upset that Guy was when Tiny started talking about hiding himself from the world. Tiny was wanting to hide himself because he couldn’t glitter like Guy could. Guy didn’t wanna be the cause of his son hiding himself!! any parent would be upset in this situation. but if i consider my past point of that story Guy told back in TBGO, where the dad didn’t want his son to be himself, being a real thing that Guy could’ve gone through, Tiny wanting to hide himself could very much upset Guy!! not just for the basic reasons of wanting your child to be happy but also because he doesn’t want Tiny to go through what he went through.

later on when Guy finally finds his runaway son, this interaction plays out:

(direct quotes from the ep)

Guy: “don’t you see? i love you just the way you are! we all do!”

Tiny: “but you’re my daddy, daddy! you have to say that.”

Guy: “…you’re right, Tiny. i guess because i’m your father, in a way, i do have to say it.”

and the way Guy said that last sentence just felt interesting to me. the pause before he said it, and using the words “i guess” made it feel like he never really got that treatment from his own father ? ofc i could just be grasping at straws there a lil bit but it’s what i’m thinking.

now by the end of the episode Tiny has learned how to glitter and used it to save himself, his dad, and friends from falling to death lol— but what Guy says to Tiny afterwards was very sweet.

(direct quote from ep)

Guy: “TINYYYYY! HAHA! you did it! YOOOOU did it!!! for the record, i’d still love you if you couldn’t, but i’m glad to not be dead.”

i just like how Guy specified that he still would’ve loved Tiny either way. this doesn’t directly lead any points to my theory other than maybe Guy feels the need to make sure Tiny absolutely knows that he’ll love him no matter what. but any parent should feel that way about their child. i just really thought the moment was sweet and worth a mention.

now onto the next episode, Dad-urday, and let me tell you this episode probably spoke to me the MOST when it came to defending my theory.

for the entire episode Guy was stressing over disappointing his son. Tiny thinks of Guy as his hero, and Guy doesn’t want to do anything that could ever shatter that thought and make Tiny think less of him. so he and Tiny participate in a thing called Dad-urday, where all the dads in Trollstopia do a bunch of stereotypical dad things (like grill, play catch, fish, stuff like that). but Guy isn’t good at those things, so he goes to his friends for help and this interaction pursues.

(direct quotes from ep)

Synth: “Tiny’s gonna love dad-urday! he thinks the world of you and what-not!”

Guy: “exactly! Tiny thinks i can do anything! but tomorrow he’ll realize i can’t, and i just don’t want my little boy to lose his hero…”

Guy is seen here putting so much pressure on himself for no reason! he should know that Tiny would love him despite his lack of ‘dad’ skills, but he’s convinced himself that if he isn’t perfect and amazing at everything then his son will think less of him. this is totally rooted in Guy’s confidence issues and probable parental neglect i think.

so Guy forces himself to do typical Dad-urday things (with the help of his friends) to make sure not to disappoint his son. but things go wrong when Guy has to participate in a boating event to which he gets into a dangerous position. at this point Guy’s friends finally told Tiny the truth and Tiny immediately just wants his dad to get out of the danger he’s in leading to this interaction

(direct quotes from the ep)

Tiny: “daddy! your daddy friends already told me everything! you gotta get out of there!”

Guy: “b-but— this isn’t how i wanted this to go, Tiny! you’re my little boy! and i want you to keep on believing i can do anything! so you don’t lose your hero!”

the way that Guy sounded so panicked and upset in this scene really hurt. to me it feels like Guy is desperate to not end up being a bad dad, he wants to be someone his son can look up to and to be the first person he goes to if there’s a problem. i really think this shows that Guy never had a good role model himself, as he doesn’t understand that he doesn’t need to do all the things he’s making himself do in order to achieve this goal.

this mindset even had Guy forget that Tiny already knew he’s not perfect, as Tiny pointed out he already knew he’s not capable of everything and specified about when Guy tried to build his bike and failed, which made Guy finally remember. Tiny then proceeded to list a bunch of other things about his dad that aren’t the most charming, like his bald spot, or his fake calves lmao

anyways the next bit of dialogue here seems pretty meaningful

(direct quotes)

Tiny: “there’s only one reason you’re my hero, daddy…. *BECAUSE* you’re my daddy!”

Guy (tearfully): “…really?”

the fact Guy was crying in this scene just showed how touched he felt that he didn’t actually have to be perfect to be a good dad. and that he already was one. the mere fact that being his dad made Tiny think of him as his hero definitely made him realize he was doing a good job. he needed to hear that after all the pressure he put on himself earlier.

now onto Funder Construction, which is a pretty big one too cus they actually talk about their family in this episode!

this could potentially put a little dent into my theory since Guy is the one who talks about them and he didn’t seem like someone who didn’t like his family. but i might just put it as he didn’t wanna have his child worry about it. i mean Guy is an actor in the show, it wouldn’t be too crazy for him to ignore his feelings for a minute and talk a little kindly about their family’s legacy to inspire Tiny, because Guy did play a fair part in it after all.

now to put it simply this episode hurt my heart so bad 😭 Guy’s parenting in this episode is so good it hurt. Tiny found an interest in making blanket forts, so Guy tells Tiny about how making blanket forts runs in the family and that they’ve all made huge creations out of them. and now Tiny wants to do the same.

Guy supports Tiny throughout the entire thing until Tiny starts rushing it and the fort becomes unstable. by then Guy is begging Tiny to stop but Tiny is consistent on getting it done. then the tower starts wobbling over with them on it and they fall off the side! luckily they were able to hold onto some loose blankets but they still were in a very unsafe position. and even then, still Tiny is consistent about finishing this fort and thus, this interaction pursues:

(direct quotes)

Tiny: “i have to build something the world has never seen before!”

Guy: “BUT WHY?!”

Tiny: “because if i don’t…i’m not a Diamond.”

Guy: “…not a Diamond..?”

and dude. Guy’s face after Tiny said that. that brief moment of just an emotion change felt like Guy was realizing that he unintentionally pressured Tiny into thinking that if he didn’t build this fort he wouldn’t be considered part of the family. this is the exact thing Guy wanted to prevent Tiny from feeling.

so now continuing the scene, tiny is crying at this point:

(direct quotes)

Tiny: “it’s like you said, ‘every Diamond built structures that would stand until the end of time.’ so, if i don’t do that… how can i be one of them?”

Guy: “…Tiny Diamond. young man, you listen to me, and you listen good, because i have something that you need to hear. first of all, the things the Diamonds of the past did took them their entire lifetimes. if they caught one glimpse of what you’ve accomplished as a child..? it would blow the hair right off their heads!”

Tiny: [smiles and sniffs]

Guy: “and second of all, and way way more importantly, none of that matters! i don’t care if you build a thousand skyscrapers, or if you never touch another blanket again, you are always a Diamond. because you.. are my son.”

this scene is so important not just for Tiny but for Guy too. Tiny is learning once again that his dad will truly love him no matter what. and unlike last time with the glitter fart, (which Tiny was able to achieve in the end), in this episode, Tiny’s plan doesn’t work, but now he’s okay with it. because his dad made him feel less pressured and more loved. Guy Diamond truly said some powerful things to his son. this will most likely be a memory that Tiny will remember forever and that’s such a good thing.

coming back to the theory though, Guy had accidentally made his son feel how his family probably made him feel in the past. maybe not about specifically the blanket tower stuff but possibly something similar or just anything in general. pressure to live up to family values can be traumatic if your family makes you feel outcasted for not living up to it the way they want. and considering i think Guy either got disowned or ran away himself, (solely based on the story he told those children in TBGO), it obviously didn’t end very well.

the fact he made Tiny feel that pressure was probably heart breaking to Guy. and he made sure to immediately make sure Tiny knew he had no reason to feel like that. he became so serious so fast to make SURE tiny didn’t feel out of place in their family.

and that just shows Guy’s development not just from the trauma im theorizing but just in general in the show. Guy was never really the most serious character in this show. i mean, he’s a naked sparkly troll who’s main character trait half the time is farting glitter or being super dramatic in comedic ways. but seeing how serious Guy gets when it’s about his son just goes to show how seriously he cares about him. and that’s how you break generational trauma yall, Guy Diamond mastered it.

so um yeah this is pretty much all i have to say about this theory. i just wanted to show how i thought that Guy didn’t have a good childhood but made sure his son had a great one. really sweet stuff for this mostly unserious show. i know this is probably super dumb but i don’t care i just love dumb things. and if you actually read all of this thanks and here’s a cookie 🍪

[twst-rose-prisms]

Twst boys and their respective Vocaloid songs

As the title said, I've been wanting to assign some Vocaloid songs for the twst characters as there are quite a lot of songs that specifically fit them! I'll include some lyrics part as of why I think it fits along with a small analysis + song link! I'm letting my Vocaloid braincells taking over this time hehe 🌹❤️

Shout out to my bestie @twst-megane for helping me out a bunch once again!!

Characters: All NRC students Warning: Some of these songs contain angsty/dark themes or imply self-harm, however it's nothing too much as that's the nature of Vocaloid songs in general and I recommend you checking them out if you guys can!

Part 1 | Part 2

🌹 Heartslabyul 🌹

Riddle: Bitter Choco Decoration

Pretty self-explanatory from the lyrics if you remember Riddle’s backstory with his strict, controlling mother. His entire life up until he became a student has been under his mom’s influence and it ended up him being too strict even to himself and his emotions - just like the meaning of the song too.

“Bitter choco decoration I long for the ideal that everyone wishes for Bitter choco decoration I reduce my individuality and my emotions to ashes Bitter choco decoration Kill your desires and ego, and bury them all underground Bitter choco decoration I've finally grown up, mama” “Surely, tomorrow, and the days after This hell will continue on and on. Alas, so please, just for now Let me keep the feelings I had when I was but a child And be the naked me.”

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

Ace: Lost One’s Weeping

Being a rebellious person, I’m thinking this song fits Ace the most as it’s about questioning the flawed system, questioning one’s being and purpose and that if we have to keep living under some sort of authority for the rest of our life. As you can already see how he acts in Book 1 towards Riddle - defying authority, questioning it, and being rebellious about it.

“Can you say the formula for area ratio? Can you say the dreams of your childhood? Who threw those dreams in a ditch? Hey, who was it? You know who it was! When are you going to grow up!? What is a grown-up anyway? Do you know who has the answers? Hey, what should I do? I don't care anymore!”

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

Deuce: RAD DOGS

I picked this song for Deuce because of the lyrics, but also the beat and the meaning. The strong, powerful beat with the fast rap part really fit him don’t you think? The lyrics speaks of the struggle of going against the grain and choosing a life of freedom, although it comes with an effort and the ability to face everything life throws at us. We need to take a leap of faith and not settle for anything less than what we truly want, emphasizes the importance of taking a risk and restarting, not worrying about the reason or justifications for doing so, just like how Deuce acts in general with his goal and dream.

"My unseen devotion, sympathy that I don’t feel, and all the things that I can't have What kind of story? Whose story is it? If you don't have something, you'll start to want it, isn’t that right?" "Now, I’ve decided to restart for the first time Just saying “I want to be like you” is all you need, right? Not knowing the reason why, not needing the reason why I'm defying against fate’s rules" "Now, I’ve decided to restart and burst out Just saying “I want to see it” is all you need, right? Let that groovy sound beat, let me hear that heartbeat Since there’s no time to just stand still" "With the tailwind blowing Alright, we keep going forward without looking back"

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

Trey: Ai no Material

Trey gives me a melancholic, casual and mature vibe, like an older brother who you can depend on anytime and he would give you his usual smile. That’s why I picked this song for him, although he always helps out everyone but I feel like he can be lonely sometimes, like perhaps he would need a helping hand or maybe some support. When I read the lyrics I think of him! I want to interpret it as Heartslabyul to Trey, who’s been always working hard for the dorm, and it’s the message that he might want to hear the most!

"(Jump into tomorrow!) It seems that the stars will fall down. (Always) You wear a sparkling smile. (With a smile) But even if it's hard, you hide the pain away, (Want to meet you) and without showing it, you just laughed." "I always want to smile, after all. It's not hard, so I'm going to try harder! I wonder if I've been embracing such a lie tightly, And kept walking all this time." "Fly up more, higher and higher. If it's you, you can do it with a smile. But it's okay even if it's just a little bit, It's okay to quietly depend on me too." "Words like "I'm alright" or saying "I'm okay", While showing your usual smile. I understand those lies you utter, And that's why I tug on your hand."

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

Cater: Phony

I know it might sound like it doesn’t fit him but in my opinion, this song sums up Cater as a character. We haven’t seen much of him in actual depth, but I definitely think he has more than he just appears. This song talks about how a person can mask and deceive themselves in lies, they’re aware of it, but they have to put it up in order to meet societal expectations. A constructed image or persona - the “fake” that they created and now they struggle to reconcile with their true self, and I think he is like that as well. (Aniplex please more Cater content for us we're waiting-)

“There’s no flower in this world more beautiful than an artificial one That’s because everything is manufactured from lies Antipathy world” “The rain of despair pelts my umbrella and Dampens my bangs and the hidden side of my heart Oh, it’s all so troublesome” “Before I knew it, the words had already withered The fruit of the truth is ripening within me Painting lies upon the mirror’s reflection, a “makeup” of the loss of oneself” “Before I knew it, the mimicked cries joined the unpleasant chorus Their eyes, leery, are dissolving you I am missing from the mirror’s reflection. There is only a “fake” that everyone mistook for someone else”

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

🦁 Savanaclaw 🦁

Leona: Meltdown

The song is about one wanting to disappear, wanting to kill their old self and erase everything as if it’s like falling asleep. Though I think this song can be interpreted as having depression - and from what we see going on with Leona, I feel like he does show signs of it, I wish they would dive deeper into his story in Book 2 though! Other than that, I feel like the lyrics in here suit him a lot, especially the “sleep” part in the lyrics.

“I'm like a lighter out of fluid My insides are on fire Sometimes I wish It was all a lie” “I want to jump into the core My memories would melt into brilliant whiteness and disappear If I could jump into the core I feel like I’d be able to sleep again like I used to” “If I jumped into the core I'd vanish, like I had gone to sleep A morning without me Would be perfect All the gears meshing together That's how the world would be”

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

Jack: Night Sky Patrol of Tomorrow

I think this song fits Jack a lot, the vibe is definitely for him but also the lyrics as well. The headstrong vibe, full of uncertainty but also full of hope for tomorrow, despite feeling hopeless at times but what is important is never give up and head forward to the future. The song’s meaning is to convey resilience, independence, and the importance of cherishing the present moment even when you’re uncertain about some things. You could also take this as a JackMC song haha, It just fits him a lot imo!

“I'm a boy who picks out his enemies to fight, Depending on whatever suits my mood. No hopes for the future, I wanted to be drawn in a dream." "And yet I fear the future, Hating tomorrow, wishing towards the past. There's no longer anything I can do, so I shout, "Tomorrow, tomorrow, please, don't come!" "If you want it, then make it come true yourself." Eh... You said that..." "I think about what I want, To go see you again tomorrow night. But I don't know, maybe you won't be there, But even so, we will always be one." "So, see you later, Sky Arrow, let's smile on! I want to be together with you in the future, However short our time may be, so I'll shout out, "Remember this day someday in the future, whoever we are then..."

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

Ruggie: Moonlight

This song fits Ruggie a lot in terms of lyrics, with numerous mentions of rags and junk and collecting them together to the longing of being your own self instead of being in someone else’s shadow and chasing after them. The singer compares themselves to a piece of junk or trash as they think of themselves lowly, just like Ruggie himself. The mention of moonlight here represents the singer’s ideal that they always chase after, like Ruggie’s life goal. Overall, the vibe of the song fit him a lot! (I recommend checking out the Vivid Bad Squad version too!)

“A collection of junk, Covered with a piece of rag, A replica in a hideous shape Words spun by someone else, Tones played by someone else, A fake made by a distorted collage of them” “Even being junks, even a piece of rag In the blood pumped from its heart There was only my own anger In the end, there must be nothing left Love, spun songs, and my name will one day fade away I wonder why? It's stuck in the back of my chest, A loneliness similar to the silence of a winter night” “Whether or not I'm a fake, Looking back now, there was only Those blurred memories” “The irony of being a waste, I'm trying to get out of the cliché, but "Another rehash of someone else’s work?" "Is even your identity a trick?" "Do you want love, even if you have to steal it?" “Even being junks, even a piece of rag After following the never ending dream I'll find my own light, all the way”

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

🐚 Octavinelle 🐚

Azul: Delusion Tax

In my opinion, this is the most fitting song I could think of for Azul. As said in the lyrics, we all have desires of our own, and the person (or in this case Miku) in this song is a genie that can grant any wishes, but in the end everything come with a price, anyone who make a wish with her will have to sell a part of themselves. Sounds just like Azul and his contracts don’t you think? But you can also think this reflects Azul’s own desires once you know his backstory too! (and also, check out this amazing art by my bestie! Her art is amazing!!)

“Turning wishes into reality Right now, buy back your future! Afflicted by so badly wanting to do “that”, consumed by desire Come now, let’s go beyond all this pain” “Existing for your sake alone, mandatory affections and obligated kindness Though you should be satisfied, a voice from within shouts “NO!” We have an idiot on our hands, it seems…” “None of it will come true if you don't pay the price Look, just up and borrow the "desired amount" Reality is a bitter-sweet pill to swallow Come now, let’s go beyond all this pain” “That which you wish for, the person you think of, The past which you hate as well, they’ll all be as you like. The kind of face and chest you desire, they’ll be granted if you pay. “It’s a promise”

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

Jade: SHANTI

I feel like the song is pretty self-explanatory, as you can see with the lyrics. It just fits Jade’s job and his approach to the “targets” and lure them into signing a contract with Azul, but it’s probably just more than the said goal… But you can never tell with that smile of his as his “kind” words accompany his looks. Until you realized you fell into the trap and become one of Azul’s underlings due to the contract (at least, until post-Book 3, but who knows)

“Hey, young man who’s hanging his head Did something bad happen? If you’re fine with me, do you wanna talk about it? I can help you What in the world happened? That sounds terrible, brother I'll give you this, so cheer up, ok You can pay me back next time” “So you came again tonight Was it to your liking? The fee is this much Huh? Huh? Huh? So you can’t pay Then it can’t be helped I’ve got the perfect job for you, so come and follow me”

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

Floyd: Matryoshka

A chaotic, addictive rock song that is very fitting for Floyd. Why though? According to the wiki “Most of the lyrics are nonsensically vague or ridiculous, with a slight hint of pain or sadness, giving the overall song a crazy and psychotic feeling. Therefore, the lyrics have been interpreted in various ways.” Just like the moody guy himself, don’t you think?

“My headache is singing about a package The clock's hand is stuck at 4 o'clock No one would tell me why But the world has begun to rotate in reverse” “Ah, would you please dance even more? Kalinka? Malinka? Just play the strings" "What should I do with these kinds of emotions? Won't you please tell me? The signal reception is good, 5-2-4! Freud? Keloid? Just hit the keys Let's just laugh everything off Hurry up and dance, you group of fools!" "Together let's clap our childish hands To this intentionally deranged rhythm Surely, I couldn't care less about everything The world's temperature is beginning to melt”

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

[grainjew]

Nikaposting Pt 4: Sun God Tropes

This is the fourth of a series of posts about Nika & associated religious practice in the One Piece world. As I write and post the rest of the series, I’ll add links to this header.

Pt 1: Crypto-Religion | Pt 2: Symbology & Syncretism | Pt 3: Joyboy was Shandian

Enormous credit to @oriigami for being my discussion partner through all of this and having a substantial influence on the final product. Check out our ao3 series Joyful for a narrative rather than analytical take on the Nika tradition, and definitely go read her OP blog @kaizokuou-ni-naru for meta and translation fun facts.

-

#JustLittleSunGodThings

So Luffy’s a sun god, or the embodied power of the wishes for one, or whatever. But does he do mythological solar deity things?

Yes actually.

This post is the fourth and last (as of now) in this series, and it’s entirely for fun. I’ll almost certainly miss things as I go down the list here- if you can think of other solar or dawn deity things he gets up to, please add them in the replies!

With no further ado, here is a list of sun god things Luffy has been known to get up to, & which will no doubt inform the mythology developing around him in the One Piece world. (How many people were deifying this guy even before he awakened his devil fruit? Like it was definitely not zero is all I’m saying.)

Getting eaten by snakes

What started this whole list was me turning to @oriigami in the middle of the night after we’d been rewatching Little Garden and trying to make an accurate count of how many times Luffy’s been swallowed whole and going “you know what’s sun god shit? getting eaten by snakes.”

Sun gods are often doing this. Take Apep in Egyptian myth, who tries to devour the sun god Ra every day. Or Rahu, the Hindu shadow planet and serpent, who swallows the sun to cause solar eclipses.

Luffy is also often doing this. The most notable example is of course the Nola Incident in Skypiea arc, but if we expand the definition of snake to include generally snakeish sort of guys, he also gets briefly ate by Kaidou very shortly after awakening, and just now by Mister Sandworm in ch 1110. (And by Kaidou fish-fish fruit equivalency I’d argue we can also count the Little Garden goldfish and the crocodile that ate him as a kid here but obviously that’s more tenuous and mostly just funny.)

Slightly more tenuously as well, there’s Amaterasu of Shinto lore retreating into her cave (a cave is a kind of snake), as well as the Norse wolf that chases the sun Sköll (occasionally merged with Fenrir), the Javanese god (described as an ogre) Batara Kala who eats the sun and moon to cause eclipses, and the alchemical Green Lion that devours the sun.

Storm and sky gods are also often interacting with, killing, and being eaten by snakes, which is less relevant here except that Nami is storm god coded and she also got ate in the Nola Incident. So that’s fun!

Having a chariot that circumnavigates the world

Many sun gods, especially in the Indo-European sphere of traditions, have some sort of chariot or boat that they ride from east to west each day to carry the sun across the sky. Often they have attendants (sometimes dawn and dusk gods; or sometimes these gods have their own chariots or horses as well) to help them with this.

If you want a list of sun vehicles the wikipedia page for solar deities has a whole bunch of them. Have fun.

I think Thousand Sunny speaks for herself on this front: not only is Sunny a ship designed, destined, and dreamed up to herself circumnavigate the world with Luffy as her captain, but she also has the Sun on the front as her figurehead in a manner that does kinda remind me of some depictions I’ve seen of the sun being carried across the sky in such a chariot. Also, she can fly!

Association with royalty

Kings and emperors love to use sun gods to give divine legitimacy to their rule. This is in no way universal (there’s lots of storm gods out there who also do this, just off the top of my head) but take Amaterasu (Shinto), Inti (Incan), Amun-Ra (also Aten) (Egyptian), Sol Invictus (Roman), etc.

Obviously Luffy is going to be King, and is currently an Emperor. But also, he tends to go around and toppling kings and gods and tyrants and vaguely lending legitimacy to whoever is stepping up to the throne in their place. He’s got the Mandate of Heaven (this is a joke mostly but we HAVE all read Loguetown)! And also distributes it to people he likes. Thanks Luffy.

Solar discs, radiate crowns, and beetles

A solar disc is a flat circle, sometimes with rays, that symbolically represents the sun or the sun personified. If you have read pt 2 of this series, you will recognize the Nika symbol in this description.

In the same vein, when applied to a personified depiction of the sun, the solar disc has the habit of becoming a halo or a radiate crown (such as the one worn by the Statue of Liberty - the radiate crown used to be an emperors and sun gods thing and has since become associated with personifications of liberty. So That’s Fun). Obviously Luffy is not in the habit of having either of these representationally, except of course for. The hat that encircles his head in gold.

The final note on symbology I have here is that the Egyptian god of the morning sun, Khepri, is associated with scarabs/dung beetles. A fact that I think known beetle-lover Luffy would appreciate. Get this guy some scarab symbolism stat. Check these bugs out!!!

Bonus: descending into the underworld and eclipse stories

Katabasis, that is, a descent into the underworld, is in no way a sun god exclusive, although solar myths do often involve the sun god, having traveled across the sky by day, needing to find their way through the ocean, the underworld, or some other sort of nether realm to return, overnight, to their morning home in the east. And it’s very fun to look at in the context of Luffy, eclipse myths, and the Marineford saga.

So obviously the Impel Down arc is is a very literal katabasis. It’s Hell, it’s got all the Dante’s Inferno theming, and, like in so many katabases, Luffy descends to the depths in pursuit of some goal, eventually emerging miraculously alive but unsuccessful (see, for a very quick shortlist of katabases of this type, Orpheus & Eurydice, Inanna, and Izanagi & Izanami).

So that’s delightful. But I think it’s even more fun to think about the Marineford saga in general, eventually culminating in the timeskip, as a prototype for an eclipse story.

Solar eclipses, though predictable, are something like a rarer and more frightening form of night, and so their associated myths have a general tendency to involve a more dramatic and/or violent symbolic death of the sun- see, for example, the various devourers of the sun mentioned in the first bullet point of this post.

So, we have the timeskip. The fire goes out. The sun, having descended into the underworld and pushed himself past his own limits, is defeated, disappearing completely from the world for two years. Until- In a way that was, technically, predictable, if you had the correct sphere of knowledge, he returns, miraculously renewed.

I’d incorporate that into my belief system, is all I’m saying.

-

Thank you all for reading! This is all for the series so far, but not, I hope, forever. Many more thoughts to have and webs to weave!

Have a lovely week!

[howlingdemon13]

You could use a buddy~!

Guys, you have no idea how happy I am that this is complete! You know I'm gonna be supper obnoxious now that I can turn into a demonic ghost with mommy issues. 🤪 Anyway, some notes and thoughts on this cosplay that no one asked for and no one wants~!

First and foremost, this cosplay is sort of a clonesona. I feel like (if given the chance), Beetlejuice would play around with how his clones look. Obviously on stage it’s impossible to find actors who look identical to the lead, but I like that the fandom has embraced BJ being unable/unwilling to create clones that are a 100% physical match. If that’s the case, I’m sure he throws in a more fem-presenting clone once in a while.

This doubles as a feminine-presenting form for Beetlejuice himself, too (Toonjuice has no issue changing his gender presentation at will in a bunch of scenarios, and I like to think that Musicaljuice would be the same/similar). I guess a version of Beetlejuice that’s female would be fun, but I prefer the idea of BJ shapeshifting to look and present the way he wants to (or to have fun with unsuspecting victims).

Even from the early development of this cosplay all the way back in October, choosing between a dress and a suit was like pulling teeth. I love the suit an unhealthy amount, but I wanted something distinct from other interpretations. That, and I was hesitant to lean into the hyper-sexualized looks I’ve seen from officially licensed offshoots of the character. Beetlejuice, while a self-proclaimed sexual being, doesn’t read as the kind of entity to go from generally masc-presenting all the way to hyper-sexual fem-presenting. Also, where the hell is the grime on all these fem designs???? Why does she look clean? Cowards!

I think BJ would settle on a fem-presenting form in a suit, but I also think he’s just as comfortable in a dress regardless of the pronouns/physical characteristics he’s using at any given moment. He likes his dresses and we love him for it.

Anyway-

I wanted a dress that felt “old” but not dated,so I settled on a shirt dress. They came about in the 1920’s, but didn’t become super popular until the 50’s. The cut of Beetlejuice’s suit is somewhere between modern and a style that would have been popular in the 50’s, too.

I also think shirt dresses are pretty “neutral” in that they aren’t form-fitting and they read more like a shirt from the waist up. I didn’t want anything dainty, but I wanted some movement to the fabric, and a dress does that a bit better than a suit imo. It’s why I love Beetlejuice’s first 15 minutes on stage in the trench coat. I know it’s a callback to when we first see him in the movie, but it adds a ton of secondary movement and looks cartoony when coupled with very exaggerated movements typical of a stage show. It’s why I love watching Collette especially bounce around on stage because istg he knows this (or that him growing up with the cartoon make him really lean into over the top body language and the trench coat just adds to it).

Like, look at that! Are you seeing what I’m saying? If I could animate, that would be a dream shot!

Oops, can’t go 15 minutes without thinking of the silly.

All that is to say that movement and form in an outfit, especially one for a character as chaotic as Beetlejuice, was super important to me. It’s also why I settled on long, curly hair, kept the tie, and added a bow. All of that breaks up patterns, adds movement, and is something I can put moss on. Anyway, this cosplay has a lot of little nods to the musical, cartoon, and film (but is mostly based off of the musical).

Cartoon: bugs!! Toonjuice is sometimes seen with small beetles chilling on his suit (which he inevitably snacks on). I love the idea of Beej being covered in bugs, so I felt compelled to include them on the dress and hat. It's a subtle reference, but one that I really wanted. They’re made out of scrap polymer clay and painted. Here are a few:

Film: The guide hat! It's iconic. I know that the hat made it into very early versions of the musical and promotional materials, but how it got thrown by the wayside is beyond me.

Musical: the grime and disrepair! I was heavily inspired by an early suit that is absolutely covered in moss!

I also added a lot of grime to the shoulders and hem as a callback to later versions of the suit and especially the tour version of it. I also added some x stitches since I really like the way they look on the current tour suit!

Oh, and the banjolele! Can't forget my favorite prop!

Miscellaneous: I love giving supernatural characters pointy ears and fangs, so you best believe I’m going to do the same for BJ. Slightly related, but I love the tour makeup so much. The makeup artists really lean into Beetlejuice being corpsey and I’m here for it (I essentially combine the tour and film makeup to get the look I’m after).

Oh! And snap bracelets! I remember hardcore stimming with these as a kid to the point of destroying them (then it was goodbye snap bracelets), and you cannot tell me Beetlejuice, neurodivergent-coded demon ghost, wouldn’t be the same way. Full disclosure, I had to wrap them around metal bands because these snaps are rubber and the texture is a nightmare for me, but I was determined to include them. They’re also a substitute for Beetlejuice’s watches in the film.

God/Satan, that was a lot of rambling. If you survived all that, thanks for reading!

[crystaldivination]

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐇𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔

‹ 𝑃𝑖𝑐𝑘 𝑎 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑑 › ♥︎ 𝑂ℎ… 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑑 𝑏𝑦 𝑦𝑜𝑢

⤷ Valentine’s special ⁀➷ ⤶

Hello beautiful souls ♡︎ it’s been a while. I’ve planned to go after my pick a card schedule but since it’s Valentines’ Day 💌💘 I decided to squeeze this in between. For those who have already found their other half I wish you a happy Valentine’s Day. Make romantic and beautiful memories with your lover. As for my single souls who is looking and waiting for love especially on this day, don’t worry because there is someone waiting somewhere out there for you already. When the time is right they’ll show up. For now we can find other way to celebrate love that doesn’t involve romance right? I hope you get to spend time with your loved ones on this day and do something fun. Have a beautiful time for yourselves. You deserve it ❣︎

That to be said, I hope to provide you with some lovely messages from the person of your mind or anyone who is thinking about you with this intuitive pick a card reading. In this reading we will be looking at who is secretly having feelings for you and how they feel about you. Check out the 2nd part of this Valentine’s edition here.

⭒ masterlist • paid services • tip me

How to choose a pile? Take a few deep breaths ＆ look at each piles separately. Trust your intuition to pick your pile.

The piles ┊

left ➜ right

Disclaimer ┊this is a general reading which may or may not resonate with you. Take what resonates and leave out anything that doesn’t. Feel free to choose another pile if you'd like.

𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟏

"Oh tell me if there is anyone like her. No, there is no one like her."

This person might be someone you know or someone near your orbit. They seem to believe there is a connection between you both right before seeing or meeting you. Love at first sight. They feel something unexplainable when it comes to you. They find you captivating and attractive, not to be said, very intelligent. In their eyes you embody the person of both beauty and brain. You actually are. They are very romantic and a dreamer. They’d want you to notice them if you haven’t already. For some I guess this might be a crush who is too shy to approach you and just like to observe you from afar. They like to fantasize about you and how it’d be like if you guys were together. I heard the word "each other’s" so they might be slightly possessive or just want you guys to belong to each other. It doesn’t seem to be toxic. I just feel like they’d want a love that’s like a fairytale. They have a heart of an artist. You could even be their muse. Their source of inspiration. You literally inspire them everyday. I heard something along the line "You are so beautiful and smart that I could write a million unique poems for you". Aww pile 1 they are so sweet. It’s a shame that they’re keeping it to themself. If they could only show it to you just like how they’re willing to tell me this… I’m also getting that you occupy their mind 24/7. Sometimes you could be popping up out of nowhere and they might even see hallucinations of you in front of them. Omg. They’re that in love with you. I’d even say you are one of the rare people that they admire every bit of. They really want to cherish you with all their heart because they believe you deserve every of it. You’re so kind and just a dream person for them. They’re putting you on the pedestal fr. They wouldn’t want to come out of their dream any soon but they do know that it’s not the reality so that’s kinda sad. If they could be yours they’d want to provide and cater you with love and everything you need. Your desires are theirs to fulfill. They’d want the best out of the best for you. They really seem like a giver.

Some hints to know who they are:

Masculine energy, books, glasses, tall and brown haired, casual looks, notebook with a pen, twirl pen, might like to rest on a bench, connected to nature

The song matches the vibe of this connection from their pov ⭒۟ ׁ

Especially this part ⌵

{It's you, it's you, it's all for you}

{Everything I do}

{I tell you all the time}

{Heaven is a place on earth with you}

𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟐

"They got me thinking about them"

This is a little bit confusing to me because the person I’m getting for this pile seems to be…how could I say…a little bit out of their mind? Maybe they’re quite oblivious in general or they don’t really care about most things. They aren’t the type to chase the high or hang out in groups to be part of something. They prefer to not be influenced by anyone and to be on their own. Not a loner or anything, they just don’t need other people or stimulations to function well or to build confidence. To them those things seem a little "superficial". They know what they enjoy and who they value so they only keep the minimum of what’s important to them and who they want to be surrounded with. Despite that they’re actually quite warm on the inside and do seek sincere connections. They usually appear detached or try to portray a cold demeanor, sometimes out of this un-/disinterest but also to shy away other people from approaching or getting to close to them. This might stem from their past but then YOU came into the picture.

You might be quite the opposite of that person. You’re social, open and friendly. You might make friends easily. For some reason I’m getting that they might be a new person for you. You guys might've met at school/courses or at some sort of work related places. You might even be a transfer student/worker etc. The first moment they saw you they don’t seem to be interested at all like their usual self but you on the contrary are always curious to meet and get to know new people which led you to approach them first. Tbh your first impression of each other wasn’t really great. They might’ve been quite sassy or even "rude" to you but something might’ve happened later on and I’m getting that it was you who showed kindness to them which made them open up to you more. Over times you guys got more comfortable with each other and seem to be quite close. They didn’t seem to even realize their feelings for you at first but they do noticed a feeling being evoked in them by you. Every time you’re near them or with every encounter with you they feel a shift. You might have recalled a feeling that was familiar to them but it seems like it’s a feeling that has been forgotten for so long that they themself might not even remember what it was. Because it feels so easy and natural with you, all they suspect was them being out of their mind or that something is wrong with them. They noticed that their heart beats faster lately whenever they’re around you, they think more often about you and every symptom one gets when being in love. They slowly realize your effect on them. I heard "Is that her…is she the one who’s making me feel this type of way?". Their close friends might’ve pointed it out to them how they have changed. They could be more lively and their behavior are much more out there. Again I heard "They changed me…?" They start to notice and pay attention to their surrounding more but mostly to catch YOU, to be exact to get your attention.

Some hints to know who they are:

Detached, appear cold and un-/disinterested, athletic style, animal lover, likes to watch birds and the sunset, analytical, great at debates, quite funny or humorous, would like to tease you for fun or to get a reaction out of you

The song matches the epiphany and how their feelings develop ⭒۟ ׁ

Especially this part ⌵

{When you're with me}

{Be honest}

{Let's just be honest}

{You got me in my feelings} …

{Never understood what it feels like}

{Like the way that you're turning me 'round}

Ps. For this pile I felt like I should give some background information since it’s a new person so that’s why it’s a little longer than the other two piles.

𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟑

"Oh heaven please send me to her"

Pile 3, I feel like this person's heart is aching for you. It longs for you but not in a selfish way but more in a protective way. You might have gotten out of a relationship recently or broke up with someone and then heading into a new relationship maybe to ease the pain or to forget about the earlier one, either way there seems to be a third party going on. This person just want to take you in their arm and hold you until you feel okay again. They think they could be so much better than that person who’s hurt or disappointed you. They can treat you better than that. They want you to notice them because you don’t deserve that kind of connections. You should have someone by your side who cares about you, who is there for you and who will always stick with you until the end. Not half hearted or not just for a while. They are tired to see you fall down over and over again searching for the love that you need. They know that all you want and need is someone who can carefully hold your heart and held it dearly without letting it fall when it feels too heavy. That heart will loyally and obediently beat for the one who is willing to mend it. It might take a while but it’s always ready to sacrifice for you. They know all this but they’re angry and frustrated with how you could let yourself feel so worthless just for the sake of love. They just want to run to you and protect you from anyone and any danger that could harm you in anyway. You deserve so much. They are sure of it and if they could they will make sure you get all that. Pile 3, I feel so emotional rn. My heart literally pains a bit. They are really determined to get what they want for you. I’m shaking 😳. Don’t you know who I am talking about? But I feel like they can’t show themself to you rn. There might be hindrance or a distance between you guys which makes it hard for them to get to you. BUT know that they’re watching you, helping you indirectly by sending you positive energy, they really wish for you to be safe and to align with your inner self before anything. They think you’re a little out of balance and drained. Take care of yourself and try to recover first. They want you to know that you should be able to prioritize yourself, do the things you didn’t get to do before. I heard "you can love and be in love with yourself, right?". That’s so thoughtful of them, pile 3. They really care about you and your well-being. And once you’re fully yourself again, they might dare to come closer to you. This seems like a great person, don’t you think pile 3? I don’t get who they are but based on the information I guess it might be someone who is aware of you and knows a lot about you. Could be a one sided crush as well.

Some hints to know who they are:

Muscular body, feels powerless, heart ache, would fight for you, phone, take walks to ease mind, fitness studio, look a little like a "player" but is mindful, might have siblings, quite responsible, a little impulsive but knows how to hold back

The whole song matches their frustration and protectiveness over you ⭒۟ ׁ

Especially this part ⌵

{I know I can treat you better than he can}

{And any girl like you deserves a gentleman}

{Tell me, why are we wasting time}

{On all your wasted crying}

{When you should be with me instead?} …

{I'll stop time for you}

{The second you say you'd like me too}

© 2023 crystaldivination ── all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, edit, alter, or redistribute my work. Plagiarism in any form is prohibited.

I hope you enjoyed it! Likes, reblogs and follows are highly appreciated! I’d love to have some feedbacks as well! Thank you ・❥・

◛⑅·˚ Remember. You’re loved!

[clownsnake]

guys. Astarion wasn’t literally considered a child when he was 30. Among elves he was clearly seen as Of Age to do adult things like drink and live independently and fuck and pay taxes. its just that elves have a stupid extra concept of adulthood that doesn’t MEAN adulthood in a literal sense. has nothing to do with physical or brain development. not even necessarily emotional development, but it kind of is depending on how u interpret it, but I’m getting ahead of myself.

basically elves in the forgotten realms trance instead of sleep (we know this) and until around age 110, during their trances they “dream” of their past lives (I’ve only seen a few ppl who know this, but idk if they also knew it stops at a certain age). They then stop dreaming of their past lives naturally, and it’s generally considered kinda traumatic to go through bc well. you’re losing what has been a fundamental part of yourself for so long.

I interpret that as being like a “shared trauma maturation stage” where instead of elves brains literally becoming more adult, losing the guidance of their past lives feels like more of a final step towards independence to them. and adulthood is just the closest social experience to this stage of being “truly on your own”

around 30-40 they get a “first reflection”, which is when their dreams start having experiences from their current life. (Makes sense for Astarion having a dream about Cazador in origin runs that prompts the biting scene) And then the loss of past life memories at 100-110 is called the drawing of the veil.

Tl;dr Astarion was a young adult by elf standards stop infantilizing him PLEASE

Getting into headcanon land now, feel free to draw your own conclusions from here.

i imagine older elves kind of have a sense of being more “mature” than under-110 elves in the way tht people comparing their trauma tend to do. Like “u think ur so smart and worldly but you haven’t even been through half the shit I’ve been through.” PATRONIZING that’s the word I’m looking for, it’s patronizing. And since every elf goes through this, they just kind of assume that yeah, going through this trauma/emotional loss IS a big step towards being a full adult. so it’s like if the concept of adult had a Pokémon evolution that didn’t involve getting wrinkly and hair loss and going through menopause or erectyle dysfunction. Adult 1.5 steam update.

I have no clue if Astarion would have the drawing of the veil as an undead elf. The fact that he even has dreams shows that being revived as a vampire keeps certain bodily functions running, mainly anything relating to the brain and consciousness, but idk if it would keep him physically at 30 or let his brain change.

Although hold on, in the epilogue where you’re a mind flayer and considering eating Astarions brain, you get narration that’s like “ooohh his brain part that handles senses must be sooo wrinkly” which would only be caused by the shit he went through post-vampirification. Meaning his brain Would be able to change and “mature”. But that’s also just an assumption that mindflayer!tav/durge is making.

k I looked it up. The exact quote is “Astarion’s sweet brain may be a bit less wrinkled than the rest, but you hunger for its teasing cells. His parietal lobe - which controls his sense of touch - will be an aphrodisiac in your maw.” Hilarious, he canonically gets called smooth brain. Anyway if u kill him I don’t think you get to eat his brain, withers just banishes you asap lmao. So we don’t actually know if his parietal lobe changed over his un-life! I’d wager it did though, based on his “don’t touch me” selection line (and probably some other lines hinting towards over-sensitivity tht im forgetting). And change caused by external trauma vs change caused by aging is different anyway.

no conclusion wrt to if he’d reach the drawing of the veil or not. Does it even matter? He’s still the same adult man, who’s gone through far worse hardships than losing memories of his past lives. If he lost his past life dreams too, well then I don’t think that’d make much of a difference for him.

[vaguely-concerned]

I’m on a Star Wars books roll so here we go with my — unhinged thanks for asking! — thoughts on Dooku: Jedi Lost, specifically the audio play. Short version: I fucking loved this one! For maximum emotional devastation, pair with Master and Apprentice and Padawan the way my stupid ass did and then be sad about it forever I guess that's what I’m going to have to do.

 Long (LONG oopsie) version:

- So. First of all, let’s get the most important thing out of the way on this here old man yaoi website. We all agree dooku and sifo dyas explored each other’s bodies right. Or at least definitely would have if not for the laws of this order etc., potentially. That’s not just me. Good. Thank you. We can now move on 

- Secondly. Well. Guess I’m just going to be inconsolable about Sifo-Dyas forever now. I miss the days in which he was just a throwaway line in AotC spawned by a random misspelling to me, rather than an eternal raw aching wound in my heart

- poor poor ventress just reading through all the proof that dooku absolutely does have it in him to be a good dad I mean master and just — idk got tired of that and went the force lightning route with her. I love the move of having her dead master hang out with her all that time as well (having her slip up and refer to ‘us’ did something to me, god this is so sad. Is he actually there in spirit or is it just her grief dreaming him up because dooku is awful and cold as a cliff  wall and she needs some kind of attachment figure even if she’ll have to reinvent him herself, rebuild him word for word, gesture by gesture. Pain. sorry about your terrible track record with father figures asajj) 

- Lene: (About Averross): He hasn’t changed. 

Dooku: (In the warmest fondest voice you ever heard) And I hope he never does

WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH MYSELF? MUST I SET MYSELF ON FIRE TO ESCAPE THE PAIN???

Another strong showing for Rael in general, btw. He’s so warm and charming as a presence even though he’s also a little chaos gremlin. (He’s quite similar to how Sifo-Dyas was when he was young in some ways, I can definitely start to see what Dooku responds warmly to in terms of character traits.) 

- the fact that good ol’ sheev showed an interest in rael, dooku and anakin… interesting huh! He’s just got a soft spot for the disaster lineage I suppose, maybe there’s an element there of luring yoda’s most direct lineage into the dirt with him without yoda even noticing for the longest time. Also cackling at the idea that he looked at qui-gon ‘too fucking stubborn and insufferable to fall to the dark side out of sheer spite’ jinn and went ‘...not that one tho’ fhdskjfa. And obi-wan is more like ‘that one blorbo all my little guys seem wild about but I just don’t get it guys’ 

IF rael’s refusal to join dooku at the end of ‘master and apprentice’ is the last word (which I am not convinced of ;___; be safe cowboy jedi we never see in mainline canon so far), then he’s the only one who has dodged palpatine’s attentions. Wonderful if true love that for him

ALSO rael is one of the few people we know to be on (or at least to consider himself on despite what palps might think lol) first name basis with palpatine. Hilarious. I concur with dooku never change rael 

- Sifo-Dyas: That’s insane. 

Dooku, deadpan: Yes.

Sifo-Dyas: The worst plan I’ve ever heard.

Dooku, somehow even more deadpan: Most probably. 

Sifo-Dyas: I’m in. 

Crying… weeping and dying………… what if someone could have helped sifo with his unfortunate prophecy propensity and they hadn’t drifted apart. Clone Wars averted methinks if dooku still ended up leaving the order he would have been too busy having tender gay sex with the love of his life (and only person who can call him out on his shit and have him actually listen) to be a war criminal (I am being extremely facetious of course this is very much a ‘time traveler killing baby hitler’ situation where the underlying forces causing this point in history are way too powerful to avert the catastrophe in one move. but at least palps would probably have had to pick someone else to wreck the galaxy through and sifo-dyas would be kissed & held instead of going slowly mad. A net plus some (I, me) would say)��

- I just wanted to applaud both the writing and the voice acting for the characterization of Dooku in this, from his young self trying so hard to be haughty and self-possessed but also being like, y’know, twelve and a dweeb and easy for Sifo-Dyas to pull into trouble, to the dry wit and warmth he shows with Rael and Qui-Gon or his sister later. It took me a little while to get into the voice acting specifically (the actor makes no attempt at going the full Christopher Lee, which in hindsight was probably wise), but now I love it. It gets a bit goofy in places but you know what, I am a long time lover of audio plays, that’s part of the charm 

- “Master, have I done something wrong?”

My heart is clenching… do you think… that master yoda’s deal with leaving his student to try fucking everything to have some kind of relationship with him until he just breaks down in tears of despair… is the kind of thing that maybe started a little bit of a generational trauma cartwheel through the ages. The point that bb!dooku is arrogant isn’t without merit and he strikes out incredibly ungracefully about it (in fact I would be a lot more worried than yoda seems to be that he decides to try to kill a tree about it, ‘I felt like destroying something beautiful’-style)  but I just don’t think a… fourteen year old? A teen anyway, Is going to learn what you think he learns from this. I simply don’t believe that silent treatmenting kids will teach them emotional intelligence I guess especially if they already struggle with that naturally lol 

(It is exactly the same mistake (in my opinion) that Qui-Gon makes with Obi-Wan, too, just leaving the kid completely alone and forcing them to come to you every which way for comfort or guidance instead of meeting them or reaching out to them. Especially once you see that really Dooku’s prime emotion/big core wound right from the beginning is loneliness. And that doesn’t only come from a feeling of superiority (which to be sure is also a big factor), because he has no idea where he comes from until he meets his sister. I don’t think the jedi as a whole were unsalvageable by any stretch of the imagination, but Yoda specifically… you are on such very thin ice with me at this point you little green fuck. You’re very funny and moving in yoda dark rendezvous and that’s all that’s keeping you in my somewhat good graces.)

- Okay, coming back a bit later I think I’ve found the right words to say this. more precisely dooku has two big issues which you can later see haunting all the way down his lineage — loneliness and control. (and not incidentally the intersecting elements of the two haha.) We see from his relationship to sifo-dyas that he’s not incapable of having close mutual relationships with an equal, but that kind of crashed and burned for reasons neither of them could really help and after that it seems quite telling that he has the easiest time with deeper connection in a teacher-student sort of form. I think his affection is unconditional and real, but you can’t get away from the fact that he also has the most control in that relationship structure by default, he gets to dictate what form it takes to a big extent. He doesn’t trust other people — the underlying idea ‘Only I can do this’ that eventually leads him down the Separatist path is there the whole way. It speaks both to a sense of superiority and an utter lack of faith that other people can or will help him. And then that echoes down through the master-padawan line: 

Qui-Gon with his self-righteousness and utter refusal to compromise leaving him isolated among the jedi (only he is right. Yeah the Force told him so. Don’t worry I’ve got a permit *insert parks and rec I can do whatever I want meme here*), Obi-Wan with his anxiety and perfectionism and incredible sense of shame and responsibility that he should be able to carry the whole world on his shoulders alone and beating himself up for failing, all feeding into not knowing what to do with Anakin and his complete lack of control of himself and his desperation to gain and maintain connection and love (which earns him the title of ‘Dooku’s least favorite family member’ fhdsa his immediate disdain for him is so funny and so in character. Repress and go slowly mad like a normal person anakin the way you’re carrying on is just undignified and that is much worse than being evil)… 

- Rael gently telling Dooku to take on another padawan soon… so sweet, so sad, local cowboy jedi looking out for his dad. Also highlights something about Dooku I think is true: that he does much better and seems to have an easier time holding to the light when he’s responsible for someone else. Again, I do feel like Dooku’s core problem is loneliness, but it seems like raising kids is the one point where that relaxes somewhat. Maybe if Sifo-Dyas had stayed in a better mental place and they kept in touch it could have been different.

- Lene Kostana is SUCH a character! Charismatic and deeply fucked up, when it’s revealed how her and Sifo-Dyas’ relationship remains long after his padawan stage is done I felt a little bit sick, to my surprise. Because that could just be kindness on her part, of course, it’s good that he has someone he trusts to look after him when he can’t himself, but also there’s something… queasy about the way it keeps him continually young, in a way. (Notably he still calls her ‘master’ even as an adult, when they’re working together. Not uncommon in Star Wars, of course, but together with everything else going on vibes-wise… hm.) The inherent unreliable narration of this story really worked for me in this regard especially — do we know that young Dooku was entirely wrong when he sensed the dark side in her? She certainly is willing to go to lengths that are… worrying! in her fascination with sith shit, she tempted children into a dangerous place they didn’t understand and couldn’t know the consequences of and she continually puts sifo-dyas in situations that are implied to be a risk to worsening his condition. Run of the mill incredibly irresponsible at best, sincerely sinister at worst. Did she choose Sifo over Dooku because he’s more vulnerable and shapeable? There is an undercurrent of something icky and emotionally incest-y going on with how she relates to Dooku and Sifo-Dyas in general (right down to the ‘NO, no one can know about this’ intensity after the… evil moss cave. I can’t believe I’m this emotional about a book with an evil moss cave). I don’t think she’s a proper sith in any way and I also believe there is real affection there on all sides, but idk something about the whole thing makes me deeply uneasy. Yoda where the fuck are you your son is out there with his irresponsible mom again they’re looking for dirty needles in haystacks and they’re not even wearing any gloves

- dooku telling sifo-dyas he can come back to haunt him if he likes as a joke… well well well I’m sure that doesn’t ring with some dramatic irony at some point down the line lmao

- honestly looking back at master and apprentice after reading jedi lost makes qui-gon's apparent lack of reaction to dooku leaving seem — let's call it highly suspect haha. rael asks him if he's spoken to dooku after and qui-gon is like 'no. why would I. it's literally fine. anyway this topic is done now'. (and rael seems to just go ‘*older brotherly knowing* uh-huh’) meanwhile he's thinking about dooku *all the time* trying to figure out his role as master to obi-wan, thinking about being a padawan himself, the parts of his life he shared with both dooku and rael. The jedi doth protest too much methinks  

ALSO how much of qui-gon thinking the council was too lenient with rael after he had to kill his padawan is about that actual situation, and how much is a ‘our family still likes my older brother more than me even though he Fucked Up so bad and breaks just as many rules as I do’ sort of deal mixed with his own neuroses about how he’s failing obi-wan (to which rael’s situation symbolizes the worst possible outcome, i.e. the kid dies and it’s basically your fault). Many thoughts. 

- moment of silence for jenza of house serenno. Girl your only sin was being surrounded by asshole male family members and I’m so sorry I think you did all you could with what you had to work with here.

Not… entirely sure how dooku’s claim to the title supersedes hers — is he a year older than her? (she’s eleven when they first meet, he might be twelve or older at that point I don’t remember haha) Does she just give up her place in the inheritance order? Are primogeniture and male heir preference factors in Serenno inheritance law? Not the most important thing honestly it works anyway thematically but could have been clarified quickly!

- interesting to see that the council’s restrictive policy against engaging with prophecies had a surprisingly big impact on how things went down. Kostana has a lot of responsibility in Sifo’s fate for insisting he keep it secret, but there is genuine fear for what might become of him if the rest of the order finds out he’s got 24/7 futurevision hovering over him threateningly… listen it’s not like the poor guy can help getting the future constantly pumped into his brain at nightmare resolutions, I think maybe if there had been more willingness to at least engage curiously with the concept of prophecy and how it works, even if you don’t put your faith in the particulars of what the prophecies say, this wouldn’t have had to be such a shitty isolated secretive life for him. hearing him slowly fall apart over the years considering how bright and lovely he started out... oof is all I can say 

- when dooku was a good jedi he was such a good jedi!!! The scene where they’re saving the kids from the collapsing hospital, every time he teaches his students anything…the impulse of someone has to do something about this! that made him so good at saving lives turning dark with the tarnish of frustration and rage over the years… nooooooooo problematic grandpa why did it have to be like this :(

- …do you think infant jedi can sense what’s going on around them in the Force. Because it makes a very sad kind of sense if dooku on some level remembers bodily or in the Force that he was not only abandoned but rejected in disgust as one of the first things he discovered in the world. Oh boy. With all the ways attachment relationships can go wonky in the first few years in real life I don’t even want to consider how much more wrong it can go when the baby is fucking psychic lol

- vaguely related: the way dooku seems to find the very idea of being truly reliant on anyone, emotionally or otherwise, personally offensive, terrifying and humiliating lol. Yoda saves him from being crushed by rubble and he is outraged because that means he can’t save himself (and his newfound sister) without anyone’s help like he thought for one glorious moment he could. The fantasy of perfect emotional self-sufficiency, doing away with all the messiness and risk of interpersonal relationships and cutting off the possibility of really being abandoned again. It’ll get ya every time. This is also a thing you see reflected in his lineage — they’re all quite inward-turning that way until you get to anakin, to different extents and with varying presentations but it is there I think. Qui-Gon turns to the Force, Obi-Wan to perfectionism and shame and rumination, Rael to the bottle and depression and hedonistic apathy, but they all struggle hugely with letting anyone in to help them. Dooku’s line are all much more comfortable being the helpers rather than the helpees, as it were.  

- “Thank you for everything, Lene. Tell Rael and Qui-Gon — tell them… tell them the Force will be with them, always”

Emotional terrorism against me specifically and personally. You asshole you just excused yourself from the non-attachment rules there’s literally nothing in the world except you to stop you from reaching out and telling your children you love them yOURSELF why are you like this

- the recurring theme of dooku seeing something beautiful (the tree in the temple, the tirra’taka as a child and an adult) and ending up lashing out to destroy it… but the tree was old and mighty and he was young and new and couldn’t truly harm it, so he was saved from his own impulsivity. And then when he sees the tirra’taka as an adult he loves it immediately. And in the end he still mangles and destroys it. He didn’t mean to, but he did. He woke it up and hurt it just by existing as a child and then he had to kill it as a mercy because he was too powerful at that point for anything to buffer his mistakes. The parallel with the bird he loved that he also couldn’t protect. He starts out with an aching loneliness somewhere at the core of him through no real fault of his own but by the end it is entirely his own fault that it’s worse, because he starts wrecking everything he loves in an almost absent-minded but definitely intentional way, like it’s a nightmare he’s listening to through the door as it happens in the next room over. He really IS the ‘I just felt like destroying something beautiful’ central of the jedi.

at the end qui-gon is dead and through dooku’s own influence, however indirectly. Rael has had to turn away from him. Sifo-Dyas is dead on Dooku’s own orders and so is his sister, he might as well have done it with his own hands. (though I think it’s very interesting that in each case he didn’t do it with his own hands, he consistently uses a middleman.) He lives within the coldness of his sterile empty castle and horrifically mistreats the one person he might have found something like connection with the way he did with his students before (Ventress), deliberately trapping her in a similar state of utter desolate isolation and telling her, essentially, ‘We’re like this as people and nothing can be done to change it. We can’t escape, we’re already doomed, stop trying, it’s too late. You are just like me (and if you aren't already I'll make you like me)’. And that’s the closest thing he gets to love anymore. When he accused Ky of using her ‘as a salve for his own loneliness’ and you’re like well well well mr projection man how’s that working out for you. He is completely, shatteringly alone and he is so entirely as a consequence of his own actions and he's too far gone to understand or care. I’m howling you useless fucking FOOL dooku  

- dooku 🤝 john gaius

“Hm. I have observed that there are in fact many flaws in our society and the government is deeply corrupt. So if I kill a few billion people here and there in order to fix it, is that not basically okay when you really think about it” 

Dooku making salient points about the political and ethical failures of the Republic and then, just when you think he’s onto something, he goes and makes The wildest fucking decisions about what to do about it. Sure. dark magic and genocide are probably the only ways out of this you’re so right bro. If we make enough minuses to add together surely we’ll end up in plus sooner or later

- *head in my hands once more* I can’t believe I am genuinely emotionally invested in someone called Count Dooku with the looks of a knockoff dracula and ultimate moral character to match right now this is terrible. hey. hey dooks. what you have to go and fuck everything up so bad for huh I’m so incredibly sad now

there is something to be said about how getting to see glimpses of what dooku looked like in the light makes it so much more heartwrenching that he never came back. he could have, a thousand times. and every time he chose not to.

[brinabees]

Up in Smoke (Wild and Eager Pt. 3)

Part 1 | Part 2

3.7k words, dbf!Joel, Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Joel gets you, his best friend's "innocent" daughter, stoned and has his way with you

Content: 18+ MDNI! Marijuana use, oral (f recieving), titfuck, facial, overuse of pet names

Notes: This one is particularly self-indulgent. Shot out to @toxicanonymity for writing the pervy stoner Joel of my dreams.

You were in Joel’s apartment. Joel’s apartment! You’d never been to his place before, never had a reason to until you’d started... Whatever it is the two of you had started. 

You’d been shocked when Joel had slipped the paper with his address written on it into your hand the day before, when he’d been at your place to talk with your father. It was a refreshing change, having him come to you for once. It seemed, perhaps, as if Joel was no longer avoiding you, as if he’d finally accepted he couldn’t stay away. 

“Come by tomorrow and we’ll have some fun,” he whispered into your ear as he passed you the note when your dad had gone into his room to look for something. 

Getting out of your place proved more difficult than you’d hoped. Your dad thoroughly interrogated you about where you were going, who you were meeting, when you’d be home... For Christ’s sake, you were a grown woman and your father still treated you like you were sixteen. You’d made up a story about going to see a friend from your school days, telling him you’d be home before curfew.

When he’d finally let you go, you’d rushed your way through the QZ, hoping you wouldn’t run into any trouble passing through the FEDRA control point you’d have to pass through on your way to Joel’s. You got by without much fuss, and then you finally found yourself knocking on the door of his apartment. Joel had greeted you without so much as a hello, clearly not in the best mood. Not for long, if you had anything to say about it. You knew how to make him happy, very happy. 

“What’s wrong?” you asked. 

“Nothin’ for you to worry about, just a deal that didn’t go quite to plan.”

“What happened?” you continued questioning him, not about to let it go just because he said so.

“Just a buyer who was low on ration cards. Almost had to teach the guy a lesson about swindling me.” You had a feeling Joel’s methods for teaching a bad customer a lesson were a lot more violent than when he’d taught you a lesson with his magnificent cock. “In the end the guy coughed up a pack of joints to cover the rest, but it still means I’m low on cards,” he huffed. 

“Then why’d you accept joints, if you really needed the cards? Are they really worth it?”

“Sure, the high’ll make the time pass as pleasantly as anything.”

“Oh, ok. I’ve never tried it before so I just didn’t know.”

“You ain’t never smoked pot before?” Joel asked, incredulous. “Damn, your Daddy really has you sheltered, doesn’t he?”

You don’t respond, embarrassed by your own inexperience. Joel always had the upper hand on you when it came to experience, both in a sexual sense and in more general terms. You resented how much your dad held you back from trying anything new, from taking any risks. Perhaps that’s why you enjoyed taking risks with Joel so much?

“That’s ok hun’, lucky for you, you know me. Gon’ open your mind up for ya,” he drawled, grinning at you from where he sat on his couch. At least his mood seemed to be lightening already. You went to sit down next to Joel, your body a little stiff with nerves at the new situation. “None of that, sweet girl, don’t get shy on me now,” he said, grabbing your legs and swinging them over his lap and wrapping his arm around your back so you were held close to his chest. His comfort with this kind of casual physicality surprised you, seeing as he’d always been so reluctant to touch you before. His other hand landed on your thigh, bared below the hem of your shorts, and he began stroking up and down your leg. You felt goosebumps break out over your skin at the pleasure his touch induced. “You’ll wanna be nice and relaxed when you try this, baby girl.” 

You settled further against his chest and smiled up at him. Pleased with your newly calm demeanor, Joel reached forward and picked up the pack of joints off the makeshift coffee table. He took one out, returning the rest to the table and picking up a silver lighter. He put the joint between his lips, and you couldn’t stop staring at the way they looked wrapped around it. He flicked the lighter open with his free hand and proceeded to light the joint, and take a long, drawn out hit. He exhaled a cloud of smoke, and you wrinkled your nose at the unfamiliar scent. 

“Your turn, pretty girl,” he said, offering you the joint. 

“I just inhale, right?”

“Yeah. Start slow or else you’ll cough up a lung, and hold in the smoke as long as ya can.”

You started to wonder if this was such a good idea, letting a man with Joel’s reputation get you high, alone in his apartment where he could do whatever he wanted to you. But, to be honest, the thrill of it made your legs clench together in pleasure. 

You grasped the joint between your forefinger and thumb, bringing it to your lips and taking a drag. As soon as the smoke hit your airway, you began coughing violently. Joel rubbed your back as you coughed, chuckling slightly. 

“Don’t... *cough* laugh.. *cough* at me... *cough* asshole!” You got out as best you could while your lungs were on fire. 

When you’d calmed down a bit, Joel said, “Go on, try again, not so much this time and you’ll be fine.” You took another drag, inhaling as slowly as you could. The fire in your lungs was still there, but more manageable as you held in the smoke as long as you could take it. You finally blew out the smoke right into Joel’s face. “There you go, good girl.”

You could feel your head getting a little fuzzy. You weren’t quite sure if you liked it or not, but Joel smiled encouragingly at you, so you took another hit. You felt your body getting heavier and starting to tingle lightly all over. “What’s it supposed to feel like, Joel?”

“It’s gon’ make you feel good baby, trust me. It’ll make you extra sensitive, and it’ll make you happy too. Might start finding everything a lil’ funny.” You could already feel what he meant about the sensitivity; everywhere your body touched his felt like little sparks were zinging through your skin. You brought the joint to your lips and inhaled once more, already able to take a longer drag without coughing. “Hey now, don’t go gettin’ greedy on me,” Joel said as he plucked the joint out of your hand and took a hit himself. You giggled a little at that as he blew the smoke right into your face. Suddenly you couldn’t stop giggling, not at anything in particular. It just felt good to laugh. 

Joel looked down at you where you rested in his lap, a warm look in his eyes. He leaned down and cut off your laughter with a kiss. That shut you up real quick. His warm, soft mouth covered yours, lips sliding against your own. Though it started off gentle, the kiss quickly heated as he opened his mouth and probed the seam of your lips with his tongue. You granted him access and kissed him back, luxuriating in the feel of it. He tasted good, like his usual flavor, but tinged with smoke. You kept kissing for what could have been an hour or mere minutes, your sense for the passage of time completely thrown off by the drug coursing through your system. 

When he finally pulled back, you looked up at him and asked, “What was that for?”

“Nothin’, you’re just cute when you’re stoned.” You grinned like an idiot. He took another puff off the joint before offering it to you once more. You felt so good already, you didn’t see the harm in taking another hit. As soon as the smoke left your lungs, you felt different. Maybe it was his passionate kiss, maybe it was the weed... Whatever it was, you suddenly felt your cunt pulsating between your legs, your nipples growing hard and sensitive to the fabric covering them. 

“Joel, I feel... funny.”

“Funny how, darlin’?” You flushed with embarrassment as you felt yourself getting wet, your pussy clenching around nothing. You squirmed in his lap, squeezing your thighs together seeking some relief. Joel snubbed the joint out in an ashtray and put it down. 

“I just...” You decided you’d rather show him than tell him, so you grabbed his now free hand and guided it beneath the waistband of your shorts, down to where you were dripping with need. He let out a small, hushed, “oh” in understanding.

His fingers barely dragged through your wet seam, but it was already enough to make you jolt in his arms. He drew his fingers back out of your shorts and brought them to his lips, sucking them voraciously. “So tasty, baby girl.” You gazed at him with wide eyes as he tasted you, the need throbbing between your legs only growing more urgent. 

“Joel, please help me,” you begged, voice quaking with desire. 

“Aw, is my poor baby feeling needy? Weed makes you horny, huh?” You nodded your head, blushing. “If only your daddy knew what a desperate slut you are for me. Does my sweet girl wanna be my little stoner slut?” The hand not cradling you to his chest fell to your thigh, stroking sensual circles as it got closer and closer to the apex of your thighs. It felt like his fingers were leaving a path of fire in their wake, your skin so sensitive to every move he made. 

“Yes, Joel I’ll be anything you want me to be, just touch me.”

“I am touching you, baby,” Joel squeezed you tighter towards his chest, smiling with false innocence behind his eyes. 

“Touch me here,” you placed a hand between your legs to indicate your throbbing mound, fingers brushing against his where they still rested on your upper thigh. 

“My desperate girl needs her pussy touched, huh? I think that can be arranged.” As he spoke, he grasped you in his arms and stood, slipping a hand under your legs to support you. He turned around and sat you where he had been on the couch, before kneeling down in front of you. “Gon’ touch that sweet cunt for you, don’t worry.” Just the anticipation of it made you moan.

Joel's hands came to the front of your shorts, unbuttoning and unzipping them so he could slide them down your legs. Rather than removing your underwear and getting to work, he reached for your shirt, unbuttoning it from top to bottom, revealing your bare breasts and stomach. Your head was spinning too much to protest his detour from your poor, needy cunt. Joel groaned as he took you in, head lolling back a bit, shirt falling open around you, panties growing visibly damp. “Oh sweet baby, you need it so bad, don’t ya?”

“Yes, god damn it Joel! I need you, please please please.” He got up on his knees and leaned forward, dropping his greedy mouth to one of your nipples, rolling it against his tongue as he sucked it between his lips. One of his hands rose to your other nipple, pinching it hard. You let out a delighted squeak at that. His mouth began pressing hot kisses to the underside of your breast, your sternum, moving down to your stomach. As he reached the waistband of your panties, he paused to smile up at you wickedly, eyes flaring with desire. 

He hooked one finger into the crotch of your underwear, pulling it aside to reveal your damp slit. “Damn baby, she really does need me, doesn’t she? So pretty and wet and throbbing for me. Just from a little weed, you insatiable slut.” His words came out with a sense of reverence, as if he couldn’t believe his luck. 

Finally, finally, he dropped his mouth between your parted thighs and placed a gentle kiss to your hooded clit. Even the tender touch made you jump, your senses were so heightened from the drug. His tongue flicked out of his mouth, lapping at your clit before swiping down between your inner folds and teasing at your pulsing hole. Everywhere his mouth trailed, you felt sparks igniting in your delicate flesh. He paused briefly to hook his fingers under your panties and drag them down your legs. 

As quickly as he’d stopped, he was back again, pushing his tongue inside of you, swirling it around your opening. You let out a high, keening noise, overwhelmed by the sensation. It felt so much more than when he’d touched you before. And that was really saying something, considering how hard he’d made you come in the past. Your hands came to grasp at his hair, gently pushing his head further into you as you ground your hips against his tongue. With every roll of your hips, you felt his nose nudging your clit, sending bursts of pleasure through your whole body. 

“Fuck, Joel, feels so good.” Your head rolled back against the couch as Joel continued his ministrations and you kept grabbing roughly at his hair, trying to get him closer. His mouth dragged its way back up to your clit, latching around it and sucking hard. You shrieked in pleasure, unable to contain yourself. When you closed your eyes, you could see stars bursting in the darkness behind your eyelids. You’d never felt so much in your life. As he continued suckling at your oversensitized clit, he dipped two fingers into your wet hole, pumping them in and out, curling them towards the most delicious spot inside of you as he went. You looked down at him, and the sight of his eyes gazing up at you, boring into yours, pushed you over the edge into oblivion. 

You screamed, really screamed, as you came, hands still clenched in Joel’s messy curls. You’d never felt anything quite like it; the intensity of your orgasm shocked you. He kept licking you through it, fingers still caressing your tight passage. As you started to come back down to earth, you pulled Joel’s head back and away from your oversensitized cunt. Fuck. The sight of Joel with your wetness covering his whole lower face was too much for you. He looked so depraved, so self-satisfied, it made your pussy clench all over again. 

“Fuck. Joel, that was...” Words failed you.

“Good?”

“Great. Like, life altering levels of great.” He grinned at that, rising up and leaning into you, dropping his lips to yours and kissing you hard and slow. The taste of your own juices on his lips made you fucking feral with desire for him all over again. As he pulled back, you glanced down at the impressive bulge in his jeans. You wanted to repay him for the amazing experience he’d just given you. But how?

Joel flopped down next to you on the couch, not seeming all too concerned with his own situation. Maybe it was the lingering effects from the joint you’d smoked, or maybe it was the afterglow of your incredible orgasm, but you wanted so badly to please him, to let him have his way with you. When he made no move to do so, you brought your hand to cup his throbbing bulge, squeezing gently. He glanced sideways at you, saying “You don’t need to worry about me, sweet thing, you just experienced a lot, must be tired.”

“But Joel,” you pouted, “I want to make you feel good too.” He smirked back at you. “What have you been wanting to do to me, Joel? I’ll let you do it, whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want, eh? That’s a mighty dangerous offer you’re making there, naughty girl. What if your poor dad knew his sweet little daughter would let his best friend do anything to you? Might outright break him.” 

“Well he doesn’t need to know, now does he. So there’s nothing stopping you from taking full advantage of me in my inebriated state,” you argued, flushing at the thought of what he might do to you. 

“Fuck, baby girl, what don’t I wanna do to you? Wanna fuck you six ways to sunday. Wanna bend you over and spank that sweet ass ‘til it’s raw. Wanna bury myself between those tits and come all over your pretty face.” He grinned wickedly as he saw your eyes widen at that last one. You wanted that too. Wanted all of it, too. So, you wordlessly laid down on your back, drawing the two halves of your shirt apart to reveal your breasts to him, squeezing them together enticingly. “Fuck, you really will let me do anything, won’t ya?” You nodded seriously, making sure he got the message. 

He was quick to climb over you on the couch, straddling your stomach and undoing his jeans. He was quick to pull them down far enough to free his cock from his briefs so he could line the tip up with your cleavage. You continued to press your tits together for him as he began to thrust forward, dick disappearing into your soft mounds. He let out a strangled groan as he moved, picking up the pace immediately, fucking your tits just like he said he would. You looked down, watching as his flared head, beaded with precum, appeared and disappeared from the top of your cleavage. Fuck, it looked so good, you couldn’t help yourself from darting your tongue out to lick at his tip, causing him to moan deeply. He slowed his pace a little, letting you get your mouth around his tip each time he thrust forward. 

“God damn it baby, so fucking hot, so eager for this cock. Gonna paint that pretty face of yours with my cum, make you look like a real whore.” You moaned around his tip at his words. Suddenly, he grasped your hair with one hand and tilted your head back, no longer allowing you to get your mouth on him. The speed of his thrusts picked back up, causing your breasts to bounce and jiggle as he fucked them. 

“Come on Joel. Come all over my face, paint me in your cum.” It was your words that sent him over the edge, coming with a roar as he shot ropes of cum up and onto your face. Some of his spend fell on your lips, and you couldn’t help but lick it up, enjoying his salty taste. Even in his post-orgasmic haze, the move wasn’t lost on Joel.

“Fuck, wild thing, you’re just so hungry for that cum, aren’t ya? Bet you couldn’t wait for me to come all over you. Bet you’d walk home covered in me if I asked, like a good little slut.”

You hated to admit it, but fuck, he was right. You really would do anything he wanted you too.

“Too bad we can’t have your daddy catchin’ wind of what a whore his little girl is,” he said as he stood and walked into the bathroom, fetching a washcloth to clean you up with. You smiled as he returned and gently wiped the cum off your face.

“So,” he began, flopping back down on the couch next to you and pulling your legs over his lap, “what’d you think? Of the weed, I mean.”

“What did I think, Joel? I think it’s pretty obvious I fucking loved it. It made me want you so bad, made me so fucking sensitive.” He grinned back at you, matching the dopey smile you couldn’t seem to wipe off your face. 

“Fuck, if I’d known it would make you so insatiable, I’d have gotten you stoned ages ago.” You both laughed at that. This was nice. Relaxing with him after your passionate antics. 

“Thank you Joel, really. I feel like I’ve missed out on so much because of my dad’s stupid rules. It’s nice exploring these things with you.”

“You’re welcome baby,” he answered, reaching out a hand to stroke your hair. 

You didn’t know how long you two lingered like that, cuddled together on his couch. It could have been minutes, could have been an hour. All you knew was you never wanted it to end.

“Shit,” Joel said suddenly, breaking you from your revery. “What time is it?” You shrugged your shoulders at him, too blissed out to worry about anything as silly as the time. “Fuck, baby, it’s past 6, we missed curfew. How the hell am I gonna get you back home now?”

That roused you from your pleasurable haze. “Shit, Joel, my dad’s gonna kill me if I don’t come home.”

“I know, baby girl, but we can’t go sneaking around after curfew and risk getting you caught. FEDRA’ll string you up for that.”

You breathed deeply, trying to come up with a plan of action. “Ok. Here’s what we’re gonna do. I’m gonna stay the night here, and in the morning I’ll tell my dad I was at a friend’s place and lost track of time. He never has to know.” Joel looked wary at your plan, but nodded his head anyways.

“Ok baby, but you better make damn sure your daddy never finds out the truth.” You sat up and looked straight into his eyes.

“Promise, he’ll never know” You leaned forward to press a quick, reassuring kiss to his lips, before getting up and strolling over to his bed. “And you’ll have me all to yourself for the whole night. Maybe this isn’t such a bad thing after all,” you said with a wicked smile gracing your face. 

Joel’s eyes darkened at that. Yeah, this would definitely be worth the chewing out you’d get from your dad about staying out past curfew. You’d make sure of that.

Taglist (in its infancy, if you wanna be added let me know!):

@bluetattoos

[honeybewrites]

OC Questionnaire Tag

Thank you @the-golden-comet for the tag, @wyked-ao3 for the tag @the-letterbox-archives for the tag and @ominous-feychild for the tag!! And they you guys for being patient! I know a couple of you tagged me in this a while ago, so sorry for the wait!!

Once again, long post!

Fres

How many people have you killed?

Far more than you would expect, or maybe not if you know me. I can’t actually give you a number. I lost track a long time ago and if we’re counting indirect killings, like building collapses and fires, that number goes up really quickly. Thankfully I don’t do much killing nowadays, and the ones I do kill, well, let’s just say they deserve it.

Favorite type of drink?

Coffee. Hands down. Throw in some flavors and creamer and I can drink five of those puppies in a day easily. It’s a small problem admittedly l…

Do you smoke?

No. I have before, when I was in the Mors and a certain undercover assignment required it, but I don’t do it if my own free will. I don’t like the smell or the taste of it in the slightest.

Asset 703

Life stranded on an island or life as a prisoner?

Island. Easily. I would be completely alone. No Mors, no war. Just me and the ocean. It would be… peaceful. I used to dream about that. Moving to an unknown island in the middle of nowhere… obviously I grew out of that. Just a childish fantasy.

Would you wear a dress?

I have, on many occasions. Certain missions require it. I don’t particularly mind. Though I hate having to wear all the glamours to hide my scars.

What is your most traumatic memory?

I… don’t think that’s relevant information. I can’t risk that information getting into the wrong hands. I was scarred from it. Physically I mean. I wouldn’t wish it upon anyone…

Rage Airvix

What's your relationship with your family like?

It’s alright. I haven’t seen them in quite a few years and we don’t agree on a lot of things. Me and my older sister Cadi were always close. I haven’t been able to see her in person for three years now, but we still talk a couple times a month. I miss her.

Do you have any hobbies? If so, what ones?

I like reading! I have quite the collection on my estate. Lots of rare editions, signed copies. It’s pretty valuable. I also dabble in alchemy and I like anything that has to do with being outside like hiking or gardening.

Do you dream often? What about?

It kind of goes in waves I guess? I’ll have a longer stretch of dreams and nightmares for a couple months, and then it kind of goes away. Most of the time it’s memories or complete utter nonsense. Half the time I don’t even remember them. Except the nightmares. I generally remember those.

Fres

What was the worst day of your life?

As weird as it sounds, the day I left the Mors. Don’t get me wrong, I was happy to be free but… I thought [redacted] was coming with me. In the end she chose the Mors and we went our separate ways. I wouldn’t hesitate to fight her now.

What's your worst nightmare?

The Mors capturing me. I know exactly what they would do and I wouldn’t be able to escape them a second time. It terrifies me to think about.

If a monster asked you your worst nightmare, what would you tell it and why?

Honestly, I’d probably lie. Who knows what its intentions are? But if I had to tell the truth, I wouldn’t even say anything; I would just show it all the damage the Mors have caused.

Leaving this one as an open tag!! Mostly because I’m on mobile and can’t easily see who I’ve tagged before lol

Your Questions:

Sun or moon?

Would you rather drown or be buried alive?

Pumpkin spice or apple cider?

[bunnypansy]

Twst as K-Pop Groups!

Rated E, for EVERYONE!

A short film exploring a Twisted Wonderland Idol AU!

Featuring: All the dorms + Che'nya and a Neige mention

Beware! This film contains: really bad kpop group names, smoking mention, otherwise I think it's fine

Heartslaybul

Group name: LVBZ (Luver Boyz), I wanted to lean into the heart theme for that classic boygroup feel

Fandom name: Rozes, for obvious reasons

While Riddle is the obvious answer for leader, Trey is the right answer. Responsible older brother Trey is probably deeply underappreciated in the group. I feel like he’s probably been in a group that disbanded early before, (cough, Che’nya, Trey, Riddle group anyone?) and has a bit of a tired vibe. He writes a good handful of the songs since he plays the guitar, but he’s actually not crazy about pop. They definitely share a dorm and Trey made a chore chart for them.

Riddle is definitely taking the position of vocalist and center, he’s probably really strict about his training and exercise, he was a trainee for a loooong time and after his last group he’s kinda nervous. His mom used to be a very popular vocalist, but you’ll never catch him with nepo baby claims because he’s so intense. Besides LVBZ Riddle also does some modeling on the side and will probably end up in a drama of some kind.

Cater is absolutely giving “has so many predebut photos” energy. From vlives, to vlogs, cooking videos, asmr videos, tiktoks, instagram posts, Cater is all over their social media like crazy. He’s got a pretty good public image, always interacting with fans, the only thing is- he's a chronic content farmer, it's like so bad guys. At least his aegyo is actually cute? He’s the face and probably a sub vocalist of some kind, but definitely writes the lot of their songs. Seems like the type who has a very good image but chainsmokes/vapes on the side.

RAPPER DEUCE. Okay normal again. But he totally fits the rapper vibes, I can’t stress how well it fits. Has the most embarrassing predebut photos known to man, lots of him with badly dyed hair and he probably had a bullying scandal really early into his career. Extremely awkward aegyo, fans love him cus he comes off as cute but very genuine, fan favorite.

At this point I’ve put all the basketball boys as dancers but can you blame me? Ace reeks of high energy dancer who kinda sucks ass at singing. He tries really, but just let him be the main dancer and a sub rapper! Ace and Deuce used to go to the same highschool predebut and did not get along. Don't leave this guy alone with fans, not because he's going to do anything criminal- he's just gonna say some dumb shit. Spill a secret, be generally kinda dickish- just. Don't do it, fanservice is not Ace’s strong suit

Their discography is kinda all over the place but I feel like that’s the Heartslaybul vibe? I tried to keep it light and sort of… classic boy group vibes. I'm not really into light concept boy groups so this was difficult for me. (I wrote this before I listened to zb1’s debut. They are zb1)

Debut song: Kitsch by IVE

Other tracks: In Bloom by Zb1; Very Nice by Seventeen; Attention by New Jeans; Sour Grapes by Lesserafim; Blue Flame by Lesserafim; Best Friend Ever by NCT Dream

Solo releases:  One and Only by Gowon of Loona (Riddle); Anti-romantic by TXT (Trey)

Savanaclaw

Group name: BxB (Boy X Beast), I swear I wasn’t trying to copy TXT that hard

Fandom name: BOB (Be Our Best), because fans “make them their best”. It’s so bad but this is intentional

Leona is the leader but honestly he doesn’t do much to corral anyone. He’s definitely been in a couple groups that have done very poorly and can’t stop getting compared to his more successful brother- a recently retired soloist. Worse, he gets tons of “he’s a lazy dancer” and “nepo baby” comments from fans. He’s a bit jaded, and for good reason. He’s not much of a dancer, moreso acting as the visual and vocalist in his group and chances are he’s done an acting gig or two. Leona does a lot of low energy vlives, it's like him eating fried chicken in the dark while barely talking on camera. Refuses to do any cutesy fanservice, ask him to look hot? Done and done. Aegyo? Ask Ruggie.

Ruggie is the face of the group, everyone on the planet has seen him busking before and during his trainee period, not to mention he’s funny, fans love him. He’s also carrying the rapper position, and often gets center, but he and Leona are honestly neck and neck in that area. Ruggie's pretty good aegyo but he literally always laughs afterwards. So many memes of the dumb faces he makes while laughing.

Jack iiiis the dancer, so many first years were subjected to dancer and rapper sorry guys. He’s tried to write songs but only a couple have really panned out- the others are encouraging though! Obviously maknae, endless jokes about being GIANT despite being the youngest. Somehow he seems to take this the most serious despite being the newest to this?

Their sound is very classically masculine, as is Savanaclaw’s vibe. If they barked in the song I legally had to add it

Debut song: Clap by Seventeen

Other Tracks: Superbowl by SKZ; Wonderland by ATEEZ; Wolfgang by SKZ (sorry it was too funny not to); (Grrr 총량의 법칙) BEWARE by SKZ; My Pace by SKZ; Boxer by SKZ; Bouncy by ATEEZ

Solo releases: None

Octavinelle

Group name: TYDE (“Take Your Dreams Everywhere”), I went the EXiD route with this one, it was a little too funny not to

Fandom name: Tied, because TYDE is tied to them 

Oh my god. Despite being my favorite dorm, Octavinelle gave me a fuckin hell of a time to put together, I just did not have a clear vision for them at all. I’m going with Azul, even though I considered leader Jade for a little bit, simply because I think Azul is the kind of leader who designs a bunch of merch for the fans- a la the VIXX thong. He’s rocking with the visual, center, and vocalist position. He comes off as a very smooth and self assured leader, but let’s be honest he’s the only one in the group who’s having a panic attack before award shows. I think he probably had a really hard time as a trainee and can’t let that go just yet.

Jade doesn’t get any kind of strong spot in the lineup somehow, despite there only being three members, he definitely ends up a bit in the background. But Jade doesn’t mind! He honestly doesn’t care much for the spotlight and is mostly here because Azul and Floyd are. He writes all the songs for their group, no arguments.

So we all know Floyd is the dancer, guy canonically loves dancing, but he’s also going to steal the rapper position. This is because rappers are always the weird ones in the group, and by god is Floyd the weird one. He always gets styled extremely strangely, I mean every time he steps on stage he ends up in a new “worst outfits in kpop” list. Floyd ends up being the face because he’s such a standout, not to mention the fact he keeps… showing up with other groups. Is there a vlive happening? Somehow Floyd interrupts. Another group practicing? Not without Floyd they’re not. He’s even managed to be in the background of several MVs (think OOH-AHH Chan). Floyd seems to just know everyone everywhere. 

Holy hell okay their music gave me a hard time too. Octavinelle is so solidified as jazz in my head that trying to think of anything else for them gave me an aneurysm.I struggled so much that yeah I’m breaking and adding one or two japanese songs, sorry guys

Debut Song: Mafia In The Morning by Itzy

Other Tracks: Dice by Nmixx; First by Everglow (tell me Azul wouldn’t tear up those vocals?? Get Floyd on the chorus? Screaming); Play with Fire by Camellia (covered by ツバサ【歌の部屋】 if you need to hear a human sing it); Black Suit by Super Junior 

Solo releases: ViViD by Heejin of Loona (Azul); Villain by Stella Jang (Azul)

Scarabia

Group name: Wysper (Honestly not happy with either of the names but I can’t think of anything better)

Fandom name: Wishes

Okay they’re complex because. Uh. Jamil is basically doing everything. He’s the most talented  dancer, rapper, vocalist; it’s just that Kalim is the face. Aaaand the center. Despite being a trainee for a way shorter amount of time, despite not being as skilled as Jamil, Kalim took first place in the competitive show they both participated in. Very bitter. Jamil tries to keep it on the down-low but their relationship is definitely suffering from favoritism.

Kalim has probably been a star for a very long time, I’m talking child star levels of fame and already had a fan base by the time he and Jamil debuted. He’s got amazing charisma and stage presence, not to mention Kalim is taking first place as the aegyo king. However, the nepo baby allegations are through the ROOF, seeing as his family straight up owns the company he and Jamil debuted under. That’s not to say he doesn’t try! He works hard, but it’s not going to save him, especially when he’s getting a billion offers from modeling companies and fashion brands, when Jamil isn’t.

I can’t describe what their sound is exactly? I feel like it’s somewhere close to reggaeton with a bit of bollywood/southeast asia

Debut song: You cannot tell me Paint The Town by Loona is not THE Wysper song. It’s literally so perfect I was angry I didn’t think of it earlier. Kalim on the light verses, Jamil on the chorus? Insane. 

Other tracks: Icky by Kard; Charmer by SKZ; Cake by Kard; Ring the Alarm by Kard; Tinnitus by TXT; SHOOT! by Itzy; Red Moon by Kard

Solo releases: Singing in the Rain by JinSoul of Loona (Kalim)

Pomefiore

Group name: FoE (Fruit of Evil), I wanted to lean into the lip/biting themes for them and pick something that felt suitably sexy

Fandom name: Bites

Vil has to be the leader obviously, but he’s also the face, visual and vocalist- let’s be real he’s the most favored of the group and everyone knows it. He was definitely an actor before this, he probably ended up in the group because of an elimination show that he won and then got the privilege of picking all his other members. He for sure has some solo releases, brand deals, modeling gigs- Vil is the it boy of their generation, the kind of idol everyone knows. Definitely a massive one-sided rivalry with Neige, because Neige was probably in a NCT Dream type group as a kid, then went solo when he got older and became incredibly successful. Vil is endlessly jealous.

Rook was probably a runner up in the same show as Vil and fully admitted to being a massive fan while on the show. He’s the best dancer in the group, probably the center, and writes the majority of the songs cus I know this weird fucker likes poetry. Rook is guy who’s a fan before he’s an idol, definitely has a room full of merchandise, people have caught him buying albums of his favorite group

Epel is the maknae, obviously, and was probably previously a background dancer. Vil saw him and picked him up by the scruff of his neck. He’s definitely the only real rapper of the group and can dance pretty well, but this is not the kind of group he wanted to be in. Epel was probably hoping for a concept a bit more like BxB but we don’t all get what we wish for

I listened to Nude while making this and it changed my entire vibe for their group. They’re just (g)-idle. If the music makes you wanna worship a woman it belongs to FoE.

Debut song: Love Dive by IVE

Other Tracks: Nude by (g)-idle; Oh my God by (g)-idle; Villain Dies by (g)-idle; Snapping by Chung Ha; Do Not Touch by Misamo of Twice; Cry For Me by Twice

Solo releases: Vengeance by Bibi (Vil)

Ignihyde 

What group

It’s just Idia

He’s probably a producer or sumthing let’s be so real guys. Ortho is his sound set up.

I’ll still give examples of what I think his tracks sound like tho. Lots of dubstep and generally electronic sounds cus… come on guys, it’s too perfect.

Tracks: Illusion by Aespa; Miroh by SKZ; Freeze by SKZ; Hold On Tight by Aespa

Diasomnia 

Group name: Som.nia (Nia), I wanted to lean into the sleepy/dream feeling

Fandom name: Niacs, insomnia/insomniac you get it okay

“Malleus is leader!” you cry, and you are wrong, because Lilia literally has to be leader. He is the objectively the best (and funniest) option, Malleus does not have the backbone to be leader yet. Lilia has been around the block a billion times; he’s been a vkei idol, he’s been a model, he’s probably been a wrestler let’s be real he’s the Sakura of twst fr. He writes most of the songs for the group, but is definitely trying to get the others to improve their songwriting skills. While Lilia gets a lot of offers, he turns them down. If I’m honest, he’s probably going to quit being an idol after 

Malleus is definitely taking the vocalist position, no question. He’s also probably taking the “least popular member of the group” position. Poor guy is seriously awkward on camera and has a chronic case of resting scary face. He takes center pretty frequently, half as an attempt to get him some more recognition- it’s not great cus he’s kinda a stiff dancer. He was fairly popular pre-debut for his extremely strange energy 

Call me insane, but dancer Silver! He’s very physically capable, it’s just… you’ll catch him sleeping every time he’s not practicing. Definitely has insane muscle memory, he could do all his choreography with his eyes closed. He’s also an occasional vocalist, he’s got a nice soft voice. Sebek is always getting on him for “being lazy” but Silver usually just tells him to screw off.

Sebek gets rapper because he’s sooooo good at projecting and enunciating aggressively. It’s all the Malleus worship. I think he was a trainee at the same time as Malleus and was utterly obsessed with him, fan favorite for being So Weird All The Time.

I’ll be so real, if the song made me feel gorgeous it went on the list. They kinda reek of 3rd gen Kpop? This is definitely Lilia’s fault. But I’m so here for it the nostalgia go CRAAAZY. Also they are VIXX thanks.

Debut Song: Butterfly by Loona

Other Tracks: Bite Me by Enhyphen; Chained Up by VIXX, Shangri-La by VIXX; Blood, Sweat and Tears by BTS (are you kidding me this addition is so good I’m genuinely LOSING IT); Scentist by VIXX; Fever by Enhyphen; Sugar Rush Ride by Enhyphen; Inception by ATEEZ

Solo releases: Egoist by Olivia Hye of Loona (Silver)

Honorable mentions (these are a bit shorter)

First year gang

Group name: F1rst

Fandom name: Zer0, because they come before first

Jack gets to be leader! He’s responsible, if a bit nervous, takes the vocalist position here.

Epel gets visual in this case, though he still does a fair amount of rap.

Deuce is the best with fans and gets to be center, he’s a pretty good all-rounder here.

Ace is still the best dancer in the group and literally will never stop gloating.

Sebek gets to be the rapper and takes the face position because he’s So Weird All The Time

I think they are literally just Stray Kids tbh, my favoritism is showing but I don’t even care

Debut Song: Break All the Rules by Cravity

Other Tracks: Super board by SKZ; Thunderous by SKZ; S-Class by SKZ; Domino by SKZ; TOPLINE by SKZ; God’s Menu by SKZ

Pop music club 

Group name: Jump Up! I wanted to pick something really cheery and high energy

Fandom name: Highs

Kalim is leader here again, he’s just got that energy! He also gets to be the rapper

Cater swipes the vocalist position, finally gets a chance to shine fr

Old man Lilia somehow bags the dancer position and is no question the face

They're peppy, poppy, a classic girl group type noise.

Debut song: Hi High by Loona was truly too perfect

Other tracks: Hula Hoop by Loona; Air Force One by Odd Eye Circle of ARTMS

Floyd + Che’nya + Ruggie

Group name: THEE (can be said like “thee” or “tee-hee”)

Fandom name: Teenies

Ruggie is the leader and lead dancer for this one! 

Seeing as Floyd has had dancer ripped from his hands by Ruggie, he’s going to fully take over rap

And Che’nya gets to be vocalist, I like to believe he’s got some pipes on him

Literally just silly vibes

Debut song: Cheese by SKZ

Other Tracks: Taller Than You by Mamamoo; Maniac by SKZ; Circus by SKZ; Don’t Tease Me by Speed 

Lilia + Malleus + Vil + Rook

Group name: Nu Moon

Fandom name: Starlights, yeah I stole it from VIXX, sue me

Malleus, king of goth, gets to lead this group- it’s a very good starter group to lead, considering he’s got a lot of experienced members

Lilia is quite obviously producing every single song for this group, that’s mostly what he’s here to do, so he also takes up the mantle of dancer

Vil is once again the visual and the face, but he’s giving up the vocalist position

Shock of shocks, Rook gets to be the vocalist here! Because he doesn’t get to shine much in FoE

They are literally dreamcatcher.

Debut song: BEcause by Dreamcatcher

Other tracks: Piri by Dreamcatcher; Odd Eye by Dreamcatcher; Boca by Dreamcatcher; Scream by Dreamcatcher

That's the end of today's showing, as always, thank you for coming.

Did anyone ask for this? uhhhh no. But it made me very happy so whatever. Legitimately Octavinelle gave me so much trouble I changed their tracklist like four times. I was tempted to make Diasomnia Dreamcatcher as well, but I didn't want to erase Silver's lo-fi soft boy vibes.

[inbarfink]

For a while now I’ve been considering the option of, like, what if… There’s a new DHMIS season or like a whole new version/adaptation - and they’re not not gonna follow up in any way on the stuff with Lesley from the first season in DHMIS TV. And the final few episodes of that new season are gonna have, like, Duck or something come face-to-face with some totally different ominous secret about how the World of DHMIS works that seems to totally contradict both the stuff with Roy and the machine in ‘Dreams’ AND the shit with Lesley and the stairs in “Electricity”. 

Like, I’m not just thinking about it as a ‘haha funny troll!". My thoughts are… So, one of the recurring themes of “Don’t Hug Me I’m Scared”, especially in the TV Show, is like the Existential Horror of Being a Fictional Character. And Creativity has been a theme since, well, the very start. And DHIMS always loved its 4th-Wall-Break, always loved to remind us that this is a show.

So what if the Hidden Truth about why their world is so Wrong is just… the real actual truth? You know, that they are a bunch of fictional puppets for a show created by Becky Sloan, Joe Pelling, and Baker Terry? 

And for the characters that would be just as much of a horrifying eldritch revelation as anything we could dream up for them, y’know? That they’ve been created basically just to entertain strange unseen beings via their misery, that they are being watched 24/7 in the sense that when they are not watched they basically don’t exist, that their life and wills are totally controlled by these unknowable strange beings who possess a level of free will they can’t even conceive of. 

And they can’t even really perceive this truth fully or reach the actual real world cause, well, they can’t exist in the actual real world or interact with their real creators. Because once you take them out of the context of the show, they just go back into being puppets and costumes. The DHMIS creators could probably pretend to have a conversation with their puppets, or hypothetically the DHIMS characters could talk with a fictionalized version of their creators - but a real interaction between them is metaphysically impossible. 

So the climaxes of both the Webshow and the TVshows are, like, Red Guy and Yellow Guy (respectively) coming as close to understanding the nature of their reality as their little fictional brains can bare - which they process as these weird surrealist metaphors because that is as far as they can grasp it before their brains literally become felt and cotton.

Red Guy, especially in the Webshow, was always the one most exacerbated by having to deal with the Teachers. He very much does not enjoy being the Main Character in a story. And he’s generally kind of a cynical pessimist. And so for him, Reality - the DHMIS Webshow - seems like some sort of ominous and impersonal machine that exist for nothing but tormenting himself and his friends.

Roy might be involved because, being one of his friends’ parents - that makes him both a sort of authority figure, and a creator of sorts. So for Red Guy’s mind he’s like a stand-in for their actual creators (since Red Guy doesn't know his own parents - he's at least the closest he's got. Plus it is Yellow Guy that has become the target of the torment by the final episode. That whole thing with Yellow Guy and Roy really is a creator tormenting his creation) . Or maybe it has something to do with Roy being credited on all of the episodes?

Implying he’s some sort of liminal being with connections to both the real and fictional world?

Meanwhile, Yellow Guy is a lot more willing to play along and try to enjoy the Lessons he is given. He’s not as stressed about being free as Red Guy is most of the time. And we know his sense of imagination can be very sweet and adorable.

But at the same time,Yellow Guy suffers a LOT as a result of the Lessons. And when he is fully charged, he pretty quickly becomes uncomfortable with the teachers’ condescension and the strangeness of their lives. So Lesley’s whole setup showcases his more conflicted feelings about the Reality. On one hand there is something charming and whimsical about Lesley, but she’s also kinda ominous and creepy.

And Yellow Guy’s Enchanted Cyborg Intelligence gives him a… slightly more accurate understanding of the situation. Yellow Guy’s Reality, with the Big and Bigger Boys, shows he has some understanding that this world exist for some sort of edutainment (where Red Guy only saw it as torment for the sake of torment) and his idea for the Person Behind Everything is… at least Mostly a live-action human. 

Making her a step closer to the actual creatives working on DHMIS compared to Roy.

And the extra set of stairs might show that, like, Yellow Guy at least has the potential to understand that his Reality is not quite the end of the story. Like that, yeah, there IS another level of understanding above meeting Lesley - and that is the Real World with the real creators, the one he could never actually meet.

And now the question is, what would Duck’s Reality be? What would he see, if he had a chance to peek behind the curtain?

[ryuichirou]

some nsfw lilidia headcanons? 🫣

+

Anonymous asked:

💙 ANON HERE

I REALIZED I NEVER ASKED FOR THE LILIDIA HC!!!

Anyways we know the drill.

Lilidia head canons food please 😌🤲

-------

Yesss finally, people are asking for Lilidia headcanons! FINALLY… I’ve been training my whole life for this.

Once again, I am very happy you guys are enjoying Lilia/Idia, this is so special and so fun.

A quick note before we start: we’re obviously posting this way before Crimson Muscle and Gloomy Samurai meet irl, if you know what I mean, so these headcanons are more speculative than usual. I’ll just cross my fingers and wish that every single thing I’m about to describe becomes canon lol

With that out of the way, the headcanons:

When Idia first realised that his gaming buddy he’d been crushing on is actually Lilia, he got a little bit concerned, because Lilia is quite different from the image of an experienced and mature dominant older man he had in his head. With the way Lilia looks and acts, he is definitely not Idia’s type, or at least he thought he wasn’t until they got into bed and Lilia unleashed his dominant older man power on poor Idia. After that, the realisation hit Idia again: wow, it really is Crimson Muscle-shi, huh.

Lilia is quite amused by Idia. Firstly, the whole situation about him being Gloomy Samurai is still funny to Lilia, not to mention that it was painfully obvious that his gaming buddy had a crush on him. And it’s one thing to see it in how awkward he gets in the chat sometimes, but seeing him all flustered and nervous and panicking because he’s just a socially inept virgin who doesn’t know what to do with his crush? Lilia’s always had a soft spot for introverts. But what Lilia never expected is that he would get to have sex with a Shroud. Pink hair yaaay~

Before the realisation that Crimson Muscle is Lilia, Idia had sex dreams about him, even though the image of the man was very vague and kind of like a combination of certain traits Idia would find attractive, or just his avatar character. Although what Idia does remember very well every morning is the way the man groped and fucked him in his dreams. It goes without saying, but these dreams always leave Idia very horny and frustrated. Idia finds this whole thing extremely cringy and embarrassing, but at the same time he can’t really help it. When he first saw Lilia himself in his dream, it became even more embarrassing. And even more arousing for some reason.

Sometimes the way Crimson Muscle replies to him in chat leaves Idia kind of horny. This mysterious man just has this weird ability to transform Idia from smug and confident into shy and trembling inside in one sentence. And when Lilia gets intentionally flirty, Idia is completely at his mercy. Lilia has tons of fun with how obvious Idia’s reactions are even through the monitor: he had sensed that Gloomy Samurai is quite submissive way before he found out that he is Idia.

And Lilia himself is, once again, very dominant. He is definitely going to act cutely at first, just to flirt and playfully mess with Idia, but when he sees that the cute part doesn’t really do anything but make him uncomfortable (which is also fun for Lilia, to be fair), he’ll start treating him the way he’s always treated the boys he’s slept with: with teasing, but demanding tone, experienced yet very selfish and greedy touch, and actions that would be too much for a regular pillow-princess type of a virgin, but perfect for Idia.

Lilia is very talkative. Sometimes he is playful and even mocking: he’s asking Idia embarrassing questions about how he feels and comments on how tight and tense he is. But it’s not like he’s all fluffy, sometimes his comments get quite harsh and degrading, especially since he sees that Idia enjoys it when he’s being mean to him. It’s not unnatural for general Vanrouge to talk to his lover this way though, he’s done much, much worse.

It’s also not unusual for Idia to mention some bizarre sex thing he’s seen in some hentai as a joke, and Lilia’s reaction is almost always “yeah, I’ve done it”. This scares Idia, but at the same time kind of intrigues him. Although he’s always afraid that Lilia is just trolling him (he isn’t). Or even worse: if Idia expresses that he doesn’t believe Lilia, he’s just going to do that thing with him to prove a point (he really is going to).

Lilia is definitely taking advantage of the fact that he can float, both with regular sex and oral. Idia is very tall, but it’s never an issue for Lilia: he can reach his butt literally whenever he wants. Sometimes as a surprise, just because he enjoys the way Idia flinches and jumps when spooked.

Lilia bites. He’s not as horrible as the tweels, but he does like to leave a bite mark or two on Idia’s neck, when he gets especially aroused during sex. It’s like Idia is dating a vampire or something…

I feel like I owe this one to people: Lilia is bigger than he is supposed to be logically and anatomically. He’s not as monstrously big as I (half-jokingly) draw him, but still big enough to make Idia feel him surprisingly deep and choke on him. To Idia, it really does feel like he is inside some hentai doujin sometimes. Especially when Lilia fills Idia, and Idia feels like he’s about to pass out, because this isn’t even a cream pie anymore, this is something indescribable.