#and it was late in the dream so dream me was somewhat aware that oh nooooo i should be back home already!!! and started panicking a little

[lwieserce]

woke up so tired & eepy

[samonroegf]

good teachers create good students

when you, a virgin, have to have a sex scene with hayden christensen, he shows you what a good orgasm can truly feel like, in preparation for your scene together.

costar!hayden christensen x actor!virgin!f!reader, smut, fluff, age gap, dad kink, oral (f receiving), creampie, reader is 19/20ish, hayden is late 30s, dddne?

requested by anon! ᝰ masterlist

you sat nervously in your trailer, reading over the script multiple times. this would be your first time filming a sex scene, cold sweat crawled up your back. trying to keep yourself in a somewhat good mood, you shake your head trying to physically shake away the thoughts.

a knock on your trailer door pulls you out of your brain's endless cycle. walking the few steps to the door, your breath is almost taken from you. hayden christensen, your partner actor, stood mere inches from you.

you would never admit this even being tortured, but truth be told, he was one of the main reasons you choose this role. he was a phenomenal actor, and he was quite pretty to look at. your cheeks burn just thinking about it.

you smiled nicely at the older man, who wore an equal expression.

“hey! what's up?” a cheery expression, as you spoke. you bit your check, hoping it's not too noticeable. your mind was reeling just with having him in front of you. being a kid that grew up on television, you'd always been aware of hayden. he was like that dream man, that you never have a chance with.

“just wanted to come check on you, tomorrow's shooting will be a little grueling. you think you're up for it?” he chuckled, and the sound went straight to your stomach. you just step aside allowing the taller man to enter your small trailer.

he sat in a booth with you by the window, the sun shining like gold on his light hair. you'd hoped you looked equally enchanting.

“honestly,” you dragged out the word, mindlessly scratching your arm where no itch resided.

“i’ve never actually had sex, or like an orgasm so I'm not sure I'll be too good.” his aura just made you want to talk to him, you wanted to curse him for being so inviting. your cheeks warmed again, mentally chiding yourself for telling him this at all.

hayden’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, but he tried to get it under control. he couldn't understand how you'd never been touched, it's been hell trying to hold back and be professional. you shot him an embarrassed smile and looked out the window.

“i can help you,” he offered, but from the look on his face you were sure he didn't mean to actually say that. a nervous giggle slipped from your lips and now it was your eyebrows that were almost in your hairline.

“oh?” you weren't sure what to say, you weren't even totally sure that this wasn't some fever dream. you pinched your leg under the table just to check, it hurt, this is very real.

he leaned back into the seat, allowing his eyes to gaze over you. you were somewhere between hazy with lust, and feeling totally exposed.

“yeah, you're a cute little thing, helps you and helps me.” it was like he was being possesed by a man touch starved. maybe he was. there was a dark glimmer in his eyes, like a shark right under the water getting ready to attack..

it made you nervous and excited. you couldn't help but squirm under his watchful stare.

“oh, um, that would be great.” you couldn't keep eye contact with him, your gaze dropping down to your fidgeting hands. unsure of what to do next. you hoped you looked more composed then you felt.

you watched hayden as he moved, getting up to lock the door and close the blinds. he would be damned if someone was going to interrupt the two of you. he is thanking whatever god out there that this opportunity was brought to him.

he came back to you, just smiling somewhere between sweet and sinister. his hand comes to hold your cheek, he was so kind and yet you knew that probably wouldn't last long. another excitingly fearful wave passes through you.

you couldn't help but lean into his touch, humming contently. you guys had been here for months working on this film together. you'd become work buddies, always cracking up on set. now you knew there was no way that it would go back to that.

big eyes look up at him, and he has to look away to keep himself in control. there would be time for rough fucking later, he wants you to know how beautiful you are. can't let your first time go to waste.

“c’mere,” he leads you to the bed on the other side of the trailer. the bed was perfectly made, almost makes him want to laugh. you're such a good girl.

you were basically dumb in his presence, something that doesn't go by unnoticed. he loves how flustered he makes you, maybe he shouldn't but it boosts his ego.

you followed his lead to the bed, coming to sit right next to him. you're somewhere between fainting and vomitting, because you're here in bed with hayden christensen and you can't say anything.

“don’t be nervous, doll, I'll be so nice to you. but you gotta talk to me here. i have to have your consent.” he obviously knew you wanted this or you wouldn't have followed him like a lovesick puppy. verbal consent above all else, especially with you being so much younger than him.

“i want this, i actually don't think I've ever wanted anything more.” it sounded more like begging, than a statement. hayden's cock hardened against his pants, and he muttered, “fuck” under his breath. a playful smirk now played at his lips.

“using your words like a good girl,” his voice was so gentle and soft like a love confession, rather than dirty talk. a whine escaped your lips, you'd never been looked at like this, and especially not talked to like this. your body felt like it was on fire, and hayden is the only fire extinguisher for miles.

words aren't needed at this moment, he just helps you lay down. coming to lay beside you, his fingers drifting over your exposed midriff.

“i’m gonna kiss you now, okay?” his words are so soft and gentle, if you didn't know any better you'd think you were in a romance novel.

“please.” you're pleading and he hasn't even touched you yet, the way he's been looking at you makes you feel like there's a million exposed wires replacing your nerves.

“you're gonna be the death of me, baby.” he chuckles lowly and dark, his lips met yours, soft and hard all at once. his kisses are gentle, slowly coaxing open your lips to let his tongue explore your mouth. he groans into the kiss, and it makes you whimper.

your fingers clutch at him, pulling him closer if that were even possible. he can't help but smile into the kiss. you're so needy and innocent, he can't help but think about how sweet you must taste.

he seperates from you, allowing you to catch your breath. you're flushed, and the lust flowing theough you is almost unbearable.

“please, hayden, need.” you're so dumb with want, not a single coherent thought in your head.

“seems little girl needs to learn some patience.” he speaks into your neck, lightly biting and kissing on the skin.

“hayden,” you're whining, your thighs rubbing together on their own accord, trying anything to get some friction, something to alleviate the pain of need.

he kisses down your body, shedding of your outfit, one piece of clothing at a time. his lips enevlope around your nipples, little sighs falling from your lips like prayers. hayden wasn't sure he'd ever grow tired of the sounds.

he moved down, slowly pulling your bottoms down. almost like he was trying to torture you, or at least that's how it makes you feel. in reality, he's trying to savor every inch of creamy skin.

he finally comes face to face with your cunt. if you weren't so lost in his touch, you might've been nervous. however his hungry eyes make you feel wanted, beautiful.

“i just need one favor, baby,” his voice barely above a whisper, like he was afriad of your answer.

“anything, whatever you want, I'm yours.” you breathed out, a sultry tone in your words. you'd never heard yourself sound like that, it almost makes you wanna hide.

he tugs his lip betwen his teeth, just for a second before letting it go.

“call me daddy, okay? think you can do that for me?” you were quick to nod. you were probably going to do it anyway, but something about the way he asked made it so much hotter.

“words, baby.” his voice has a warning tone to it, and you almost wanted to push and see what he'd do. you weren't in a place to be able to do that right now.

“yes, daddy.” your voice shook a little as you spoke, the anxious energy seeping back into your bones.

“good girl,” he kissed your happy trail, all the way down until he was mere inches from your slit.

he licked up a stripe and you were about cry from sense of relief. his tongue slipping around your clit, his touch too much and not enough all at once. you were squirming under him, he tsked you. moving his arms under your thighs to hold you in place.

“let daddy take his time, angel, i promise you'll come soon enough.” his voice was low and you were sure you could come from that alone if he just kept talking.

“sorry,” you're wearing a sheepish smile, hiding your face in your arms. one of his hands coming to bring them down, holding both of your hands in his one.

“don’t hide, i wanna see you.” he's rubbing your knuckles comfortingly. it helps ease some of the tension, your body relaxing.

“there you are, now stay still as you can for me, yeah? and don't you dare hide those little noises from me.” you hum in accordance.

he pays more attention to your pussy now. his tongue dipping in and out of your core, wrapping his lips around your clit. eliciting whines and moans from your ‘o’ shaped lips.

he inserts a single finger, and the combination of his finger thrusting in and out of fo you and his lips attacking clit makes you come undone. shaking and crying as you come, he just looks at you with a smile.

“you look so beautiful,” his voice brings you out of the teance the orgasm sent you in. you give him a playful smile, completely in awe of the man before you.

“can you give me another one? need to fill you up, baby. can you take it?” can you take it? the words echo in your mind, almost like a challenge. you were determined to show him that you could and would take it.

“of course, i can,” you push up on your arms to actually look at him, it makes him smirk at your attitude.

it doesn't take him but a few moments to get undressed, and then he's stretching your walls with his fingers. preparing your hole for his girthy cock.

“daddy, hurry.” you pout, needing to fill him all the way. determination replaced by need.

“do you want it to hurt? cause i can stuff you full, but I don't want to hear any crying.” he's becoming a little impatient with her attitude, the soft, gentle man replaced by a wolf.

the way he spoke, and the look on his face makes you giggle, a giggle that's from the need to keep pushing those buttons.

his left eyebrow arched at your little outburst, “i want to be gentle with you for your first time, but you're making that really hard, doll.” curiosity piqued, you had to see what kind of roughness he'd give you.

“then let go,” you smiled oh-so innocently at him, and he couldn't take it anymore. an almost animalistic growl tears its way from this throat. with a few strokes of his cock, he was pushing into you.

the stretch was deliciously stinging, and you weren't sure if you liked it or not. but getting to see hayden above you, tongue poking out as he does his best to stay still. he's not a monster, he doesn't actually want to hurt you, unless that's what you want. tears streaming down your face. he tsks you again, “what did i say?” his hand comes to wipe away the tears and you lean into his touch once more.

“move, please move,” you're whining, squirming and wiggling. he thought he could get used to this sight, his little girl just needing to be split by his cock.

“what's the magic word?” his tone was playful and teasing, you almost want to bite it out of him.

you thought for a moment, what would probably get the most of a reaction out of him. so still pouting, and now batting your eyelashes at him, “daddy, i need you to ruin me.” your tone was genuine, you needed it and you needed it now.

what little bit of control hayden had left, has dissipated from those seven little words. he's grabbing your hips pulling them up to meet his. fingertips diggin harsh into your flesh, and he pistons in and out of you.

“fuck, doll, you're so tight. your cunt was basically made f’ my cock. taking me so well.” the pain has subsided, and all you can think about is the waves of pleasure being brought you by a man 10 years older than you.

“mm, daddy, so good, so full, love daddy’s cock, love it so much.” you're babbling, dumb and incoherent, unable to think about anything other than his member bullying your insides.

his hips are twitching and you can tell that he's getting close. you slip a hand down to your clit to rub little circles on the bud, but you're almost immediately stopped. one hand, now wrapped around your waist as he fucks into you. the other one holding your wrist, “let me do all the work, princess, just wanna make you feel good.”

his tone was indecipherable, but you nodded dumbly, letting him attack your clit. you can feel your muscles contracting, that familiar knot forming in your stomach.

“gonna come, daddy, gonna come, dad.” you're rambling again and it's making hayden feel sick in the best way possible.

“where you want it, baby?” he's always asking for permission, nose nuzzling into your neck taking in the scent of your sweat.

“inside, please, inside, please. want all of you, please.” he's smiling down at you again, not that you can see, your eyes rolling back in your head as your body begins to convulse.

“gonna fill you up so good, angel.” his hips stutter one last time, and you can feel his cum feeling up your cunt, it just makes you more sensitive.

you both fall to the bed, out of breath and hayden is laughing. if you weren't in such a daze, you'd ask him what was up.

“damn, doll, that's the best sex I've had in a while, you did so good.” he's laying on his side, leaned up. nimble fingers pushing your hair out of your face. mumbling little conpliments as you regain composure.

“well, i think it's safe to say, I'll know exactly what to do tomorrow.” you giggled and he agreed with a hum. he pressed a kiss to your forehead, then nose, both cheeks and finallly your lips. soft and scattered kisses pepper across your skin and you giggle at him.

he gets up grabbing a bottle of water and some washrags to clean you up. easily manhandling you to wipe down your whole body from sweat, and gently collecting the cum that's cascading out of you. you wince from sensitively and he apologizes, pressing a kiss to your tummy.

he hands you the water and watches as you down the entire bottle, “i think I'd like to do this again sometime.”

[diorcities]

⠀   ⠀ ── 𖥻 ๋ 𓈒 �� ࣪ ࣭ ◍ ᜔ being a sleepy head !

nct dream fluff headcanon.

jaemin. at midnight, the sheets tangle on your limbs as his fingers run down your spine in a deliberate gesture. your tongue tangles in your palate and feels heavy as you talk about trivial things while he listens patiently. smiling sweetly when you can't follow the thread of your thoughts at the speed you desire, and your eyes look one last glimpse into his loving eyes before plunging you into a deep sleep. your body is covered by a blanket and you barely hear his voice saying “let's meet again in your dreams.” warming the place where your heart rests.

haechan. he is a night person. even with his schedules, he usually has more sleep resistance than you. you've both put on a series that you've been wanting to watch together, and since I this moments don't happen very often, you plan to spend the whole day curled up next to him. his body is so warm, and his grip comforting, that you soon decide to leave him to go to the ethereal world of dreams. and among the semi-unconsciousness, you think you feel his laugh poking you, “unbelievable, why you choose that boring movie if you were going to fall asleep?” just feeling your body being gently drawn to his “i'll tell you how the movie ends in the morning.”

jisung. the different time zones had your internal clock pretty damaged and crazy, to the point where you slept all afternoon and were more than awake at night. therefore, your night endurance is greater than jisung's. even on his day off, the poor boy does nothing but sleep. silence settles in the room when you know he's not listening to you anymore, hearing to the slight snoring of the boy with the cold nose on your neck, feeling him stir between dreams, “oh- fuck,” he murmurs, nuzzling his face, “did i fall asleep?” he asks. “pretty much, yeah.” you hear his muffled laugh, but deep down it makes you happy that he rests properly, especially when you know his workday. his only response is get closer to you. “keep talking, i swear i won't fall asleep this time.” quick spoiler: he did.

mark. it is a habit to put on a film and not pay attention to it while talking and using it as background noise. both of you have fairly tight schedules, and believe it is possible to do everything at the same time, such as ordering food delivery and chatting while watching a movie. but honestly, you are so exhausted, that the film takes a back seat while you both have your intimate moment full of kisses and caresses. it's impossible not to fall asleep for both of you. and even in the limbo of dreams, you're there with him, and he's talking to you while he sleeps, “i love you.”

renjun. he does not usually rest for long, and many times (only when you are aware that he is not by your side sleeping) you see him at his desk writing new entries in his diary, or painting with his watercolors. you are aware, too, that he does that when he is very overwhelmed or overloaded with things. and even when he goes back to bed the moment you notice his absence and wake up, or call his name, you worry that he's keeping him hidden from you; the way he uses art to release all the weight that keep him awake. “you scared me,” he pronounces shyly when you approach him and rest your head on his shoulder, “i woke you up? forgive me...” he stops his word when you shake your head, “should we go to bed, then?” he wonders, but again, you deny. “finish this first, love.” you smile tenderly, snuggling into him as he returns to his drawing: somewhat kind of similar to you.

chenle. having a tight schedule makes it difficult to see chenle often. you never seem to coincide because you leave first thing in the morning and when you arrive exhausted to sleep, chenle returns until late at night. he scolds you on occasion when you insist on staying up even when you both know that means you'll feel sleepy at work. in the end, he lets you do what you want, because deep down, he misses your long chats before going to bed. “so... one of my... coworkers said...” your eyelids close on their own, you swear by your life. and your tongue feels so heavy, but you must keep going, because seriously, seriously it's funny, “have you- seen my... sandwich?... and i said..., it's in...” chenle waits for the punchline while he strokes your hair, but it never comes, so with a amused smile dancing on his lips, he turns off the lamp. “your mouth?” he wonders at the ceiling, widening his eyes, “the toilets?”

jeno. the letters change places when you look at them for a long time. you blink, your eyelids heavy linger towards the empty coffee cup next to your notes; your attempt to do an all-nighter has been unsuccessful as you feel the sleep spell take control of your body. “come, darling,” seems to whisper sandman in your ear. as you are in the limbo between the two universes, your body seems to float and be welcomed by his warm embrace, followed by the gentle movement that lullies you back when jeno takes you to his room.

[maddiethedogstories]

The Birthday - 3

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

As awareness started to wash over me again, I smiled. I felt good. I was relaxed, comfortable, and more happy then I could remember being in years. The events of earlier in the day felt like a distant nightmare. Being tied down, diapered, and gagged with a pacifier all felt like a dream. I thought to myself, maybe it was. Being forcefully babied by my wife did sound like something my fucked up subconscious would spit up.

So, to test this hypothesis, without opening my eyes, I tried to move my hands. One at a time, I pulled each of my hands to my body, and, to my surprise and delight, I wasn't met with any resistance. I tried the same thing with my feet, pulling my knees up to my chest. Just like with my hands and arms, I could move my feet and legs freely. Maybe this morning was all just a dream?

Feeling a familiar pressure in my bladder, I turned my body and sat up on the edge of my bed, the comforter still sitting on my lap. I looked around the room and nothing has changed from what I remembered prior to this morning. There were no restraints left on the bed. There weren't blindfolds or other BDSM supplies left on my nightstand. The room was clean, other than the bed being dishevelled from my sleeping in it, and was lit by a warm, late afternoon light.

Give the state of the room, I finally concluded that the events from earlier in the day must have been a bad dream. So, with my bladder aching for relief, I stood up and began walking to the bathroom. For some reason, I didn't notice the crinkling noise at every step I took or the pronounced waddle that I had with each step. I didn't even look at my reflection in the mirror as I hurriedly scuttled to my destination. My whole focus was on getting to the bathroom as quickly as possible to relieve myself. My need to pee was growing stronger much faster.

It didn't take long for my eyes to fall on my goal. The porcelain throne of my relief lay just before me. However, as I reached down to pull down my boxers, I was interrupted by a voice.

"Oh, good! You're awake! How did the birthday boy sleep?" I hear my wife's soft voice gently intone behind me.

At the sound of her voice, I turn around suddenly and face her. I can't help but smile. Despite the horrible nightmare I had earlier, she looks incredibly sexy, wearing a beautiful yellow sundress, low-cut on top to expose her ample cleavage, and cut-high on the bottom to show off her legs. I am a lucky man, I think to myself.

"I sweept guud! Danks!" I lisped out in response to Melody's question. I was oblivious to the large rubber nipple occupying my mouth, making it difficult for me to pronounce words properly. Melody giggled in response as she walked closer to me.

For some reason, as she came closer, a sensation of fear sent a shiver down my spine. Has she always seemed so much bigger than me? I thought. Before I could dwell on that thought though, Melody began to speak again.

"I am so glad to hear that baby! I wouldn't want you getting cranky on your big day. But, I have a question, why are you in the bathroom?" She asked, curiously, with a hint of mischief gleaming in her eyes.

"I've gotta pee," I responded, still oblivious to the object occupying my mouth, "I'll finish dat, den come see j'you." Melody's smile became predatory.

"Oh, baby, you didn't need to come hide in here when you potty! You can just go whenever you want to!" She said.

"What?" I lisped out, confused.

"Just make your pee-pees and poo-poos wherever you want, love. You don't need to hide like a naughty toddler. I won't judge you for using your diaper, that is what it's for!" Melody said.

At those words, my head swam. I became slightly dizzy. I grabbed the wall, and, for the first time, looked down at myself.

Like I expected, I was mostly naked expect for my underwear. My hairy, somewhat pasty dad bod on full display. What I didn't expect was the underwear I was wearing. Around my waist where, after discounting the days earlier events as a bad dream, I expected to see boxers, hung a gigantic white and pastel blue diaper adorned with a cartoon teddy bear laying on alphabet blocks. The giant, babyish garment dropped wetly between my legs. The blue line of the wetness indicator declaring for everyone who could see it that I had already thoroughly soaked the garments padding.

My mouth gaped open as I stared at myself in disbelief. As my lips parted, a pacifier that I had also not been aware of up until that point, fell to the bathroom tile accompanied by a line of drool leading directly to my parted lips.

Realization hit me like a freight train. My nightmare wasn't a dream. I was still living it.

"What the fuck, Mommy?" I said to Melody as I looked down at my wet diaper and drool covered pacifier. "Wait, why did I call you Mommy? Mommy. Mommy. Mama!" Despite my best efforts, I had discovered that, despite my best efforts otherwise, I couldn't call Melody anything but Mommy or Momma now.

I looked back up at my wife, who was now grinning from ear to ear. The totality if my situation was starting to dawn on me. If what I thought was a dream had actually happened, then, I had eventually fallen asleep with those damned headphones on. And, if that had happened, I must have given in. I'd been hypnotized.

Melody laughed as she watched the wheels turning in my head. As the depths of how fucked I was hit me, she put words to my thoughts.

"That's right baby, you fell asleep listening to Mommy's special music, and now I'm in control. You're just like the poor girls you torture in your demented little stories. You are completely and utterly at my whim."

My bladder still ached, and I almost released it in fear at my wife's words. A part of me thought that was curiously. If I had been hypnotized, why did I still have any control of my bodily functions. It didn't take long for that question to be answered.

"Don't worry though, baby, I didn't take too much from you, yet," Melody continued. "Really, I'll I've done so far is to make you a little less observant of your situation when you woke up and made sure you address me properly this weekend."

Those changes didn't sound too bad to me. However, Melody's use of the word 'yet,' was not lost on me.

"That is not to say that I can't do more if you don't behave," my wife continued. "It'll be much more fun if you know you are choosing to be my stinky little baby boy for the weekend, rather than being forced to."

"Fuck that, Mommy! I will not just lay down and be your perfect little baby! I will not just be humiliated like that! Plus, I am not just going to lay down and let you tie me up and hypnotize me again," I spat out. To emphasize my point, I reached for the tapes on my diaper, moving to rip them up in a show of defiance. However, before I could get a good grip on the tapes, Melody spoke again.

"Mommy says freeze," Melody said firmly.

I froze. Suddenly, I couldn't move. My terror started to build. This hypnosis clearly ran deeper than I expected. Regardless, I would not just give in to my wife's carefully designed torture. If anyone was supposed to choose to be the defenseless adult baby, it was her, not me. Letting myself give in and capitulate so easily would make me no better than the fictional women I wrote about in my smut. With renewed determination, I rolled my eyes up to look directly at my wife with, what I hoped, was a look of defiance and control in my eyes.

"Let me be clear, mister," Melody said with her hands on her hips, "You will be wearing and using your diapers this weekend one way or another." Melody continues to lecture me like I've seen her lecture our kids 1000 times, "You may think you have some control in this situation. That is an illusion. Like a real baby, you only have as much control as Mommy says. And, like a real baby, you will do what Mommy says."

The lecture has little effect on me. Despite this show of power, I was still certain my mind was strong enough, mature enough, to break my wife's hypnosis. I continued to ineffectually glare at her from my frozen position.

"This is what is going to happen. I am going to release you. You are going to prove to me that you are going prove to me that you can be a good baby for Mommy. If you don't, I am going to show you how much control I really have," Melody informed me.

She walked closer as she gave me further instructions. Despite my resolve to maintain my dignity, I still couldn't help but feel like her tiny frame was somehow looking over my much larger one as she spoke.

"You already told Mommy you have to make pee-pee. When I release you, you are going to prove to me you are a good baby, deserving of maintaining the control you have, by wetting your pants, do you understand?"

I just glared in response. Partially because I couldn't move my mouth or nod my head, but partially, and I would like to think this was the larger part, out of obstinance. Melody, however, choose to take my lack of response as acquiescence.

"Good boy. Mommy says you can move," Melody said.

I stumbled a little as my muscles loosened and I regained the ability to freely move.

"Now, wet yourself," she commanded.

"No!" I asserted, "I am not your fucking baby doll."

I reached for the tape of the soggy diaper wrapped around my waist again, determined to remove it and use the toilet like the adult I am. Once again, before I could make any progress, Melody interrupted me.

"Mommy says freeze," she commanded. I once again found myself reverted to a living, breathing statue. I let out a gutteral growl from my throat, the only noise I could easily make.

Melody leaned over, lovingly placed one hand on my cheek, and made eye contact with me.

"That was very, very naughty baby boy. I hoped that just freezing you was all you were going to need to be a good boy for me, but, apparently, you need Mommy to teach you a lesson," she said with a fringe of disappointment in her voice. "I am going to make sure you don't fight using your cute little diapys any more." Melody reached around me and lightly slapped my diapered ass for emphasis.

If I could have, I would have swallowed in nervousness. I have read, and written, enough ABDL smut to know what she was going to do next. She would say 'Mommy says you aren't potty trained,' or something similar, and I would release my very full bladder into my already wet diaper, causing it to leak over the floor. I'd be embarrassed. However, from my position, at least Melody and I would know that I hadn't given in, she had to force me to set myself.

Unfortunately, my premonition of what was going to happen next was wrong.

Melody stopped making eye contact me and leaned closer into me, placing her lips next to right ear. She then softly whispered her next command.

"Mommy says you are terrified of potties. Mommy says you are certain something horrible will happen the next time you use one."

Suddenly, a new phobia took root in my psyche. When I thought about toilets, my body filled with an irrational feeling of dread. Despite my overwhelming need to pee, I was suddenly certain in the depths of my soul, that if I actually used the porcelain monster behind me, my life would be in danger.

This new fear created a strange cognitive dissonance in my head. I still DID NOT want to use the diaper strapped around my waist like the pathetic man-toddler Melody wanted me to be. However, the idea of using any sort of 'potty' filled me with such a sense of existential dread that I almost found myself wetting my pants out of fear at the thought of it.

Melody's lesson wasn't over though.

"Mommy says that you are no stronger than a real toddler and are easily overpowered by me," Melody added.

Still reeling from the first command, the ramifications of the second hypnosis-enforced edict from my wife didn't immediately concern me.

Melody pulled back from my still frozen form and crossed her arms, taking the stance of a mother, about to punish a naughty child.

"Now, baby, you already told me you need to go potty. Also, you have made it abundantly clear you do not want to use your diapers. So, I am going to give you this opportunity to prove you are a big boy. I am going to help you go potty on the big boy potty, doesn't that sound fun? Mommy says unfreeze."

"No, please, no! Mommy, you can't make me. Please, don't make me go near it!" I pleaded desperately as soon as my control came back to me. Fear had taken over my body at my wife's decree. Tears had started to well in my eyes at the thought of sitting on the toilet.

I stated to work my way out of the bathroom in fear, attempting to push my way past Melody. I thought, maybe, if I made it outside, I could pee in a bush or something, and save myself the embarrassment of using the diaper wrapped around my waist as well as the terror that came from potentially using the dreaded potty. Unfortunately, before I could get far, Melody grabbed me. I tried to push past her, but found, as I should have expected, I couldn't use any more force than a toddler would against their mother. My wife was easily able to gain control of me by grabbing my wrists.

"No, no you don't baby! You have made it very clear you want to be a big boy and use the big boy potty, so that is what you are going to do!" Melody said, now dragging me easily by my wrists towards the porcelain monster, sitting menacingly in the corner of the room.

"Please, Mama, please, don't make me! Please don't make me use a toilet!" I started to beg as I ineffectually tried to pull away.

"This is what you wanted, big boy, so this is what you get!" My wife said as she dragged me through our restroom towards the toilet like a toddler who refused to be potty trained.

With each step closer to the toilet, my fear grew. Tears of terror welled up and began to pour from my eyes. I became unable to communicate I'm full sentences. Mucus started to drip from my nose.

"Mama… Please… No… No potty… No… Please no…" I wailed like a tantruming toddler as Melody continued to drag me across the bathroom floor.

When we got within a step of the toilet, my rational mind has given in. I was willing to do anything to avoid having to risk being eaten by the potty monster in front of me. In fear and desperation, I gave in. I let my bladder loose and flooded my already full diaper.

A loud hissing sound began to accompany my wails of terror. I felt the warm, wet urine fill the already saturated padding as I let lose. I then felt the fresh urine, with no where else to go, begin to leak out the leg gatherers of my babyish pants and form a puddle on the ground. The shame I felt at giving in was still overwhelmed by the terror of potentially being forced to sit on or, heaven forbid, use a toilet.

It didn't take long for Melody to notice the puddle growing on the floor. As she held my wrists, she couldn't help but smile.

"Oh no! I thought you were a big boy who used the potty? Did you just make pee-pees in your diapy?" Melody said with a look of victory in her eyes. She temporarily relented from dragging me across the bathroom floor, letting me sit my diapered ass in the growing puddle of urine underneath me.

I looked up at her, fear of the toilet, shame that I choose to piss myself rather than use a toilet, and hope that Melody wouldn't force me to use the dreaded 'potty' all drifting through me. I told her the truth.

"Yes, I peed myself," I choked out hopefully through sobs.

"What was that baby? I didn't understand you. If you don't want me to make you use the potty like a big boy, I need you to tell me what you did like the pathetic toddler you are," Melody responded.

I gritted my teeth in anger at being reduced to this, but one glance at the toilet standing less than two feet from where I was sitting, my fear took control again.

"Mommy, me make pee-pees in my diapy! Pwease don't make me use da potty!" I lisped out, unable to keep my desperation and terror from leaking into the last sentence.

My wife just giggled in response.

"Are you sure? You were SO adamant you were a big boy just a couple of minutes ago? Don't you just want to at least TRY to go potty on the potty?" She responded.

My terror spiked again. She wouldn't still force me to sit on that monstrosity would she? I could die!

Desperate to appease the monster that was my wife, I quickly responded.

"No, Mama! Me no want potty! Please, no potty! Me…. Baby."

I let the last word come out quietly. I let my head fall in shame. Melody had defeated me. She had forced me to choose to use my diaper. For all intents and purposes at this point, I was a baby.

Melody smiled. She looked down at me and saw, I am certain, just what I had admitted to being: a giant, pathetic, overgrown toddler, who had flooded his pampers in terror to avoid being potty trained. For fuck sake, I was still sitting in a puddle of my own piss only two feet from the toilet.

"Well, I guess I was right, you're just too little to be potty trained," she said triumphantly.

I didn't respond. Couldn't respond. I had lost. I had chosen to utterly debase myself, rather than use a fucking toilet like an adult. I couldn't claim that I was an adult or even a 'big boy' who was 'already potty trained' to her. The shame I felt at acting like a toddler was almost overpowered by the relief I felt in hearing that my wife wasn't going to try to potty train me.

For now, at least, I would have to be her perfect little man-baby.

NEXT CHAPTER

[clownholemcfannywhistle]

Stardew Valley bachelor headcanons for when they realize they've fallen for you (gender inclusive)

Alex

His first impression of you?

Something along the lines of, "Oh wow, that new farmer is eye candy."

Or if you're male or more masculine-presenting, probably something like, "Whoa, I don't know why, but I wanna be close to them."

And if you're very androgynous or your presentation is very fluid, the poor boy has an identity crisis.

Cue him having an awkward talk with his grandpa about how to make more friends (Alex ain't talking about being "just friends," but George doesn't know that.)

Evelyn, however, can tell pretty easily that he definitely has feelings for someone, but she doesn't know who, at least not right away.

Before you rolled into town, Alex was always very dedicated to his dream of becoming a gridball champion.

But after? He'd make sure to stay outside longer than before.

He's not super self-aware about why he has this urge to show off, especially if you might catch a glimpse of him.

"I don't know who I am. I don't know why I'm here. All I know is that I must keep the farmer's eyes on me." -Alex, probably.

He flexes and trains extra hard when you're nearby.

Sure, he may be a little standoffish sometimes at first, but that's because he doesn't want to be too distracted from his career goal.

But of course, sooner or later, you're always taking up a portion of his mind.

It was honestly refreshing to have someone genuinely believe in him and take an interest in his goals.

For the longest time, he also thought that he was "playing it cool" around you when he was actually just a bit rude.

It took his grandma gently scolding him for acting like a high schooler for him to realize how cocky he had been acting.

I mean, bless his heart, but he's a dumbass.

He apologizes to you and is grateful when you stick by his side.

Also, in my own personal imagination, if you're female, let's say that he actually grows a pair and apologizes for the sexism specifically.

But the "official" moment he falls for you is just after you find him crying about his late mother on the beach.

He honestly expected you to make fun of him for being so vulnerable, but you comfort him and offer him some appreciated words of advice.

After this event, he can finally gain the self-awareness that, holy shit, he has a crush on you.

Evelyn has also figured out that it's you he's crushing on, at this point.

She doesn't have a talk with him about it, so as not to embarrass him, but she does tell him that he can invite you over for dinner and cookies a lot more.

And if you mention that you like being there, she says that you're basically a part of the family at this point and looks at Alex and does *eyebrows eyebrows* and he's madly blushing, because he knows she knows.

I feel like, for a little while, if Alex was somewhat flirting with you before, he eases up on it a bit because he realizes that he's actually caught feelings.

Flirting just hits different when you're actually more vulnerable to rejection because you're in love.

That's right, the bravado was kind of an act. Partially as a coping mechanism to keep himself motivated despite having a dad who tried to bring him down.

But he can let his guard down around you, and when he does... c'mon, he's a fucking sweetie.

He trusts you not to make fun of him when he lets his softer side out, so you'll start seeing it more.

He would absolutely be winning you stuffed animals from the claw machine game at the movie theater, taking you out to eat, playfully roughhousing with you (and if he pins you down, he'd just bite your nose softly and let you go), and asking you to go to the beach with him a lot (not just to see you in a bathing suit anymore :))

He's totally not dropping heavy hints that he likes you because that's easier than just outright confessing...

Elliott

Okay, I'm not a big Elliott fan, but for the sake of this being wholesome, I won't make him a disgusting caricature of himself lol.

Let's be real, this is a man who believes in love at first sight.

(I personally don't, but I do think that there can be attraction and curiosity at first sight, which is what I think he's experiencing!)

He's so honest with himself about his feelings, like this man is confident that he finds you attractive.

Also I think he's probably confidently bi.

The minute he meets you, he's shaking your hand and acting a little more friendly and welcoming that he would for someone who... isn't as attractive, haha.

Don't you see how kind and approachable he is? He hopes you do.

The night he meets you, he goes home and writes about it in his diary lmao.

"Dear diary, today I met the most captivating individual..."

He spends some more time outside than usual, hoping to catch a glimpse of you or even have a conversation.

He can't help it; you're interesting and he's dying to know what's going on inside your mind!

As soon as he's reasonably confident that you won't be cruel and that he's not asking too much of you, he'll show you his works in progress and ask you what you think.

Say he has an ego, but he wants to show off his best skill!

The more you interact with him, the harder he falls for you.

He spends his evenings sighing dramatically and writing love poems in his journal that he's not ready to share.

Either that, or he's at the saloon, laying his head on a table and talking Leah's ear off about his crush. He won't outright say it's you, but if she happens to see the way he acts when you're around, it's painfully obvious.

He might be a little... over the top, with how he tries to be chivalrous.

(I mean, have you seen the way he demands Gus fetch him and the farmer a drink after smoothly bragging about his "eight hour writing session"??)

But if that's endearing to you, and you actually flirt back with him, he's such a mess. I'm talking blushing, sweating, and then apologizing for the way his body is reacting, haha.

Even if you're married to him, he keeps up the charade that he's the one human in the world who doesn't fart, smh.

Harvey

I feel like, because he's a little more reserved at first, it takes him a little while to realize he's fallen for you.

He can't even think of people as being attractive if he doesn't know what their personality is like.

Demisexual? Maybe a little.

Another confidently bi dude.

But probably at your first checkup, if you express being nervous...

His heart flutters, and he gets an overwhelming urge to reassure you that he's there to help.

I mean, that's what he'd do for any of his patients, so he's not quite sure why he has this urge to be particularly comforting to you...

And that time you catch him doing dance aerobics??

He's soooo embarrassed. Like, if anyone were to find out, he'd rather it be Haley than you, honestly.

If you reassure him that you won't tell anyone and that doing dance aerobics isn't nearly as embarrassing as he thinks it is, he gets that fluttery feeling in his chest again.

I think that that's when the thought first occurs to him that he might have a thing for the farmer.

He tries to dismiss the thought immediately, but just thinking about that being a possibility has his face so hot, his glasses are fogging up.

I know it's been said before, but he would be pining.

A lot more absent-minded at work, to the point where Maru would catch him staring off into space, blushing, and gently kicking his feet frequently enough to wonder if he's got a crush on someone.

Once he finally realizes without a shadow of a doubt that he like likes you, he's just so flustered every time he sees you lol.

Like, you come into his office, and he drops his muffin, hits his head on the counter when he tries to pick it up, and then stumbles backwards, stepping on the muffin.

I mean, his anxiety flares up bad. Too bad he's miserable, because it's so adorable.

He also starts keeping his apartment even cleaner than usual. Not sure if he believes you'd spontaneously come over or if he has an imaginary audience complex...

Not going to lie, I think he also keeps a diary. And he starts writing about you in it probably every day once he realizes he's in love.

So babygirl.

I think he'd be overthinking about the possible ethical consequences/moral implications of confessing to you, so if you get together at all, you're making the first move, hun.

Once you officially become a couple, he's constantly worrying about coming across as too eager or forward, so he deals with that in private in his own... special way.

(Maru: Harvey, you've already doodled your and the farmer's wedding invitation!

Harvey: No, that's our joint tombstone!)

We love our bespectacled Luigi.

(Bonus points if you got the two Brooklyn Nine-Nine references I sprinkled in here lol.)

Sam

Like Alex, I feel like he's not the most self-aware guy on this list.

He sees you, and he's like, "Whoa! I don't know why, but I really wanna be good friends with this person!"

So he follows that impulse without questioning it, the little ADHDiva.

He just wants to show you everything! He wants you to know about his hobbies, his job, his family, and he's real curious to know if you've got anything in common with him.

Not to say he'd be oversharing, at least not on purpose and not often, lol. He may be impulsive, but he understands boundaries.

I honestly think it would take Sebastian pointing out how chummy he is with you for him to realize that he's got a crush.

Also, if you're a dude/male-presenting, he'd probably have a brief moment of awakening.

"Wow, I might be pan. Huh. ...I'm gonna go eat at least four pieces of bubblegum and an MnM I found on the floor."

The realization doesn't make him spiral like Alex lol.

But then he kinda realizes that, looking back, he's definitely caught feelings for people of every gender under the sun.

I feel like he probably channels his feelings and passion into his music.

He writes songs about you, without directly saying they're about you, but Sebastian and Abigail know they're about you.

I feel like you'd be walking by when he's practicing his skateboard tricks, and he'd say, "This one's for you, farmer!" and then fail the kickflip and land on his butt.

You'd both laugh about it once you make sure he's okay.

His butt would lowkey become an inside joke haha.

You could teasingly ask him if the scrape on his butt is in the shape of an L, and he'd giggle childishly about it for days.

I think he'd be asking his mom if he could invite you over for dinner a lot more frequently.

Jodi would catch on and probably give him a talk about safe sex, to which he'd blush and whine that he's not a teenager.

Since Sam is such an open book, there's no doubt in my mind that Vincent knows about his crush.

I bet Vincent accidentally tells on him during a family dinner with you, too, lmao.

Out of the blue, he'd pipe up and say, "When you and the farmer get married, will they be my big sibling, too?"

When.

Poor Sammy would choke on his appy juice/Joja cola (he probably hasn't drank plain water in six years) and try to play it off as Vincent just saying nonsense.

Later, when you're hanging out with Sam, he'd try to be smooth about it.

"Haha... Vincent is such a stinker... But, y'know, it would be funny if we actually got together to humor him...?"

Please don't reject him, he's totally pouring his heart out to you right now ;-;

Sebastian

He likes to appear stoic and act like a lone wolf.

But I think the moment he sees you, his heart is going BA-DUM, BA-DUM

Like, he thinks you're hot from the get-go, but he's still pretty reserved.

So if he's at the saloon with Sam and Abigail and you walk by, he literally just says, "Hi, farmer."

And the minute you're out of earshot, Abi and Sam are teasing him and laughing. "Wow, keep it in your pants, Seb!" "Yeah, you basically just threw yourself at them!"

His ears get all hot from the teasing and he has to go excuse himself to take a smoke break lmao.

I think he's known he's bi/pan for a while now.

I mean, look at him and tell me he's not at least half a twink, hehe.

Outwardly, he's not very emotionally expressive.

But inwardly, he has a mini heart attack when you talk to him.

He tries to be as cool as a cucumber, but he gets pretty anxious around you and can accidentally come across as standoffish.

I bet he's, like, really socially awkward, especially with strangers.

He gets so fidgety around you and he's always bouncing his leg.

He tries not to smoke around you, until he's sure that you wouldn't judge him for it, but that makes him stressed and so he wants to smoke even more.

Poor baby is so awkward, hehe.

Like Sam pushes him into you, and he's quietly apologizing and then saying, "Uh, sorry, I'm, uhh... late to... leave..." and speed-walking away.

Sam facepalms and later, he's like, "Dude, what was that??"

Abigail just goes ahead and makes a group chat with the four of you, which is such a smart move.

When he's talking to you in person, he's so baby and he doesn't know what to do with his hands.

But in the group chat, you actually get to see how funny he is, and his personality shines through.

You guys even start texting privately, and he's always sending you music, memes, animal pictures, and funny videos.

This is how he flirts.

He's like your best friend through the screen, but has no clue how to act in person.

Don't get me wrong, he'd love to hang out with you in person. He's just so damn anxious.

I feel like once you get to be good friends with him, he'd be super clingy and get nervous if you take more than a few hours to text him back.

Which, of course it does, you're super busy with the farm and running errands for villagers.

Eventually, it would either come down to you confessing to him or him being high at 3:00 a.m. and leaving you a series of long, rambling voicemails about how he misses you and is really into you.

Shane

Look, if you read my recent very unwholesome Shane nsfw fic, I'll still stand by the idea I wrote in there that he'd glance up from his beer, think you're hot, but assume he has no chance with you.

He knows he's not relationship material, at least not when you first meet him.

And even if he was, he gets defensive when he thinks people are trying to pity him or treat him like he needs a babysitter.

Like bro is positive that Emily just feels sorry for him, and that causes tension between them sometimes.

But even if you keep pestering him, he'll start to think fondly of you as long as you aren't a total goody-two-shoes.

Enemies to drinking buddies to friends to lovers???

But yeah, drink with him once and he'll be like, "Okay, they're actually not half bad."

Actually validate him and show up for him non-judgmentally?

I'm sorry to my fellow Shane lovers, but I'm pretty sure he'd fall for the first person who doesn't treat him like he's a burden.

Especially if that person is more female-presenting.

It'll take him a little longer to figure out that he's in love with you if you're a dude.

Poor baby, having his sexual awakening in his thirties.

I feel like he also tries vehemently to deny the notion that he might be falling for you, regardless of your gender, because he doesn't want it to be true.

Like, his only real friend in the valley? Of course he's not going to screw that up by confessing to you.

What if you think he's a creep and never want to talk to him again if he does?

He may not show it, but babygirl is overthinking.

He's kind of under the assumption that if he just shoves these feelings down deep, they'll go away. After all, it's just a fleeting crush, right?

(It isn't.)

Once he starts seeing a therapist, I think they'd inform him not to shove his feelings down deep and just talk about them either in session or with a friend.

They'd also probably tell him something like "risk is a part of life, don't let fear hold you back from living, I know this farmer is really special to you but even if they reject you, you've still proven that you can work on yourself and if you want a partner in the future, you can be confident that you wouldn't be a burden on them, and having a relapse doesn't erase your progress..."

Yadda yadda yadda.

(Can you tell how much therapy I've been through)

I feel like if he confesses first, it would either be after a really bad lapse when he's crying and really drunk...

But more likely, he'd be tipsy and do something impulsive.

Like giving you a quick smooch when the Tunnelers score.

He panics about that retroactively, but he'll be over the moon if you reciprocate his feelings at all.

[maddiethedog2]

The Birthday - Part 3

As awareness started to wash over me again, I smiled. I felt good. I was relaxed, comfortable, and more happy then I could remember being in years. The events of earlier in the day felt like a distant nightmare. Being tied down, diapered, and gagged with a pacifier all felt like a dream. I thought to myself, maybe it was. Being forcefully babied by my wife did sound like something my fucked up subconscious would spit up.

So, to test this hypothesis, without opening my eyes, I tried to move my hands. One at a time, I pulled each of my hands to my body, and, to my surprise and delight, I wasn't met with any resistance. I tried the same thing with my feet, pulling my knees up to my chest. Just like with my hands and arms, I could move my feet and legs freely. Maybe this morning was all just a dream?

Feeling a familiar pressure in my bladder, I turned my body and sat up on the edge of my bed, the comforter still sitting on my lap. I looked around the room and nothing has changed from what I remembered prior to this morning. There were no restraints left on the bed. There weren't blindfolds or other BDSM supplies left on my nightstand. The room was clean, other than the bed being dishevelled from my sleeping in it, and was lit by a warm, late afternoon light.

Give the state of the room, I finally concluded that the events from earlier in the day must have been a bad dream. So, with my bladder aching for relief, I stood up and began walking to the bathroom. For some reason, I didn't notice the crinkling noise at every step I took or the pronounced waddle that I had with each step. I didn't even look at my reflection in the mirror as I hurriedly scuttled to my destination. My whole focus was on getting to the bathroom as quickly as possible to relieve myself. My need to pee was growing stronger much faster.

It didn't take long for my eyes to fall on my goal. The porcelain throne of my relief lay just before me. However, as I reached down to pull down my boxers, I was interrupted by a voice.

"Oh, good! You're awake! How did the birthday boy sleep?" I hear my wife's soft voice gently intone behind me.

At the sound of her voice, I turn around suddenly and face her. I can't help but smile. Despite the horrible nightmare I had earlier, she looks incredibly sexy, wearing a beautiful yellow sundress, low-cut on top to expose her ample cleavage, and cut-high on the bottom to show off her legs. I am a lucky man, I think to myself.

"I sweept guud! Danks!" I lisped out in response to Melody's question. I was oblivious to the large rubber nipple occupying my mouth, making it difficult for me to pronounce words properly. Melody giggled in response as she walked closer to me.

For some reason, as she came closer, a sensation of fear sent a shiver down my spine. Has she always seemed so much bigger than me? I thought. Before I could dwell on that thought though, Melody began to speak again.

"I am so glad to hear that baby! I wouldn't want you getting cranky on your big day. But, I have a question, why are you in the bathroom?" She asked, curiously, with a hint of mischief gleaming in her eyes.

"I've gotta pee," I responded, still oblivious to the object occupying my mouth, "I'll finish dat, den come see j'you." Melody's smile became predatory.

"Oh, baby, you didn't need to come hide in here when you potty! You can just go whenever you want to!" She said.

"What?" I lisped out, confused.

"Just make your pee-pees and poo-poos wherever you want, love. You don't need to hide like a naughty toddler. I won't judge you for using your diaper, that is what it's for!" Melody said.

At those words, my head swam. I became slightly dizzy. I grabbed the wall, and, for the first time, looked down at myself.

Like I expected, I was mostly naked expect for my underwear. My hairy, somewhat pasty dad bod on full display. What I didn't expect was the underwear I was wearing. Around my waist where, after discounting the days earlier events as a bad dream, I expected to see boxers, hung a gigantic white and pastel blue diaper adorned with a cartoon teddy bear laying on alphabet blocks. The giant, babyish garment dropped wetly between my legs. The blue line of the wetness indicator declaring for everyone who could see it that I had already thoroughly soaked the garments padding.

My mouth gaped open as I stared at myself in disbelief. As my lips parted, a pacifier that I had also not been aware of up until that point, fell to the bathroom tile accompanied by a line of drool leading directly to my parted lips.

Realization hit me like a freight train. My nightmare wasn't a dream. I was still living it.

"What the fuck, Mommy?" I said to Melody as I looked down at my wet diaper and drool covered pacifier. "Wait, why did I call you Mommy? Mommy. Mommy. Mama!" Despite my best efforts, I had discovered that, despite my best efforts otherwise, I couldn't call Melody anything but Mommy or Momma now.

I looked back up at my wife, who was now grinning from ear to ear. The totality if my situation was starting to dawn on me. If what I thought was a dream had actually happened, then, I had eventually fallen asleep with those damned headphones on. And, if that had happened, I must have given in. I'd been hypnotized.

Melody laughed as she watched the wheels turning in my head. As the depths of how fucked I was hit me, she put words to my thoughts.

"That's right baby, you fell asleep listening to Mommy's special music, and now I'm in control. You're just like the poor girls you torture in your demented little stories. You are completely and utterly at my whim."

My bladder still ached, and I almost released it in fear at my wife's words. A part of me thought that was curiously. If I had been hypnotized, why did I still have any control of my bodily functions. It didn't take long for that question to be answered.

"Don't worry though, baby, I didn't take too much from you, yet," Melody continued. "Really, I'll I've done so far is to make you a little less observant of your situation when you woke up and made sure you address me properly this weekend."

Those changes didn't sound too bad to me. However, Melody's use of the word 'yet,' was not lost on me.

"That is not to say that I can't do more if you don't behave," my wife continued. "It'll be much more fun if you know you are choosing to be my stinky little baby boy for the weekend, rather than being forced to."

"Fuck that, Mommy! I will not just lay down and be your perfect little baby! I will not just be humiliated like that! Plus, I am not just going to lay down and let you tie me up and hypnotize me again," I spat out. To emphasize my point, I reached for the tapes on my diaper, moving to rip them up in a show of defiance. However, before I could get a good grip on the tapes, Melody spoke again.

"Mommy says freeze," Melody said firmly.

I froze. Suddenly, I couldn't move. My terror started to build. This hypnosis clearly ran deeper than I expected. Regardless, I would not just give in to my wife's carefully designed torture. If anyone was supposed to choose to be the defenseless adult baby, it was her, not me. Letting myself give in and capitulate so easily would make me no better than the fictional women I wrote about in my smut. With renewed determination, I rolled my eyes up to look directly at my wife with, what I hoped, was a look of defiance and control in my eyes.

"Let me be clear, mister," Melody said with her hands on her hips, "You will be wearing and using your diapers this weekend one way or another." Melody continues to lecture me like I've seen her lecture our kids 1000 times, "You may think you have some control in this situation. That is an illusion. Like a real baby, you only have as much control as Mommy says. And, like a real baby, you will do what Mommy says."

The lecture has little effect on me. Despite this show of power, I was still certain my mind was strong enough, mature enough, to break my wife's hypnosis. I continued to ineffectually glare at her from my frozen position.

"This is what is going to happen. I am going to release you. You are going to prove to me that you are going prove to me that you can be a good baby for Mommy. If you don't, I am going to show you how much control I really have," Melody informed me.

She walked closer as she gave me further instructions. Despite my resolve to maintain my dignity, I still couldn't help but feel like her tiny frame was somehow looking over my much larger one as she spoke.

"You already told Mommy you have to make pee-pee. When I release you, you are going to prove to me you are a good baby, deserving of maintaining the control you have, by wetting your pants, do you understand?"

I just glared in response. Partially because I couldn't move my mouth or nod my head, but partially, and I would like to think this was the larger part, out of obstinance. Melody, however, choose to take my lack of response as acquiescence.

"Good boy. Mommy says you can move," Melody said.

I stumbled a little as my muscles loosened and I regained the ability to freely move.

"Now, wet yourself," she commanded.

"No!" I asserted, "I am not your fucking baby doll."

I reached for the tape of the soggy diaper wrapped around my waist again, determined to remove it and use the toilet like the adult I am. Once again, before I could make any progress, Melody interrupted me.

"Mommy says freeze," she commanded. I once again found myself reverted to a living, breathing statue. I let out a gutteral growl from my throat, the only noise I could easily make.

Melody leaned over, lovingly placed one hand on my cheek, and made eye contact with me.

"That was very, very naughty baby boy. I hoped that just freezing you was all you were going to need to be a good boy for me, but, apparently, you need Mommy to teach you a lesson," she said with a fringe of disappointment in her voice. "I am going to make sure you don't fight using your cute little diapys any more." Melody reached around me and lightly slapped my diapered ass for emphasis.

If I could have, I would have swallowed in nervousness. I have read, and written, enough ABDL smut to know what she was going to do next. She would say 'Mommy says you aren't potty trained,' or something similar, and I would release my very full bladder into my already wet diaper, causing it to leak over the floor. I'd be embarrassed. However, from my position, at least Melody and I would know that I hadn't given in, she had to force me to set myself.

Unfortunately, my premonition of what was going to happen next was wrong.

Melody stopped making eye contact me and leaned closer into me, placing her lips next to right ear. She then softly whispered her next command.

"Mommy says you are terrified of potties. Mommy says you are certain something horrible will happen the next time you use one."

Suddenly, a new phobia took root in my psyche. When I thought about toilets, my body filled with an irrational feeling of dread. Despite my overwhelming need to pee, I was suddenly certain in the depths of my soul, that if I actually used the porcelain monster behind me, my life would be in danger.

This new fear created a strange cognitive dissonance in my head. I still DID NOT want to use the diaper strapped around my waist like the pathetic man-toddler Melody wanted me to be. However, the idea of using any sort of 'potty' filled me with such a sense of existential dread that I almost found myself wetting my pants out of fear at the thought of it.

Melody's lesson wasn't over though.

"Mommy says that you are no stronger than a real toddler and are easily overpowered by me," Melody added.

Still reeling from the first command, the ramifications of the second hypnosis-enforced edict from my wife didn't immediately concern me.

Melody pulled back from my still frozen form and crossed her arms, taking the stance of a mother, about to punish a naughty child.

"Now, baby, you already told me you need to go potty. Also, you have made it abundantly clear you do not want to use your diapers. So, I am going to give you this opportunity to prove you are a big boy. I am going to help you go potty on the big boy potty, doesn't that sound fun? Mommy says unfreeze."

"No, please, no! Mommy, you can't make me. Please, don't make me go near it!" I pleaded desperately as soon as my control came back to me. Fear had taken over my body at my wife's decree. Tears had started to well in my eyes at the thought of sitting on the toilet.

I stated to work my way out of the bathroom in fear, attempting to push my way past Melody. I thought, maybe, if I made it outside, I could pee in a bush or something, and save myself the embarrassment of using the diaper wrapped around my waist as well as the terror that came from potentially using the dreaded potty. Unfortunately, before I could get far, Melody grabbed me. I tried to push past her, but found, as I should have expected, I couldn't use any more force than a toddler would against their mother. My wife was easily able to gain control of me by grabbing my wrists.

"No, no you don't baby! You have made it very clear you want to be a big boy and use the big boy potty, so that is what you are going to do!" Melody said, now dragging me easily by my wrists towards the porcelain monster, sitting menacingly in the corner of the room.

"Please, Mama, please, don't make me! Please don't make me use a toilet!" I started to beg as I ineffectually tried to pull away.

"This is what you wanted, big boy, so this is what you get!" My wife said as she dragged me through our restroom towards the toilet like a toddler who refused to be potty trained.

With each step closer to the toilet, my fear grew. Tears of terror welled up and began to pour from my eyes. I became unable to communicate I'm full sentences. Mucus started to drip from my nose.

"Mama... Please... No... No potty... No... Please no..." I wailed like a tantruming toddler as Melody continued to drag me across the bathroom floor.

When we got within a step of the toilet, my rational mind has given in. I was willing to do anything to avoid having to risk being eaten by the potty monster in front of me. In fear and desperation, I gave in. I let my bladder loose and flooded my already full diaper.

A loud hissing sound began to accompany my wails of terror. I felt the warm, wet urine fill the already saturated padding as I let lose. I then felt the fresh urine, with no where else to go, begin to leak out the leg gatherers of my babyish pants and form a puddle on the ground. The shame I felt at giving in was still overwhelmed by the terror of potentially being forced to sit on or, heaven forbid, use a toilet.

It didn't take long for Melody to notice the puddle growing on the floor. As she held my wrists, she couldn't help but smile.

"Oh no! I thought you were a big boy who used the potty? Did you just make pee-pees in your diapy?" Melody said with a look of victory in her eyes. She temporarily relented from dragging me across the bathroom floor, letting me sit my diapered ass in the growing puddle of urine underneath me.

I looked up at her, fear of the toilet, shame that I choose to piss myself rather than use a toilet, and hope that Melody wouldn't force me to use the dreaded 'potty' all drifting through me. I told her the truth.

"Yes, I peed myself," I choked out hopefully through sobs.

"What was that baby? I didn't understand you. If you don't want me to make you use the potty like a big boy, I need you to tell me what you did like the pathetic toddler you are," Melody responded.

I gritted my teeth in anger at being reduced to this, but one glance at the toilet standing less than two feet from where I was sitting, my fear took control again.

"Mommy, me make pee-pees in my diapy! Pwease don't make me use da potty!" I lisped out, unable to keep my desperation and terror from leaking into the last sentence.

My wife just giggled in response.

"Are you sure? You were SO adamant you were a big boy just a couple of minutes ago? Don't you just want to at least TRY to go potty on the potty?" She responded.

My terror spiked again. She wouldn't still force me to sit on that monstrosity would she? I could die!

Desperate to appease the monster that was my wife, I quickly responded.

"No, Mama! Me no want potty! Please, no potty! Me.... Baby."

I let the last word come out quietly. I let my head fall in shame. Melody had defeated me. She had forced me to choose to use my diaper. For all intents and purposes at this point, I was a baby.

Melody smiled. She looked down at me and saw, I am certain, just what I had admitted to being: a giant, pathetic, overgrown toddler, who had flooded his pampers in terror to avoid being potty trained. For fuck sake, I was still sitting in a puddle of my own piss only two feet from the toilet.

"Well, I guess I was right, you're just too little to be potty trained," she said triumphantly.

I didn't respond. Couldn't respond. I had lost. I had chosen to utterly debase myself, rather than use a fucking toilet like an adult. I couldn't claim that I was an adult or even a 'big boy' who was 'already potty trained' to her. The shame I felt at acting like a toddler was almost overpowered by the relief I felt in hearing that my wife wasn't going to try to potty train me.

For now, at least, I would have to be her perfect little man-baby.

[dustofthedailylife]

Radish Salad

Ayato Birthday Special 2023

→ Masterlist || → Taglist

Pairing: Ayato x (gn!) Reader

Summary: Ayato invites you to dinner on his birthday (Ayato 2023 birthday special)

Tags: Fluff, SFW

A/N: The simp in me spurred me on to pen something for Ayato's birthday... and after seeing his birthday artwork I just knew I had to. So here we are. Happy Birthday, Ayato <3

You coincidentally ran into Ayato this morning as you were out running errands on your day off. 

As usual, it was a pleasant, albeit rare, encounter to see your employer, the Yashiro Commissioner, casually drink tea in the courtyard of Komore Teahouse. You knew he didn’t get time for himself a lot. Usually, he was either too busy dealing with public affairs which caused him to be rarely at home. Or he was drowning in so much paperwork that he holed himself up in his office.

You shyly waved in his direction and smiled which he returned with an enchanting smile himself.

You were just about to walk on again when you heard him call your name. Inevitably your heart euphorically skipped a beat in your chest. Yet you were aware that harboring the feelings you did for your employer wasn’t right or appropriate so you tried to limit your interactions with him as of late. You knew being too hopeful about it would just end up in a heartbreak.

“I see you’re enjoying your day off.” he remarked with a kind smile. “Care to join me for a cup of tea?”

“Oh, uhm. I’d love to Lord Kamisato but I’m somewhat occupied right now.”

“A pity.” he hummed taking a sip out of his teacup before speaking once more after he set it back down on the table. “I had a package brought over to your house earlier. Make sure to open it today, I have extended an invitation for my birthday banquet later today and I want my most trusted staff to be there as well this year.”

You had not been aware that today was Ayato’s birthday, as he was a man who usually kept his cards close to his chest. So it wasn’t a surprise you didn’t know about it. Yet for some reason you felt guilty about not knowing as well.

“Oh, I had no idea, my apologies. Happy Birthday, my Lord.” you bowed your head in reverence to which he was quick to lift his hand.

“No need. I appreciate the birthday wishes. And I hope to see you later at the Estate.”

“Of course.” you agreed excitedly, unable to stop the corners of your mouth from crinkling upwards in anticipation. You knew you shouldn’t read into it too much but he did say he wanted his most trusted staff to be there as well, which meant, you were amongst them. It made your heart swell with pride as well as hope. Although you didn’t want to admit the latter.

You rushed home to retrieve whatever package he sent to you, only to find it leaning on the stone steps in front of your home. 

It was a small package with a pastel blue envelope stuck to it. Your name on it, as well as the letter itself, was written in Ayato’s elegant penmanship. 

The thought that the man of your dreams sat down to carefully pen your name on this very envelope you were holding, made heat rise to your face and a tidal wave of emotion wash over you, enveloping you in a cozy and soft warmth that radiated throughout your entire body.

The feeling however would prove to be fleeting as soon as you saw what the package contained that the letter was attached to. You carefully unwrapped it with an erratically beating heart, fantasizing about what the package could contain. But instead of what you envisioned, all you found were… radishes?

Was this supposed to be some kind of joke you didn’t get, a custom you never heard of, or perhaps a secret message? You were puzzled beyond belief but quickly decided to make some radish salad out of them to bring to the banquet later. Maybe everyone invited got some sort of vegetable they were supposed to prepare something with, right?

A couple of hours later as the sun was already setting on the horizon. And with a bowl of freshly made radish salad in hand, you found yourself standing in front of the Kamisato Estate. 

Your heart was beating fast as you knocked on the big front door. You were sure you could even hear it, no thanks to how quiet it was at the Estate today overall.

Additionally, it seemed to stay quiet inside. After waiting a couple more minutes you knocked again without success before deciding to walk to the garden of the Estate to see if you’d find anyone there.

Were you too early?

Walking along the stone path you soon spotted Ayato who seemed to be in the midst of sword practice.

Entranced by his fluid movements, you found yourself slowly sneaking closer to him in order to not disturb his focus.

“Lord Kamisato?” you ushered as soon as he halted his movements for a moment.

He visibly flinched, turning around in just the blink of an eye with the Katana in his hand extended in your direction, the blade turning into liquid blue with only a flash of his vision. 

“My apologies. I did not realize it was you.” he exclaimed, his eyes widened in shock as he put the katana back into its sheath before walking over to you.

“No please, I should apologize. I didn’t mean to startle you, my Lord. You must’ve been focused.” you shook your head slightly before extending the bowl with the radish salad in his direction with a sheepish smile. “I made this. It may be nothing special but I didn’t know what else to do with the radishes.”

“Radishes?” he questioningly raised an eyebrow while training his eyes on the salad.

“You sent me radishes. The package?”

The confusion on his face made your heart drop. You must’ve misunderstood the message and had now embarrassed yourself beyond belief in front of him.

“There was nothing else in the package?” he inquired.

“No. Nothing, my Lord.”

“No necklace?”

“No neck– w-what?” you stammered. What did he mean by necklace? Why would he send you a necklace?

He inched closer to you, gently taking the bowl out of your hands to place it on the stairs next to you, before leaning on the fence next to you with one arm.

His face was now hovering so close to yours that you could see the sheen of sweat from his training glistening in the evening sun. His enchanting lilac eyes trained on yours as a soft smile played around his lips.

“You heard me. I had a camellia necklace made just for you. It reassures me to know that this is why you’re not wearing it right now, my dear.”

He carefully tipped your chin up with his hand, brushing along your cheek with the back of his hand. You practically melted at the sensation as you felt the heat rise to your cheeks. The fluttering of your heart was so loud in your chest that you were sure he must be hearing it as well. You closed your eyes as you hesitantly leaned into his touch.

He watched your reaction before playfully biting his lower lip and almost boyishly smiling to himself.

When you opened your eyes again his face had become so close to yours, you could feel his breath fan over your lips and smell his aftershave. His long eyelashes accentuated his half-lidded eyes he had now trained on your eyes once more.

“I have a favor to ask of you… Please, call me Ayato from now on.” he whispered and with that closed the remaining distance between your faces, sealing your lips with his in a silent confession.

Do not repost, copy, translate or edit - © dustofthedailylife || reblogs, comments, and asks about Genshin or my fics are always greatly appreciated and motivate me! Maple dividers are mine - do not copy.

[windsweptinred]

Metamorphosis (Part 2)

(Part 1) Warning: Angst, so much angst. The author cruelly torturing the characters for your entertainment. (I promise happiness and rainbows are to come... But first, the angst)

Dream leaned into Hob's touch, taking a moment to pull courage from the gentle strength it offered. He turned his head, pressing a reassuring kiss to the centre of the left palm, then the right, before drawing free of their caress.

His attention shifted to his sister, still watching them from a distance. Her eyes shone with sorrow, though she fashioned an encouraging smile for him. Warm, yet dim in comparison to her usual beam. Dream held her gaze imploringly. His sister was her own, with her own rules. Perhaps, he had merely to ask? Oh but if that could be the case. 

"Sister, I am aware how many must have pleaded their case to you. And I know  I am no more deserving than the countless others you have denied. Your gift is a blessing. And I hope one day to joyfully be bestowed with it… But." He cast a quick look at Hob, then stared into the distance at his ravaged realm." I desire to live, truly, for the first time since…" He brought his hands up before him, staring at them intently before steadying himself with a breath. "I have found happiness, as you wished me to. May I not keep it a little longer?"

Dream watched as a tear spilled from his sister's eye, and felt his stomach descend along with it. Anxiously, he pulled away from Hob, stumbling slightly, ignoring the panicked protests from Hob and the frantic hands that tried to pull him back. Moving closer to his sister, he dropped into a wobbly kowtow before her, instinctively flinching back violently when she made to pull him up. He knew the deep hurt this would cause her, and guilt twisted within his gut like a volatile serpent. Yet he could not help but keep his distance. She pulled away haltingly a deep great weight about her. 

"If there is any way I may offer recompense, rather than my life. I will pay it, I swear this! But please, my sister, I beseech you! Grant me a little more time." 

He watched as her face crumpled in anguish, another tear slid free. 

"Oh Dream…" Her voice broke with a wretched sob as she wrapped her arms about herself in an obvious gesture of self comfort. "It's too late." 

With a look of intense reluctance she waved her hand in a come hither gesture. Cirrus and cumulus wove their way from the clearing skies above, before delicately settling within Dream's arms. Slowly, they formed a figure, as soft and white as they, and when the last wisp dispersed, there lay a young man draped across Dream's lap, body lax in an unconscious state. Head cradled safely in the bend of Dream's arm. Dream ran a finger over the youths soft, boyish cheeks, recognising instantly who this was. He felt his heart shatter. 

He heard Hob crawl to his side, anxiously taking in the new arrival laying in his lover's lap. He wove an arm about Dream's waist which seemed to calm him somewhat, having Dream back within his reaching distance. Dream immediately leaned into the support it offered. He would savour it while he could. 

"Dream. Who is this?" 

Dream closed his eyes, turning his face away, utterly defeated. He answered, voice flat, devoid of emotion. "This is… Dream of the Endless." 

Hob face contorted in confusion, glancing from Dream to the figure in his arms and back again. 

"Darling, I don't understand." 

Dream's throat worked as he attempted to explain, but he found he could not. Bile began to surge every time he tried. He shook his head despairingly.

Death cleared her throat before placing a hand on the youth's head of white curls, which draped over Dream's arm and splayed about the ground beneath him. 

"This 'was' Daniel Hall, the mortal child conceived of the Dreaming. Born with the sole purpose of inheriting the mantle of Dream from my brother."

Dream let out a breath, though it sounded more like a pained whine," How is this possible, when I still live?" He huffed a self-deprecating laugh. "Or am I already considered naught but the walking dead?" 

Hob and Death immediately let out cries of protest. Hob moving to tuck Dream under his chin, mindful not to jostle Daniel as he did. Death reached out towards her brother, stopping short. Her face was a picture of pure anguish as looked at him. Desperate to provide comfort. Dream, yearning for the familiar warmth of his sister's embrace, yet still unsure of its safety, clenched Daniel closer to him in her stead. 

"The transition of power has already begun. In the Waking, the child Daniel is dying, in the Dreaming, your power fades little brother. At the moment there are two Dream's of the Endless, and at the same time, none. The universe has halted in a state of flux and seeks to right itself. Destiny holds the page aloft. He will not turn it for as long as he is able. But it cannot stay that way indefinitely."

Hob placed a sturdy hand on Daniel's shoulder. As if attempting to offer comfort to him despite his slumber." Can you not reverse it?" 

Death's demeanour drooped further. "There's barely anything of the human child left for him to return to. If the process is stopped…" She carefully regarded Hob then Dream, before finally settling upon Daniel in contemplation. "I could offer him my hand in the place of my brother." Her expression quickly morphed into one of contrite self loathing at her own words. "There can only be one Dream. There is nothing more I can do."

To that, Dream gave a tortured grimace. A sweet offer of reprieve that rang more like a death toll. "So it is him or me? That is the truth of it?" He asked in a despondent tone. Any last vestiges of hope abandoned him. That was no choice at all. He was to die then. So be it. 

Hob whipped his head towards him, clenching Dream's side tightly, as if that alone may anchor him to living. "Dream. No!" 

Dream placed his free hand on Hob's forearm, and attempted to adopt an outwardly calm demeanour. He would not have Hob's final memories of him be his terror and distress. 

"He's just a boy. He has barely begun his first decade of life. I have had since time immemorial." 

Hob clenched his eyes shut, letting out a frustrated howl. "You think I wish to send this poor child to an early grave?! You think I don't…No. Not even if it would save you. Though god I wish right now I was still the man who could." He choked on his words. Running a hand over Daniel's brow. Subconsciously, he pulled both Dream and Daniel to him. Dream would have smiled had the situation not been so dire. Always the defender. "But I cannot, 'will' not lose you! There has got to be another way." 

Dream stomped down the hope Hob's words inspired before it had a chance to flourish. Instead, he let his fear feed irritation, fester to anger. Why was Hob making this harder than it already was? "You are being selfish." He spat. 

"Yes, yes I fucking well am!" Hob roared back. "For the first time in my goddamn life when it comes to you."

Dream recoiled at his words, chastised by the truth in them. His eyes burned as he pushed his face wordlessly into Hob's shoulder in silent apology. Breathing in his scent, basking in the feel of his skin. Committing it to memory. He placed a reverent kiss on Hob's neck. I'm sorry, I am frightened. Hob brought the hand that clutched his waist up and stroked through his hair tenderly. It's alright, I know. I am too. There they sat, locked in a solemn embrace, Daniel cradled between them. Until Hob broke the silence. 

"What's wrong with him?" 

Dream lifted his gaze to see Hob, brow drawn with concern, frowning down at Daniel. Following suit, he took in the youth in his lap. For the first time noticing the slight crease in his otherwise unmarred forehead. The strain about his eyes. The perpetual flutter of white lashes against equally pale skin. The tightness of his lips. He ran a gentle stroke down Daniel's face. Attempting to sooth his whatever plight troubled him so. 

"He suffers in his slumber."

"Dream." The authoritative tone in his sister's voice made him instinctively snap his attention towards her. "Leave him as he is. It is kinder."

Dream shook his head at her in perplexion. "My…his gift should not bring him pain." 

"Dream don't! For your own sake."

Dream looked from his sister, then to Daniel. Watching as the boy unconsciously buried further into his arm with a soft whimper. He shot Death a look of determined defiance, which she countered with a desperate shake of her head. Undeterred he placed a finger gently between Daniel's white brows and tapped. "Wake now, little prince, let the first memories of your function not be one of hardship."

Two emerald green eyes fluttered open, staring blindly at the skies above. And for a moment, Dream took stock of his successor.  Sweet, fair and glowing with youth. Eyes that shone with the promise of life and renewal. He would be a beautiful Dream for the universe in his stead. From that, he would take some comfort. 

Daniel's eyes rolled towards a Dream and their gazes locked. This was the face of his death, he thought. Yet it looked on him with such reverence. Daniel made to raise a slight pale hand towards him, before it halted mid ascent. His breath hitched and his eyes glazed, face contorting into one of abject suffering. Flinging his head back, the column of his neck taut, his slim body followed suit, going entirely rigid in Dream's arms. He parted his lips, clenched his eyes tight, and let out a blood curdling scream. 

Both Hob and Dream reared in fright, causing Daniel to fall free of their grasp, tumbling into the rocks below. He curled inwardly for a moment, before savagely clawing at the ground, as if desperately searching for purchase to offer him respite. He mewled and whined and then arched, mouth opening in a soundless cry, then another…until finally, he scratched violently at his throat and wailed. 

Despite his overwhelming urge to leap to Daniel's aid, Dream found he could not will his body forward. Indeed, he could not move at all. Each cry sent shards of ice that tore through his nerves. Each scream swirled about him like molten fire. Undiluted horror overwhelmed thought or reason. He could do nothing but watch the young man twist and turn, crying then howling. What surely must have been a soft and peaceful voice now piercing through the air, as Nightmares otherworldly screech bled through his screams. 

Hob however, was up in seconds. Scooping Daniel into his arms, holding him in a steady, secure grip. Flailing arms locked tight within his own. Writhing body supported against his chest. Whispering soft, urgent utterances into his hair. "I have you, I have you little one. It's alright." 

Death quickly followed suit, flinging herself at them, pressing her hands to Daniel's, face, neck, arm. Futility trying to offer comfort as he wailed. 

"Death, what is happening?! 

Death pressed Daniel to her breast, creating a protective frame about him alongside Hob. His white clad feet kicked violently against the ground and he bucked in their hold, as if attempting to escape it. 

"His mortality burns, the Dreaming is being torn asunder, thus so is he. Until his transformation is complete, it will not stop. He remains trapped between the two torments."

Frightful memories swamped Dream at Death's words. Torn asunder, torn asunder, torn… No, no, no, no.. "No!"

With everything he had, he crawled unsteadily on hands and knees towards them before stopping, heaving himself upward with what little control of his body still remained. With one last desolate look at Daniel's suffering face, he thrust his hand determinedly towards Death. It quivered, betraying his nerves, yet his arm stayed held aloft, sure and strong. He set his shoulders, raised his head. She startled, staring first at the hand, then assessed him with a look which betrayed nothing. He took a breath, then said in a firm, assured voice. "I take your hand my sister." 

Death did not move. 

"Please sister, I am sure." 

He felt a large hand clamp about his wrist, locking in place and squeezing. So hard his bones sang and his hand spasomed in response. 

"No!" 

He looked at Hob, and wished he hadn't. He felt his resolve already starting to chip and fray. 

"Would you have me turn blind eye and deaf ear to his agony, my love? When the fault of his suffering is mine?" 

The unspoken 'again' hung heavy and deafening. 

"Hob?" Hob turned his face away, willfully refusing to meet his eye, gently readjusting Daniel as he squirmed. His face was set in a stern frown and angry tears gathered in his eyes. Dream let out a broken sob. "Hob." He tried again. Reaching out with his free hand to cup Hob's cheek. "Will you not look at me?" Hob's eyes flicked, first to his chin, then upwards to meet his eyes. A tear broke poured from his eye, flowing down to pool in Dream's palm. "I love you Robert Gadling...so very much! Know it, remember it always. If the choice was mine, if the time was mine….I would not leave you. But fighting the inevitable brings this child insurmountable pain. And it is within my power to stop it! I.. I would go easier with your blessing." 

Hob's face remained steely and resolute, " If this was Robyn laying in my arms," He stated flatly, "You would still not have it."

Dream face fell, distraught. He clenched Hob's jaw, running a thumb frantically across his cheek. "Hob please! Don't let this be our farewell."

Hob jerked free of his touch. In his arms, Daniel clenched his shirt and groaned. He looked at Dream, eyes alight despite his evident rage and heartbreak. In his mind's eye, Dream observed the same man, centuries ago. Filthy, ragged, starving…Are you crazy? 

"This is not farewell! I can fix this, I can… Just let me think, give me time!" 

Daniel let out a frantic wail. 

"Hob please, let me go!" 

"I just need time." 

"Hob!" 

"Ju… just… STOP! 

[save-the-villainous-cat]

i uh may or may not have just binge-read through all of your writing over the past few days...it's so good!!!!!!! im screaming crying throwing up etc. 🥹🥹🥹 can i request: villain challenges hero to a game (could be a card game, chess, tug-of-war lol anything that you want!). the terms are if the villain wins then the hero steps aside and lets the villain carry out their evil plan without resistance. and at first the villain is super cocky because they think the hero is out of their element...but then the villain loses. >:)

Responding with the Sicilian Defense is usually seen as aggressive and the hero had to learn the hard way that this term perfectly described the villain’s play.

Their moves were calculated and anything but irrational. They attacked where they could and took piece after piece. It made the hero think of an unforgiving conquest as they struggled to protect their bishops and knights.

“You seem nervous,” the villain purred. They smiled to themselves when they moved a pawn to threaten the hero’s rook. “Which you should be. Your defense is laughable.” 

“I am sure it is,” the hero said, moving the rook quickly. “I usually play chess for fun and not with the pressure of thousands of lives on my shoulders.”

“Oh, come on. This is fun,” they said as they attacked the rook again. 

“Feels more like war.”

“Same difference.” The hero looked up at their opponent, raising their brows at the delusional impudence. At first, they had been surprised that the villain had chosen black. White always starts, so it was somewhat capable of controlling the start of the game. In the hero’s mind at least. 

But when the villain moved their pieces, they saw in the patterns that they used them to mock the hero. Hunting their queen across the board with their bishops, threatening them with pawns — black was answering white’s calls and it was to embarrass the hero. 

They swallowed. 

“I sometimes forget how violent you are,” the hero lied. They took the villain’s knight and lost a bishop. Definitely not ideal but sadly necessary to protect their queen. 

“You insult me, really,” the villain said. They hummed as their eyes went over the board with a wild interest the hero had never really seen before. The whole game entranced them, brought out a side of them foreign to the hero. 

The hero castled before the villain could check them. 

“Didn’t mean to,” the hero said. If you weren’t a criminal, the hero thought, if you weren’t like that, I would like to be your friend. It was a silly thought, a childish dream that was quite impossible to achieve. The villain was an interesting person but the distance put between them would never allow the hero to actually get to know their enemy. 

They didn’t like going into battle without knowing the one they were fighting but they were also aware of the dangers of understanding someone. Long ago, they had trusted people they shouldn’t, understood their motives, felt for them and if that happened with the the villain, they didn’t know if they could call themselves a hero after that. And yet…

“Oops,” the villain said, placing another piece.

It dawned on them too late, chatting too much and thinking about their relationships was throwing them off. The villain had cleverly put pressure on the hero’s queen and the hero hadn’t been able to defend her. They would have to sacrifice her. Shit, they couldn’t even trade. 

“She wasn’t my type anyway,” the hero said casually, shrugging as they put another pawn forward. The villain giggled and as stupid as it was, the hero liked that they’d made the villain laugh.

As they took their queen, the villain was as cheerful as a kid with a full supply of candies. However, that was the villain’s first mistake. 

In this exact moment, the hero became aware of their own slip-ups. They’d been so afraid of understanding the villain. They’d been so afraid that if they actually got to know them, they would end up miserably. 

The thing was, they already knew them. They knew them ever since their first move.

The battle across the board went on slowly, and concentrating more on the villain’s moves than their hands, the hero forced themselves to be careful with their pieces. One time, the villain commented on the hero’s pawn placement, saying it was adorable but the hero only nodded absentmindedly, slipping into offense instead of defense. 

Step by step, the board cleared and the villain found themselves with a knight and their last rook while the hero could only rely on their pawns. 

“You wanna give up? Would be less painful.” The hero was more confident than before, especially because they had stopped thinking about the villain and started thinking like the villain. 

They knew the villain would chase them across the board again. 

That was their second mistake. 

While the villain had been busy humiliating the hero, the hero had decided to push their pawns forward. One of them had gotten to the end of the board.

“My queen, please,” the hero said politely. It was the first time that the villain didn’t yap a snappy comment. They just gave them the piece in silence and got checkmated in four moves, losing the battle.

The hero smiled as they stared at the villain with their mouth agape.

“Oops,” the hero said. “You were right. This was fun.”

[almost-peterparker]

Possible

Chapter 3

Word Count: 1775

A/N: This one is a bit short, apologies //TW// abuse, strong language, violence, gore, etc. Also, the plot is going to be based on the manga!

You could tell that Ciel and yourself felt the same way about the idea of having to participate in a dance. His reaction was a visible twitch, yours being somewhat similar. Your reaction caused Mara to snicker. She knew that you had absolutely no dancing experience, she did. "I think it'll definitely be cuuuute!" Elizabeth squealed. "You can wear the clothes I picked for you!" She then went on some small tangent on how much of a dream would be to dance with Ciel. Ciel and Sebastian eventually headed up to the study as you and Mara went along to do other things. By that, you meant that you had nothing to do so you followed Mara around while she did her thing. After a while Mara left you, saying (suspiciously) that she had to go talk to Ciel. You shrugged it off, assuming it was something non-important, and just walked around to keep yourself busy. After a whole lot of doing nothing, Sebastian spontaneously appeared right behind you. This nearly made you shit bricks when you turned around to see him. "Jesus!" You exclaimed while preventing a heart attack. This made the butler chuckle, "Not quite." You stared at him momentarily, "Oh haha, I'm not sure if you've ever been made aware but you're hilarious man." You respond rather flatly. Sebastian merely smiled, "Of course, if I couldn't do that-" You cut him off, "Then what kind of a butler would you be right?" His brows raised in response but he still kept that stupid smile on his pretty face. As you looked at him you thought, 'Calm down, (Y/n) he isn't THAT attractive.... Damn it, I'm a liar, that's for sure.' "Lady (Y/n), did you hear me?" You hear Sebastian question, dragging you out of your thoughts as you look directly at the man plaguing them. "Uh...Yes...?" You say, not wanting him to think you were intentionally blocking him out. This elicits a sigh from the man as he stares down at you. "You weren't paying any sort of attention, were you?" "No.." You sigh. "I thought not, Lady Mara took it upon herself to inform me that you have no etiquette or experience when it comes to, as she referred to it, 'Victorian ball dance things.' As a Phantomhive servant, she felt that it was necessary for you to know how to at least dance.'" You, again, stared at the butler. "Nah, I'm okay. I'm a servant, no need to go to the ball."

"My lady, it wasn't a suggestion, I agree. To be a proper servant, especially one serving closely to the young master, you must know the simplicities of our era's celebration." This causes you to groan, "Dancing is not a 'simplicity', Sebastian, especially not when you're from my era. We don't normally have any sort of 'Ball' related things." "Precisely why I, myself, will be teaching you to dance." This made you panic internally considering that lately you'd been thinking more about how attractive the butler is. "Psh, I can figure it out myself." You laugh nervously, trying to back out of it, "I'll just be a wallflower, it's all good." Sebastian shook his head, muttering, "Just like the young master." He looked up at you, "Again, my lady, it wasn't a suggestion, now if you would follow me." He turned from you and began walking, leaving no room for any protests or arguments. You grumble and follow him; this leads you to walk into a ballroom of sorts. There was a record player off to the side. Sebastian walked over to it and turned it on, and soft music began to thrum from it. He approached you and held out a hand, "May I have this dance, My Lady?" He gave his signature smile. "I'm gonna stop you there, can you please stop calling me 'Lady (Y/n)' or 'My Lady', you make me feel old." He raised a brow at you, looking rather amused. "What would you prefer?" You hesitantly took his hand, you just knew you were going to trample this poor man's feet. "Just, (Y/n), none of that prim and proper stuff." "Of course, (Y/n)."

Returning back to the task at hand, you spoke, "Sebastian, I warn you; I lack any and all forms of grace. There is no way, even with your demon abilities, you will make it out unscathed," Sebastian chuckled in response while taking hold of your hand as he began to lead you, "I assure you; I will be fine." He raised a brow as you stepped on his foot, you were just now realizing how warm his hands actually were. For some reason, you expected a Twilight vampire effect, ice cold. You figured it was the whole 'demon' thing. Lost in your thoughts over the butler, you tripped over your own feet. Sebastian steadied you, making it seem as if it didn't even happen. "You're doing very well, (Y/n). I expected much worse due to Lady Mara's description of your abilities." Sebastian says while peering down at you. "Hey, come on, I'm pretty okay at most things." You laughed. After a few more minutes, the song ended and so did your dance. The two of you stepped away from each other, "Okay, that could have been much worse." You say while grinning. "I certainly agree. I've had to dance with far worse partners." You chuckle, "Is Ciel possibly one of them?" Sebastian smiled, slightly amused, "My, you are interesting." He avoided your question. "Ah, but you didn't say 'no.'" You say grinning. He merely smiled back at you before pulling out his pocket watch, "If you'll excuse me, I must go prepare the master for his fiancée's party. It will occur back in this room shortly. If you cannot find your way back, you may simply call, and I will come to assist you and lead you back."  With that, the butler took off. You decided to use this time to go check on Mara.

You manage to make your way back to the kitchen; you peek your head in to see Mara and Bard speaking to each other. Baldroy who seemingly saw your head pop in, set his focus on you and grinned. "'Ey, (Y/n), makin' it around alright?" This allows you to walk in without just disrupting their conversation. "Uh yeah, when you have a butler like Sebastian hovering, it sure is hard to get lost." You chuckle, approaching them. "Speaking of," You turn your eyes to Mara, narrowing them in the process, "Did you really have to tell Sebastian about my god-awful dancing skills?" She burst out laughing, calming down after a moment. "Well, think of it like revenge because you got to escape Lizzie's decorative wrath." You kept your eyes narrow. "How exactly is that my fault? Ciel literally made me leave with him and Sebastian." She simply shrugged in response. "Anyways, did he teach you how to dance?" She raised her eyebrows rather suggestively.

You huffed, "Not in the way you're obviously implying but yes, I destroyed his feet in the process."

"Wait he actually managed to get you to dance?" She questioned skeptically.  "Well, he didn't really give me a choice. I would've probably had more of an option if you hadn't made it sound like I had absolutely no talent whatsoever."  She shrugged, "You needed the assistance. Was it at least fun though?"

"I suppose it wasn't terrible." You admit. At this point, it was time for the three of you to make your way back to the ballroom, which Baldroy pointed out. If he hadn't, you wouldn't have made it on time and would have had to face the butler's wrath. Of course, as soon as you got there, Lizzie decided that she needed to dress the servants back up. Luckily she only managed to get through Bard, Finnie, and Tanaka while speaking of how excited she was. Before she could make it to Mey-Rin, Mara, or yourself Ciel had appeared at the top of the staircase followed by Sebastian.

Lizzie immediately rushed him. "You're so cuuuuute! My eyes weren't wrong!" After spinning the kid into oblivion, she gestured to the male servants, "Look! I've made everyone cute! I've let them come to the party too!" She grabbed his hand before looking down, "Huh? Ciel, where's the ring I prepared for you? There was a ring that matched the Western-style clothing, wasn't there?” She said, almost glaring at the boy. He huffed, “This ring is fine.” This led to Lizzie pretty well freaking out and demanding that he wear what she went through a lot of trouble to get. You would’ve liked to step in but you knew that would have poor results. But, knowing what was gonna happen, you began inching closer to the couple arguing. This elicited a brow raise from Sebastian and Mara staring at you, probably knowing what you were going to attempt. And wouldn’t you know it, she snatched the ring from the boy. This obviously pissed him off. “Give that back Elizabeth!” He practically growled. ”Why are you mad like that? I worked so hard…” She trailed off. Her brows furrowed, “I just made you cute so why are you mad? This ring…I hate it!” She exclaimed, throwing the ring. You quickly took off knowing that she was about to throw it. You dove for it and just barely managed to stop it from hitting the ground. Sighing in relief, you got up and shuffled away from the two. You watched Ciel raise his hand to smack Elizabeth before Sebastian spawned behind Ciel, placing his new cane into his hands. Sebastian then explained the importance of the ring. Ciel calmed down and declared that the ring wasn’t what made him a Phantomhive and propositioned Lizzie for a dance. Which she, of course, didn’t oppose. While they were dancing, you walked over to Sebastian and passed him the ring. “My, how generous of you stepping in to save the day like that.” He said amused. “We’ll, ya know, just doing my part around here.” You chuckle. “I’m my own version of ‘one hell of a butler.’ This caused Sebastian to smirk.

After everything was said and done, they had Lizzie sent home and you retired to your room and plopped onto your mattress. It had been such a long day. Yet, all you kept thinking about was the black-clad butler. This was seemingly going to be a problem. You sighed and decided it would just be best to go to sleep. So with that being said, you fell asleep to dreams of dancing and shattering rings. 

[headingalaxys-spicy]

yandere norway headcanons pls (maybe some nsfw teehee)

Forgive me but I can’t think of N$F W headcannons right now for him. His personality airs on the side of asexual and not really the type to be into situations. But what’s do I know it’s just the ramblings of a woman who’s lost her mind probably.

Anyways hope you like this post!

He’s one of the most difficult to read Yandere, similar to that of Sweden, Iceland, and Japan.

When he does have a darling that he takes an interest in he will not approach you at all.

In fact by the time you do meet him it’s at least a year before he will introduce himself to you. He takes his sweet time in trying to figure out your personality through parasocial interaction, information that his magical friends bring him, and through subtle gestures that you get the hint and follow his lead. He’s not a particularly dangerous Yandere, somewhat forceful but not to the degree where it trips red flags like England would, as a fellow magical yandere.

Dude will go through all of your socials and read the backlogs. He will be entertained by the more than a decade old post that you wrote and about how you hate HS. He will build a perfect picture in his head of how you actually are in reality and anticipates the changes that have occurred in your life that have led you to be the human that you are now. Perfect in his eyes, and feels that you waste too much time in (home country). Where the standards of living are pathetic compared to the happiness that his people have.

He will occasionally join a stream you have going, IG live, Tiktok live etc Just to hear your voice so that when he goes to sleep at night he has something that can ease his mind and add to his imagination. The sight and sound of you flood his mind like great tides flowing in from the Northern Sea. He can sleep soundly.

His magical friends from the other side will aid him by pilfering things that you 9 times out of 10 won’t realize are missing. Things like a lip-gloss, sticky-notes that you used for meetings over zoom, that water bottle you thought you left on the bus.

He watches you like a tv show of sorts from his magical room. It’s nice for him to be able to gaze at your beauty from afar without having to exert himself.

Eventually the numerous sea of strings will overwhelm his soul and he will eventually want to be much closer to you than to have just the vision of you. Which at least as far as Yandere’s go is not nearly as bad as what England might do.

Norway is going to want to meet you in a fantasy he created and keep you there. He was able to look into your past memories using his magic to learn more about you and what makes you comfortable, what are your deepest dreams, etc.

“What makes you happy?”

Late one night. You brought your tired eyelids to a close. You had just survived a long tumultuous day . You didn’t want to think about anything. You didn’t want to think about anyone. You just wanted to sleep. When your eyelids closed for the last time you were brought to a new reality, one of which were it felt as though it were real.

“Oh (insert greeting that is most common for your nationality but for more friendly terms) Y/N how are you? Ready to bake (favorite dessert) and watch the ocean cam? I heard that tonight is supposed to be particularly exciting because of the storms raging on tonight.”

“Oh yeah! I’ve been in a haze of sorts. Hahah.” Not fully aware of your body but you wanted to at least try to regain some control. Everything felt fine even though you felt a little lightheaded but nothing too intense to hinder your basic functionality. All will be fine in this sweet daydream since Norway is great at keeping his close family entertained.

[paramorearchived]

July 2, 2012

Transcript:

Oh Glory.

Oh glory. When I was 17, I started writing lyrics to a song that would later be called “Let The Flames Begin”. It was on our sophomore album, RIOT! I never felt like it really sounded as meaningful on record as it seemed when we played it live. Over the years, we added on and added on to it. Not only is it one of our favorites to play at shows but one of the most highly requested live songs by… ahem… you guys. Maybe it’s just because the song is heavier than most our other songs or maybe it’s cause it feels really emotional to sing some of those words. Either way, it means a lot to all of us.

The lyrics touched on the way I saw us (people who were around my same age at the time) and how we fit in to society… and sort of lightly dusted the topic of the human condition. How broken we must seem from the outside, to whoever happens to be looking in. I have always had that deep sort of hurting feeling that happens when you hear a tragic story of someone young who is diagnosed with a terminal sickness, or when you see someone homeless and begging on the side of the road who you could give a couple dollars to but could never really help… but I get it all the time… just about the world at large. Because I feel, truly and deeply, that we are all searching for some kind of cure or some kind of quick fix, all the time. Always filling a void. I do this every day even when I’m not aware. The condition of being alive and breathing. “How can I please me?” It’s not with pessimistic eyes that I see all these things, I just believe it’s realistic. For some people, there is faith that more is at work than just the brokenness of all of us. For others, it’s enough just to know that we try to be the best human we can be and make whatever difference we can. Whatever your pleasure, belief, sorrow or triumph… we are all human and we are all constantly facing some sort of brokenness. Of the heart, of finances, of family, of dreams… it is real pain and it can’t be ignored.

Sometimes the only thing that gets me through a hard time is knowing that we are all (somewhat) in the fight together. Even as we might feel like we’re fighting alone, there billions of other humans doing exactly the same thing. In whatever their respective fights may be. I don’t know how it helps but really, it does. To know that no one has it figured out. It’s a bit of a drag but it’s just good comfort.

Seeing as even a good 6 years later I still feel all these things about life and being human, it probably should’ve been obvious that we’d write another song with a similar message for the new album. This time around I feel like it comes across a bit more hopeless… but actually that’s what excites me the most about it. To me, it’s getting to the bottom of what you thought was a bottomless pit… and that’s where you surrender yourself to whatever is next. That’s what billions of other people are doing right now. Hitting the bottom only to lift their gaze up and figure out how to get off of the ground again. Yeah, knowing that definitely helps.

It’s strange that a song about all this could go on what is about to be the most positive and most intoxicatingly fun Paramore album we have ever written… but somehow it works. And anyways, anyone who knows me knows I can only write so many happy lyrics til I have to start venting about something else again.

This is long and it’s late and I hope it makes sense to anyone if not all of you who actually read it.

H

[blackjackkent]

Heading into the first door on the left we get a small dining area that ties into the kitchen we saw before. Hector passed a quite gross perception check:

Yuck. What?

There's a ladder nearby that leads up into a series of catwalks so I sent Hector up to parkour around and see if we can find the source of the slime.

Aha.

There are slightly undulating purple mucus tentacles coming out of this cracked wall, and this location is now identified on the map as "Suspicious Sounds."

[sigh]

"We could just ignore it, you know," Hector says to me in my head, somewhat plaintively. "Maybe that's not my business. Remember the last time we broke through into a room with suspicious sounds? There was a bugbear and an ogre having sex, and I still haven't recovered from the sight."

"Shut up, Hector," I say cheerfully. "It's my liveblog, you're just living in it."

Hector sighs and peers into the wall.

Narrator: Through a narrow crack in the wall, you hear something shift against stone. The pulse of a crawling, living thing.

[ARCANA] Determine what it is.

Narrator: You can't quite catch a glimpse, but you recognize this feeling - the same alien presence you felt on the nautiloid.

Oh, this is such a terrible idea. But it's not the first time Hector's sense of curiosity has convinced him to do something ill-advised.

Reach in.

"You find anything, Hec?" Karlach calls from down the ladder.

"I'm...not sure..." Hector answers, squinting at the cracked stonework and undulating flesh. "I need to look closer...one moment."

"Hec, wait, I'm not sure that's a good--"

Narrator: Your awareness unfolds, expanding through every wall in the tower...every mind... A vast, living network, extending down into the dark...where something wakes...

Hector feels the shift of the situation just slightly too late to do anything about it, just as Karlach starts climbing the ladder to stop him, just as the Dream Guardian screams out in his mind--

"IT'S A TRAP!"

Narrator: Tendril's snap like iron cords around your wrist. That presence in your mind looms large, closer now.

The pain is immediate, his wrist captured and bent at an excruciating angle. He's dimly aware of Karlach shouting his name but he can for a moment think of nothing else but the agony and the sense of being watched by something huge and all-consuming.

For a moment panic rises in his gut - but his training and instinct is stronger.

[MONK][DEXTERITY] Twist your wrist to break the grip.

Narrator: With a soft sucking sound, your hand pulls free. The flesh within the wall retreats.

"What the fuck was that?" Karlach asks from behind him; she's crested the top of the ladder and has her sword out and is pointing it in the direction of the crack in the wall.

"I'm...not sure," Hector mutters hoarsely, trying not to look as shaken as he feels. "There's some kind of...creature living in there. Something...very big. A network of somethings, maybe."

"Under the circumstances," Gale comments from halfway up the ladder, "it would very much not surprise me if the tadpole network of interconnected minds is a much stronger and more, shall we say, material thing than we have been used to considering it. We should tread lightly."

"I think you're right," Hector says grimly. His right glove is coated in a strange black, oily substance that drips in viscous globs onto the catwalk. "Everyone be on your guard. And clearly any holes like this are dangerous."

"Hector," Shadowheart says wearily from ground level, "we could have all told you that before you stuck your hand in."

[enkisstories]

The next morning the returned house owner found his backyard occupied. He knew each and everyone of the intruders, but it remained a fact that he hadn't invited them today.

Armitage: "What are all those people doing in my swimming pool?"

Finn: "As per the landscaping act of 36 ABY, every pool over a certain size is a public pool for four hours a day. Rose picked the morning hours."

Finn: "The early opening times discourage the city people to come out here, but leave everyone from the valley free to use this pool after tending to the lifestock. Black Spire has its own public pool anyway, so no loss for them."

Armitage: "Did the city council pass that act?"

Finn: "No. The Supreme Leader of the First Order. Therefore it only applies on our territory, but that's where we are here."

Armitage: "The Supreme...? Oh. I see."

A brief stop to exchange "Good Morning"s and "Welcome back"s with Masir and Tishra...

They and Frantis were living fulltime on the Steadfast in orbit again, but often came to visit Batuu's surface.

Tishra: "The New Republic expected the First Order to plunge into a civil war after your "death". They were fuming when Lord Sloane-Dameron revealed himself as the rightful successor and immdiately got accepted."

Finn: "Not as much as I was fuming at the development! And then everyone went on about how much I embody my late grandmother, whom I never met. I'm still trying to come to terms with having gotten raised by militaristic jerks, what was a thousandfold more formative than having inherited a couple of genes from a somewhat less evil imperial commander."

Armitage: "You two either dunk your Supreme Leader or he shuts up voluntarily. Right. Now."

Finn: "I get it, the Grand Admiral was your mentor. Feel free to tell me about her, but be aware that I offer this for your benefit, not mine!"

Masir: "Change of topic! A few officers left after the leadership change, taking some ships, troops and equipment with them. But in the past fifteen months they were all dealt with."

Armitage: "Phasma...?"

Tishra: "Stayed with us. She gloats about how Lord Sloane-Dameron is everything he is now because of her and how he has defeated her twice."

Armitage: "I apologize for dropping this on your head out of the blue."

Finn: "Thanks. At first I was angry about getting saddled with this role. I was about to decline, but then I realized that you guys are not suited for self-rulership yet. My life goals boiled down to "avoid a steady job" anyway, so it wasn't as if I'd had a dream career that got taken from me.

Quite honestly I see myself more as the commandant of the occupation forces than a "Supreme Leader". I try to salvage whatever is salvageable of the system and by now I have a real good feeling about this."

Armitage: "You do?"

Finn: "Yes! The New Republic no longer being the biggest fish in the pond, but having to share this role with two others, has forced them to critically look at some of the things they've done since their formation. As a result they're shaping up again."

Armitage: "I surrendered the First Order to you and you go on manipulating the whole galaxy?! And people called ME ambitious!"

Finn: "Haha! I'm done running away, Armi. Now it's time to step on a couple of toes!"

[pb-dot]

The Sisypheanism of Self Care

I don't know if the title is strictly accurate or uses words that are actual words, and neither do I care. Today's been a rough one and I'm granting myself license to be a little extra.

In the last year or so I've become acutely aware that the various mental health care I've been receiving hasn't really been hitting the mark. The talk therapy fails to function as much more than a pressure valve, although it in fairness has been a great pressure valve when I could get it. The problem is that we, that is to say, I and my doctor, former therapist, and social services caseworker haven't really made any inroads into making my life any better or breaking me out of my depression, or this spiral of unemployment, taking a job that doesn't fit my strengths, working until I have burnout and quit - repeat that I have been caught in for most of my adult life.

I was hoping there was an end coming to this time of faffing about with common sense cures for depression, my doctor currently suggests I lose some weight (I know, you're shocked) and take cold showers. In fairness, treatment-resistant depression probably isn't her field of expertise being a GP and all. Anyway, the reason why I hoped this was because I've recently been referred to the public psychiatric center that I know takes a somewhat more clinical approach to treatment, so although I wasn't holding out hope of being "cured" anytime soon, I was kind of hoping this would land me with a treatment plan of some sort. Maybe some different meds? A supplementary diagnosis of some sort? Who's to say, but a fella can dream, can't he?

So far I've talked to two separate mental health professionals who both seem deeply unsure about what to do about me. Out-fucking-standing. Oh, there were also some blood tests as I expressed I was a bit uncertain whether my antidepressants were, in fact, doing anything. I suppose that is the first thing you do in that instance, but I'm just expecting to hear that my body is treating the meds right, and the question if it does do something remains kind of floating in the air. That is, if it doesn't turn out I'm secretly immune to these as well.

Anyway, it's impatience on my end, and I'm fully aware of it. Diagnosing mental health conditions and neurodivergence is tricky and the consequences for making the wrong call can be pretty bad. That said, I'm just tired of getting mh treatment that I can't actually tell if does anything at the same time as I'm getting help getting back to work that I can't tell if does anything, and every time I talk to anyone in my life about this I can't but shrug and go "it'll pay off eventually... I hope."

It's all just such a waste. I was such a bright child in school, and although I wasn't quite as much of a standout during university, I did ok considering I was heavily depressed at the time. Hell, I'm still smart, pretty darn smart in certain fields, I would suggest, and my last formal test of my mental capabilities would agree. And yet, here I sit. Unemployed, frustrated, depressed, a walking pile of anxiety and dark thoughts so robust they almost, but thankfully not quite, should count as a philosophy by now.

Where did I go wrong? There are probably a bunch of things I could have done differently, but frankly, I also feel like Society, that old villain, has failed me in some rather profound ways. It's not just how difficult it has been getting mental health help that actually does something, or how absolutely debilitating being unemployed can be, although these certainly do contribute. My problem isn't just that my life is being made measurably worse by our old foe Late Stage Capitalism, although most of these are just made worse by that cancerous corpse of an ideology. The world seemingly has no place for me it feels like. Loneliness pushes in around me from every conceivable angle, dating is a nightmare, every job requires multi-year experience or specialized education I hadn't even heard about before reading about them, there seems to be no thought put into how exactly anyone not fitting into this cripplingly overspecialized work market is supposed to live their godfuckingdamned life, and that's not even getting into the climate shit.

I honestly hate how easy it is for me to pivot from talking about depression to unemployment. I hate how employment has to be a factor in my mental health. I hate how approximately nobody I've talked to about it, on the professional side, seems to get that I wasn't less depressed back when I was working. I hate how I can't get a job because it feels fucking impossible to be enough of a "go-getter with can-do attitude" to even make it to the interview stage when nothing feels good or worth it. I hate the fucking catch-22 of it all, and I hate that neither psychiatrist nor doctor nor case worker can even begin to unravel this Gordian knot for me, or even tell me where in the good grace of fuck I might begin pulling.

It's like they're saying "Sorry, your depression is untreatable and although we won't say it to your face, the labor market's general indifference to you should tell you that you have no place in it which in the current order of things means you have no value. Shame about that, someone probably should've told you all this before you did your best in school and endured the social ostracization that followed with being a kinda weird kid that loved books, all fueled by the fucking lie that it'd get better once you were done with school."

So yeah. I'm not having a fantastic day today, but I think getting some bile out of my system might have helped me feel a little less terrible? Better days than this will come, I'm sure. I'll try doing nice things for myself the rest of the day, although I'm not quite sure what they were. If I shitpost or rb more saucy art than usual today, that's probably what I ended up with

[funkymbtifiction]

Hey, Charity! Could I be an ENP? Or am I overestimating my Ne? If it helps, I’m either an enneagram 9 or a 6 - leaning towards 6, tho. Thanks :)

I’m not indecisive, but I like to keep my options open. If something better show up, I won’t mind leaving things behind, even if they’re unfinished. I like to “feel” that I’m choosing the right thing, though, since I’m afraid of making mistakes. Does my anxiety makes me second guess my feelings? Yes. I’m either right about things or completely wrong, no in between. I don’t consider myself a doer, thinking about things is usually enough for me. I hate to be alone with my thoughts and I’d rather have someone to discuss them with. If I like a certain subject, I’ll enjoy discussing everything there’s to know about it with my friends. I easily classify things as good/bad and have to push myself to see the tones of grey. I’ll defend what I believe in if I think it’s worth it to do so. I’d say that I’m somewhat “me” focused, since I’m constantly aware of my emotional state, focused on figuring my identity out and may act like my feelings are the most important thing in the room. My logic is internal. I draw conclusions by myself and then compare them to external facts to decide what’s true or not. Do I think about the future? Yes and No. I like to idealize the future, feeding my brain with possible scenarios that’d be fun if they became true. But my decisions are made based on what I’m feeling at the present. I don’t think “oh, this will fit perfectly with my 10 year life plan.” I’d rather go with the flow than planning for years ahead. I only make short term plans (a few days from now maybe). At my worst, I become a hypochondriac and a worrywart. I’m suddenly afraid that I won’t be able to “live” anymore if something bad happens to me. When I feel this way, I need to push myself outside and do things to keep me distracted. Stay at home dwelling and worrying may be tempting, but won’t do me any good.

Contradictory traits: I’m seen as the “responsible one” in my friend group, since I’m the one who usually reminds people things like “we should leave now, otherwise we’re gonna be late and x is counting on us”. I wouldn’t say that I like to control people, but sometimes I feel the need to push them to avoid problems. My family constantly mentions how much I’m alike my STJ father. Both of us are organized, methodical, realiable and a little bit too blunt with our words. My ENFP friend and I constantly discuss about my type and she doesn’t think I’m idealistic enough to have high Ne. She has these big and unchangeable goals ever since she was a teenager and she hates when other people come around to explain how “reality” works. Meanwhile, I’ve changed my mind dozens of times about my future, having tons of ideas I’ve never followed through. I also like to consider new povs, especially when the advice comes from people I respect. A little bit of realism won’t hurt, it’ll only mean that I’ll be prepared for what’s ahead.

You sound like an ENFP, yes. You give good arguments for Ne, Fi, weak Te, and nominal Si (not finishing things, abandoning them, changing your mind and dreams all the time, being blunt and fearful of stagnation). But... that your “ENFP” friend has had “big and unchangeable goals” since she was a teenager probably rules out Ne-dom for her. It sounds more like a judging type or Ni in her stack (NJ). Ne is as you describe it -- always changing, always pursuing what’s interesting in the moment, rarely sticking to one dream for your life, starting in on things and losing interest and abandoning them. You have the Ne, lol.