#its honestly incredible. unbelievable

[eldritchqueerture]

therapy can be something that is so eldritch horror coded actually

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

Part 2/2

By the time Stanley had realized he wasn't as alone as he believed himself to be entrapped in this ravenous abyss; he had honestly begun to suspect that he was finally starting to properly lose his mind.

In all the ceaseless miles that Stanley had journeyed during his apparent permanent residence within the dark devouring void, not once had he encountered another conscious, walking, talking being similar to himself. Every other formerly living creature that he had crossed paths with had been so... silent. Empty. Dead, in every sense of the word. It was as though the very essence of life itself had been sucked out of their bodies with a straw, their forms slowly falling apart piece by piece under the vicious gluttony of the darkness that surrounded them. They looked like they actually were supposed to be there, unmoving and comatose, unlike him.

So, when Stanley first began to encounter the twins, all of a sudden, he wasn't the only one in the dark.

When meeting the first pair of them, he found himself standing in a lake.

He hadn't even noticed the changes at first. It felt as though he had been walking for weeks on end, his body moving purely on autopilot and his aching legs leading him towards a destination only it knew. A thick fog of forgetfulness and flickering memories had descended upon his brain like a heavy blanket of numbing static as he had traveled. In this absentminded state, he hadn't even realized that the ever-present undulating, buzzing darkness surrounding him had begun to gradually shift and morph to form a horizon line; stretching into tall looming cliffsides that almost seemed to close in on him. Once the nonexistent floor beneath his soles abruptly began to ripple and warp, like the disturbed surface of a shallow puddle; only then did he finally notice his transformed environment.

The transition was seamless, almost dream-like. One moment, he was still surrounded by that filthy, overwhelming abyss; and the next, his boots were suddenly plunged deep into the cold, dark lake water.

The silence didn't leave, however. It still choked and stuffed its way into Stanley's ears to clog up his mind with thick cotton; the eerie quiet not quite matching the calm, almost serene scenery the void seemed to have abruptly transformed itself into. Like a movie with its sound cut off; leaving only the unsettling hum of the projector to fill the empty air.

It was odd. The lake was surely incredibly deep. He could obviously tell from how thin and pathetically small the shores appeared all the way from where he now unceremoniously stood in the middle of the lake. Stan could look down and see the darkness below his feet swallow what meager light that managed to break through the murky waters. The overwhelming black almost seemed to beckon him, gaping and haunting; a bottomless underwater pit of pitch black that never seemed to end.

And yet, he didn't sink. Stanley remained perfectly level, the almost ink like waters stopping just at ankle level, as though he were held up just above the surface by some invisible force. Even the writhing waves seemed small and low, as though the waters were shy to climb up his legs further than that. It was odd, so very odd.

However, it wasn't nowhere near as odd as the sight that greeted him when he finally lifted his eyes from the waters.

Stanley had crossed paths with truly unbelievable sights in this strange somewhere; from bursting, collapsing stars; to the imploding heat death of entire universes, but none of them seemed to hold the candle to what he saw then when he lifted his eyes:

Children.

Two, to be exact. Two, nearly identical looking children stood motionless before him; completely soaked through to the bone as though they had taken a plunge into the frigid water that pooled around their ankles. It was a girl and a boy, both adorned with twin expressions utterly devoid of emotion, their wide eyed stare seeming to burn holes into his thin jacket. Their drenched clothes sagged off of their scrawny frames; thin rivulets of water dirpping off of them and disturbing the glassy surface of the water at their feet. The little girl's hair had messily stuck to her face in thin sodden strands, her cheeks still full and round with youth just like the boy's. They looked young. Too young to be in a place such as this.

Oh, but their eyes; their eyes.

They burned with such anger; such injustice, brighter than any dying star or galaxies he had ever seen. Anger towards the world, to fate, to whatever cruel deity that had deemed them fit to be sent to this wretched place so prematurely. They were too young to be here; to be entrapped like he was amongst this hungry darkness. And yet, here they were, sheer denial against their own untimely deaths being the only thing keeping them awake and conscious amongst the dead and rotting. A show of juvenile defiance to nature itself so vehement even the all-consumign darkness seemed hesitant to devour them whole just yet.

It saddened him. It saddened him to know that they belonged there, that they were supposed to be there. He could see it, he could feel it; they were dead. No amount of determination could deny that universal fact.

When they spoke, Stanley could hear anger:

Stan chuckled in a futile attempt to lighten the suddenly heavy atmosphere that threatened to crush him whole. "A lake monster? You kids and your imagination," he teased, hoping to somehow rid the poor kids of the haunted look that seemed to whirl in their glares. No child should have been burdened with such a knowing look; such eyes that looked like they had seen everything there was to see about the world, the horrid and the good.

Clearly, it had been the wrong thing to say, and Stanley's faux pas was rewarded with a scowl from the little boy. A world's worth of sour contempt etched into every contorted groove that his grimace seemed to dig into his much too young face. Stan suddenly felt guilt squeeze at his weary bones for having caused that.

"That's what they all said," the boy spat out, eyes shining with a sheen of wetness Stan wasn't sure he was prepared to deal with.

Stan left that first interaction with the twins with the feeling of guilt and sorrow still clining to him.

He couldn't have known, at the time. He couldn't have known that this wouldn't be anywhere near the last time that he would meet the pair. He hadn't realised just how many of them there were. After that first pair, his endless journeying within the Abyss was hardly be spent alone anymore. Countless more times, he came face to face with the exact same two young and impossibly worn faces; forced to meet one pair of beaten and bruised kids after another.

Not one pair had died the same death as another. Some had gotten lost, prey to whatever threat that had snatched them up out in the open; some had fallen from high up; some had been crushed under an incredible weight; some had burned; some eaten alive; some zombified. Some didn't even seem physically harmed at all, body perfectly intact, and yet that same faraway, distrubed look in their eyes remained.

He thought the worst ones were the ones he found alone. A little girl or a little boy, left all lonesome without their other half there. Twins, he remembered a pair of them telling him once.

Once, he had come across a town full of silent, stone statues. It was a rustic, shabby, almost nostalgic looking town- odd and strangely familiar. The sight of it had tugged at an aged memory that had long since wasted away in the back of his mind. It was serene, almost deceptively so. The sun shone; the air smelled crisp and fresh; numerous waterfalls continued to crash down from the tall cliffsides; and a soft nonexistent breeze whistled through the thicket of pine trees that blanketed the outskirts of the town. None of it seemed to match the gruesome scene of the hundred wailing statues that littered every inch of the town.

He had found the boy's statue on the other side of town, deep within the green forest and toppled over the gnarled roots of a towering tree. Like the rest of the townsfolk, he too, was frozen mid-shriek; his stone face twisted and contorted into a mock impression of a silent scream as his body lay paused in a writhing struggle. He made sure to be gentle when he carried the boy's statue over to place it beside the girl's, whose statue stood far deeper into the forest, sporting the same rictus grimace of terror as her brother's. It somehow felt wrong for them to have been so far apart from one another, even in death.

He had come to dread meeting of the twins. He hated every second he had to confront yet another pair of dead children that did not belong here, but fate had decided they did. He despised having to listen to their tales of woe as they wept about the injustice of the world, of having died young; he despised himself for being unable to do more than weep with them.

"We don't belong here, Grunkle Stan," he would listen to the little girl weep, calling him a title he didn't recognize. He never remembered if they had ever told him their name, but they all seem to know his, without a fail. "If we're dead, then what about you? What about Grunkle Ford? Mom? Dad? What about them? We can't be dead, we can't be," they would say, confusion and frustration written all over their faces. They didn't understand. They didn't understand why they had come to the darkness so early, so unfairly.

He never knew what to say, he'd never been good with words.

All he could do was kneel down to their levels and engulf them in his arms, hoping he could somehow squeeze the pain straight out of their bodies in his embrace. He hugged them, because what else could he do?

[the-fandom-is-now-my-life]

Could umm… you happen to do another if creator had a child and its wanderer. The only odd/strange thing about the baby is that they have ball joints like a puppet?just wondering

The creator had a 

Doll like child

Wc: ~700

“Wanderer?” You ask without fully expecting an answer, whenever you spend the night stargazing both of you get lost in your thoughts.

“What?” 

“What we did a few weeks ago was to spite Raiden?” your eyes look at him,m while he still lays down, the dark fibers of his hair brushing against the milky white of his skin “Hey, answer”

“You are incredible, you know” his brow furrows and softly sighs “asking such dumb questions”

“Just answer it”

“Do you truly need me to say it to your face?” he looks tired, as if the question seemed so unbelievably obvious to him. When your eyes meet he sighs again like an angsty teen “no, I didn't start intimacy with you just to bother the hag. I would never fall that low”

A soft hum leaves your lips, nodding to the comforting words you had to wrangle out of him.

“Why even the question? That was like four months ago” 

“I think I might be pregnant” his surprised jolt almost made him slide off the roof.

“How is that possible even?” He presses his elbow, feeling the ball and socket joint underneath the false skin. Two pieces of wood rotating around a small sphere rather than your own arm, where the bones were secured by ligaments and muscles had to contract for every movement.

“Honestly, I wonder the same”

“Aren't you supposed to know everything?”

“Last time I checked dolls weren't able to reproduce”

“Do you think it will be human or more like… me?” the last part of his question sounded almost heartbroken. Softly you grasp his fingers in your hand, encouraging him.

“I will love them regardless”

“How weird, at birth Ara seemed pretty hypotonic, but now she seems alright” one of the bimarstan nurses checks the baby, pulling her off the ground from her arms and laying her flat on her palm. But she felt like a ragdoll if it wasn't by her breathing and her annoyed expression by the handling

“At least there doesn't seem to be anything else”

“let's just keep an eye on it” she promptly returns her to you.

‘could that be because of wanderer? He said that part of what kept him together was elemental energy, it could be that as she grows she absorbs it’ 

“Ara, what are you doing?” You ask playfully to the toddler who sneaked in the kitchen and made a mess with the pots and lids.

“I see someone is quite active this morning, huh?” The father of said child pops from behind you, passes by your side and plops the year old on his hip. Her gummy smile is an adorable sight, her chubby hand pointing to his hat and the other grabbing the lid she put on her head.

“Are you trying to imitate someone?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” He looks at his child and back at you “we aren't even that similar” he says while holding his mini clone. At the same time they both lean their head sideways, the hats leaning towards that side.

“Isn't she so cute?” Nahida looks at your toddler daughter brushing her doll's hair, her dark hair framing her face and her big blue eyes reflecting the sunlight off them.

“She does remind me of a Hina doll” Raiden approaches a hand to pat her head but Ara slaps it away before poking out her tongue and rushes outside “did she just…”

Your hand cups your cheek, curious at what happened to your usual quiet baby “That is quite unexpected, she does tend to enjoy getting her hair played with” could hatred be inherited by genes? That was the only reason you could think of for a 3 year old to hate Raiden on sight.

“And if you see a woman wearing a kimono and a braid she is a witch that came to curse you, so make sure to kick her in the shin, understood?”

“Kitty!” the girl yells as she opens her presents

“Yes, that is a cat, Bu’er brought it to you for you birthday” as you look deeper into the black cat you can't help but feel its dark fur and purple eyes remind you of someone. Even more so when a small black kitten and a coloured cat are also in the box.

[minisugakoobies]

Confessions of a Dirty Mind | Bang Chan

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader Genre: smut, and they were roommates!, porn with the barest of plots, a little fluff Rating: M (18+) Warnings: incredibly thirsty pining, reader’s a bit feral for her roommate, the giggles will be deployed as a weapon, reader drops the d word (daddy) in her dirty thoughts but never says it out loud, accidental texts, body worship (abs, thighs, breasts - everything gets praised), love bites/marking, grinding, chan is thick everywhere, chan throws reader around a little, hints at dom!chan, fingering, oral sex (m + f receiving), facefucking, cum eating, reader is kind of an idiot but that's okay!, I wrote this out of a dire need to s this man’s d Word Count: 6.5K Disclaimers: NSFW; obviously I don’t own SKZ - they just inspire me Summary: The absolute last thing you want is for your roommate to find out just how much you want him. Right?

A/N: Well, as threatened promised, I'm writing for Stray Kids now in addition to BTS! This came out of absolutely nowhere last week. I've just got Bang Chan brainrot 24/7 now, so that's cool. Thanks to @minttangerines @bangtanintotheroom @sugalaritae for their support (and amazing Aussie accents!!) 💕

Unbeta'd as usual. Please let me know what you think! Like if you'd like to see more skz fics from me… that would fuel me to keep writing. If everyone hates this I'm quitting writing and moving to the wild to live with the koalas ✌️

Being roommates with your crush is its own special type of torture. Always being so close to what you want but never being able to touch. To taste. To feel. 

You weren’t always this feral. Once upon a time, you were normal. Well-adjusted, even. Then you had to move for your job and needed to find a place to stay fast and your best friend Minho just happened to know someone looking for a roommate. 

Honestly, looking back, it was too easy. Should’ve known there’d be a catch. And that catch was your sanity. 

Because Minho’s friend Bang Chan turned out to be the hottest man you’ve ever seen in your life. 

Listen. A lot of people use phrases like that all the time, “the hottest man you’ve ever seen,”  some hyperbole they say for ridiculous effect, but you mean it. You have never seen anyone as beautiful as this man, with his chiseled cheekbones, thick lips, and those dimples. 

Fuck. Those dimples. Almost as maddening as the washboard abs he’s constantly showing off. You didn’t know a person could be allergic to shirts until you met Chan. 

And now you’re suffering. Every. Damn. Day. 

It’s not just that he’s the most gorgeous man on the planet. No, that would be hurtful enough, but he’s also kind. Smart. Silly as hell. You’re constantly plagued by his sweet smiles and unbelievably adorable giggles. 

The worst part, though, is the way he can flip between sexy and soft instantaneously. Like when the two of you argue over something stupid. All of your arguments are fundamentally stupid. The two of you get on so fucking well, the only things you argue over are opinions on pointless things. Like last night, when you’d joined him for a beer while he watched tv. 

“You’re out of your mind,” Chan had declared, twisting sideways on the couch to look at you. “There’s no way a koala could possibly defeat a kangaroo in a cage match!”

“Sure it could.” 

“No, it could not!” Chan let loose a flurry of high-pitched giggles. “Have you ever seen a kangaroo? Those things are ripped! One kick or punch, and the koala’s out.” He mimed a powerful punch.

You tipped back the remainder of your beer before pointing the bottle at him. “Yes it could! Think about it - what do koalas do?” When he just blinked, you continued. “They climb! And what do koalas usually have?” Again, a blank stare. “Syphilis! So… think about it! All that little guy has to do is climb up the kangaroo, give him some germs, and boom! Kangaroo goes down.” You grin smugly. “There’s a reason they call syphilis the silent killer.” 

Chan fixed you with his signature Look™, the one you think of as “stern dom daddy” - thick eyebrows drawn, bottom lip tucked between his teeth, dark eyes scanning your face - and you felt your knees go weak. Then he blinded you with the full sunshiny force of his smile, eyes closing, dimples popping. 

“That is an absolutely insane argument, not to mention completely incorrect. I don’t even know where to start explaining why you’re wrong.” He paused. “No, actually, let’s start with the fact that it’s chlamydia, not syphilis, that koalas get, and go from there.” By the time he’d finished  and you’d finally conceded that a kangaroo would probably win, the two of you were nearly in tears from laughing.

His duality is whiplash-inducing. And always leaves you in ruins. 

So when your feelings overwhelm you, when you feel like you’re absolutely bursting at the seams with need, you do what you always do. Torture Minho. 

Your bff is used to you venting to him about your crippling inability to make a move. On anyone. Ever. Over the years, he’s weathered dozens of crushes that never went anywhere because while you’re definitely a total treasure, you lack the confidence to make any of your (usually horny) dreams come true. He’s come to expect the endless text messages you send. 

Except that now, “messages” might not be the right word for them. “Unhinged ravings” might be more accurate. 

Ughhhh he’s so damn fine Today he came home from the gym all sweaty and I nearly offered to give him a bath With my tongue. My TONGUE Minho!

Like he’s always done, Minho bears it all in stride with his usual unwavering compassion.

You’re a lunatic

He doesn’t even try to convince you to say something to Chan about your feelings anymore. Now he just waits for you to exhaust yourself and then he changes the subject. Usually by sending photos of his cats. 

It’s an odd friendship, but neither of you would trade it for anything. 

At the moment, you’re ignoring your pain by lying on your bed, in a tee and sweats, watching a movie on your laptop. You can hear your roommate rummaging around his room. Your apartment features a Jack and Jill bathroom, so it’s easy for you to hear what’s going on next door through the adjoining space.

“Channie, why are you pacing around?” you call out. 

Your phone buzzes. 

Trying to find my shirt  

“Are you seriously texting me from the next room?” Pausing your movie, you trudge through the bathroom. The door to Chan’s room is open so you don’t bother to knock, flopping down on his bed as he digs through his closet. He’s shirtless as usual, blond curls shaking with the force of his rummaging.

“Yeah, sorry, ‘m in a hurry and didn’t want to stop looking,” Chan admits sheepishly, throwing a grin over his shoulder at you. You ignore the fluttering in your stomach and get comfortable, resting your head on your arms.

“You could’ve just said it out loud. I can hear you all over this apartment.” It’s not a big space. Which only amplifies your angst, as it’s hard to escape from your desires when the source of it is just constantly right there. Sprawling out on the tiny couch in the living room. Making himself a midnight snack in the kitchen. Lounging on your bed while you sit at your desk, trying not to stare at his reflection on your screen. “What shirt are you looking for?” 

“My tiger tank.” 

You know the shirt he’s speaking of - his white tank top with an embroidered tiger’s head on the chest. It’s a favorite of yours, cut low enough on the sides and in the front to show off his biceps and pecs at the same time. The first time you’d seen Chan in it, Minho had accused you of being a vampire because you couldn’t stop talking about how much you wanted to nibble on his collarbones. 

“Ah! Found it!” Chan raises the shirt over his head victoriously before yanking it on. He takes a moment to inspect himself in his mirror and you wonder if he truly recognizes just how stunning he is. He catches your eye in the reflection. “What are you up to tonight? Wanna come out with me, ‘Lix, & ‘Bin? We’re gonna get some drinks.”

Sure, you’d love to hang out at the bar with Chan and his friends. They’re always a good time. Except when closing time arrives and once again you’re forced to bear witness to your roommate getting hit on by basically every woman in the bar. Not that you can blame them. But it’s especially awful on the nights when he leaves with someone else. You’d rather not deal with that tonight.

“Nah, I’m just gonna relax. But thanks.” 

“Come on,” he wheedles, plopping down on the bed, hard enough to make you bounce a little. “You haven’t been out with us in ages. Is it the guys? Did one of them say something stupid?” 

“They always say stupid shit. That’s all they ever say,” you crack, smiling when Chan laughs. “But no, it’s nothing like that. I’m just tired.” 

Chan doesn’t say anything, just looks at you for a moment. The silence makes you inexplicably nervous, and you fiddle with his comforter for want of something to do with your hands. But then he just nods. “‘Kay. But if you change your mind, we’ll be down at Back Door.” 

“Thanks.” 

Chan heads into the bathroom to play with his hair. You slip past him, back into your room, throwing yourself dramatically onto your bed and burying your face in a plush pillow. How much longer can you stand this? 

You grab your phone. 

I’m losing my mind

You can practically hear the sigh in Minho’s voice as you read his response. 

What did Chan do now?

He’s getting ready to go out with Felix and Changbin He looks so fucking good in those tight jeans

Minho doesn’t reply. He knows to just let you get it out of your system before responding.

My mouth is literally watering It’s a Pavlovian response at this point I see denim and I start salivating

A text alert pops up in the middle of your thirsty ranting. 

Hey do you mind if I borrow your eyeliner?

“Stop texting me when you’re 10 feet away!” you yell, laughing. Chan pops his head out of the bathroom and flashes you that grin, the one that turns your insides to goo, and you sigh. “Of course you can borrow it, you know you can.” 

Thanks

“Chan!” 

His giggles float through the door and your thumbs fly.

Seriously If Chan doesn’t let me s his d one of these days I will die I will be the first person to die from ineedtosuckadick-itis

There’s a loud clattering in the bathroom, like someone’s knocked half the contents of the crowded sink counter onto the floor. Your makeup isn't cheap, so you hop up off your bed. 

“You okay in there?” The first thing you notice is the pile of smashed cosmetics on the ground. The second thing is the way your roommate is staring at you, eyes wide, sharpened kohl liner still clutched in one hand, phone in the other. “What? What’s wrong?” 

Chan doesn’t speak, but raises his phone and kind of waves it limply. 

Oh god. You were in the wrong chat. You were in the wrong chat and now Chan knows you want to suck his dick. You’ve been texting for most of your life and this is the moment your brain decides to fuck up?!

As Chan continues to stare, you realize you have two choices: fess up and own it, or play dumb.

It’s no choice.

“What, uhhhhhhh, what’s up?” 

Chan gestures to his phone. “You want to suck my dick?” He says the words as if they’re unfamiliar to him, like he’s trying them out for the first time. 

Well, shit, how are you supposed to play dumb if he’s just going to call you right out? 

“Guess the cat’s out of the horny bag now,” you mutter under your breath.

Chan cocks his head. “What?”

“Nothing,” you cough, looking at your own phone. “I mean, uh, noooo, what? Minho and I were just, um, talking about how I want to, uh, sssssss…” you glance wildly around the cramped room, hissing like a frantic snake as you fail to come up with another word that starts with s, before your eyes land on an empty glass sitting by the sink. “…Share a drink with you? Because I’m… thirsty?”

“You’re thirsty?”

Fucking understatement.

You can’t quite read the expression on Chan’s face as he glances between you and his phone. There’s a flash of dom daddy in there and then it’s gone. 

“YN. I know what ‘s his d’ means. Also, you said you had - what did you call it? Ineedtosuckadickitis.” You think Chan’s lips quirk slightly as he reminds you of your textual idiocy, but you’re too busy trying to psychically rip a hole in the floor so you can disappear forever to be certain. “Where do you get your medical info, by the way? I’m starting to worry.” 

He’s making light of the situation, which you would appreciate more if you weren’t sure you’re about to die from embarrassment. Your mind is reeling. There’s no way to get out of this. Any second now, he’s gonna realize how you feel. Then he’s gonna let you down. Gently, you hope. Then you’re gonna need to find a new place to live, because there’s no recovering from this.

“Fine.” You take a deep breath. “Yes, I said it.” Unable to look him in the eye, you focus on your phone as you speak. “I was telling Minho how much I want to suck your dick, because I’m a disgusting horny monster who can’t stop thinking about it. I’m sorry. I’m gonna go pack up my room now.” Shoulders slumping, you slink away, hoping he won’t follow. 

He does. “Wait, what?” 

You don’t answer, heading directly for your closet, tugging at your suitcase where it lies on a shelf, and he crowds into your space, arms reaching out to stop you. 

“Oi, slow down! What are you doing?” 

“I’ll try to be out quickly, so you can find a new roommate right away.” You keep pulling on the suitcase, but it’s futile. He barely has to exert any strength to push it back, so you give up. 

“YN.” Chan places his hands on your shoulders, turning you around. It’s probably the closest you’ve ever been, standing face to face like this, and the nearness of him is a little dizzying. “Back up. You don’t have to go anywhere. Just talk to me.” He lightly guides you over to your bed, taking a seat next to you. “Why do you think I’d want you to leave?” 

“Because I'm a gross little gremlin who can’t stop objectifying you?” you answer honestly. 

Chan’s eyes widen before he bursts into laughter. “You know, you’ve said a lot of bonkers things in the months you’ve been living here, but… how does wanting to suck my dick make you a ‘gross little gremlin?’” 

Oh no. You can feel it bubbling up inside you, all the things you’ve felt. All the things you’ve said. Oh, you’re going to tell him, aren’t you? 

“It’s not just sucking your dick.” Grabbing your phone, you open your chat with Minho again, and begin to read. “‘I need Chan to destroy me. Fully. Like I’m a piece of wood and he’s a lumberjack. Just split me in half. With his hands or his dick, I’m not picky.’” Your entire body radiates with humiliation. You’re a tiny sun made of molecules of mortification, on the verge of going supernova. “Um. That’s one example. And there’s more. A lot more.” 

And then you hand him your phone, looking away as he starts to scroll. 

You stare at the wall, not wanting to see the expression on his face. Until the quiet gets to you, and you give in, peering at him, expecting to find him frozen again, or worse, looking sickened by your words. 

Instead you find him smiling. And then he starts to giggle. 

“‘I’m going feral,” he reads. “‘He’s wearing that beanie again. I- ’” His laughing gets louder as he struggles to finish the thought. “‘I want him to wear me instead.’” He glances up at you, eyes glimmering with way too much amusement. “What does that even mean?!”

You groan, yanking your shirt up to cover your face. “Chan, stop!” He merely laughs harder. How can he be enjoying this? You’ve never known him to be cruel. “I get it, I’m awful, you don’t have to laugh!”

But he keeps chuckling, and then you feel his hands on your hips. Like a bewildered turtle, you poke your head out of your shirt, and he just smiles. 

“C’mere.” He keeps tugging at you until you scoot closer, swinging your legs over his lap, and pulls you in for a hug. 

It’s better than you ever imagined. His strong arms lock around your waist, keeping you in place as his chest continues to rumble with his apparently endless mirth. Tentatively, you let your hands rest on his broad shoulders, afraid that if you cling too tightly, he’ll let go. 

Chan leans back to grin at you. “You’re so fucking cute.” 

You’re so fucking confused. “I am?” 

“Yeah.” His fingers rub light circles into your lower back. The sensation is somehow both soothing and invigorating, sending sparks directly to the heat already simmering in your gut. “Just adorable.” 

You’re not adorable, you’re a dirty little freak whose mind is constantly churning out trash, but if that’s what he wants to believe, you’ll take it.  

“You’re not disturbed by all the things I’ve said?” 

“Disturbed? Nah. I’m used to the crazy shit you say.” He’s got a point. You do say a lot of crazy shit. Just not usually about him to him. “Besides, d’you know how long I’ve been waiting for you to say something?” 

“About your dick??”

Chan tosses his head back, jostling you with his laughter. “No, you maniac, just something in general! Something to tell me that you like me.” When he meets your gaze again, you’re met with that Look™, and this time those sparks head straight for your cunt. “That you want me. Because…” 

He trails off, hands gripping your sides, shifting you. Until you feel it. Poking directly into your thigh. 

“Oh!”

“Yeah. Oh.” Chan licks his lips. When did his eyes get so dark? “Because I want you too, you absolute fruit loop. Took me a minute to get my bearings, wasn’t expecting you to confess it in a text like that, or with those exact words, but…” He smirks. “I’m good now.” 

His thumb traces your jawline before he cups your chin. The gentle touch sends shivers rippling through you. His eyes drop to your lips. 

“You good?” 

Funnily enough, somehow, you are. 

“Yeah. I’m good,” you whisper, tipping forward to close the space between you. 

Amazingly, despite the unyielding need to just yeet yourself onto him, you manage to hold back, simply leaning in to the kiss instead. Those plush lips that you’ve raved about feel unbelievable as they caress yours. So soft and tender, like the warmth spreading through you as he tightens his hold. Then he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, and you moan, loud and wanton, unable to control the sound, and he drops his hands to your hips again, gripping insistently. 

“C’mere,” he commands again, voice husky as his fingers hook into your sweats. “Come closer.” He exhales heavily. “Please.” 

Please? He has no idea how little he needs to beg right now. As if you’re not dying to get as close as you can! In the blink of an eye, you throw your leg over his, straddling him. His hands wrap around you again, like he can’t stand not having them on you for a second. You understand the feeling. 

You’re bolder now with your kisses, nipping and licking eagerly. A particularly sharp bite on his pouty lip makes him gasp in surprise, and you press your tongue into his mouth, eyes fluttering shut in sheer ecstasy when he sucks in response. The incessant throbbing of your clit is slightly relieved when Chan’s hips buck upwards, pushing his erection against you more firmly. He swallows your whines, breathes them back out in the form of his own groans.

The need for air eventually overwhelms you after a few minutes, and you begrudgingly tear yourself away from his face. 

“Aren’t you going to be late?” you pant, marveling at how red and swollen Chan’s lips are from kissing. The urge to dive back in before you’ve gotten enough oxygen into your system to keep from passing out is strong. “To meet the guys?”

“You really think I’m gonna leave now?” Chan huffs a laugh as he gazes at you from beneath lowered eyelids, looking as dazed as you feel, and you realize, shit, Minho’s right, you are a vampire, and you’re about to eat this man alive. “Fuck no. Besides, what kind of terrible roommate would I be if I left you at death’s door?” 

“If you - what?” 

More high-pitched giggles fill the room. How can he be so cute while actively grinding his cock against you like this? “Your disease. Remember? Ineedadickitis.” 

“I need to suck a dick,” you correct him.

“Oh, do you? Well, go on then.” He cracks up completely, bouncing you with the force of his laughter as you sit there dumbly for half a second before snapping to. 

“You’re so stupid, oh my god!” With a howl, you push him away. He goes easily, until he’s lying on his back on your bed, still cackling while he swats away your fake punches. “I hate you.” 

“No, you don’t.” His fingers lock around your wrists and with a gentle jerk you’re lying on top of him, your arms pinned between you. Before you can try to pretend that he’s wrong, try to mount yet another one of your dumb arguments, despite knowing full well that he's right, he kisses you again. 

As soon as he releases your hands, you tangle them in his hair. His hands trace down your back to grab the swell of your ass, crushing you flat against him, chest to chest. He suddenly breaks off the kiss.

“Are you not wearing a bra?” 

You shake your head and he groans, sitting up, taking you with him. His fingers curl in the hem of your top, twisting it upwards.

“Shirt off. Now.” His voice drops an octave and you shudder, quickly obeying his order. Then you grip his tank top.

“You too.” 

He reaches behind his head to peel the fabric off, tossing it on the floor. Then he lays back, propping himself up on his elbows as you openly gawk at his stomach. 

“Fuck.” He’s transfixed by your chest. 

“Jesus.” You’re mesmerized. From this close, you can see a faint trail of fine hair that runs down, cutting through the carved lines of his abs, like an arrow pointing to your desired destination. “Unreal.” 

“You can touch, if you’d like,” Chan grins up at you, obviously enjoying your reaction. 

You roll your eyes but do anyway, dragging your fingertips over his abs. His stomach twitches beneath your touch. Before you can get too far, he wiggles his hips, playfully jostling you out of your concentration.

“Can I touch, too?” 

“Jesus, yes, of course!” Grabbing his hands, you place one on each breast. “Touch me already!” 

He doesn’t waste any time, rolling your nipples between his fingers, waking the buds. You arch into him, his abs forgotten as he leans forward to take your left breast in his mouth. 

“Shit, Channie,” you whimper, combing his hair out of his face so you can watch him suckle away. He hums into you, swirling his tongue over your nipple, around and around, before dragging his tongue across to the other breast. 

“You like that, baby?” he asks, covering your chest with kisses. 

Baby? Did he really just call you baby? Is this really happening, or did you slip into one of your daydreams again? 

Nope, the hard dick rolling into the apex of your thighs as you grind down on him feels pretty real. You can’t help but moan, wondering what he looks like under those tight jeans. Is he as thick as you imagine? 

Wait, why are you still trying to imagine anything? He’s literally underneath you right now.

Your hand splays on his torso as you guide him onto his back again. Slowly, you lower yourself over him, and drag your mouth down his neck. Clearly, you’d interrupted his going out routine earlier, because he’s not wearing his normal cologne right now. Instead, the heady scent you inhale as you stick your nose into the hollow of his clavicles is pure Chan, musky and comforting. 

“Ah, that tickles!” he hisses. 

“Sorry.” You press a heavy kiss to his collarbone. “Is that better?” He nods, right before you sink your teeth in.

“Nnngh!” He lets out a throaty groan as you happily suck a love bite into his delicate skin. God, the noises this man makes! You want to record them and play them on a loop. 

You slip further down, dragging your fingernails over one of Chan’s nipples, watching his face for his reaction. A tiny “oh!” escapes him, and you repeat the motion, grinning when his back lifts off the bed. Sensitive. This is going to be fun. 

Chan raises his head when you start to kiss his abs, taking the time to lick along the ridges as you go, the salty tang of his sweat lingering on your lips. When your hands play with the skin above his waistband, he clears his throat. “You know, you don’t have to do this, just because of that text.” 

“Are you kidding me?” You pause with your fingers on the button of his fly. “You want me to stop now?” 

“I just don’t want you to think I expect anything.” Although his voice is a little shaky, like he’s trying to calm himself down, you hear the sincerity in his words. The sweetness. That warmth inside you roars into a flame. 

“Channie. I want this. Do you want this?” 

He nods. “Yeah.”

“Thank god,” you sigh, unzipping his fly.  He helps you peel off his tight jeans and you make quick work of his silk boxers beneath. Nudging his legs apart, you kneel between them 

For a moment just you stare at the sight in front of you. You were right. He’s thick. Maybe a little longer than most of the dicks you’ve been happy to be acquainted with, maybe not, but definitely thicker. 

You want to sit on him so bad. But first you want to please him, want to taste him. So much want. 

While you’re dicknotized, Chan stuffs your pillows under his head so he can have a better angle. You glance at his face and find him biting his lip, eyes looking a little desperate. He doesn’t say anything, just watches you. 

Might as well put him out of his misery. With a lick of your palm, you wrap your hand around him, and pump a few shallow strokes. He grunts at the sudden slickness, abdomen jumping slightly. 

“Ah, baby, just like that,” he says, eyes closing when you roll your thumb over the tip a few times. “Shit.” 

Your tongue darts out to follow, dipping around the head and back over, before you take it into your mouth. Just the tip, bobbing off, then a little more, then again. Each time you sink lower, he sighs. 

“Fuck, that feels so good. Keep going, take it all in.” 

Oh god, is he a talker? You’re already impossibly wet. You can’t possibly handle getting any more aroused. 

While your mouth is occupied, you lift your leg so you’re straddling one of Chan’s, resting a palm on his big thigh. You have obsessed over his thighs since the day you moved in. You refer to them as “the thunder from down under” in your texts to Minho. And here they are now, so strong and sturdy beneath you. Wild. 

Chan hisses when you deepthroat him, brushing your nose against his pelvis. Even though you pride yourself on your dick-sucking skills, you can’t help but choke slightly. More saliva floods into your mouth, and you swallow around him. 

“Oh, shit!” His hips rise up a little. You use both hands, one trying to hold him down by his hip while the other strokes in tandem with your mouth. There’s drool everywhere, and the sounds the wetness makes sounds lewd even for porn. “Baby, this mouth of yours! Feels better than I ever imagined.”

Air rushes into your lungs as you pull off, replacing your mouth with your other hand. “You thought about this?” He fantasized about you, too?

“Oh fuck yeah,” he growls. “All the time. Thought those pretty lips would look so good choking on me, and I was right.” He thrusts a little, rocking his dick up into your slippery grip. “Used to dream about fucking it.”

You moan so brokenly, he looks at you in concern. 

“Please,” you lick his darkened head almost frantically, “do it.” 

Chan studies you for a moment, brows knitting together, before he pushes your head down. 

“That’s it, go down for me,” he directs you, and you listen. “Just stay there. Let me do the work now.” 

He starts slowly, tilting his pelvis a little, fucking up into your waiting mouth. Then he cants his hips a little faster. His breathing gets heavier the harder he thrusts. Once he finds a steady rhythm, he lays his hand on the back of your head keeping you exactly where he wants you. 

You squirm restlessly as Chan fucks your throat. Having your roommate use your mouth as a sex toy is incredibly hot. Finally, you slide your hand into your sweats to give yourself some relief. Your clit is engorged, practically beating like a heart between your fingers. You let out a pleased moan, vibrating down Chan’s cock. 

“Do that again, baby.” 

You’re not denying this man anything. Again and again, you make him curse as your hums resonate across his sensitive skin. He trembles a little, and it’s intoxicating to think that you might be breaking down this big, strong roommate of yours, reducing him to a quivering mess.

At the very least, it’s something to aim for. 

Chan praises you again. “God damn it, that’s good. Gonna make me cum with that pretty mouth.” 

You suck and swallow and moan and rub yourself, feeling Chan’s thigh flex beneath you, and it hits you what he said, that you’re about to get Chan off, you, so you reach out, raking your hand up the inside of his thigh until you find his balls, squeezing gently.

“I’m gonna cum, shit, ’m gonna cum,” he moans, words slurring together. “Where, baby?” 

You stop touching yourself so you can grip the hand of his that rests on your head. He gets the point, pace not slowing, and with a few more powerful pumps, and some stuttered exhalations, he fills your mouth. You take it all, swallowing noisily and gasping for breath once he pulls out. 

“Fuckin’ hell.” 

He laughs as he says it. Your shoulders shake as you half-laugh, half-wheeze, slumping over on Chan’s thigh.

“Is that a compliment?”

“Fuck yeah,” he grins. “And I’m guessing from the sounds you were making, you enjoyed that as well? Just maybe not quite as much as me?”

You shrug. “I got what I wanted.”  

“Yeah, okay, maybe, but I bet you’d like more, hmm?” Without waiting for a response, he swiftly flips you onto your back. Just hauls you right over like you’re made of feathers. A rash of ridiculously giddy giggles burst past your lips, but they die away when he crawls up your body, the power of his gaze pinning you in place, and drops hungry lips onto yours.

Immediately, you surge up into him, pressing as close as you can. Both of you are glistening with sweat, his hair sticking to his face and yours as he licks into your mouth, hot and wet. You’re drowning in him. It’s everything you ever wanted. How the fuck can you possibly want more? But you do, and this feeling makes itself known as you start to whimper needily.

Chan’s hand quickly locates your breast, tenderly cupping your flesh. “Have I told you how fucking gorgeous you are? So pretty.”

You preen at his words, humming contentedly. Fuck. Do you have a praise kink, or is it just that Chan’s the one saying these words that is getting you more worked up? You roll your hips, seeking friction, and Chan’s hand slides downward until he reaches where you need him.

“Oh, baby, so wet,” he says, voice hushed, almost reverent. “Just dying to be touched, yeah? Let me help you.”

With sure movements, lithe fingers stroke along your lips, opening you up. Fingertips squeeze your clit, playing with the aching pearl, causing you to squeal, and you could die, having made such a sound, except you’ve clearly already died and gone to heaven.

Even as his hand rubs, his lips never leave yours. You thrash in his grip when he slides a finger inside you, finding your g-spot with surprising quickness and pressing the fuck out of it, and he still chases your mouth, covering your chin in kisses. Your legs kick out as he alternates between fondling your clit and stroking your walls, until he suddenly stops, pulling his fingers out so he can rid you of your sweats. 

“You still with me?” he asks, kneeling between your legs, and you wonder if you look as wrecked as you feel, sucking in air like a fish. You must be a mess, if your appearance matches how you feel. But you’re also excruciatingly aroused and frustrated, so close to coming that you’re ready to blow.

“Yes. I’m here, I’m good.” 

“Good.” The Look™️ is back. He grabs your legs and bends them, pushing your thighs into your torso. “Here. Be a good girl and hold these.”

Yes, daddy. You bite your tongue to keep from screaming the words, and grasp your legs behind your knees, pulling them to the side as much as you can, opening you up wide.

“Yes, Channie.”

He smiles at that, eyes so dark you can almost see yourself. “So good for me. Hold tight, baby.” 

He sticks out his tongue, eyebrows cocking as he dives down, tracing your folds lightly before flattening the pink muscle and dragging it heavily upwards. You keen as his hot mouth suctions onto your clit. He rolls your clit around with his tongue before flicking it in a quick motion, over and over. 

“Jesus!” You’re a live wire, muscles jolting and twitching. As he continues working over the tiny bundle of nerves, his fingers slip inside you again, two this time, scissoring you apart, making room for his tongue. 

You gasp as he plunges inside, tracing your inner walls. He’s so loud, the noises his mouth makes as he sucks and laps, and messy, too, slick dripping from his chin when he lifts his face, making sure you’re watching him. Of fucking course you’re watching him. There’s literally nothing else in the world you’d rather be looking at right now than Bang Chan, the hottest man in the galaxy, devouring your pussy like it’s his last meal. 

“Tastes so good,” he rasps, turning his face to press sloppy kisses to your inner thigh. “Think you can hold out a little longer? Let me enjoy, yeah?” 

At this point, you’re a fucking tinderbox, one spark and you’ll explode, but sure, why not let the man enjoy himself a little more? 

“O-okay,” you stutter weakly. “I’ll… try.” You bite your lip. “But maybe…” 

Chan brushes his lips over your slit. With a shaky hand, you let your left leg go so you can reach out, brushing some damp locks off his forehead, and he looks at you. 

“Maybe a little slower?” you ask. 

He smiles, nodding a little. “Got ya.” 

Instead of pulling your hand back, you thread your fingers into his hair, and he hums, burying his face again. Only now, his tongue rolls slowly over your cunt, languidly, each pass taking longer and longer. He still keeps the pressure up, makes sure he’s pushing just as firmly against your sensitive folds, still fucks his tongue into you just as deeply as he was before, but now his movements aren’t so frenzied. They feel purposeful, like he’s intent on savoring the moment. 

And you realize you should, too. So you barely blink as you observe everything he does - every kiss, every groan, every time his eyes close. You try to commit it all to memory, so you can relive this moment over and over again. In case this is it.

Chan keeps humming, not so much a melody as just wordless sounds, getting louder when your thighs start to squeeze a little. Your hand grips the roots of his hair, not so much guiding him as hanging on. Until he takes your clit in his mouth again, and you cry out, holding him in place. 

“Right there, Channie, please!” Your voice breaks as you beg him not to stop. He doesn’t let up, not even when you release your death grip on your right leg, letting it fall over his shoulder like the other one. You dig your fingers into the blanket beneath you, fisting the material. “Fuck, just like that!” 

Your hips rise off the bed as you start to hump his face, grinding harder and harder. Chan slides his fingers back into your already clenching hole and finds your g-spot again. You wail helplessly, mind already going, body not far behind, as your muscles start to contract, everything tightening - 

“Fuuuuck!” 

With a loud groan, you come all over Chan’s face. He keeps tonguing your clit through your orgasm, but has to use his hands to hold your thighs open so he doesn’t asphyxiate. You tug at his hair, riding out the waves of bliss on his mouth. 

When you finally relinquish your grasp on his head, he stops. He slides your legs from his arms, then sits back on his heels to examine his handiwork.

You’re a limp noodle. No bones. No muscles. Couldn’t move if you tried. Your climax completely wiped you out, leaving nothing behind. But you’re a very happy noodle, practically purring as you smile at the ceiling. 

Chan, on the other hand. Chan appears to be ready for the next round. A point made obvious by the massive erection he’s again sporting. You blink at him a few times. 

“I’m going to need a minute.”

He laughs, draping himself over you, arm slung over your stomach, head on your shoulder. “Nah mate, you’re done.” 

A rather petulant whine bubbles up from deep within you. “Nooo, I’m good, I’m good!” 

You try to reach for his dick, but he catches your hand, lacing his fingers through yours. Which is a surprisingly sweet move, but not what you want right now. It’s not that you don’t want to cuddle with him - if he asked, you’d wrap yourself like a blanket around him and snuggle him for hours.

It’s that you’re not ready for this moment to be over. 

“Relax,” he laughs. “Plenty of time for that later. Just rest for a bit.” 

“Later?" There’s gonna be a later?

Chan kisses your neck lightly. “Yeah, later. Not done with you yet, baby.” 

You sigh, bringing a hand up to stroke his back. Okay. Maybe a little nap is fine. If there’s going to be a later. 

Fuck, you can’t wait to text Minho. 

Masterlist 💜 Find me on AO3 💜 

© 2023 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost.

I don't feel right tagging my usual tl since that was for my BTS writing, so I'm just gonna tag some moots that I think might like this:

@moni-logues @yoongimingyu @borahae-k @nabiolive @jikooknoona @sowoozoo-7 @eoieopda @here4btsfics @candlewaxandp0lar0ids @ballelino @starlostjimin @augustbutwinter @blueversaillesdreams @hobivore @hobi-gif @seokjinger-ale @hannahbee12719 feel free to tell me if I'm way off base, no pressure to actually read! 💕

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Glynis Johns (Mary Poppins, The Court Jester)—LISTEN, I'd let that woman's voice with all its gravely hoarseness (positive) wash over me all goddamn day, but if that's not enough she managed to play the straight woman to Danny Kaye's jester, all with her cleavage so plunging it might as well have been catapulted into the ocean right after Basil Rathbone

Eartha Kitt (Anna Lucasta, St. Louis Blues)—My friend and I have a saying: NOBODY is Eartha Kitt. A thousand have tried, and they've all come up empty and will continue to do so. Everyone knows her for something: from "Santa Baby" to Yzma in Emperor's New Groove to Catwoman to making Lady Bird Johnson cry for the Vietnam War. She was a master of comedy and sex, an extremely vocal activist, and she aged like fine wine... I honestly don't know what I can say about her that hasn't already been said, so I'll stick to linking all my propaganda. Like what else do you want from me. She was iconic at everything she ever did. Literally name another. How can anyone even think of her and not want to absolutely drown?

This is round 4 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Glynis Johns:

She walks the line between sexy and cute. Her best role for me is in "The Court Jester as Maid Jean. She's fantastic as the soft but tough captain of the outlaw band and she looks stunning in every gown she wears throughout the film. And of course we can't forget her iconic turn as the suffragette mother, Mrs. Banks, in Mary Poppins! Also shoutout to her distinctive and beautiful voice, kind of smoky and husky. Extremely hot and set her apart from many of her peers."

"She was amazing in Mary Poppins (the Suffragette song is severely underrated) and apparently she was Welsh? National pride! And she advocated for arts funding in Wales, which is very cool. Also, she died recently (RIP) making her one of the last survivors of the Golden Age of Hollywood, according to Wikipedia. Also also, she just has a cheeky energy I like? And her eyes are beautiful!"

"She had this wonderful wit and charm to her no matter the role and the most distinctive, striking voice!"

"I mean, incredibly beautiful and talented, can do drama can do comedy. And she was a mermaid."

"Like Bette Davis she has eyes to die for. Unlike Bette Davis you felt comforted by them, even when she was batting her eyelashes at you. Would glady go to Downing Street with her and throw things at the Prime minister"

"Listen, listen. I was raised on Mary Poppins and "Votes for women! (step in time)" single-handedly taught me how to be a feminist. Also The Court Jester is one of my favourite movies of all time and she is UNBELIEVABLY gorgeous, charismatic, funny, and clever in it. She knocks several men out. Absolute icon."

"I love Glynis Johns. Most of the reason is The Court Jester where she's a sensible and capable foil to whatever what going on with Danny Kaye at the time. She was also the first star I based an OC on. An OC that I still have to this day! Anyway here have some YouTube links love u bye"

Mermaid clip:

Court Jester (sharing a bed trope):

Court Jester (seducing the king):

"VOTES FOR WOMEN! Well, votes for this woman. Please."

Eartha Kitt:

"A hot vintage woman who was not just known for her voice, beauty, poise, and presence, but also her unapologetic ways of speaking about how she was mistreated in the show business as a girl who grew up on cotton fields in South Carolina in the 1930s through the 1940s coming to Broadway first and then Hollywood."

"Have you watched her sing?? Have you seen her face?? Have you heard her talk?? How could you not fall instantly in love. She makes me incoherent with how hot she is."

"She can ACT she can SING she can speak FOUR LANGUAGES she is a GODDESS!!! Although she is (rightfully) remembered for her singing, TV appearances (Catwoman my beloved), and later film roles, her early appearances in film are no less impressive or noteworthy!! She’s an amazing actress with so much charisma in every role. She was also blacklisted from Hollywood for 10 years for criticizing the Johnson administration/Vietnam War, so. Iconic. Also Orson Welles apparently called her “the most exciting woman in the world.”

"She had such a stunning, remarkable appearance, like she could tear you to shreds with just a glance- but the most undeniable part of her hotness was her voice, and it makes sense that it's what most people nowadays know her for. Nothing encapsulates the sheer magnetism of her singing better than this clip of her and Nat King Cole in St. Louis Blues, she pops in at 2:49. Also I know it's post-1970 but her song that was cut from Emperor's New Groove is likely to make you feel Feelings."

Even with as racist as Hollywood was in the 1950s and 60s, Eartha Kitt STILL managed to have a thriving career. She also once had a threesome with Paul Newman and James Dean, and called out LBJ over the Vietnam War so hard that it made First Lady Johnson cry. Eartha Kitt was talented, sexy, and a total badass activist.

[wowthosearebigears]

I’m having Big Feelings about young elves in the First Age and I’m gonna make it everyone’s problem.

We all know the War of the Jewels was a cascade of brutality, destruction, and tragedy. The First Age was so dark it honestly makes Game of Thrones look like an episode of Teletubbies. And the thing that really gets me about the sheer magnitude of its death and violence is that it forced incredibly young elves to shoulder the fate of Arda.

So many older, wiser elves were killed. Huge swathes of generations of the Eldar were wiped out: Finrod, Turgon, Fingon, Fingolfin, Orodreth, Finduilas, Thingol, Dior, Nimloth, Ecthelion, Luthien, Glorfindel. And so it fell to the youngest of the elves to lead the resistance against Morgoth, specifically Gil Galad, Eärendil, and Elwing.

Elves come to maturity slowly, in proportion to their long lives. By some sources, they aren’t considered fully mature until they’re around a century old. But Gil Galad was only 55 when Turgon died and he received the High Kingship of the Noldor. It should have passed to someone else. It would have… if all the other heirs weren’t dead. At such a young age, recently orphaned after a childhood as a refugee, he had to lead the Noldor through the War of Wrath.

Eärendil and Elwing were only 39 when they absconded with a Silmaril and sailed to Valinor to beg the Valar for an army. They were newlyweds by elven standards, had very young twins (Elrond and Elros), and sailed West knowing the penalty for a mortal setting foot in Aman was death. But they didn’t have a choice. Mustering the Valar was the only thing that would save Middle Earth from Morgoth.

They were basically teenagers taking the lead in fighting an apocalyptic war. And they WON. But the cost was incredible—Beleriand was shattered and sank into the sea, unbelievable magnitudes of elves and men died in battle, Eärendil and Elwing were separated forever from their sons, Gil Galad probably ended up with elvish PTSD and spent the rest of his life shouldering the High Kingship (people complain about him having resting bitch face and being kind of a stern dick in TROP, and I just want to scream “Do you know what he’s been through???”).

It just gets me that the fate of the Eldar in the First Age was decided by adolescents who never even saw the light of the Trees.

[eggyboyoart]

NU: carnival harem and if they would/would not fuck their clone

[RATED +18]

EIDEN;

yes. he is unbelievably pro clone-fucking. he canonically fucks his clone (SSR Salacious King). While I haven't got Salacious King and idk what the intimacy rooms are; I know for a fact that Eiden (both of them) are having the time of their kinky little lives.

I imagine that they’re both teasing and confident, manoeuvring around each other with expert ease. Since eiden himself is incredibly versatile already, its not hard for them to fall into a sexy rhythm...

Eiden is also pro clansmembers-fucking-his-own-clone-in-front-of-him and pro clones-fucking-the-clansmembers (my boy is versatile).

ASTER;

Aster is pro clone-fucking in the way that both him and his clone are ganging up on Eiden or Morvay. Imagine with me; one Aster behind Eiden, nibbling on his neck and the other in the front - torturing him with some toys. Thats Aster, baby.

They end up with their focus split, torn between watching their partner fall apart beneath them and sneaking glances toward his clone while hes not looking – secretly checking himself out.

Eiden ends up covered in bites and passed out from exhaustion at the end :))

MORVAY;

YES YES YES YES YES YES

THEY GET SO FREAKY. mmm incubus x incubus.. it starts off a little hesitant, with both of them wondering if they could feed off each other’s ‘essence’ and soon after - like Aster, they both ALSO end up ganging up on Eiden – damn near fist-fighting each other to get to Eiden’s ‘prize jewels’.

Eiden ends up ABSOLUTELY exhausted at the end. Its like that meme with the shriveled up man next to other person sleeping.

this isn't the exact meme, but its the same vibe.

YAKUMO;

ohh.. sweet baby yakumo..

hes so hesitant, he most likely got the idea from Eiden asking both Yakumos to double-team him. Yakumo usually struggles with 'possessive' snake instincts and weirdly enough, its the same with his own clone (despite the fact they're the same person lol).

however.. a little after Yakumo x Eiden x Yakumo's Clone.. both yakumos sneak off into the night for some 'private exploration'.. neither of them speak of it out of pure embarrassment, but the suspiciously snake-shaped bite marks on each other’s neck do not go unnoticed..

EDMOND;

hes offended that you would even suggest such a thing. he is a righteous man of noble intentions, he would never even think of such perverted acts- get your mind out of the gutter, you scoundrel-!

while edmond doesn't necessarily feel attracted to himself sexually, neither of the vice-captains can resist sneaking a little peak around the back.. but overall, nothing beyond some subtle glances.

eiden tries to convince them both for some 'regulation' but he doesn't get very far when two blushing swordsmen put their blades up to his throat.. (better luck next time, big man)

OLIVINE;

... :3

this busty priest has probably never really thought about his own attractiveness too much but... is his chest really that voluptuous?

honestly? olivine is probably the one to bring this up to eiden. both priests approach the grand sorcerer quietly in the evening, mumbling about 'essence regulation'.. thats really just an excuse though. hes both insanely embarrassed and intensely aroused at his own sounds and squirming body ('does he really sound like that?').

eiden also has a good time when he gets to see two busty priests pressed up against each other and making out (LUCKY BITCH)

QUINCY;

ahh yes, our resident bear..

i don't believe he would be particularly interested in fucking his own clone, unfortunately. I just don’t think that he is his own type.. but, with a low mumble of 'troublesome..', he could be convinced/teased into tag-teaming eiden or a certain cheeky fox..

in this situation, i imagine one quincy leant back against the headboard, eiden/kuya on top of him and the other quincy behind eiden/kuya with double penetration orr.. both quincys spitroasting eiden/kuya :))

either way, the clones are less focused on each other and more focused on their partner.

KUYA;

soo, the myth, the man, the legend - our local mischievous fox yokai..

i believe this would start off relatively simply, with both kuyas ganging up/sexually torturing eiden in possessive competition. similarly to yakumo, his jealous instincts are not curbed when faced with his own clone and they both spend the whole time exchanging quips and witty remarks while just plowing eiden.

but after.. i believe both kuyas sneak off to 'hate-fuck' essentially. its bitter, aggressive and honestly violent with how rough they get with each other and in the end.. i don't think there is a winner here.

GARU;

okay.. desperate bottom x desperate bottom AHH-

its wild how they go at each other.. honestly, eiden probably walks in on them frotting – the room thick with the scent of sweat and slick and a sight so erotic that eiden is mystically compelled to join (honestly bro? me too).

honestly, if i can get a little 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂.. its wet. they're both drooling, from their mouth and.. down there.. and honestly, eiden is too. and if both wolf yokai desperately cling to their master, whining so sweetly.. who is he to deny them?

KARU;

honestly? I do believe that within karu is a man capable of being on top. It takes a lot, some self-given pep-talk and enough teasing – I do genuinely believe karu would be able to successfully dominate someone, though in more of a ‘whimpery top’ kind of style..

that’s sort of what happens when eiden tries to get under both karu’s skin, sliding up to them with his usual audacity. Eventually, both karus come to a mutual agreement that there is strength in numbers and agree to take the grand sorcerer down.

It ends in a similar position as quincy’s – spitroasting eiden though with a lot more whimpering and drooling from all parties involved.

BLADE;

My other, beautiful pookie..

This story starts with some good old fashioned exploration. At first, its purely curiosity – poking and prodding at each other with eager fingers and excitable eyes. But once one of them press on a particularly sensitive spot, its all over for them. Once one of the e-droids gets the idea, the other is all too eager to delve right into the good stuff.

Eiden probably walks in on them right in the middle of the act – the two tangled up and sweaty, and they’re more than happy to extend a hand to their darling~

DANTE;

The identical Sun Lords are appalled at the very idea. They are not interested in each other like that, at all – and truthfully, they end up barely getting along due to both of their stubborn natures.

Though, the one thing they can agree on is that eiden needs to be taken down a peg. This probably ends up as a mixture of Quincy and Kuya’s scenarios – with both Sun Lord’s less focused on each other but more so on tormenting the frustrating ‘grand sorcerer’.

Spitroasting is probably the way to go here, with eiden’s mouth being put to ‘better uses’.. it looks like they’re finally getting along :))

REI;

(I don’t know much about rei so forgive me lol)

Fascinating.. they spend a majority of the time researching each other, jotting down notes and findings as they debate and theorise. Eventually (to no ones surprise), this research ends up becoming ‘research’ – if you know what I mean, wink wink, nudge nudge..

Interestingly enough, I don’t see eiden being involved at all here, nor do I see either of them topping the other.. I think its mostly ‘experiments’ that rei more-so wanted to perform on himself, that has now been made easier using his body double.

Either way, with both intelligent minds - their time researching has actually proven to be rather productive, which leads rei to seriously consider finding a way to regularly clone himself..

[quatregats]

There’s been a lot of (very excellent!) discussion recently about Brigid and Stephen and how much she’s loved, and I feel like that’s a very good segue into a topic which I’ve been musing over for a while: namely, Patrick O’Brian’s treatment of love in general. Because honestly I feel like one of the things that’s most captivated me about the Aubreyad in general is the sheer amount of love it contains, the vast majority of which is (canonically, at least) non-romantic, and I think that the further I get into the series, the more that strikes me.

Like honestly I cannot even begin to explain how incredibly good POB is at portraying loving relationships, whether they’re friendships, marriages, or parents and children (/surrogate parent and child, as the case may be). I’m actually genuinely not sure if I’ve ever read something like it. I think that a lot of media really struggles with platonic relationships, which is a question that probably deserves a 400-page thesis about it and that I’m not really qualified to answer, but the Aubreyad somehow manages to create relationships that are all so imbued with love that it genuinely does not matter whether or not the people in them are in love or not. While I’m certainly here for reading Stephen and Jack as a romantic relationship, there’s a certain point where I actually don’t care whether or not they’re friends or lovers, because the complexities of what they feel for each other and what they mean in each other’s lives is just as deep either way. And all the relationships in the book are like that: Bonden and the Surprises looking after Stephen, Jack with Mowett and Pullings, Stephen and Sophie, and on and on into infinity.

I think the thing that makes me the most insane about this is that these relationships all feel so unbelievably, viscerally real. The love that’s stored there is the same sort of love that I feel for the people in my own life, with all the inevitable disagreements and exasperation and imperfection that it comes with. I think it’s incredibly difficult to capture that exact feeling in writing, and yet somehow he’s managed to do it. There’s been so much talk about the way in which people in our day and age and media in general struggle to talk about friendship and platonic relationships as meaningful, and I’m not saying that just any writer could go out and weave a tapestry so complex as the Aubreyad does, but reading these books is like a balm for that. There’s something so reassuring in knowing that a romantic relationship is not the be-all-end-all for any of the characters in these books, no matter how you look at it. Each of them is surrounded by a web of people who are deeply implicated in their existence and who truly care what happens to them.

I think fiction, by its nature of needing to bring characters in to serve a role in a linear plot, doesn’t often leave room for love of this kind, and I don't want to be critical of that, because not all narratives can be like the one Patrick O'Brian's written (which is 100% okay—it should be that way, that's how narratives work!). But there’s something so healing about reading a story in which all of the characters are so deeply loved. It’s like a mirror; looking into it, you can see your own relationships, and by extension, just how loved you are, even if most of the time you don’t realize it. Humans are not lonely creatures, and no one captures that better than Patrick O’Brian.

[simpinberry]

for my mental health i need hcs of bella ramsey x fem or gn reader with words of affirmation love language ‼️‼️

hi guys i’m back to feed you some more bella content ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ hope i did this right and that u guys like it :) also tysm for the requests

listen listen!!! after taking a shower she would 100% leave sweet compliments on the foggy mirror for u to read. will add ‘kiss your s/o’ to your to do lists.

will text/send photos of random things that reminds you of her throughout the day. she does this especially when she’s on set and you guys can’t talk much. they have your favorite snack there? sends u a photo and tells u theyre thinking of u. lots of i miss yous, love yous and that she can’t wait to be home to see u again. “text me abt what you get up to today babe” “pedro is making fun of me because i’m apparently such a simp for you, he is absolutely, in every way, correct ;).” “i saw a butterfly today n it reminded me of the pretty tattoo you have”

will watch u like the weirdo she is when you’re getting ready in the morning. sneaks up behind u and repeatedly attacks ur face with kisses. “i have the most beautiful gf in the world” “omg i love this purple eyeliner on you, it rlly suits you” “your curls look really defined today, the new conditioner you got is so good!! my beautiful bby”

is the type to whisper compliments in between kisses. yk like corny spelling out of i love you in between pecks? yep, does that. “i really really like you” “my darling” “mine” “you’re so cute” in between kisses hehehe.

spam texts you when you send/post a photo. in your dms/comment section screechingggg!! my mans is DOWN BADDD. needs and loves to comment “first” on ur posts. they actually make up most of ur comment section. “BABE IM DYING YOURE TOO BEAUTIFUL” “so glad we’ve advanced technology so i can stare at this photo 4life if i want to” “you+this dress= my death”

randomly tweets a photo of you, captioning it “this is my darling, be jealous, gn”

very validating when you’re upset and talks you through it. thanks you for speaking up and communicating abt anything that’s been bothering you. SPILLS THE TEA WITH YOUUU. you have a co worker you hate? she hates them too. listen to me when i say she is on ur side, she is shocked and they’ll even remember stuff you’ve previously told them to add to the fire. best bf frr “thank you for telling me babe, i’ll really keep it in mind next time, i’m so sorry for hurting your feelings like that” “it sounds like it’s been difficult for you to complete (insert task) you’ve been working through it so well :)” “he said what??? yeah like he’s one to talk, go go! continue tell me more i’m invested” “babe you’re honestly so right, this is why i always listen to u”

definitely acknowledges you so so much when you accomplish something. will go on about how proud they are of you, how well you’ve done and how wonderful it is. big or small, bellas on her way to pour her heart out to you. would be unbelievably encouraging throughout the process too, telling you to keep going and trust the progress. “you’ve got this babe, go on :))” “that drawing is absolutely amazing, you’re so talented omg look at the details” “you submitted your assignment?? ahead of time?? that’s my girl frr” “these cookies are amazing, thank u sm for baking them ughh give me a hug you’re the best baker ever, they’re so soft!!”

you guys will be facetiming one night when shes away in a different country for filming. she’s been gone two months and you really miss them. you get a bit emotional talking abt it and they really listen, telling you to let it out. just before you guys hang up they tell you to look at the last drawer of your jewellery box. turns out she wrote you a letter before she left, many letters in fact, for when you really miss them. you can’t help but sob reading it. she attached a polaroid photo of you guys kissing at bottom of the page. she’s so incredibly kind in the letter, telling you how wonderful its been getting to know you these past few months. "hehe youre probably crying from how nice im being" istg this mf even teases you in writing. when you're finished you call her back, they immediately burst out laughing at your blood shot eyes, “hahahhs i knew you’d cry”. sneaks in a ‘you look so pretty even when you cry’. tells you they have more hidden around your room and that when you need it she’ll tell you where you can find more ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ

goodnight!! if i made any mistakes, no i didn’t. byebye!!

[faerieyuri]

prompt (very specific prompt too but if you think of an offshoot of it GO FOR IT): maybe for some reason phoenix has to put on a steel samurai costume (for a case?? for halloween?? because maya is bugging him?? YOU decide!) and miles, who has been pining already, has a brain.exe crash. in a "i need to kiss him now" way. but also if this doesnt call to u its fine to skip lmao

HELLO here is a slight offshoot!

-

“Edgeworth, help me get these fangs on.”

The call came from inside the cramped bathroom of Wright Anything Agency. Edgeworth, who’d been sitting around for the past twenty minutes, groaned into his elbow.

“Don’t you have a mirror in there?”

“Yeah, well, it’s warped and I can’t really see.”

“I can’t see how it could possibly be that bad,” he scoffed. Still, he smoothed out his witch robes and shuffled into the cramped bathroom to stand behind his friend.

Edgeworth was speechless for a moment, gaping at their funhouse reflections in the rusting mirror. “Incredible. It’s like a piece of aluminum foil.”

“I told you!” Phoenix huffed. “We can’t afford another one, so we’ve been making do.”

Is that why his tie is crooked in court sometimes?

“Fine. Turn around and I’ll help.”

The bathroom was so small that Phoenix seemed to rotate on an axis more than turn around. When he faced Edgeworth, they were…..close. Unbelievably close.

Clad in Edgeworth’s jabot and a silk shirt with a velvet cape, Wright looked incredible. Tighter- than-usual pants and lace-up boots accentuated his muscular legs. The scent of his cedarwood cologne was tantalizing, alluring—

“Something wrong?” Phoenix tilted his head to the side.

“No, n-nothing. Give me the teeth,” he ordered, a little too loudly.

As Edgeworth applied the glue to the fake fangs, his heart pounded. Had he really never noticed how attractive his friend was? And even worse, now he had to touch Wright’s…

“Open your mouth.” He blanched. “Umm. Please.”

“Okey doke.” Wright opened his mouth like he was at the dentist, and exhaled his warm breath onto Edgeworth’s hands.

On the way to put the first fang in, Edgeworth’s fingers brushed against his friend’s lips, which were surprisingly firm. Stop thinking about it. Really, his teeth were so pearly white, his tongue so luscious and silky-looking. Stop thinking about it. When he made eye contact with Edgeworth waiting for the glue to dry, his lips twitched upward into a dimpled grin that was really quite cute. Stop thinking about it. And honestly, the vampire look quite suited him, and Edgeworth really wouldn’t mind the idea of Wright sinking those fangs into his neck, stop thinking about it!—

Before Edgeworth knew it, his lips were on Wright’s. His friend gave a surprised squeak before leaning into the kiss, one awkward fang brushing against Edgeworth’s bottom lip. Their hands found each other’s bodies and drew the other closer, closer, closer.

They were going to be late for that Halloween party, if they went at all.

[umlewis]

lewis hamilton, p1, is interviewed during the post-race press conference [part 1/3], britain - july 7, 2024 (transcript under the cut)

Interviewer: "Lewis, a very warm welcome to the top three press conference. It's been a while since we've had you sat in that middle seat, and what a place to do it, at Silverstone. What made this one so special for you?" Lewis: "I think ultimately because it's been such a long time. It's been nine-hundred and… Someone just told me 946 days or something like that since the last win. And really challenging; a difficult time, obviously, 2021, and then coming back in with a car that we've not been able to fight with for the last couple of years. I think just it's been incredibly mentally challenging, I think for everyone in the team, but I think just knowing how hard everyone's continued to work, knowing how I've managed just to keep my head in it. And then with everything that's happened this year, as well, with so many emotions this year; obviously announcing that I'm leaving, and at the same time starting with a car that we didn't feel that we could win with, to then finally be in a place where we win, and not only that, but at the British Grand Prix in front of our home crow. Honestly, it's the most incredible honor to be standing on the top of the podium and hearing the national anthem with the king's name in it, for example. It's the first time I've had that, so… Yeah. And then also my family's here." Interviewer: "And could you hear the roar of the crowd in those closing laps?" Lewis: "I mean, the car's so loud, so hard to hear, but I could see it and I really could feel it. When you go through turn seven… It's a long, long corner, and you see the guys on the left, or through the last couple of corners, you can also see this incredible crowd, or into turn fifteen. It's really, really an unbelievable feeling to be on that track. This is the best track for me, personally. I think this is the best track in the world. But it's the fans, also, the whole place. The wind direction that you have going into Stowe… That corner is incredible." Interviewer: "Now, the changeable conditions made this an extremely demanding race for everyone. When was the car at its best for you?" Lewis: "I think, I mean, probably at the end, naturally. I think at the end. I think the first stint I was a little bit under-winged at the front so I was under-steering, I think, but I was just managing, trying to make sure that… Because you didn't know how long he had to go.

I was actually planning to go to a long way. I was supposed to go a lot longer than George. He had a really great pace and he was trying, obviously, to break the tow, so I was trying to make sure that I stayed within 1.6 or two seconds. And then I knew that I could see the rain was coming, and when that rain came I knew that was the moment to pounce. And then we both went off and the McLarens came by. I couldn't believe it. I couldn't understand how they were able to generate so much heat, still, in their tires, or maybe it's the aero or whatever. But then just trying to hold on to them, and then obviously that last stint, I think we timed it perfect. Getting that undercut on Lando I think was really key, and the team did such a great job with the pit stop, as well." Interviewer: "Lewis, it's now been two race wins in a row for Mercedes. What does this mean for the remainder of the season?" Lewis: "Yeah, I think… Hugely, hugely grateful to everyone in the team. I think this is just hats off to everyone. Niki would definitely take his hat off. But everyone that's continued to work hard, everyone in the garage that's continued to show up each weekend and not get downbeat by results. And I think George's win last week was amazing, but it wasn't on pure pace, and I think this weekend was the first time we did it on pure pace, without qualifying on the front row, and then after that, even in that first stint, both of us pulling away from everybody else… And then ultimately, I think with the conditions today, the drivers were able to make a bit of a difference." Interviewer: "So you're feeling pumped, going to Hungary in two weeks' time?" Lewis: "I love Hungary, so yeah, I definitely am really looking forward to that, to going there, but just also the trajectory we're on and the fact the car is starting to really, really come alive and feel great, and now I can start to compete with these two here is a great, great feeling."

[katnisspeetaprim]

BTS Reaction; Wanting To Marry Back Home (Hyung Line ver)

Summary; You ask him to get married in your home country (Hyung Line ver)

Word Count; 1242 Masterlist

Warnings; established relationship, fluff, slight angst, idol!au, gender neutral, foreign reader (as in not Korean) think that’s everything! Also sorry some are longer than others!

Requests Are Open! Don’t Be Shy To Ask!!  

Kim Seokjin

‘I don’t understand, why not Korea?’ Jin was confused when you told him, he didn’t understand why you were bringing this up only now, despite him having proposed weeks ago now. You knew that you couldn’t keep your feelings hidden any longer, knowing that if you did it would be too late soon and you didn’t want to regret anything later.

‘It’s just...I’m going to be living here permanently after we’re married, so I want the wedding to be in my old home is all.’ You were nervous for his reaction, but you had been sitting on this since his proposal, so you couldn’t wait any longer. Jin looked at you for a moment, thinking before he gave a small nod.

‘I don’t mind talking more about this if it’s what you really want, but we need to be sure to go over every detail before we decide jagi.’ You could tell by his tone that he was a little unsure about the whole thing, but the fact that he was willing to sit down and talk things through rather than a straight up refusal made you incredibly happy with him.

You sprung up from your seat and threw your arms around his neck, his coming around your waist as you spoke with glee,

‘Thank you Jin! I love you so much!’ He smiled before leaning in to gently kiss you. ‘ I love you too.’

Min Yoongi

You knew for a fact that Yoongi wouldn’t like the idea, even before you bought it up to him still, you had to ask.

‘I don’t understand where this is coming from so suddenly.’ He sat cross legged in his studio chair with a puzzled expression on his face. You had come over to visit and bring him food when you just blurted out what was on your mind.

‘I’ve been thinking about it for a while now actually.’ You look down, twiddling with your thumbs. ‘When we get married I’ll hardly ever get to see my family or friends back home, plus my parents have missed so many milestones in our relationship already...’ You dared to look up at him to gauge his reaction as you trailed off, only to be met with his stoic face.

‘I want my family and friends there too Y/N, its not all about you.’ You were honestly shocked by his reaction. Of curse his family and friends would still be at the wedding, you could easily fly everyone over with your budget so you didn’t understand.

‘Are you serious right now!? I never said they couldn’t be there!!’ You seethed getting to your feet, sending him a glare.

‘Listen.’ Yoongi sighed as he looked away. ‘I’m not arguing with you right now, we’ll talk later tonight when you’ve calmed down.’ He turned his chair back towards his desk, effectively ending the conversation.

‘You are unbelievable Min Yoongi!’ You screamed as you stormed out, making sure to slam the door for good measure. Yoongi’s head fell into his hands with a groan. It would be a long night tonight, he just knew it...

Kim Namjoon

Namjoon knew how many sacrifices you had already made for him in your relationship, the big one being that you moved to Korea away from your family for him, so he thought that it would only be fair to have your wedding back in your home country if that is what you wanted.

‘I know you miss your parents, even though we could fly the out here, I think it would be nice to go back to your home for you.’ He smiled widely at you as he presented his idea.

‘What really? Are you sure your alright with that?’ You looked at him in shock, not really believing that he was being serious.

‘Of course!’ He beamed from across the table. ‘I know it’s what you want but you’ve been too scared to ask me right?’ He reacted his hand across the table, and took one of yours in his, giving it a comforting squeeze. You were speechless, Namjoon was just the most amazing fiancé anyone could ask for.

‘You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say all this Joon!’ You stuttered out, almost in tears, happy tears that is. Truth is, you had been scared to ask him about this, but now you see that there was no need for you to be.

You stood up, stupid grin slapped on your face, as you leaned across the table to pull him into a loving kiss.

‘I hope you realise how much planning we need to do for this Princess.’ He chuckled at you as you pulled away, only for you to return the gesture.

‘Can’t wait.’

Jung Hoseok

You and Hobi were currently cuddled together in bed, watching a movie on TV after a long day of work for both of you.

‘I’ve been thinking.’ You nervously started as your hand played with the material of his shirt,

‘Uh-oh, that’s never  good thing.’ He couldn’t help but joke, causing you to smile.

‘Shut up I’m serious!’ You retorted, playfully tapping him on the chest.

‘Ok I’m  sorry, go ahead.’ He smiled down at you  as you moved to place your chin on his chest, now looking up at him.

‘How would you feel about going back to my home country for the wedding?’ You gently stroked his arm that held you as you spoke. He was silent for a few moments, mulling over what you said, before giving you a slight frown.

‘Why don’t you want it here?’ He sat up as he spoke, causing you to do the same. You now sat facing each other in the bed, not toughing anymore.

This was the first time you had bought this up, so he had no idea you were having doubts like this.

‘It’s not that I don’t want to!’ You were quick to reassure, grabbing both his hands in yours. ‘It’s just that I haven’t been home in so long and after we get married who knows when I’ll next get the chance!....I just really think that this could help me get over my homesickness.’ You felt better after having confided your thoughts in him, getting it off your chest though, he was once again silent as he took in your words. In all honesty he didn’t mind where you got married, what worried him was the sheer amount of planning, time and money you would have to put into getting married in another country, but between the two of you money wasn’t really an issue and you could hire wedding planners to do all the footwork for you..... Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea, he thought to himself.

‘Ok.’ He concluded.

‘Ok?’ You confirmed, not wanting to get ahead of yourself.

‘Yeah, I mean after thinking it through, we have no reason not too. Only problem would be finding a few dates where everybody could be flown over and stay for a few days...That’s gonna be a pain in the ass.’ He flopped down with a groan as he finished his sentence. You let a big grin come across your face before you moved to straddle him. His arms immediately came to rest on your hips, as you leaned down to capture his lips in a deep kiss.

Maybe you should show him how thankful you were, instead of simply saying it.

[tobiasdrake]

On the topic of funny Viz translations, have I got a glass of water for you.

Also Korin is a god and Kami's Lookout doesn't exist in the same physical space as the rest of the Earth.

Goku first begins his relationship with the divine when he nearly gets killed by the assassin Taopaipai. In order to become tough enough to take on Taopaipai, Goku climbs Karin Tower, the unbelievably tall spire that ascends from the Sacred Land of Karin.

He climbs the tower because he's been told of a legendary elixir that will make him powerful.

Inside that bottle is Choseisui. The word is a composite of "Cho", meaning Super, "Sei" meaning Sacred or Holy, and "Sui" meaning Water. This is the Super Holy Water, an elixir of the gods which will bestow incredible power upon whoever drinks it.

Allegedly.

The trick here is that it's just some normal water. The true training is the attempt to drink it - An attempt that requires you take the bottle from its guardian, Karin.

Note that it's not the water that makes this the Sacred Land of Karin. It's sacred because of Karin. Karin is the first deity Goku ever meets.

Karin's official title is the "Bujutsu no Kami", which Viz faithfully translates here as the God of Martial Arts.

Do note that Karin is the second character to be introduced as the Bujutsu no Kami. The Muten-Roshi likes to throw that title around for grandeur, which his relationship to Karin implies he straight up stole it.

But Karin has a much clearer claim to divinity as an ancient hermit who grows heavenly manna known as Senzu and lives halfway between Earth and Heaven.

Which is. Well. This place.

Have you ever noticed that nobody ever flies horizontally to the Lookout? To enter the Lookout, you must travel to Karin Tower and then go up. To leave, you have to go down until you reach the Tower, then fly outward.

Well, there's a reason for that. What the dub calls Kami's Lookout is the Kami-sama no Shinden, or the Temple of God. The Temple exists in Tenkai, the Heavenly Realm - which can only be accessed by ascending into Heaven from Karin Tower.

From his Temple, God is capable of looking down upon the entire mortal plane below. Anything he needs to see is within his purview, because this space is outside of the mortal plane.

This is precisely what made it such a great place to hide out from Buu - and made it such a big deal when Buu managed to find them in Heaven.

Foreshadowing Pure Buu's later trespass into the godly realm of the Kaioshins.

Majin Buu cares nothing for propriety in the face of the divine. He will violate however many sacred boundaries he wants!

In any case, halfway up to the realm of Heaven lives the God of Martial Arts, Karin and the sacred beans he grows. And his sacred water trial, which serves as both a form of training anyone who proves their merit by making the climb, and also teaching a bit about anticipation while he's at it.

But - partly because Toriyama liked the Karin Tower plot so much he copied it like four times over the course of the series - there is more to Karin than only offering this trial and guarding the gateway to Heaven.

In what is honestly one of the laziest writing choices Toriyama ever made.. there is the other, for realsies, super water that's actually super water for realsies.

This is Choshinsui, the Super God Water. It really, truly, actually does have the ability to bring out incredible power in its drinker.

Uh. Allegedly.

Yajirobe asking the real questions here. If nobody's ever survived it before then there is no reason to believe it works. Karin kicks the can down the road to some heresay he's heard. A second cousin of his great grand-predecessor in the Martial Arts God role swears he has an uncle who worked at the distillery who says it powered someone up once. Honest!

There is a non-zero chance that this jug is full of rat poison, and Goku just got a Zenkai boost off of it.

But in any case, the obvious lazy recycling of the Karin Water plot is incredibly obvious and lazy, and can make distinguishing between the two confusing.

In Japanese, the two waters are Choseisui and Choshinsui.

The dub translated them as the Sacred Water and the Ultra Divine Water.

And Viz? Well, they have their own tongue-in-cheek name for Choshinsui.

XD HAHAHAHA You can feel the sarcasm burning. Might want to put some Superest Water on that.

[averageludwig]

Ive been looking at your art for… i cant even remember how long. Like a couple months now, i love checking in on your account here to look at new art, or even old art! Everything you draw is unbelievably eye pleasing. The colours, shading, rendering, outfits, every single thing is so stunning, even to the last detail. And dont even get me started on how you draw Demo! Hes my favourite merc, hands down, always has been since i got tf2 a long time ago. He never had as much content compared to the rest and when i found your account it was quite literally like finding a big blue lake in the middle of a desert. You capture his character so nicely, give him his charasmatic flare and charm in every piece you draw. Ik this is a long thing im writing, my bad, i just feel like i should tell you. Dont listen to what any of those jackass people say either in your other asks. Keep on drawing man. 💗 -🦌

I honestly dont even know where to start. This is just so incredibly sweet, I honestly hadnt thought there would a reason people would wanna take time to write something like this to some artist they like. I don't mean that in a bad way whatsoever, It just really moves you, you know? I started this account just like any other art account i made before it but I only intended it to be an archive, I had gotten burnouts so many times and abandoned LOTS of twt accounts cuz of it but something about this tumblr account always felt easier to go to, no matter what I posted some people found it and liked it and it was a nice change of pace from twitters harsh algorithm lol and its really brought me so much confidence and my art has really changed since a few months ago!! I could never trade the support you guys have given me for anything, whether its simple reblogs or commissions. it means alot. really it does. :,,,,) thank you so much . thanks for supporting the crazy fixations i go through too <3

[thefrogdalorian]

The Best of Both Worlds - Chapter Four

Din Djarin x Female Reader Modern!AU

❁ Series Masterlist ❁ My Masterlist ❁ Read on AO3 ❁

Word Count: 6822 Rating: General Summary: Despite his reservations and against his better instincts, Din heads to a Star Wars convention that he was invited to. Although he fears that his cover will be blown, curiosity gets the best of Din and he can't resist attending a panel. But Din doesn't exactly find the answers he was looking for. Instead, he finds something far more precious. Something that he would never have expected... Content Warnings:  None! Author's Note: This was fun to write. Middle pic is one I took in a panel at SWC last year, just to set the scene. Din was down bad from minute one and honestly it's very cute to see him so flustered 🥺!! Also adorable how similar their experiences/reactions to the convention were! Anyway, hope you enjoyed! I can't wait to post the next chapter, hopefully coming on Sunday :) Thanks again @suresnips for being my beta! I appreciate your help so, so much ♡

4. Curiosity Killed The Cat (Din's POV)

To an observer with no background knowledge of Star Wars or its fandom, it would appear that most of The Mandalorian panel's attendees were merely a little bored. However, someone more familiar with the Star Wars world may have realised that the audience had been expecting something more profound. Maybe they had been hoping for some character analysis of the titular character or to participate in a larger discussion on how the show slotted into the wider Star Wars galaxy during this talk. After all, the panel was entitled: ‘The Man behind the Mandalorian: Exploring the Identity of the Galaxy’s Best Bounty Hunter.’

Instead, anyone who had sought out this panel surely would have found themselves bitterly disappointed, as the host had reduced The Mandalorian to nothing more than its violent action scenes. The host appeared to have a fixation on the fighting which occasionally took place in the show, at the expense of all other elements. 

Perhaps that was the reason why the audience, on the whole, looked so incredibly bored. Even one attendee, wearing an almost unbelievably realistic cosplay, seemed more entertained by the seams of his gloves than anything the panel had to say about the show he was surely such a huge fan of. His helmet was bowed towards the floor as his leg bounced up and down repeatedly, a sure sign of his restlessness and his keenness for this panel to be over so he could continue his day at the convention.

To outside observers – whether they knew everything about Star Wars or nothing at all – the man dressed in full Mandalorian armour was possibly one of the biggest fans of the show. After all, he had replicated Mando's costume in painstaking detail; it must have taken an unbelievable amount of effort and hours, borne out of the intense love for The Mandalorian that he surely had.

But Din Djarin was not a cosplayer… his armour was not a costume.

The suit that he wore had not been crafted due to his undying love for Star Wars, it had been cast in Beskar, according to ancient traditions, at a forge by the golden-haired woman who served as The Armorer for his tribe.

It felt strange to Din for him to sit there and be spoken about as if he was not present. Of course, to everyone else in the room, the notion of Mando being in the room with them seemed as likely to happen as it was for pigs everywhere to spontaneously begin flying. To all other attendees, Din had just cosplayed as his favourite character. Everyone else in the room did not have the faintest idea that they were in fact in the presence of the man behind the character they all loved. While the assembled group enjoyed Mando enough that they had made their way to the far corner of the enormous convention hall for this panel, they didn’t know that sitting amongst them was the man who portrayed the Star Wars character that they loved so much. Nor that the armour that they had seen so many times on their screens was right there, beside them. Close enough to touch, if they wanted to.

The thought of being amongst so many super fans almost dissuaded Din from attending this panel, which had caught his eye. After deciding to attend the convention the previous evening, Din had used his laptop to search through the events for the day as he lounged on the couch in his cottage, Grogu playing on the rug beside him. This particular panel had instantly stuck out to him, above all others that were advertised. Din had always harboured a curiosity about what The Mandalorian meant to people. But it was perhaps a more selfish interest that had motivated him to seek out this panel in particular: Din wanted to know whether the fans had any idea about his identity.

Din had intended to sneak in and hover at the back and watch the panel from there before exiting as discreetly as he entered. But things had not gone according to that plan at all. Din had never attended an event as enormous as this and had no idea how it worked – he felt out of his depth. It was a feeling he was unused to and uncomfortable with, as Din always liked to be in control and have a plan. 

Ironically, it was the very show which was being discussed that had first put cracks into his careful, considered nature. Relinquishing some of that control in signing up to be The Mandalorian had been difficult for Din, as he was required to be on set for a strict filming schedule in a brand new country. The stability and money that had been offered was something Din had struggled to refuse, especially given the fact he now had an extra mouth to feed.

But as Din sat there in the room where the panel was being held, he knew that coming here had all been one gigantic, terrible mistake. It was a stupid, nonsensical idea. It had been nothing more than a rush of blood to the head, Din just hoped he would be able to leave again having remained undetected. There was an old saying that Din had heard many times: ‘Curiosity killed the cat.’ Now, Din felt as though he finally understood that phrase. 

Din was furious with himself that he had put himself in the position to hear such harsh words about the show after he had tried so hard to keep himself away from all of the attention portraying a lead role in a Star Wars show brought. For a man who was usually so calculating and meticulous in his actions, this had surely been the most foolish decision that Din had made in a long while.

Even worse than Din's decision to attend this panel, he mused, was his decision to attend the convention wearing his armour. Being surrounded by superfans made Din keenly aware that if any one of their gaze were to linger long enough, perhaps they would realise that his armour was not merely a highly impressive cosplay. So in a bid to distract himself and calm his racing heart, he began fiddling with the stitching of the tips of his mustard-coloured gloves. It was a sign of the acute anxiety that he was currently enduring, but to anyone watching, his fidgeting probably indicated sheer boredom. 

Din mentally kicked himself for the ridiculous decision to attend the convention wearing his armour. The choice had made the entire event even more anxiety-inducing than it needed to be. Din lamented the fact that he could have come here with Grogu and simply blended in with the thousands of other families bringing their children to the convention for a fun-filled day. True, it would have still been an overwhelming experience and Grogu may have struggled with the crowds, but at least then, Din wouldn’t have had to constantly fear his identity being exposed when someone realised that his armour was a little too screen-realistic to be a simple cosplay. 

Indeed, it was the skill and dedication of other fans that had initially eased Din’s fears of detection when he had walked into the crowded hall and began moving with the sea of people to an unknown destination up ahead. Even if he wanted to choose his path, there was no way to; Din was lost amongst the endless sea of people. As he travelled down the main hall, his mouth felt dry underneath the helmet and his heart thundered in his chest as he had no idea where he was going. But once he had made it to the side and stopped briefly to orient himself, Din realised just how many fans there were cosplaying as Mando.

Din had been stunned by the many amazing cosplays he had seen. After collecting his nerves, he slowly began to move down the hall and gave a polite nod of the head to any other Mando cosplayers he passed. Most returned the gesture, in shared acknowledgement of each other’s craftsmanship. Progress had been slow, though, as Din was constantly asked for photos. Even worse were those that did not ask, but merely threw themselves at him. Some even touched Din without asking first, a gesture which made him flinch. It annoyed Din, just because he was dressed in cosplay did not mean he gave consent to be touched whenever others pleased.

Despite the host of incredible cosplays he had passed, Din knew that none of them truly lived up to his armour, his was a cut above the rest. There was no way to perfectly replicate real Beskar, no matter the incredible lengths that some of the cosplayers had gone to. He just hoped that no one would question it too deeply.

After a few minutes of walking around the main hall, Din had decided he needed some respite from the endless photo requests and eyes that Din felt watching his every move. Din found a quiet corner of the hall with some near deserted toilets and headed for them. He sealed himself into the stall and removed his helmet, grimacing at the way his hair clung to his forehead thanks to how much he had perspired due to his nerves. The helmet was climate-controlled, so the heat of the building should not have been an issue. It could not legislate for Din's emotions, though.

Each time Din moved to leave, he found that the anxiety he had felt while walking through the hall reared its ugly head. He kept telling himself that he only needed a few more minutes to regain his composure. That was until Din checked his watch and realised it was not long until the panel began.

So Din had unintentionally spent most of the time before the panel hiding away in the toilet stall in an attempt to repair his shattered nerves. At that point, it would have been so easy for Din to leave. But he knew that the curious part of his mind would never forgive him if he did not at least check out the panel. It was perhaps the best opportunity he was going to get to discover what people thought of the show, whether they liked the character and, most importantly, whether they had any theories on who The Mandalorian was.

Yet, now he was actually sitting there in the panel, he cursed not only himself for not leaving earlier, but Din also cursed Peli Motto for giving him such a stupid idea to attend this convention in the first place.

Many times throughout the panel – which was headed by a man called Jeff who wore a backwards baseball cap, despite looking as though he should have grown out of such a fashion choice several decades ago – Din had considered getting up and walking out. He had arrived pretty late as it was, only a minute or two before it began, as he hoped to sneak in and take an unassuming spot at the back. But the seats had all been filled back there, and an overly enthusiastic volunteer had guided him to a spare aisle seat about fifteen rows back from the front. 

Luckily, almost everyone had been too wrapped up in watching Jeff and his cronies fumble around with technology to pay him much mind, except for the people on his row who were in awe of his ‘cosplay.’ It would have been so easy for Din to just up and leave since he was on the end of the aisle. But he was fearful that it would have drawn too much attention to him. Thus far, he had pretty much gone undetected. Jeff had not bothered to look at the audience too clearly to notice the incredibly realistic Mandalorian that was currently in the room with him. Which was unsurprising, given how self-centred the man appeared to be. The panel really ought to have been retitled ‘The Jeff Show.’

Most of the panel had been pretty inoffensive, if a little dull. Din silently objected to the way that Jeff had reduced the show down to only its violent components, rather than engaging with it on a deeper level. At times, Jeff was so close to understanding what the action scenes demonstrated about Mando’s character and the wider politics of the galaxy. But then he would just make another crass comment about how good Mando was at killing and all progress would grind to a halt.

But then Jeff opened up the floor and invited the audience to step forward to the mic so he could hear comments from the fans. Din leaned forward in his seat, excited to finally fulfil the purpose of attending this panel and hear what others thought of the show that he had poured so much of his heart and soul into. But if Din was expecting to hear positive feedback, he was about to be bitterly disappointed.

Frustratingly, most speakers took their opportunity to address the audience to do nothing more than complain about never seeing Mando’s face or knowing his name. It was no surprise to Din that people felt that way, even if he was a little disappointed that people were so fixated on those two elements. Din knew it had been a concern at the beginning of the show, during early production meetings. But thanks to some input from Din himself, the character of Mando now felt more fleshed-out than he had when Din had joined the project.

Plus, Din felt as though viewers could understand enough about the character and his intentions without needing to know his name or see his face. It was a belief that was being challenged by the attitudes of the attendees of this panel. But Din was not too upset. After all, he was more concerned with whether any fans had any viable theories about his identity. Mercifully, none of them appeared to have picked up on any rumours. When the show's creators told him that no one suspected that Din Djarin was The Mandalorian, it appeared they had been telling the truth.

Fortunately, despite the name of the panel, there had been no speculation on Mando's true identity thus far. Despite the panel's title hinting that the man behind the Mandalorian would be discussed, that had so far not transpired. Things appeared to be looking up for Din; not only had there been no speculation as to his identity, but none of the audience had noticed the incredibly realistic cosplay that was sitting amongst them.

That was until a young man with brown hair, dressed in a Mando t-shirt and jeans stood up and moved towards the mic. His comments started positively enough, “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love the show and all,” The man confessed, and Din smiled slightly underneath the helmet. However, he continued: “But I just feel like we don’t know that much about Mando. It’s as if we, as an audience, are being held back from connecting with him fully because of some diva’s selfish demands to keep his identity hidden!” The man exclaimed.

Din felt his blood run cold. He swallowed thickly, feeling bile rise in his throat. He should have known that this was a bad idea, that coming here was a mistake. But the man was not quite finished, yet:

“Seriously, the guy who plays him must be such an asshole. Imagine having to work with that guy!” He ended his tirade, to a smattering of laughter and applause from the room.

The accusations that he had thrown Din’s way, about him being an asshole or a diva – a charge that in particular made no sense, as surely a diva would want their name and face to be plastered everywhere – had been like a punch to the gut. And Din had endured many of them throughout his life to understand exactly how painful they could be.

Far from the kind words he had been expecting, instead, Din had been forced to listen to various people slander both the show and him as a person. Din’s heart ached as he heard the charges being levelled against him; it was one thing to criticise the show but to call his character into question caused a whole other level of pain. If they only knew why he had to keep his identity a secret, they would never throw such cruel accusations his way. 

Din wasn’t naive. He knew that by signing up for a Star Wars show, his life would change forever. It was not a decision that he had taken lightly. Especially given that his way of life was opposed to everything the mega-corporation that now owned Star Wars stood for. But it presented an opportunity to not only secure a consistent income and better life for himself and his son but also to showcase his culture to the world. It was an opportunity that Din really could not turn down. However, just because Din was prepared for his life to change in some ways did not mean that he could ever be prepared to be attacked on such a personal level.

At that moment, Din almost tossed aside his priority to remain hidden and not draw attention to himself as he debated walking out of the panel. After hearing such personal attacks against his character, Din was so close to just upping and leaving that room. He had heard enough. If there was even one more vaguely harsh word tossed Din’s way, it might have tipped him over the edge.

Despite the tough exterior that Din Djarin projected to the rest of the world, he was at his core, a fairly sensitive man. He knew that the things that he had already heard about himself would take him a long time to come to terms with. He couldn’t bear to hear any further unkindness.

Din planted his feet firmly on the floor and began to lean forward, preparing himself to leave. It seemed that in a war between his mind and body, his body had won… his subconscious was going to make him stand up and storm out of that room, against all rational thought.

In all of his anguish, Din had missed the girl who had stormed forward to the microphone, dodging limbs and hurdling bags, to stand before the room.

But then she began speaking and her presence became impossible to ignore any longer; her voice was shaky with nerves but there was absolute conviction and certainty behind every word.

And Din was frozen to the spot, utterly transfixed. Suddenly all thoughts of leaving exited his mind.

“I think tying Mando’s identity to his name and face is a pretty narrow way of viewing how we can understand who someone truly is inside and what exactly motivates them. I mean, I think I’ve connected to his character pretty well without ever seeing his face or knowing his real name. That’s because Mando has proved time and time again what kind of man he is,” The girl argued and Din found himself instantly relaxing and leaning back in his seat. “The way he has risked his life multiple times to rid the galaxy of threats and evil shows that he is committed to securing a brighter future, even if he is not around to see it. This man is willing to sacrifice himself for the greater good. Sure, we don’t know his name or face or a lot about his origins, but I think to us, that should prove that he has nothing but noble intentions. That human side of the man beneath all of the armour allows us to connect to him on a far deeper level than just seeing a face and learning a name ever could,” She finished and Din shut his eyes and took a deep, steadying breath. Unbeknownst to her, the kind words she spoke had soothed Din's soul. She had begun to heal the wounds that were opened by the previous speakers' harsh words.

Din noticed how nervous the girl seemed and the way she fiddled with her hands as she stood at the microphone. He marvelled at the way she had been up like a shot to defend the character, though. Plus, judging by how eloquently she spoke, Din assumed she was used to this. 

Din sat there and listened with a small smile on his face, shaking his head slightly in awe as she launched into a passionate defence of the character. Unlike all previous speakers, the girl understood just as Din did, that seeing someone’s true intentions and the qualities they possessed mattered more than knowing their name or what they looked like.

Suddenly, Din began to feel a lot lighter. People did care, people did love and appreciate the show and they understood Mando as a character. He was pleased by that fact. Din knew he would stay now. Even if the next speakers reverted to being less than complimentary, the girl had bolstered his confidence and soothed his bruised ego enough to stick around.

Din expected that the girl would retreat to her seat after giving her opinion. The awful man who ran the panel certainly seemed to think that was the case as he met her passionate speech with empty platitudes, which Din thought bordered on the patronising. 

However, what she did next caused Din’s jaw to drop beneath his helmet. The girl did not return to her seat. Instead, she spoke up and continued to defend not only the character of Mando but also the man behind him.

Din listened in awe as she started speaking up to defend the man who was, unbeknownst to her, sitting only a few feet away.

“Also, I know no one outside this room will probably ever hear what had been said at this panel, but I think attacking the character of the man who portrays Mando, simply because he wants privacy, is unfair. I think we should always talk about people, online and publicly, as though they can read or hear what we say,” She argued and Din almost snorted at that assertion.. if only she knew that he was right here. “We don’t know why he won’t say who he is, but I trust that he has his reasons. Even then, he doesn’t need to have a good reason. Everyone is entitled to their privacy for the simple fact of wanting to be private,” The girl appealed to her fellow fans. Din felt tears pool in his eyes at her beautiful sentiment. Until she came along, he had been about to leave, with his last memories of the panel, believing that everyone hated him and thought he made the show worse. Now, though, he was listening to a passionate, eloquent defence of his character.

The girl finished off her speech with a comment about the show. She explained how Mando respected everyone that he encountered in the galaxy and left the places he visited better than he found them. She implored her fellow fans to take the same lessons from the show, rather than focus on the violent, action scenes. When she was finished, Din wanted to stand up and applaud her, before rushing up to her and thanking her from the bottom of his heart.

It was clear that she understood exactly what The Mandalorian was truly about. The show was, at its core, about respecting others and learning to peacefully coexist. Mando was fighting for a better galaxy, a kinder galaxy and once people understood that, they would understand how important it was to respect the actor behind the Mandalorian.

Din had an overwhelming urge to make his way over to this stranger, to thank her from the bottom of his heart for standing up for Mando so passionately. He knew, given his cosplay, that he could easily pass as an enthusiastic fan. 

Then Din remembered who he was and settled on the upsetting reality that he couldn’t take such a reckless action.

If he spoke, she might recognise that the voice beneath the helmet was the very same one that she had no doubt seen on screen so many times. It was too great a risk and, much as Din would have loved to thank her, it now seemed as though their paths would diverge without her ever knowing how truly thankful Din was for her words and how much they had done to boost his confidence. Ultimately, although it was sad, Din knew that it was how things had to be. The risk was too great.

Although for the short time remaining that Din would remain in her orbit, Din was determined to commit every inch of her to memory, so that he would never forget the woman who had unknowingly done so much to him. Din was determined to impress her on his memory on the off-chance that their paths would one day cross in a scenario where he might be able to get to know her. After all, Din was a man, and he was not immune to the fact that she was a beautiful woman, perhaps several years younger than him. But her beauty was not just skin-deep; it was to be found in the way she spoke so eloquently. How she addressed the room with such maturity and wisdom. To Din, it appeared as though she had lived several lifetimes.

Now she had sat back in her seat, Din could only appreciate the back of her profile, though he had noticed the cute slope of her nose and her plush lips as she made her way back to her seat. Din focused on her hair. It looked so soft that he wondered how it would feel against his skin as he nuzzled into her scalp and pressed a soft kiss of gratitude there.

The T-visor had its perks, as no one else in the room was any the wiser to how intently Din had affixed his gaze to her, much like Mando did when tracking a bounty. Din found that, even if he had wanted to, he could not look away from her. He watched quietly as her friend whispered excitedly to her. She was only a couple of rows in front of him and was almost close enough to reach out and touch. 

Perhaps that was how Din could make her feel his appreciation in a low-risk way, through a simple touch. He wondered whether he could put his hand on her shoulder on the way out and convey his thanks with a nod of his helmet the way Mando would. But that was another fantasy that would not come to pass, as Din knew that when this panel was reaching its conclusion, he had to make straight for the doors before he got swamped by any of the enthusiastic fans in here. He had seen the way throughout the panel that the number of people who had spotted his incredible ‘costume’ had increased. Din knew he was drawing many eyes.

Despite the overwhelming urge inside him to thank the girl, Din knew that he had to keep moving through the convention centre. Cutting a dedicated path, scything his way through the crowd like the methodic warrior he was.

So, when Jeff started wrapping up the panel, Din sprang straight to his feet and strode towards the doors, before a single soul could say anything. There were a few excited faces and murmured gasps as he strode purposefully towards the exit, but fortunately, no one was quick enough to stand up and thwart his quick exit. 

Bizarrely, even though he was unused to being around so many people and had initially found the experience overwhelming, Din found that after the panel, he felt far more comfortable in the larger, crowded spaces at the convention. In a small room, there was no privacy. Anyone and everyone could look at him, their steely, judgmental eyes burrowing into him. They know… he had been constantly thinking to himself throughout the panel. But of course, no one was any the wiser to his true identity. Even if the panel's attendees thought that the costume was realistic, the idea of the real Mandalorian attending a convention dressed as himself was too far-fetched to be real. Even the most imaginative fanfic writer could not come up with such a ridiculous plot.

So, Din found himself physically relaxing as he made his way back to the main hallway. His shoulders were less tense, his jaw unclenched. After he left the panel, Din had not intended to linger much longer. But as he found himself wandering around, stopping for more and more photos with eager fans who were so blown away by his ‘cosplay,' Din discovered that he began to almost enjoy the attention.

There were so many children here too. Some were not much older than Grogu. Din wished he had brought Grogu with him, but he knew that the convention would not have been a welcome environment for his precious son, especially given his nervous disposition. But Din knew with absolute certainty that Grogu was having a pleasant afternoon, he was being looked after by an elderly man named Kuiil, who was a babysitter that the studio had initially put him in touch with. Kuiil was always dependable and happy to help Din out whenever he needed him to take care of Grogu, no matter how little notice Din gave.

Din was gradually growing in confidence as he strode through the main hall of the convention centre. Now, when fans asked for photos or even launched themselves at him without asking first, Din found that he was less nervous. To every request, Din just nodded. When people thanked him, although they didn’t always – Din occasionally wished he could speak to remind them to mind their manners – Din made the same gesture. A simple nod said so much, without saying anything at all.

Din would never speak while wearing his armour. To most, it perhaps came across as an incredible amount of dedication to cosplaying the character – Mando, after all, was a man of few words. But the reality was that Din knew his voice could blow his cover. 

Ordinarily, Din rarely feared his voice would give him away as The Mandalorian, as his Mando voice was distorted somewhat by the helmet, so the difference was sufficient enough for Din to feel confident that no one would realise he was Mando. But surrounded by superfans at this convention, in the very helmet that would distort his voice to make him unmistakably sound the same as Mando, Din deemed it far too great a risk to take. 

After stopping for photos and fistbumps with enthusiastic fans of all ages, Din was finally ready to make his exit, much later than he believed he would have initially. Ultimately, Din was glad he had attended the panel and not rushed off earlier in the day when he had felt so overwhelmed that he had been driven to hide in the toilet. Although the panel had not been an entirely positive experience, it had been worth it just because of her.

And to think, Din was so hurt after the comments some fans had made about him at the panel that he would have missed out on feeling all the love and appreciation for Mando, had it not been for that girl who took a stand and raised her voice in defence of him. Her words had allowed DIn to feel lighter, freer and as though he wanted to open himself up to the love the fans were prepared to show him. 

The day at the convention had been an amazing, eye-opening experience. One that was far out of Din’s comfort zone, something that he never would have believed he could do for himself. But now he realised that he had also stayed far longer than he had been expecting. Din wanted to get back to his son. Grogu was usually settled and happy for the first few hours, but Din knew that it would soon begin to veer into the territory where a meltdown may be more likely.

Plus, Din had finally had enough for the day. He was accustomed to wearing his armour for long periods – it was like a second skin, after all – but he hadn’t sat down, nor removed his helmet for hours. Despite his increased confidence, the fear of being discovered lingered. The fear that his ‘costume’ would be sussed out set him constantly on edge and was draining him far more than a heavy suit of armour could. 

So Din began making his way to the exit through the expansive main hallway. He almost made it through without stopping, until he noticed a massive banner with a photograph of himself on it. Din stopped for a second, looking up at it as he remembered the day that photo had been taken. It had been a nerve-wracking experience for him, he was certainly not a model, but they had needed some promo shots. So Din found himself there, posing awkwardly in front of a professional photographer who was barking orders at him and wondering when arms and hands had become such awkward, cumbersome things. Din would rather have spent an entire day throwing himself into walls without a single break before repeating the experience and had informed The Mandalorian's creative team as much. So future photoshoots were completed with a body double wearing a copy of Din’s armour. The photo on display was one of the few that was him, though.

Din stood there for a few moments, smiling proudly at it underneath his helmet before a small voice caused Din to stop reminiscing over the gigantic poster and abruptly turn on the spot to face the direction of the voice.

“Excuse me, could we take a photo with you, please?” A timid voice said. In response, Din felt every hair stand on end as he instantly recognised the person who the voice belonged to.

It was the girl from the panel, staring at him with absolute admiration and adoration. He stood open-mouthed and gawked at her for a few seconds, stunned to be in her presence once again. But then her beautiful features changed. She frowned slightly and then Din realised he had been standing there, frozen, as he stared at her in disbelief. She had taken his silence and inaction as a dismissal and almost retreated before Din snapped out of his trance and nodded quickly. He wanted to tell her how wonderful she had been at the panel, how much her words had meant to him. But everything happened so fast.

Din felt his heart rate quicken as the girl moved to stand next to him. Her arms hung by her side somewhat awkwardly, just like Din’s had in the photo on the poster that he had just been admiring. She was too nervous - or perhaps polite - to sling one around his shoulder or waist. Din wouldn’t have minded though, there was something imperceptible about her that made Din want to be drawn into her orbit. She had a magnetic presence.

Din barely remembered to turn and look up at the girl’s friend who was taking the photo, his ordinarily calm and composed mind had been catapulted off its axis by her presence. The girl went to step away, but Din raised a hand just in front of her body to stop her from moving off.

“Wait, let me… pose properly,” Din choked out, forgetting his vow of silence in a moment of recklessness. He held his breath for a few seconds, but if she recognised his voice, she did not acknowledge it. Din released a shaky breath, trying not to be frustrated with himself. After all, Din had only good intentions. Out of everyone he had taken photos with today, she deserved the best out of them all. 

“Oh, thank you!” The girl laughed and smiled appreciatively as she took her place back by Din’s side.

Din placed one hand on his belt and leaned in towards her, hoping that the picture turned out to her satisfaction. They stood there side by side, almost close enough to touch. At that moment, Din wanted nothing more than to remove his helmet and bare his face to the alluring woman who had publicly spoken so eloquently in his defence and been equally polite in their more private encounter. But even if he had wanted to, they were out of time. Their few seconds together were over. 

“Thank you! Your cosplay is amazing, by the way! It looks so realistic!” She said with a shy smile as she stepped away. “I think there’s a cosplay competition at the Twin Suns stage this afternoon, you should seriously consider entering. I’m sure you’d win!” The girl said encouragingly.

Din nodded stiffly, struck by her manners and how genuinely excited and encouraging towards others she seemed to be. Both traits mattered deeply to Din. But there were also nerves behind his suddenly restricted motions as he once again feared his cover being blown. Din supposed that it would be unsurprising if it was the same girl from the panel who had shown such a passion for the character was finally the one to connect the dots.

Despite the momentary panic caused by her comment about how realistic his costume was, Din was still amazed by how sweet she had been. The way her eyes shone with genuine excitement as she approached him and yet, she managed to maintain that respect for him that other attendees did not. So many people rushed up to Din when he was in this costume, without even stopping to ask his permission for a photo, let alone take a second to look at him or politely thank him. The fact she had thanked him and complimented him and even spoken encouraging words about his cosplay proved to Din that she was one of the politest attendees. 

Din had a few more seconds to appreciate being in the girl’s presence as the friend she was with stepped up to have a picture with him. The girl’s friend seemed more confident than her in the way she posed, she seemed to know exactly what to do. But Din was paying her no mind. Instead, he glanced at the details of her face he could see from behind the phone – complete with Mando case – that she was using to take the photo. Din noticed the spark in her eyes, the way they lit up when she looked at him. She probably didn’t realise just how much Din could see in the helmet and that he was staring directly at her, noticing the look of awe she wore on her face.

“Thank you,” The girl’s friend said with a polite nod and the two walked off.

Din stood for a moment, watching them as they went. They flicked through the photos, jumping up and down excitedly as they looked at one. They were just out of earshot, but Din could tell how excited they both seemed by the pictures they had taken together. He smiled beneath his helmet. Knowing that he could bring such joy to others was a phenomenon he had lived in blissful ignorance of for most of the time since he had been cast as The Mandalorian, the only exception being when he had visited that children’s hospital a few months previously.

Today had opened Din Djarin’s eyes to the impact he was having out there, on so many different people. It was a debt that he owed to her, a debt that he knew he would, regrettably, never be able to repay.

Perhaps, in another reality, Din would have run after her, stopped her and confessed how appreciative he was of her kindness. He would have told her that he wanted to get to know her and asked her on a date if she was single. Maybe she would have been momentarily taken aback, given the bizarre circumstances of him wearing a full suit of armour and running up to her at a convention like that. But hopefully, she would have given him a chance.

They would have gotten to know each other, and gradually fallen in love over the next few months. Perhaps, if things went well, they would have lived a long and happy life together. It felt so real, for one fleeting moment, that Din could almost see their future together.

But that was ridiculous. In this reality, Din watched from behind his helmet as the outline of the girl he felt himself so drawn to grew smaller and smaller before eventually being swallowed up by the crowd.

She disappeared into the distance. Out of view, and out of Din’s life.

Next Chapter

Taglist: @toxic-seduction

[orinthered]

veilguard first impressions are like. well under the cut and there's a bit of negativity but i toned it down hopefully

it's a maturation of inquisition's combat for sure so if you liked inquisition's combat you'd like veilguard — if you didnt, gg lol. still feels like i can get through a lot of fights on hard by just spamming my buttons and hoping for the best but that's kind of how all non-souls action games feel to me tbh so your mileage may vary. i could easily compare it to the witcher

ui is uninspired and sometimes an active hindrance, character creator is unbelievably mid for how good the game looks, dialogue is as good as it can be if you like the dialogue wheel approach (which i don't) but i find myself really rather fond of solas where i wasn't in inquisition. i think, honestly, he is my favourite character in veilguard so far

i think it's harder for me to enjoy the game because i'm constantly comparing it to its' predecessors though :\ i think there's room for my opinion to improve, especially once i get past the "everyone is nondescriptly pleasant towards rook" phase, but... man, it's crazy how fucking railroady veilguard is compared to origins. hell, how railroady it is compared to inquisition, which is an already incredibly railroady game