#its the same journey but im so different

[pinkcadillaccas]

Anyone else feeling the relentless march of time on this Saturday night

[larabar]

never getting over how. melancholy im here sounds

the chords in the chorus sound a little more triumphant at first but it kinda just sounds like a half victory. the pain of the journey is still there, even at the end of it all. but its alright. i will be with you. im here

[defness]

→ drawing the same pose over and over again and feels cringe

→ realizes that these drawings are simply pre-ref drawings to figure out one's design so I can Draw Them

→ no longer feels cringe

[magnoliamyrrh]

also. realized last night

[3416]

i only follow the nba but there def is a different vibe if you've been a fan of a team for a long time bc it's so easy to become jaded. if your team is good but never wins it all then it becomes hard to believe in them year after year. even if logically that makes no sense because often there are huge changes on rosters lol. and you might think 'if this is upsetting why still watch/call yourself a fan' and you'd be right but with sports once you're in, you're in for life lol

idk, i feel like watching sports or investing your time in them is still something you're CHOOSING to do, esp when it becomes a longtime thing and loses it's shiny new obsessive appeal, so it feels like some ppl are choosing to be miserable sometimes, lol. like you don't have to keep watching or call yourself a fan if it's not bringing you joy just bc it's become a habit, and while i do understand why some people become jaded... i just know there are others who have been around for a long time and manage to not become that way necessarily and those are the people i'd rather listen to or be around or have centered in the media. i'm not trying to preemptively become cynical about a thing that brings me lots of serotonin just bc a segment of the fanbase has experienced disappointment too much 😭😭 like... i guess i havent gone through the gutwrenching nature of things over n over again but when it gets too much for me or makes me feel uber negative all the time, you better believe i will be moving on.

[joshuamj]

i am Blind to basically anything I'm not familiar with, so i still don't know anythin about In Stars and Time. Could you give some info on it??? i am looking for games to play rn....

hmmm okay.. I will say, going in blind is best! I went in knowing literally only 3 things. 1) that it was about a timeloop, 2) that it was entirely monochrome, and 3) that this one character I had seen once was in it (Mirabelle, didn't know her name, just that she existed). And going in with such little knowledge was great, I'd highly recommend

But if you want more, then here's a bit more.. (mostly a synopsis of stuff you'll figure out early on, no major spoilers)

Obviously its a story about a timeloop! In the game, your party is a group trying to save the world from someone simply known as "the King" who is freezing the entire country in time. Interestingly, the game takes place at the end of your journey. The entire party has been assembled and have known each other, you've journeyed across the country, collected items that'll allow you to enter where the King awaits. All thats left to do is go through where he's holed up and defeat him. Also interestingly, you don't play as the protagonist of this story I've just mentioned. A girl named Mirabelle is the chosen one, blessed by her god, she is unable to be frozen in time, and has taken it upon herself to save her country. Yet, you aren't playing as her. You're playing as someone named Siffrin, just one of her party members, and one that says that they're only here because "they have nothing better to do." This should be Mirabelle's story, but you quickly realize why it isn't. Not long into the game, Siffrin's life unexpectedly comes to an end, and the fact that there's a timeloop afoot becomes apparent. Nobody but you and one strange mystery person (named "Loop" of all things) are aware of the loops. In the game you'll do all that you can to make it to the King and defeat him and keep your friends safe, no matter how many deaths, no matter how much time. But thing's aren't that simple you'll find!

Also this game is about a timeloop, so as you may guess, there's a lot of death involved so warnings for lots of death (including suicide), and also warnings for Really Bad Mental Health Stuff, as you may also guess, being trapped in a timeloop isn't good for your mental health. Check the warnings for the game if you think you may need to!

[akihikosanada]

atlus announcing they will not bring back femc ever on international women's day is what will either drive me to kill myself or commit a crime. it's a toss up on which one actually happens

[aroaceinaerospace]

sometimes I so deeply miss being a teenager because there was so much more space to just talk to people the same age as you and figure out who you are. there's nothing quite like the vulnerability you were able to reach late at night during a sleepover with friends

[gayhotpriests]

.

[welsknightenjoyer]

Cant wait for wc!scott to get hit by the realisation that in the time between milo's death and now, he has changed so much that he will no longer be the person milo remembers

[mashkaroom]

Translation thoughts on the greatest poem of our time, “His wife has filled his house with chintz. To keep it real I fuck him on the floor”

It’s actually quite tricky to translate. Because it’s so short, each word and grammatical construction is carrying a lot of weight. It also, as people have noted, plays with registers. “Chintz” is a word with its own set of associations. Chintz is a type of fabric with its origins in India. The disparaging connotation is from chintz’s eventual commonality. Chintz was actually banned from England and France because the local textile mills couldn’t compete.

Keep it real” is tremendously difficult to translate -- it’s a bit difficult to even define. It means to be authentic and genuine, but it also has connotations of staying true to one’s roots. Like many English slang words, it comes first from AAVE. From this article on the phrase:

“[K]eeping it real meant performing an individual’s experience of being Black in the United States. As such, it became a form of resistance. Insisting on a different reality, one that wasn’t recognized by the dominant culture, empowered Black people to ‘forge a parallel system of meaning,’ according to cultural critic Mich Nyawalo...The phrase’s roots in racialized resistance, however, were erased when it was adopted by the mostly-White film world of the 1970s and ’80s....Keeping it real in this context indicated a performance done so well that audiences could forget it was a performance.This version of keeping it real wasn’t about testifying to personal experience; it was about inventing it.”

One has to imagine that jjbang8 did not have the origins of these phrases in mind when composing the poem, but even if by coincidence, the etymological and cultural journeys of these two central lexemes perfectly reflect the themes of the poem. The two words have themselves traveled away from the authenticity they once represented, and, in a new context, have taken on new meanings -- the hero of our poem, the unnamed “him”, is, presumably, in quite a similar situation.

Setting aside the question of register, of the phonology, prosody, and meter of the original, of the information that is transmitted through bits of grammar that don’t necessarily exist in other languages -- a gifted translator might be able to account for all of these -- how do you translate the journey of the words themselves?

In my translations, I decided to go for the most evocative words, even if they don’t evoke the exact same things as in the original. The strength of these two lines is that they imply that there’s more than just what you see, whether that’s the details of the story -- what’s happening in the marriage? how do the narrator and the husband know each other? -- or the cultural background of the very words themselves. I wanted to try and replicate this effect.

Yiddish first:

זייַן ווייַב האָט אָנגעפֿילט זייַן הויז מיט הבלים

צו בלייַבן וויטיש, איך שטוף אים אופֿן דיל. zayn vayb hot ongefilt zayn hoyz mit havolim.

tsu blaybn vitish, ikh shtup im afn dil

This translation is pretty direct. There is a word for chintz in Yiddish -- tsits -- but, as far as I can tell, it refers only to the fabric; it doesn’t have the same derogatory connotation as in English. I chose, instead, havolim, a loshn-koydesh word that means “vanity, nothingness, nonsense, trifles”. In Hebrew, it can also mean breath or vapor. I chose this over the other competitors because it, too, is a word with a journey and with a secondary meaning. Rather than imagining the bright prints of chintz, we might imagine a more olfactory implication -- his wife has filled his house with perfumes or cleaning fluids. It can carry the implication that something is being masked as well as the associations with vanity and gaudiness.

Vitish -- Okay, this is a good one. Keep in mind, of course, that I’ve never heard or seen it used before today, so my understanding of its nuances is very limited, but I’ll explain to you exactly how I am sourcing its meaning. The Comprehensive Yiddish-English Dictionary (CYED) gives this as “gone astray (esp. woman); slang correct, honest”. I used the Yiddish Book Center’s optical character recognition software, which allows you to search for strings in their corpus, to confirm that both usages are, in fact, attested. It’s a pretty rare word in text, though, as the CYED implies, it might have been more common in spoken speech. It appears in a glossary in “Bay unds yuden” (Among Us Jews) as a thieves cant word, where it’s definted as נאַריש, שרעקעוודיק, אונבעהאלפ. אויך נישט גנביש. אין דער דייַטשער גאַונער-שפראַך --  witsch -- נאַריש, or “foolish, terrible, clumsy/pathetic. not of the thieves world. in the German thieves cant witsch means foolish”. A vitishe nekeyve (vitishe woman) is either a slacker or a prostitute. I can’t prove this for sure, but my sense is that it might come from the same root as vitz, joke (it’s used a couple of times in the corpus to mention laughing at a vitish remark -- which makes it seem kind of similar to witty). I assume the German thieve’s cant that’s being referred to is Rotwelsch, which has its own fascinating history and, in fact, incorporates a lot of Yiddish. In fact, for this reason, some of the first Yiddish linguists were actually criminologists! What an excellent set of associations, no? It has the slangy sense of straightforward of honest; it has a sense of sexual non-normativity (we might use it to read into the relationship between the narrator and the husband) -- and a feminized one at that; it was used by an underground subculture, and, again, the meaning there was quite different -- like the “real” in “keeping it real” it was used to indicate whether or not someone was “in” on the life (tho “real” is used to mean that the person is in, while “vitish” is used to mean they’re not). It’s variety of meanings are more ambiguous than “keep it real”, which can pretty much only be read positively, and it also brings in a tinge of criminality. Though it doesn’t have the same exact connotations as “keep it real”, I think it’s about as ideal of a fit as we’ll get because it’s equally evocative of more below the surface. I also chose “tsu blaybn vitish”, which is “to stay vitish”, as opposed to something like “to make it vitish” to keep the slight ambiguity of time that “keep it real” has -- keeping it real does< I think, imply that there is a pre-existing “real” to which one can adhere, so I wanted to imply the same.

The rest is straight-forward. “Shtup” is one of a few words the Comprehensive English-Yiddish Dictionary (CEYD) gives for “fuck”, and I think it has a nice sound.

Ok, now Russian

женой твой дом наполнен финтифлюшками

чтоб не блудить с пути, ебемся на полу

zhenoy tvoy dom napolnin fintiflyushkami.

shtob ne bludit’ s puti’, yebyomsya na polu

In order to preserve, more or less, the iambic meter, I made a few more changes here -- since Russian, unlike Yiddish, is not a Germanic language, it’s harder to keep the same structure + word order while also maintaining the rhythm. I would translate this back to English as:

“Your house is filled with trifles by your wife. To not stray off the path, we’re fucking on the floor”

So a few notes before we get into the choice of words for “chintz” and “keep it real”. To preserve the iamb, I changed “his” to “your”. This changes the lines from a narration of events to some outside party to a conversation between the two men at the center. Russian also has both formal and informal you (formal you is also the plural form, as is the case in a number of other languages). I went with informal you because I wanted to preserve the fact that his wife has filled his house not their house, as someone pointed out in the original chain (though I don’t think that differentiation is nearly as striking in the 2nd person) and because it’s unlikely you’d be on formal you with someone you’re fucking (unless it’s, like, a kink thing). I honestly didn’t even consider making it formal, but that would actually raise a lot of interesting implications about the relationship between the speaker and the husband, as well as with what that means about the “realness” of the situation. Is, in fact, the narrator only creating a mirage of a more real, more meaningful encounter, while the actual truth -- that there is a woman the husband has made promises to that he’s betraying -- is obscured? that this intimacy is just a facade? Is there perhaps some sort of power differential that the narrator wishes to point out? Or perhaps is the way that the narrator is keeping it real by pointing out the distance between the two of them? there is no pretense of intimacy, the narrator is calling this what it is -- an encounter without deeper significance?

Much to think about, but I actually think the two men do have history --  i think the narrator remembers the house back when it was actually only “his house” and was as yet unfilled with chintz. We also don’t know what they were calling each other prior to this moment. This could be the first time they switched to the informal you. 

Ok moving on, I originally translated it as “твой дом наполнен финтифлюшками жены”. Honestly, this sounds more elegant than what I have now, but I ultimately though removing the wife from either a subject or agent position (grammatically, I mean) was too big a betrayal of the original. The original judges the wife. She took an active role in filling the house. If she were made passive, that read is certainly a possible one -- perhaps even the dominant one -- but it could also read more like “we are doing this in a space filled with reminders of his wife and the life they share” -- the action of filling is no longer what’s being focused on. Why do I say the current translation is inelegant? I feel you stumble over it a little, because it’s almost a garden path sentence. This is also an assset though. “Zhenoy tvoy dom napolnen” is a fully grammatical sentence on its own, and it means “Your house is filled by your wife” -- as in English, the primary read is that the wife is what the house is full of. If the sentence makes you stumble, perhaps that’s even good -- we focus, for good reason, on the relationship between the two men, but in a translation, the wife is able to draw more attention to herself.

Ok, chintz: I chose the word “финтифлюшки” (fintiflyushki), meaning trifle/bobble/tchotchke, because it, allegedly, comes from the german phrase finten und flausen, meaning illusions and vanity/nonsense. Once again, I like that the word has a journey, specifically a cross-linguistic one.

Keep it real: this one, frankly, fails to capture the impact of the original, in my opinion, but allow me to explain the reasoning. “Stray off the path” implies, again, that there is some sort of path that both the narrator and the husband were on before the wife and the chintz -- and one they intend to continue taking, one that this act is a maintenance of. It brings in a little irony, since the husband very much is straying from the path of his marriage. “Bludit’“ can also mean to be unfaithful in a marriage (as, in fact, can “stray”). The proto-slavic word it comes from can mean to delude or debauch -- they want to do the latter but not the former.

As for register -- “shtob” is a bit informal. I would write the full version (shto by) in an email, for example. The word for fuck, yebyomsa, is from one of the “mat” words, the extra special top tier of russian swears, definitely not to be said in polite company (and, if you are a man of a certain generation or background, not in front of women; it’s not that the use of mat automatically invokes a male-only environment, but if we’re already thinking that deeply about it. But while we’re on the topic, i will say that in my circles in the US, women use mat much more actively than men (at least in front of me, who was, up until recently, a woman and also a child).)

Ok i think that’s all the comments i have!

[luvyeni]

ROADTRIP ,, 한지성 이필릭스

pairing ‎⸝⸝⸝ lee felix x han jisung x fem!reader wc. 5k+

genre. smut, b2l, poly relationship

𓄷 iηcℓudᥱs ... threesomes, heavy mxm themes, dry humping, soooo much sexual tension, car sex?, voyeurism, unprotected sex, oral sex ( m. receiving ),

nia's notes. been a minute since i posted a long one and since its the theme is fitting.

ׁ ׅ ୨ ❪ masterlist! ❫ ୧ ⊹ ࣪

although you desperately needed this vacation; you hated packing for it.

“why do i need 3 different bikinis?” you threw the bottom's into your suitcase; felix on the other side of the phone. “because we'll be there for three days, dummy.” you scoffed. “yes three, but i won't be in a bikini the entire weekend; why not two?” you asked. “well one for the beach; two for the pool— wait, why do i need two for the pool?”

“yn i don't know; jisung was the one to say you needed five— no i don't care she is asking too many questions, if you're gonna be a pervert don't invite me in it, say you want her in a bikini all weekend and go.” you laughed at your two best friends. “yn he wants to see you in a bikini all weekend.”

“i-i never said- why do you both do this to me? the boy whined. “i just asked how many bikinis do girls normally bring on vacation? five was just a random number.” he tried to explain himself. “sungie no need to defend yourself so much if you don't mean it, you must really want to see me in a bikini.” you heard him sigh. “im gonna crash this car.”

the three of you met during your first years of university; all of you fresh out of highschool, unaware of what you wanted to do; taking comfort in each other's company, spending the next three years glued to each other, spending weekends and holidays together; studying together, sleeping over each other's apartment everything.

a month before; during the finals, it took a lot out of all of you, so you came up with the idea of going on a summer road trip, staying in an airbnb, and just having fun together.

“we're outside, hurry up , I want to make it to the airbnb as soon as possible, it's still early we can order dinner.” felix said. “okay I'm coming now, let me just grab my hair brush.” you said. “I'll be down there soon.” you hung up the phone.

jisung sat in the back seat, felix using the passenger seat for his snacks for the trip there, watching you exit the door of your building. “jisung watching her like that makes you seem like a creep.” jisung rolled his eyes. “don't act like you don't look at her the same way, don't act like you didn't come to her call at 4am when her air conditioning broke.” the boy responed. “sure did” the boy confessed proudly. “ you don't know how to fix an air conditioner felix.” felix turned back to the boy. “she didn't have a shirt on.” jisung said, you opened the door. “i didn't really care about the air conditioner.”

“what?” you stood there while felix got out to put your suitcase into the car. “who didn't have a shirt on?” you asked. “you.” felix got back into the car. “would you get in the car, letting all the cold air out.” felix said; you ran to the other side of the car, getting into the back next to jisung. “hi.” you smiled at the flustered boy. “h-hi.” he looked out the window to mask his red face. “now when didn't I have a shirt on?”

fellix pulled off; beginning your three day journey. “i’m so excited.” you squealed excitedly. “i needed this, school kicked my ass this semester.” felix nodded, the GPS giving him the directions. “i want to go lay on the beach all day, the whole weekend.” jisung groaned next to you. “that's a lot.” you rolled your eyes. “of course you think so sungie, you hate being outside, period.” you chuckled, tapping his face. “i’m surprised we were able to drag you out of the apartment for this.”

“and miss you in a bikini?” felix commented from the front. “not a chance, you know how much material that is for our sungie that is?” that comment would have offended you; creeped you out if it were any other guys, but you guys always talked to each other like this, flirty banter and touches; but it never escalated— well except that time you and felix drunkenly made out at a house party. “s-shut up.” the boy stuttered out. “don't worry, I didn't bring five , but i bought three i'm sure you'll love.”

the ride was calm after that, felix focusing on driving, occasionally cursing at the drivers; jisung to your right, his earphones in as he took in the scenery. you scrolled mindlessly on your phone, boredom taking over you, you began to fidget— jisung took notice of this. “are you okay?” jisung asked, taking his headphones off. “i'm fine.” you smiled. “are you comfortable?”

“my legs are a little cold.” he watched you rub your bare thighs to keep them warm, he always liked your thighs, the plushness, he would often daydream about how they would feel if he laid his head on them, or squeezed them in his hands— or how they would squeeze around his head while he ate you out. “i-i can tell lix to turn down the aircon,” he said, gulping; trying to free himself from those thoughts. “no it's fine, i have a blanket i can use in my bag, but it's in the back.” he quickly turned around, grabbing the bag. “this?” you nodded, he handed you the pink fluffy blanket. “thank you sungie.” you threw the blanket over your lap. “here.” you scooted over, covering his lap with the blanket. “now we're both warm.”

that was his problem, he was too warm, and being under this blanket did nothing to stop his mind from running wild; which made his body heat up more. now you weren't dumb, you could feel his presence on you, every time you moved your legs he would look at your thighs then you, before turning back out the window— you thought it was cute, he was cute.

he was back to looking out of the window, when he felt your head on his shoulders. “turn the radio up.” you told felix, he did, telling you not so much so he could hear. “thank you lixie.” he could feel the heat from your breath on his neck. “i love this song.” he froze, feeling your hand on his knee. “you like this song sungie?” he nodded, you could practically see the gears turning in his head. “i-its okay.”

he was fucked. he could feel his pants tightening around his lower region, rubbing his knee, all the way up to his lower thigh. “y-y/n.” he whispered, you squeezed his thigh, he grabbed your hand. “n-not here.” He said. “why not?” you whispered in his ear, not really helping his situation. “he's not watching one is watching.” you managed to get out of his hold— there wasn't much of a hold, he barely was putting in any effort to ��restrain you.’ “he can't hear us.” he felt the wetness of your lips on his neck. “and you know want this.”

your hand finally reached where you wanted, he looked down at you, desperation all in his eyes. “you're so hard.” you gasped; “what did you think about all the bikinis you get to see me in?” you palmed him lightly. “i bought them just for you.” he bit his lip, trying not to moan. “or was it my thighs.” you teased. “you haven't kept your eyes off them since i got into the car.” he felt you unbutton his pants, your hands making its way into them, running your hands along his clothed cock. “you're so big.” you pulled his underwear down. “poor thing you're leaking.”

he turned his head as a way to conceal his moans; you took his heavy cock into your hand, slowly stroking it. “fu-fuck.” he hissed as you ran your fingers along his tip. “i wish i could see it.” you said. “i bet it's really pretty.” you squeezed him, stroking faster; he threw his head back, making you stop as felix turned back. “ji?” his head tilted to the side, looking into the rearview mirror. “you good?”

he could barely answer, your hand still on his cock. “ye-yeah.” he stuttered. “my legs are just a bit tired.” he e said, the blonde haired boy turned to you. “y/n?” You hummed. “i'm fine.” he nodded. “we should be there soon.” he turned back around, both of you letting out a sigh.

you turned your attention back to the boy. “you gotta be quiet.” you kissed his cheek, keeping up your movements. “don't want him to hear you cumming all over yourself right?” you said. “you're gonna cum aren't you?’” he nodded. “then cum for me.” you commanded , he lowered his head, letting out a sigh as he came all over your hands. “fuck.”

you pulled your hands out of his pants; his mess dripping from your hands, his mess getting on the blanket. “do you feel better?” he nodded, his cheeks flushed. “you look so cute when you're cumming.” you wiped your hand on the blanket. “so cute.”

just like that you were back to doing whatever you were doing, jisung tucked himself back into his pants , looking around making sure no one saw what you were doing; putting his headphones back on; staring out of the window, you rested your head on his shoulder, innocently this time, closing your eyes, drifting off to sleep; so unaware that felkx knew what you were doing under that blanket, the look in his friend face as you kissed him, stroking his cock, making hard as a rock.

“we're here.” felix pulled into the house driveway. felix got out of the driver's seat. “jisung wake her up.” he grabbed his extra snack before grabbing his bags. “wh-what?” the boy stuttered. “um, because she's laying on you.” he scoffed. “why else would i ask you?” was the last thing he said walking up the driveway, jisung swore he saw a smirk on the boy's face.

“y-y/n.” He tapped you. “yn we're here.” you moved around, eyes fluttering open. “we made it to the house.” you sat up, stretching. “finally.” you said tiredly. “i need to stretch my legs; and unpack before dinner” you said, “you might want to go now, before felix tries to get the better room.” you got out of the car, he got a good look at your ass as you walked up the driveway.

he quickly packed up everything, still holding on to the blanket; opening the door, walking up the driveway as well. “you here finally.” felix said with a smug smile. “you got a good look at her ass?” he folded his arms. “i wasn't looking at her ass.” jisung tried to defend himself. “who are you telling me or yourself?” he walked away from the boy. “close the door on your way in.”

jisung made his way into the house, taking his shoes off, felix standing at the kitchen island unloading the alcohol and snacks you'd need for the week. “this house is nice.” he said , noticing your absence. “what? looking for yn?” felix chuckled putting away the things. “i was just wonder- she's in the bathroom if you'd like to join her.” he turned towards the boy, looking around the room, noticing his menacing smirk. “is it finally clicking?” he said. “i thought it would at least be a day before it happened, but not in the back of the car with me in it.”

jisung wanted to crawl into a hole and die as they teased him. “did you really think i didn't hear you moaning?” felix stepped forward. “jisung i’ve heard you moaning countless of times.” he said, caging the boy against the counter. “i know what you look like when you're cumming, remember?” felixs eyes wandered to his lips, smirking; backing up letting the boy breathe. “don't worry, i won't tell her I know.” felix said, “or what we've done.” jisung nodded. “but if all bets are off like we promised,” he said. “best believe i'm getting something out this week.” he winked. “doesn't matter who either.” was the last thing he said before walking to his room.

after you all unpacked, you joined each other in the living room where felix had chinese food waiting for you both; you talked about what you were going to do; shopping and spending the day at the beach. “and there's a hot tub.” felix said. “really?” you asked. “lets get in.” you jumped up. “i’m gonna go change.” they watched you run up the steps. “you coming?” felix asked jisung, standing up. “to the hot tub?” the boy was stressed, of course he wanted to, but seeing you both in a bathing suit may send him into a coma. “duh; if you are, hurry up and get dressed.” the boy followed behind you.

you made your way back down the steps, outside to the back of the house where the hot tub and pool where felix was heating the water up. “is it ready?” he turned to you, his mouth dropped open, the dark blue bikini stuck to your body— well what little of the fabric there was did. “what if you just take it off, there's no point of it?” felix smirked. “might as well give our jisungie a full peek.”

“you love to blame him, but i think it's you.” you said smugly, walking past him, his eyes traveling down to your ass, getting into the warm water, sighing. “maybe it's you who wants a full peek.” you tilted your head to the side, he chuckled, climbing inside with you , the water coming up to his waist. “please.” he made his way next to you “if i wanted to, i would just.” he stood in front of you, his arm coming to your back, finding the string. “fe-felix.” he smirked. “take it off myself.”

you heard a cough, you both pulled away. “jisung, you made it.” you smiled. “y-yeah, i was having a hard time finding my shorts.” he said. “get in.” you invited , he slowly got into the pool, sitting on the other side , completely different from you and felix; you were practically sitting on the boy's lap. “why are you sitting so far ji?” you grabbed the glasses sitting on the edge, filling the two cups with the alcohol, handing one to felix. “i got you a beer sung , I know you don't like strong alcohol.”

“look at her so caring.” felix teased. “she can be caring when she wants to can't she ji?” felix asked. “always taking care of you right?” jisung looked past you right at him, where he was smirking. “i like taking care of him.” you said, he took a sip of his beer. “you like when i take care of you sung don't you?” he could feel himself getting hard. “ye-yeah.” he stuttered out. “oh like she did in the car?” jisungs eyes widened. “please if im gonna sit here and watch you eye fuck each other im gonna say something, and it's not like she didn't know i saw.”

“i did, i just didn't care.” you shrugged. “why are you jealous?” you now turned to felix. “wishing it was you i was touching?” you floated back over to the boy. “making you cum?” the air had definitely shifted between the three of you. “or are you jealous that i was the one to make sungie cum and not you?” you knew what those two had, it just wasn't your business. “i could make you both cum right now easily baby, i'm not jealous in anyway.”

jisung didn't say anything, just watching as you both got closer and closer to each other , until felix closed the gap; kissing you, his hands traveling down to your ass, squeezing it. jisung couldn't believe his eyes, watching you both make out in front of him, his cock could though, it twitched with excitement.

your hands tangled up in felix hair as he pressed you against the hot tub, tugging at it. “fuck.” he sighed, pulling away; pressing against your neck. “lix.” you moaned, both of your bodies, grinding against each other. “wh-what about sung.” you finally acknowledged the boy in front— felix smirked, pulling away, lips covered in your gloss. “he's free to join if he wants.” the boy turned back to you. “he better make up his mind now, before i take you right here in front of him.”

“um.” the older boy gulped, he so badly wanted to get in between you both, but he was scared. “not tonight.” he said. “im really tired.” he said. “the door is always open.” felix was quick to drag you out of the hot tub. “good night sung.” you smiled. “fuck come on, i’m fucking hard.”

“oh fuck!” jisung couldn't get rid of his hard on, especially when he could hear both of you moaning on the other side of the wall. “fuck deeper lix.” his hands traveled down to his pants, palming his erection. “fuck, you're so fucking tight.” he pulled his pants down , his cock springing , he hissed as the air conditioned room hit his leaking tip.

he wrapped his hands around his base , moving his hands up and down, listening to both of you going at it , it didn't matter who voice he heard , all he could do was imagine what you two looked like; how high pitched your voice got when you were close, how deep felixs got when you tightened around him, letting you know how he was gonna cum.

before he knew it, cum was spurting from his tip , cumming all over his chest and hands. “sh-shit.” he cursed as his hand got all dirty, but he kept going, stroking himself over and over until he could hear both of you cumming, he followed right behind you. “fu-fuck i can't.” he whined , pulling his hand away from his sore cock, he heavily breathed , soft cock sitting on his stomach, covered in his release.

he got out of bed , his post nut clarity hitting him as he cleaned himself up with a towel, climbing back to bed, the sound of you both still going at it as he drifted off to sleep.

he got up the next morning, the house was still quiet— getting up stretching; rubbing his eyes as he made his way to the bathroom. he did his business, brushing his teeth before making his way back to the bathroom, felix standing there made him jump. “i heard you, you know?” he asked.

“we both did.” jisung looked down at the ground. “if you felt uncomfortable you should've said— i wasn't uncomfortable.” he said. “i wanted to join.” he confessed. “so why didn't you?”

“i was scared,” he said. “of what, she literally jerked you off in front of me.” he said. “i-i know , but this is different.” he said. “i just don't know what to do with both of you.” he said. “you just need guidance.” he said , inching closer to the boy. “let us do that.” he took the boys hand. “i-is she good?” felix smirked. “so fucking good.” he bit his lip. “you’ll fucking cum as soon as you feel how tight she is.”

“is she the only one you're desperate to see naked?” the blonde haired boy pouted. “not me?” he now had the boy pressed against the wall. “you don't miss how i feel against you.” felix could feel the boy's cock hardening. “i guess you do.” jisungs hips moved involuntarily, felix cursed; ready to go again. “w-we can't do this out here.” jisung stuttered. “why not?” felix hummed , grabbing the boys waist to steady him as they rubbed against each other. “you're about to cum, i can feel your cock twitching.”

the boy was right, he did know his body like back of his hands. “fu-fuck lix.” he cursed. “I'm gonna cum.” he whined. “then cum for me, no one is stopping you.” felix grabbed the boys face, kissing him hold him up as they both came. “fu-fuck lix I can't.” the blonde stop, wiping the drool from the elders face. “still sore from last night?” he smirked. “fucked yourself to sleep.” jisung whined. “stop.” felix laughed. “let's get cleaned up before she wakes up, you know she likes coffee and breakfast before her day really starts.”

“let's go to the beach today.” you finally had woken up, coffee and breakfast waiting for you curiosity of felix. “i want to get out of the house.” you said, jisung could see all of the marks felix left on you, all the way down to your exposed chest. “sure we can, it's why we're here.” felix sat down next to you. “ji you coming?” he nodded, smiling. “yeah.” you clapped. “great, let's eat and get dressed so we can go.”

after breakfast you all went to your respective room, doing whatever; getting dressed when it was time , making your way to the car. “you gonna sit in the front with me, or you're sit in that back and make our sungie feel good again?” you rolled your eyes, turning to jisung. “i’ll leave him be for now.” you climbed into the front seat.

the drive down to the beach was nice; the air felt good, jisung and felix looking at you and how beautiful you were. felix knew, he knew his feelings the day he kissed you at that party; jisung on the other hand , his hit him like a brick, and he didn't know what to do.

“she really is something.” they both watched you tan from the water. “yeah she is.” felix said. “so we both have feelings for her.” jisung said. “and she clearly likes us both.” felix saw you sit up , looking at them smiling, waving them over. “and us?” the freckled boy asked. “do you like us?” he pointed in between them. “i-i do.” he said. “i really do, i like you both.” felix smiled, grabbed a hold of the boys hand. “well then it's settled.”

you saw them walking up to your towel; hand and hand as they sat down. “and what is this?” you said, smirking. “what was said when i wasn't ear shot?” you asked. “the same thing i told you last night.” felix smirked. “well you know after you regained conscience.”

truth is, after last night, felix did confess to you; and his feelings for jisung. it was like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders , hearing him say that; holding that in by yourself took a toll on you, constantly fighting with your feelings for both the boys. “and?” you looked at both of them. “fortunately for you, you’ll never have to use that useless ass vibrator you keep in your top drawer.”

hearing that he felt the same made your heart swell; never did you think you'd be here today. “let's go back to airbnb.”

the sat in the back with jisung on the way back; you held his hand, leaving little kisses on his fingers. “she can be pretty loving when she isn't horny.” felix said from the front. “well that doesn't mean im not horny, im just really happy.” you said, kissing his cheeks, watching them turn red. “really happy.”

the three of you made it to your airbnb, taking your shoes off outside. “i need a shower.” you said, feeling the sand everywhere already. “join me?” you held your hands out. “both of you.”

you thanked the gods, the people who owned the house had a walk in shower, big enough to fit all three of you. “i fucking hate sand.” you ran the water, getting rid of your clothing, the boys staring at you, making you stop. “are you both gonna just stand there or are you gonna stand there and be perverts?” you climbed into the shower, the boys undressing, getting into the water. “fuck that's hot!”

“you're gonna have to get used it if we're gonna be showering more frequently.” your purred, felix seeing the look in your eyes, forming a plan in his head. “baby why don't you give our sungie some love.” he ordered. “he's a bit nervous about this whole thing.” you pouted, turning to the boy. “don't be nervous.” you whispered in his ear. “we'll take good care of you.” your hands raked down his chest, he moaned as your manicured hand wrapped around the base of his cock. “i promise.”

your hand moved up and down, running your thumb along his tip. “fu-fuck please.” he whined, giving himself to you completely. “feels good baby?” you kissed his neck. “so-so good.” he threw his head back against the shower. “get on your knees.” felix said. “get him off like you did me yesterday.” felix cursed, stroking his cock slowly as he watched sink down to your knees , taking the older boy into your mouth. “oh my god.”

you bobbed your head up and down. “pretty you can do better, take him deeper.” your hands squeezed his thighs as you took him fully into your mouth. “oh fuck , im gonna cum if you keep doing that.” he groaned, you gagged around his length, making his legs shake. “fuck fuck fuck.” his hips tangled up in your hair , pushing you down on his cock, holding it until he came. “fuck im sorry.” he said as you pulled away. “i got carried away.”

“don't worry she likes it, look at her face.” felix got tired of watching, grabbing your hair much like jisung did. “told you, look at her drooling over my cock.” he tapped his tip on you lips. “open.” he commanded. “good girl.” he pushed your head down. “just like that.” he sighed. “love this mouth already.” he held it still as he abused your throat. “fuck.”

felix pulled jisung into a passionate kiss, his other hand grabbing a hold of the boys cock, which was even harder than before. “so fucking hard.” he groaned. “fuck does that feel good?” jisung nodded. “so-so good.” he whimpered. “i-im not -shit- I'm not gonna last.” he felt the sensation building in his stomach. “fuck me too, I'm gonna cum.” felix pulled out of your mouth, stroking himself and jisung. “open your mouth.” he let jisung go. “fuck I'm cumming.” felix groaned , cumming. “fuck!” he cursed , his release hitting your cheeks and lips.

“come on sung , cum for her look how bad she wants it.” the blonde hair boy encouraged the boy who stroked his cock, he looked down at you, your face covered in cum, lips swollen; the boy's cock twitched in his hand as he released himself all over your face.

giving up on the shower , the three of you stepped out ,hands all over each other's as you made a way to the bedroom, the bed getting wet from your bodies as you climbed on top of jisung. “you ready?” he nodded, you slowly sunk down on him. “fuck he's so big.” you moaned out, as you fully took him in. “don't move yet.” felix got behind you, holding your waist. “think you can take us both?”

you nodded, moving your ass against him; this made jisung moan. “easy.” felix said. “don't make him cum before i get inside you.” his hissed as he pressed the tip of his cock against your already filled cunt. “fuck, baby it's okay.” he slowly bullied his cock inside you. “goddamn.” he sighed , you we holding yourself up planting your hands right besides jisungs head, as felix filled your cunt, both the boys inside you now. “wa-wait fuck.” jisung whined.

he could feel it all, the tightening from your cunt, the twitching from felixs dick— it was all too much. “shit if you don't move, im gonna cum.” he said , sweat rolling down his forehead. “told you she was tight, you ready baby?” you nodded. “please move.” all three of you began to move, han bucking his hips up, as you moved your hips up and down, felix controlling how fast you went. “fuck let's speed this up.”

he gripped your waist as he began to fuck into much rougher, all three of you moaning out. “fuck i can feel both of you.” his voice was deep and dripping with lust. “fuck sung your cock keeps twitching -shit- you gonna cum?” the boy below, nodded. “fuck sungie.” you whined, “please cum inside me.”

that's all he needed before he was cumming; your legs shaking as you followed him , cumming; a white ring forming around their cocks. “sh-shit.” felix pulled out, stroking himself, his release sprouting from his cock, hitting your ass and jisungs thighs. “fuuuuck.” he finished himself.

the three of you laid down in felix; fully showered and dressed, your legs tangled up with each other. “so now what” jisung was the first one to speak. “do we just go home after this and never speak of it, or do we actually give this a try?” he asked. “how do we explain this to people?”

it was silent before you spoke up. “We don't explain it, it's none of their business.” you said. “i like you both, i want to be with you both.”

“yeah but people will talk.” felix scoffed. “let them talk , we all like each other and we aren't hurting everyone.”

hearing you both, jisung felt comfortable; knowing you both would protect him. “don't worry ji we both got you.” he smiled. “now what should we do tomorrow.” you asked. “i know what we should do.” felix smirked against your skin. “we aren't staying in the house the entire trip and having sex , I want to go shopping.”

jisung smiled listening to you both go back and forth. “we can easily do both.” he spoke up. “see now that he can have you whenever, he's gonna let his perv flag fly.” felix said , your head resting on his forearm as he ran his fingers through jisungs hair. “st-stop calling me a perv.” he said. “did you give her back the black panties you stole?" you shot up in shock.

“i thought i lost those, i swore i was going crazy !”

©️LUVYENI

[tls12lessthan3]

can i tell you guys about my interpretation of a no-scenarios relationship between kim dokja and yoo sangah. im gonna do it anyway. the thing about a no-scenarios relationship of any kind between kim dokja and yoo sangah, for me, is i really think it would be so difficult for a genuine connection to form between them because kim dokja ultimately dehumanizes and fictionalises her the same way he does yoo joonghyuk. like his specific brand of dissosiation works as him viewing the world through the lens of fiction and he applies that so heavily to yoo sangah when we first meet her. she and him already have some vague form of relationship by this point - i would not call them friends but he moved those cameras for her! he kept her secret! and she knew and trusted him to an extent. that is on top of their teamwork in the job interview.

but we know none of this when we first meet yoo sangah because dokja views her as a heroine who would never cross genres with him, and he erases their history together in the process. he does the same thing with her putting pepper in her boss's coffee - thats not something a perfect pretty heroine would do so we have no idea she did it until she tells us, because kim dokja sort of - filters it out. he smoothes down the edges of her reality as a person and all the 'out of character' things she does into an easily digestible character he can push away as 'from a different genre'. and this is a massive fucking disservice to yoo sangah!! for the same reasons what kim dokja does to yoo joonghyuk is a massive fucking disservice to him!!

shes not a heroine! shes not perfect! shes not from a different genre! shes just a person and she wants to be your friend! i think if they were friends outside of the scenario kim dokja would a) try and push her away and more interestingly to me b) he would continue to try and slot her into his worldview as a 'heroine protagonist' and i think that would really grate on her. especially considering how the role kim dokja creates for her has some parallels to the one her parents made for her. kim dokjas lesson over orv of coming to understand the 'characters' as people is analogous for the one he would need in real life - just like his relationship with yoo joonghyuk couldnt reach its peak until he stopped viewing him as a character, he would need a similar journey of realization to start really understanding yoo sangah. its only then i could see them getting really close.

[tremendum]

heyy, can you write din djarin x reader where she's smth like a princess and he's hired as her bodyguard by her father or brother whatever you want (I know this is basic plot but can't help it 😭) tysm❤️🥰

i got u babes! its cute ive never written something like this but i hope u like it!! <3 its fluffier than anything ive really written to tysm for the request! also this is NOT PROOF READ im sorry

after midnight

(gif not mine!)  pairing: din djarin x fem!reader (afab, use of terms like princess/duchess/daughter)   rating: explicit.  (18+. mdni.)     word count: 6.2k summary: “you were... a princess. you were untouchable, and he knows better than to fall for one of his jobs. so he'd made a tower of armor to protect him from any attraction; but with every passing day he spent in your company, you happened to slip through those cracks like you were made for it.”  warnings: mentions of political unrest/uprisings, reader resents their parents/family because monarchy is BAD folks, threats of death, but smut (PiV, unprotected), mutual masturbation (m&f), teasing, light themes of possession at one point, mentions of eating. cumplay/creampie. i think that's it.

★  

YOU are no stranger to fear. 

it's been a gently lived life for you, in your several decades orbiting the power of your parents' suns.

the duchess of your family's system, the 'Prize Jewel' your mother loves to say; the one who got the love of the people but sought none of the power. 

you weren't the heir, not to the throne: that duty fell unto your younger brother, as per custom tradition. so you were coaxed into a life of sitting around, humming as your ladies in waiting braided your strands, staring longingly as your brother wielded blasters and vibro-blades; as if that is what constituted a good ruler. 

so perhaps the fear you've grown accustomed to is the fear of the mirrors that so delicately lined your chambers; the mirror that appears on your own face as any noble speaks to you, as your father commanded you to embark on diplomatic missions that should be left to those who have any stake in the future of the system. the mirror which constricts any true personality or truth from presenting you to the galaxy. you were the duchess, your parents' daughter; you were not yourself. 

you'd never gone off world, to either of the other planets in the crown's domain - until the day you did. 

that kind of fear was different. 

the tumultuous tracks of your heartbeat when that creaking drop ramp was sealed, those days ago; the footsteps that rang out like funeral chimes as the tall Mandalorian bowed his head to you before escorting you upwards into the cockpit of the ship that was to take you to the other side of the system.  

you were not, though, afraid of him. 

Mando had been your shadow for several months before you left on your enterprise - you were no longer frightened by the cold, sharp angles of his body, the dark rumbling of his scarce voice. now, that same low hum as he listens to you is welcomed. encouraged. sought for. 

no, the fear was from something else; there was a scratching, a slow but insistent simmering that tightened the muscles of your lower back and your upper neck until you woke up in sharp gasps of discomfort.

maybe the fear was in the winding hills that turned into mountains, jagging up and into the sky; your fear clung to you even as you lifted your legs and climbed over top of them - those towers to the sky - and settled yourself with the acknowledge that your parents had sent you on this diplomatic embarkment to a hostile insurgence group with nothing more than the Mandalorian bodyguard and a datapad containing an ultimatum which was surely the fuse to the ticking bomb of your family's dominating sovereignty. the crashing of a scepter, or the squashing of a bug. 

thankfully your father, in all of his Majesty's grace and wisdom, had offered you a full set of your Ladies of the Household on your journey - as if they'd protect you from blaster fire, or kidnapping, or whatever joys may have lied in wait for you once you reached the rebel territory. 

and he knows you are highly mistrusting of those parasitic Mynocks he calls the Kingsguard; that was in fact the sole reason he'd hired the Mandalorian to be your personal guard.

so your father at least had the sense not to call upon the lord commander to escort you, as it would be likely you'd either be dead come nightfall or your cot would be empty come morning rise. 

so he'd insisted on only the Mandalorian instead. 

a fiercely dauntless man, a walking shield, as clever as he is dangerous. 

after seeing him fight, there was no doubt Mando could protect you from hundreds if he needed to. 

there was a stint by another insurgent rebel group, of which your family was battling many currently; they'd made threats on your life, so Mando has shown up with a personal arsenal and enough intimidation to make any man fall to his knees.

it took all of thirty seconds of staring at his figure, hearing his voice, to decide you'd fall to your knees for him, too.

and just before you were ordered to visit the duke of the defecting planet, you were informed he would be replacing the four kingsguard subordinated to Mando who usually escorted you around the kingdom.

one man instead of five? you were sure the King was finally sending you to your death, punishing you for his lifelong regret that you'd not been a son. 

but you soon came to like Mando and his stoic, taciturn presence. 

and at least your instructions were simply to deliver the ultimatum and leave the atmosphere within the hour; the insurgent's strategists would not, as your father and his Hand had believed, have enough time to read through the full terms before deciding they should just break into the duchess's chambers and slit her throat anyways. 

you escaped the planet with nothing but a blaster shot grazing Mando's side and the hate of an entire species of oppressed constituents hurling insults at the Crown.

no slit throat for you - but in the end, you wouldn't even blame them if they'd tried. 

you know, now, that your fear clouded your eyes, as bright as they may have been back when Mando was hired as your bodyguard. but they grew thick, the clouds lifting into the stratosphere and slipping into Mando's helmet with the modulated, quiet inhales you've come to know almost as your own. you don't think he ever intended to frighten you.

he was there to protect you. and he has. 

he has not left you since arriving to the midway planet, where you'll stay for a few days before returning back to your kingdom planet.

here, there is fresh air, the salt of the sea, deep ripe fruits, and warm breezes. there is no fear here, only heat. 

Mando helps with that, though he won't let you admit it. 

as you stare at that unwavering gaze, surrounded by the gilded intricacies of the farewell feast, all you can do is imagine him. Mando, his body on yours, that cold, heavy metal against the thrill of your heated bare skin. he tilts his head slightly at you; you wink at him over your cup of wine. the man next to you makes conversation about your father's latest agriculture subsidies.

you look back to find the relaxing - bone chilling- gaze on you still. you wonder if he'll crack before you do. 

there have been close calls; once, when you'd drank a bit too much ale in the city square and Mando had carried you back to the keep, tucked you into bed as you tried to pull him in with you - you should stay, Mando - the time he'd agreed to teach you to spar and you'd ended up wide-eyed and pinned beneath his very sturdy frame. 

you've seen the pressure on his flightsuit beneath those layers when you'd teased him - his own admission of guilt, that he feels something for you, too.

when you'd asked him to help you shoot a blaster, when you'd left the fresher open to shower, or not particularly covering up when you prepared yourself for the day. though he was always there, always at attention for the slightest danger. 

even last night, you felt the stuttering in his breaths when you'd sat on your bed, staring down at him - his hand in the nook of your knee, the other unlacing your sandals that'd crawled up your supple calves the entire day. you'd felt his leather hands brush against the soft skin of your thigh, the way that helmet had stared up at you from between your legs. at your service. 

you know he could see the way you jolted when he'd place his hands on your hips in passing, or how you'd get particularly flustered at the flip of a blaster trigger, the flex of a muscle under a flightsuit. you didn't try to hide your attraction to him. 

but all of those things; those moments you had - even the subtle brushes of his hand just low enough on your lower back, the smiles you'd share even with the barrier of his cold beskar, the soft conversations you'd hold just between the two of you: all, under the soft shadows of the moons which orbit you. 

never in the broad daylight.

those souvenirs, the ones which you held close to your heart in the last few weeks, high up in the pews of your heart's cathedral; all idolized yet forgotten with the mornings that rise in clean beskar glinting and sleep rubbing from your eyes.  

-- 

DIN is sure you're looking straight through him.

those eyes; you're coy the way you look at him now, over the meal you eat at the table. 

swirling with mischief. 

that trouble-making look, the one he's studied for months as your personal guard. to the constituents of your family's crown, you were the sweet, young girl destined to marry away and sire many noble children. but behind palace doors, you were alive, you were a bolt of electricity that was never to be tamped down.

Din remembers how fiery you'd been when the King had ordered Mando to escort you to the insurgents with your Ladies of the House. you'd requested they not accompany you in this formidable expedition because, as he recalls you'd said, 'how can my bodyguard spare to protect not me but also ten others? shall we just get it over with and behead us all right here?' 

he'd smiled behind that helmet when the King and Queen had heard your snippy tongue.

and so it was just you and him, as it'd been for months. and he likes it that way, as much as he would never admit that; you're a kind woman, much too old to be under the reigns of your parent's power but too caught in the web of bureaucracy to untangle yourself from it. 

Din sees you tilt your head at him, blatantly ignoring the conversation at the table. heat courses through him at your adamant, keen attention on him despite him likely being the least worthy of your thoughts in this room. still, as always, you tease him. 

a drop of a wink; syrupy, sweet, and much too indecent for the public space; much less for you to deliver towards your personal guard. he burns red under the helmet, heat rushing down towards his groin at the way your lips move around the spoon in your mouth. 

you know he's watching you, of course; he's always watching you. it's in the job description. 

maybe that's the problem: he watches too much. it's always been hard for him to remain simply professional with you, but it's been much more challenging the last few nights as he's tried to get a few hours of shut-eye in the dead of night; with your sweet soft breaths on that large, plush bed that nearly swallows you whole. 

it's been excruciating - watching, as you run your hands over your bare legs, kissed by a sweet silk nightgown. massaging your plush skin, slipping just above the hem before dipping down - your lashes fluttering up at him as he stands tall and at attention over you. 

he was a dead man, and he'd known it the moment he laid eyes on you.

you were... a princess. you were untouchable, and he knows better than to fall for one of his jobs. so he'd made a tower of armor to protect him from any attraction; but with every passing day he spent in your company, you happened to slip through those cracks like you were made for it. 

he wonders if the true tragedy after all was his not watching: although you'd left the crack in the door when you'd stepped into the fresher last night, toweling off your soft skin as steam curls round the doorframe and pulls at him like the tentacles of some lust-ridden beast. you'd given him one of those coy smiles last night as you'd slinked out of the fresher: "thought you said you were always watching, Mando." 

you had him wrapped around your dainty, manicured finger and you knew it.

your brows raise at him as you look back up to where he stands, just on the other side of the table, as the diplomats around you at the table buttering you up with a glass of wine, a divine feast, and fancy political phrases. 

it doesn't suit you, as you've claimed to him countless times as you strip the bangled gold from your neck, ears, fingers, thighs and slip into something a little more comfortable and a lot less modest. it doesn't really suit you, he guesses. he likes you much more in the throes of your casual time; wearing trousers and a tunic, blaster strapped to your thigh though you don't quite know how to wield it. when you have no handmaidens to primp you and pluck you, to comb their fingers through your hair or paint fancy colors onto your eyelids. you were heavenly like that, in your most comfortable state. 

that word; heavenly. the word sounds adolescent, when he looks at you.

you transcend beauty; you're alive, you're nothing but yourself, a woman with life and regret that her world bore her name long before she was born. you told him, as he escorted you through the war-torn scrappings of the insurgent city the day before, that you wished to be free from the chains of royalty. to the royal court, you were nothing but a mirror for them to project their desires. 

when you look up at him with those tempting eyes, smirking at him when nobody at the table is looking - Maker, Din swears he will throw away everything he's worked so hard to keep professional. 

-- 

YOU had pulled the best of the feast onto your napkin once you bid the hosts thanks for the feast, hiding it under the layers of your gown as Mando walked you back to your chambers. 

"I kept you some." you offer meekly now, heat painting your face as you offer the spread to him, having taken off your shoes yourself this time. he'd kept his sight on you the whole time, the visor of his beskar piercing you with each movement. 

his helmet tilts in question; you spread open the napkin to reveal the small feast of delicacies you'd packed for him. you wonder how he'd missed it, when his eyes were always on you. 

"you shouldn't have." he's demure in tone, shifting from his casual position leaning against one of the stone pillars near the intricate dressing screen to standing evenly on both long legs; you smile gently, heart fluttering. 

"I thought you deserved some of the feast." you reason, "you did more work than I did, after all." you grin, shrugging a shoulder. you feel the fabric slide over your bare shoulder and it brushes against you like a feather; a ghost of lips that could never be blessed upon your skin. 

cursed to always lie in weight under the heavy support of beskar. 

but his fingers; they're a different story. 

they're gentle, tingling as they brush up the expanse of your deltoid, cascading with a buttery kind touch to return your dress to its rightful place. his hand, swallowed by the leather that protects you so devotedly, trails down your arms, soothing every goosebump that rises in its path. your hand catches his wrist before he can pull away; the tantalizing, intoxicating air in the room rendering him languid as you pull, gently, until your lips press gently to the tip of his thumb.

his breath falters in a staccato as you gently, tenderly press kisses to the tips of each finger; each, a promise. an unnamed affection for the man who does nothing but protect, nothing but exhilarate. the movement feels like the stretch of a plastic band, stretching the tensile strength of your aptitude for waiting, for restraining yourselves. 

you wait with baited breath for it to snap in your faces. 

it doesn't, though. his hand falls away gently, leaving you to still orbit around each other like lonely stars, crossing paths every few blue moons. 

when he speaks, he sounds almost strained. "thank you, ner cyar'ika. you are kind." 

your cheeks are warm and they heat up more when you smile up at him. and this time when you step away into the fresher, you make sure the door is fully closed. 

the water is warm, curling tendrils of milky sweet oils that bathe your skin in a sweet, plush aroma. you return to the main room slowly after you bathe, ensuring he'll have enough time to return his helmet to its proper place before you see. you wring your hair out with your hands as Mando rises from where he sat on the loveseat; his full height shining that reflective metal against you. your warped, clean, scrubbed reflection stares back at you. 

he.... he sees you. 

you've always noticed it; maybe that's why you'd commanded your father's men to leave you at the first sight of the Mandalorian's skills - you see a lot of yourself in him. a life concealed behind the preceding reputation: a princess - young, beautiful, generous, stagnant. a Mandalorian - bounty-hunter-turned-guard, sturdy, resourceful, rough. 

mirrors follow you no matter where you go. they've been thrust upon you your entire life, every snaking hallway of the kingdom winding down reflective images of your youth, bouncing you from person to person, nothing but a blank canvas for the aristocracy to paint their whims upon. 

you suspect, as you stare at Mando's unwaveringly reflective armor, that he understands that more than either of you could know. your heart soars with affection as you pad up to him, craning your neck to take in his entire height. 

"did you enjoy it?" you ask with a small smile, combing your fingers through your wet hair. he nods, "yes, cyare. thank you." 

you shake your head, unburdened by the gesture of gratitude. "let me guess- your favorite was the..." you pinch your chin with your fingers, scrunching your nose as you pretend to think. "chocolate cake." you say finally, tilting your head as you try to gage his reaction. 

a tilt of a helmet, flickering in the candlelight of your chambers. "yes." he sounds surprised; as if you didn't know just as much about him as he knew of himself. it sparks butterflies in your stomach. 

"I know you like it sweet, Mando." you tease, sending him a soft wink as you set your face cloth down on the table he leans against; you stare up at him from this angle, your movements molasses as you smile, hand sneaking around his ribs to hold him lightly. his hand rises tentatively to steady your waist, thumb rubbing the satin of your nightgown. "don't worry, I do too." you whisper. 

he sighs. 

it's a soft, gentle thing; one that nobody would dare imagine your big, bad Mandalorian protector to ever release. but you know him. you see him - Mando is many things, and one of them is hesitant. not unwilling, or shy: hesitant. 

(you'd wait a thousand lifetimes for him.)

"cyar'ika," he starts, tone slipping into that gently warning one - the kind he gets when he's feeling bashful. "I don't like it when you tease me." he chides, and it's - kriff, it's playful. you can almost see the grin behind that helmet; his fingers pinch at your sides gently and you screech with laughter, swatting away his touch but hoping he'll soon return it, much like a magnet. 

"you do, though." you defend, emboldened by the privacy and the budding tenderness that coaxes you into his arms. his hands soothe over your hips as you stare in silence.

warmth surrounds you; coaxes you to mutter it-

"stay with me, tonight?" you whisper, eyes wide at your own words, shocked you'd finally given in to all of the hunger that has swirled between you for all this time.  his helmet tilts. "I am always here with you. my job is to watch you." he says gently, the lilt of guilt ever present in his voice.

you shake your head, eyes shutting in frustration - not at him, never - at who, then? your father? your mother? the last name you've been cursed with for your life? the privilege, the restraint? 

"Mando." you say, pressing your palms flat against his chest. "you know what I mean." your eyes swirl with emotion: please, Mando, I can't keep waiting like this. 

he waits. "it would be wrong." 

you tilt your head, "it wouldn't." but you, much like him, are at a loss for words. a life of inoculation has rendered you unable to express any semblance of amorous emotions, even to this man - the one who is your confidant, your protector, and possibly your only true friend in this world. "I need you. I will-" you swallow, your heart thundering with desire, "I will do anything for you, Mando."  

you can't resist the growing wetness in the apex of your thighs as his helmet moves over your figure, wrapped in a silky robe and still wet from bathing. he hums lowly, a long and slow sound, his head tilting ever so slightly as you clench your thighs in search of relief from the growing pressure. 

"I have wanted you since I met you." he sighs, hands falling from your shoulders. "but... I shouldn't touch you." 

-- 

DIN can see your eyes flicker down as he says it. 

maker damn you; you've always been too clever for him. he sees the hunger swirl in your blown out pupils, the same hunger that plagues his mind and has sent blood rushing downwards. he feels himself throb as you grin up at him, lashes fluttering as a droplet of silky water trails down the expanse of your bare, awaiting neck. 

you know him, you see him. and he thanks all of the stars that you know how badly he needs you, too. 

"well, if you can't touch..." you tilt your head to stare up at him through your lashes, loosening the robe which covers your silk nightgown; each inch that slips down your body, Din feels himself stiffen and heat with desire. "...you can at least watch." you whisper, letting the robe drop before you step back from his figure; his eyes trace over every curve, each smooth line and jagged bump. 

when you're far enough away, he lets out a shaky breath. "gar Kelir ruin ni, dala" he mutters to himself, swallowing thickly as your figure slinks away from him, traipsing onto your plush bed.

his heart thunders in his chest; you lie on your back, gently, eyes meeting his somehow through the shield of beskar as you move your hands slowly, slowly up your legs. silk catches on your deft fingers as you tease yourself, sighing in relaxation. 

Din, standing rigid as a pole as he watches you, cannot look away. you seem flushed, even as your fingers trail over your breasts, toying with the pert nipples which poke through the smooth fabric of your dress. a whimper; high-pitched, breathy as your eyes splinter to Din again. "fuck," you whisper, one hand dragging down to torturously drag the hem of your gown upwards, up, up- 

he's salivating. 

your thighs, plush and welcoming, spread as you spread your glistening cunt for Din to see. for him, he realizes, only for him. a dark wash of possession shudders his whole being as you let out a whimper, the cool air hitting your wet, hot heat as your fingers start to spread your juices; it takes every ounce of restraint from Din to not just pounce on you, take you right now. 

your finger finds your swelling clit and your strangled groan sounds too much like his name - your eyes are hooded, littered with desire and pleasure as you lie out on display for him. 

he can't help but watch; his cheeks, hot. his hands, clenched - his heart, thundering, beating hard as Din watches you touch yourself with hungry eyes. your moans are smooth, melodic to his ears as you slowly dip one finger into your heat, whimpering as the stretch as your greedy little hole swallows you up. 

he can't stand it. 

Din takes a step forward, a staggering, desperate step towards the bed- your eyes snap up from where they'd watched you take your own fingers, eyes blown wide. you whimper, you goddamn whimper it, "M-Mando." 

--

YOU almost pass out when he mutters it, low and baritone. 

"take it off." Mando mutters darkly. 

you stop your languid pumps as you stare up at him, eyes wide as you see him, now looming just over you, eyes trained still on your heat. 

slowly, you sit to peel the dress off of yourself, the material catching on your nipples and sending a shiver down your body. 

you're soon bare; laid out for him, your entire body on display for him as you stare up, chest heaving with desire. his helmet does not leave your form as he watches your hand snake back down, toying with your wetness as it pools out of you, dripping onto the mattress below you. 

there are thousands of things you wish to say; nothing escapes you except whimpers and moans, the muted, heated pleasure swirling through you as you slip your fingers into yourself, pumping languidly. if you close your eyes, you can almost imagine the bite of cold beskar on your bare chest; the thickness of a warm cock slipping through you. 

your eyes stay on him instead, though; the reflection of your squirming, pleasured body on his beskar. you feel sweat sheen your forehead. 

your heart nearly stops as Mando slowly starts to palm himself; his cock, hard and strained against the fabric of his flightsuit as his hands pull himself out of the pants. your eyes widen and your fingers start to pump into you quicker, moaning out Mando's name as his hand slowly starts to pump himself. 

his cock, skin golden and veins prominent as he pleasures himself to the sight of you. arousal floods around your fingers as your other finger falls to lazily toy with your neglected clit. one hand grasps your breast and pinches a pert nipple, your back arching as you whimper. 

you need Mando, you need him. 

"fuck, fuckfuckfuck M-Mando, I need you. i-it's not enough, need more." you groan, the dam breaking as the low high you've been riding simmers. 

he stops his own movements, his chest heaving beneath the beskar. 

"I don't-" you swallow around your dry throat, "I don't think I can cum without you." you admit, heart thundering as you stare up at the beskar wall. "please." 

he pauses and your words hand in the air; suspended by a string, one that is tight and ready to snap. 

"stand up, princess." he orders.

--

DIN almost smiles at the speed at which you scramble on eager legs, to stand up, staring up at him with wanton need. he takes a deep breath before one hand reaches out to graze the swell of your breast; the plush give of soft skin, the goosebumps that trail behind his touch. his cock twitches as your hands find him, pumping slowly as you bite your lip. 

he groans at the soft feeling of your gentle hands around his thickness; your lips grazing over his beskar chestplate. 

his hands tug you as he falls to the mattress; a squeal leaves you as your hands grip onto his shoulders, "Mando!" 

he grins beneath the helmet. 

the smile slowly fades into a grunt of pleasure as you eagerly find your place straddling his hips; your wet hot cunt envelopes his cock with your slick, rubbing him as you whimper. "fuck, cyar'ika." he grunts. "gonna fuck you nice and good. promise." he mutters. 

you smile as you nod, "maker, Mando. I've-I've dreamt of this." you mutter. he smirks- he knows you have. he's heard it. 

but the pride is soon washed away with shock and pleasure as you line his head up at your entrance, easing onto him gently; his hands squeeze your bare skin and he wishes he could pull his gloves off and really feel you. 

dank ferrik, you are so tight around him; swallowing his thickness in your greedy cunt as your breath stutters, gasping at the stretch. you're hot, wet, and Din's eyes shut tight at the feeling. kriff, he won't last long. 

you take him gently, slowly, and all Din can do is breathe through it and resist his hips from bucking upwards and spearing you into two.

his brain is a puddle as you fully sheath yourself on him, thighs plush and shaking as you swallow him. 

"that's good." he mutters, breath shaky, his hands guiding you to move against his hips, "how does it feel, princess?" 

"Mando, fuck, y'so big, filling me-" you're moaning and he thinks he may pass out; heavenly, heavenly, you you you- 

you groan as you start to fuck yourself on top of him, your gummy warm walls coaxing Din towards his high, having been spurred along by the pleasure you'd been giving yourself earlier. 

you shudder at the curling sensuality of his words and he can feel you gripping him tighter and tighter, pulsing around him and dragging him down with you into the depths of pleasure. shivers of pleasure coast down your entire body as Din starts to piston up, his thick length, smooth and hard, spearing into your hot cunt. your desire drips down and smothers the fabric of his flight suit; briefly, he thinks he will never wash them again. your breath is laborious as you near your high- Din chases his, too, because this has already gone on for too long and he's greedy, as greedy as your tight, pretty cunt is and- 

he lets out a splintering moan when you cum with a scream; your legs quivering, weakening as you slump against him. Din fucks you through your high with a moan of his own, pushing up into your pulsing pussy, the wetness easing him to spear into you with a fire of ecstasy. 

"good- you're so good, y'feel so good, Mando," you whimper. that's it for him - he cums with a long groan, release snapping through him with a moan of your name. 

he sees colors, shapes of you in a meadow, spread on a blanket with him taking you from above; with you riding him in the cockpit of his ship; you, thighs spread on your father's throne while he delves his tongue through your plush folds. 

you are his. you will always be his, nobody else's. he will consume you.

he fucks up into you as he rides through his high, his seed smearing your chanel as he holds you close. "fuck," he mutters, rolling you both onto your sides as his hand caresses your cheek. 

"s'good." you mumble, smiling at him. 

he smiles back. you can't see it, but he knows you can feel it. 

"m'not done with you yet, princess." he promises, tugging you towards the edge of the bed, spreading your legs to see his own seed leaking out of you, mixed with your own wet, sticky spend. it's a sight better than any he's ever seen; shivers of desire roll down Din's spine. 

and then Din spends his time on top of you, pulling orgasm and orgasm from you until you're crying, shaking and heaving breaths; he's shaky, drunk from the pleasure of your wet arousal. he aches to taste you, to coax you to sleep with his tongue lapping up your spend; he needs to taste you. 

perhaps, another time. 

he soothes himself for now with his fingers, his cock; another time, he will taste you. 

--- 

YOU are exhausted. you can barely stay awake; but as Mando lays with you between the sheets, you can't help but feel so alive. the sun starts to creep towards the horizon line, over the shimmering sea; the gentle breeze of the world flowing through the faint curtains. 

"Mando?"

he cranes to look down at you, his thumb tracing over your spine.

"in the morning," you start, your hand trailing over his beskar. you figure it isn't comfortable to don this armor in the plush of your mattress; he stays no matter, willing to give you what you want. always, whatever you want. forever.

him.

you chew your lip, "will we- I mean, I just..." 

a thumb, warm though marred with old leather, pulls your lower lip from the clutches of your pearled teeth, soothing over the plush, bitten skin. a shiver runs down your spine as he coaxes you to stare up into that endless helmet. 

"what is it, mesh'la?" his voice is deep and soothing in its modulated baritone. you preen at the nickname in his native tongue and though he has willingly taught you words and phrases of his language, you are unsure of this one's translation. it sounds lovely coming from him. 

"please don't take me back." you whisper. 

he tenses under you; you can feel it. you wish you didn't have to plague him with your burdens of asking him such a crime; to take the duchess, the girl made of nothing but stardust, and give her the life she deserves. 

a whisper of your name. quiet, an exhale gentle and barely picked up by the modulation function of the helmet. 

--

DIN has been waiting for you to say it.

he wonders just about when he realized you were going to ask him to take you away. was it just now, after you'd finally connected in bliss? was it last night, when he'd taken a blaster shot to protect you - his job, of course, but a lifetime of debt to repay to him, you'd claimed - or, perhaps, was it all those months ago? 

your words pull him from his shock as you mutter softly.

"would you take me with you? away?" 

all the moments shared between your two souls wait with baited breath as Din tries to find his words through his thundering heart. 

"in the morning..." he parrots your words from before, but with a different tone. regret. his heart thumps as you tilt your head, bare shoulder glinting in the light of the moons. "will you still want that? will you want..." he doesn't finish the question, but he doesn't have to. not with you.  want me? 

you look at him with eyes so soft he almost melts. "I've always dreamt of leaving my life. it's not who I am." you're firm in your words, hand curling over his shoulder as you blink, "I never thought I would act on it. I had nothing to do, nowhere else to go. but now..." you shrug and he starts to feel hot at the implications in your voice. 

Din's heart thuds importunately under your sweet palm; could you feel it, under all the layers that separated his body from your bare one? 

"if-if you'd have me... it'd be a dream to stay with you. wherever you go." 

Din can't breathe; so many words burst to the forefront of his mind, but all he does is stare in awe. 

you'd been watching life through the jail of your parent's grasp your whole life; and what is the princess of a mid-rim planet to the rest of the galaxy? 

stardust.

"wasted dreams?" you ask softly, shaking your head, "that's worse than death, Mando." 

-- 

YOU fall asleep with Mando's arms wrapped tightly around your middle; the weight of beskar pushing you deeper into the comfort of knowing you've spent your last night ever in this system. 

his words echo in your head. 

in the morning, mesh'la, we will leave here. wherever you'd like. 

it's illicit; the things you're about to do, the traditions which will be seared. your eyes, bleary with exhaustion and hope, looks to the mirror across the room.

you lie in the arms of the Mandalorian, bare besides the plush sheets which wrap around your figures - and when you stare into the reflective piece of decor directly across, it's you who stares back in the reflection. you smile to yourself.

stardust.

those moments, you hope, will shine in broad daylight now in tandem with the sweet secrets after midnight. 

-

taglist: @silkiers @toobsessedsstuff @millersdjarin @tizylish @cloufire @kalea-bane @dontletyourchildrenwatchthis @hello-th3r3 @bbyanarchist @ponyboys-sunsets

-

requests open. message for Din's taglist or Joel Miller's!

-

[enhastolemyheart]

IN THE HONOUR OF SPOOKTOBER, HERE ARE SOME FIC RECS THAT WERE VERY ENTERTAINING AND SCARY AT THE SAME TIME

These fics can be a bit disturbing, so read at your own discretion. contain smut/suggestive themes. warning has been given, pls beware with your decisions.

∞ THE DOLL HOUSE | @ja3yun

synopsis: when you're strapped for cash and an opportunity arises to help you out, you're stuck in a mansion with 4 human-like dolls who do anything but sit still.

BOY WAS THIS A JOURNEY! The concept is just very interesting and i think it is PERFECT for this month. All the dolls have different personalities and their dynamics compliment each other. As you're reading the series, you might fall for jake or jay or sunghoon. nah nah honey, JUST WAIT TILL YOU GET TO HEESEUNG!! it is absolutely insane but i quite loved it! he is ultimately the alpha (please💀) and you might not agree at first but just you wait. I love how they all are so different from each other, like jake is that submissive shy one, jay is your iconic flirty one and sunghoon i believe was cold to the mc at first. and heeseung, he was just a mix of all but nowhere a sub LMAO. if anyone wondering, hoon is my fav 🤭 I RECCOMEND, READ THIS!!!!

∞ DEVIL KNIGHT'S PREY | @/dollyun

HELP SHE'S GONE 😭😭😭 I REALLY DK WHAT HAPPEND BUT I STILL WANT TO SHOW HER APPRECITAION FOR WRITING SUCH AN AMAZING FIC. IF SHE EVER COMES ON HERE AND SHE SEES THIS, HI KNOW THAT THERE ARE PPL HERE WHO CARE ABOUT YOU AND ONE OF THEM IS ME.

it was so so so interesting and horrific but very intriguing all at the same time and I truly loved her fic. ALL PARTS OF IT IT WAS JUST SO GOOD. i remember sending as ask to her saying it was nothing like what i usually read but I enjoyed all through out. I don't remember much but I loved the 'devil games' it gave like mafia irl but no one does anything. in this fic, hee was my fav. ever since he was introduced (i believe he was silver mask), you could just sense the main character energy from his character and the way he talks to mc. there was something about her writing and it was jus very alluring how each character's story was written. my fav was the maze scene (ifykyk). If you love dark romance books, you would've loved this one. TRULY LOVED THIS ONE, I WOULD'VE SAID YOU SHD READ IT BUT WE CAN'T ANYMORE SOO-

∞ I WOULD GIVE UP HEAVEN IF I HAD TO | @drunkhazed

genre. step-siblings AU, pwp, dubcon, love triangle, fluff smut humor angst etc

it's not really as dark (now that i think about it maybe not dark at all) as the other two but i do think it's perfect to read during this season. ik ik it's not one but two step brothers and ppl hate it but hey, give this one a chance, trust me. im not a fan of step-sibling trope myself but this blew my mind. the whole time you read it, you forget they are step-siblings and you have to lowkey remind yourself. i like the plot, it honestly felt like watching a movie and i loved the humor. in this one, its sunghoon. he was just the type to tease and be cocky and behave all push and pull but im all for it. heeseung was sweet and cute, but sunghoon's character definitely dominated over hee's for me. the paris trip was everythinggg it just gave so much potential to sunghoon and he was just all swoony and ughh. IF YOU DON'T MIND THE STEP SIBLING PART, I RECCOMEND YOU READ THIS.

[abnomi]

IDK if i was the first to notice this or not but i havent seen anyone talk about this before!! i love going crazy over colors and now is my Chance.

something subtle but notable about Ralph's design is how he has a teal undershirt. (debatably turquoise or green or something, but it is teal in this post..sorry green/turquoise truthers...)

i wondered for a bit why exactly that was a feature of his design, as it stood out to me for some reason; its a contrasting color to red, his main color, of course, so i brushed it off as an accent.

upon further inspection, however, what does that mean with the knowledge we have of him wanting to be good? or about who he shares a connection with?

green/blue is generally known to symbolize goodness, as its the opposing color to red, a color that can represent evil or danger depending on its context.

as you can see here, this crude caricature of Ralph is lacking that extra pop of color; the nicelanders dont see the good inside of him, only seeing the external deep red hues :-(

it doesnt end there, though. which character in this film is represented by a certain teal color?

someone Ralph carries close to his heart, someone who helped define his personhood and who he is internally. that spunky racer girl who relied on him just as he relied on her. not just a glitch, but Vanellope.

Vanellope represents someone who is able to accept herself and grow stronger because of it, and in exploring her own identity, Ralph took a journey of his own alongside her. she's a figure of love, passion, and resistance. taking this into account, her main color symbolizes the same.

we can also see bits of red in Vanellope's design!

interestingly, the main spots we see it in are her licorice hair tie, the stitches and strings of her hoodie, and the bottom of her shoes.

now i could be overanalyzing this a bit, but each of these features have something in common: they're all used for support. the tie supports her hair, the threads keep her hoodie together, and her shoes let her run around and be a kid safely. yeah, she made all of those by herself on her own terms, but Ralph supports her too, right? shes the heart and hes the practicality.

not to mention the MEDALS OHHH the medals. beware ⚠️🚨 im going to overanalyze this like crazy ok let me be neurodivergent about this

all three of these medals have differences that could mean a variety of different things. I'll break each one down individually:

Vanellope's gift

handmade with love, the medal itself is teal (if we ignore the brown underside). as stated before, teal implies love and resistance. this is also quite obvious due to the gift being heart-shaped.

relating to that last point, notice how he wears it close to his chest? it's practically a second heart to him! what else is close to his chest? TEAL UNDERSHIRT. wow!!! so that love was there with him the whole time!

the ribbon itself is pink, not blue or red like traditional medals. this is less significant, i will admit, but i find it nice how its so simple yet defies what a "real" medal is meant to look like, ESPECIALLY in relation to Ralph's expectations as to what a medal should be.

Hero's medal

It's a reflective gold, something that hypnotized Ralph immediately upon being greeted with it (kind of like a certain racer heeheheehoo)... this is all pretty obvious; gold is for winners, and supposedly, only heros can be winners.

something a little less obvious, though, is the blue of his ribbon. so, why is it blue, specifically? now, this isn't teal, this is more of a royal blue. something similar to Felix's palette... a hero. Ralph treats goodness as something attainable, love as transactional. it's not real, it's not genuine. he wears this symbol of heroism without truly EARNING it.

The cake

notice how the ribbon around his neck is red in this imaginary scene? the medal designed for Felix and his wins? his contrasting color? on Ralph, it's almost indistinguishable from his shirt because he isn't supposed to wear it. it wasn't created with him in mind.

ok ok just one more thing. ☝️ Turbo and Ralph parallel with their color schemes.

red as a color carries a dual meaning. on one hand, it can mean passion, love, adrenaline and strength. on the other hand, it could represent evil, malicious intentions, a warning, something dangerous. both Ralph and Turbo share red in their palettes; something to note, Turbo lacks any cool colors.

Ralph is seen as evil when he is truly anything but evil. the red makes him a bigger target considering his position, but this red relates to him internally on a more positive level. its his strength, what keeps his softer core safe. above his teal undershirt.

Turbo is seen as this intense fireball who's just passionate about racing, a little tough guy who just wants to have fun. we all know that this isn't the case. he is dangerous, he is a cautionary tale, a warning and simultaneously a threat.

considering how much as the two parallel each other, its no surprise that they share a color, one that can be interpreted in so many ways. one that ultimately means the reverse for their roles.