#all their expressions here are also very good

[mv1simp]

Earned It ♥️ - Part 2 of 2?

Max Verstappen x Wife! Reader

cause girl you’re perfect, you’re always worth it, and you deserve it (the way you work it)

PART ONE HERE ♥️

Once you and your loving husband, Max, are finally ready to start trying for a baby, you face your next challenges as a couple navigating pregnancy. After a tricky conception, the two of you are ecstatic to now be five months pregnant. But lately, you can’t help but worry that your husband doesn’t find you desirable when you notice his behaviour changing. You have no idea how wrong you are until Max finds out about your insecurities…and is determined to prove you so very wrong.

Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, goddamn where do I even begin with this one, BREEDING KINK GO BRRRR, size kink, dom! Max, pillow princess! Sub! Reader, lots of emotional pregnancy hormones and max being the perfect husband, explicit mention of pregnancy and infertility struggles, 7K WC

Resting your cheek against your hand, you stare at your husband, who’s too focused on his current task to notice his pregnant wife’s annoyed expression. The 6 foot blonde Dutchman in question is dutifully serving up a perfectly balanced dinner for you, all macros and vitamin groups carefully counted as per the personal nutritionist he’s hired. Setting down the plate of smoked rosemary chicken breast, garlicky herb potatoes and sides of sautéed broccolini in front of you, Max stands back to admire his work. You can’t resist a petty Stop looking so proud, I know you hired someone to cook this.

Max pouts rather adorably at you. Surely it counts if I still paid for it, right schat? Rolling your eyes moodily at his antics, you stab a potato with your fork and munch on it, unable to resist the pleased hmm that escapes you at how flavourful the meal was. Noticing your reaction, your husband uses it to try gain your good favour again. You like it, schat? I taste tested five different cooks before I chose this one, he makes the best chocolate brownies, exactly how you like them with double fudge!

He tilts his head earnestly, looking the very picture of a cute golden retriever with his sparkling blue eyes and soft blonde locks. You sigh, putting your fork down. Normally, your darling husband’s devotion has your heart fluttering and cheeks flushing. But not today. No, today, your husband had gone too far - and you were going to make sure he made up for his mistake. When he nudges you to resume your eating, you needed the extra energy after all, you pointedly choose to ignore him. You instead pat the heads of your two Bengal cats and dog, Arlo, who curiously weave in between your legs hoping to get a taste of the fragrant dinner.

Groaning, Max slumps against the dining table in the seat next to you, his own plate ignored. I know why you’re upset, schatje, Max admits, conceding defeat. Finally, you mutter, picking your fork back up to resume dinner. You were mad, sure, but doesn’t mean you weren’t also going to eat the delicious dinner now that he had started his confession! It’s about today, isn’t it? Your husband continues. When you came into the paddock and I started creating a scene? I’m sorry, I know you don’t like it when I’m being too paranoid with your safety but I had to tell those reporters to fuck right off!

You put your fork back down and stare at Max, your brows scrunched in bewilderment. He continues talking, completely unassuming of his wife's growing annoyance as he explains. The "scene" that your clueless husband was referring to had been your attendance at the Monaco Grand Prix earlier that day. The paparazzi had gone positively wild at the rare sight of the retired World Champion with his arm around his obviously pregnant wife - whom he very rarely brought to F1 events for her own safety these days. He still attended races regularly, given how he coached and managed his own racing team now - but that certainly didn't mean he was going to make his beloved wife suffer the stuffiness of the paddock. But you’d insisted on coming to this particular race, pleading at him with puppy eyes, matching your shared golden labrador Arlo’s identical ones as you held the dog up to double your bargaining power. If your friends and family said Max Verstappen was whipped for his wife before, then they'd say he'd ascended into stratospheric levels of devotion once you became pregnant. He could never say no to anything you asked when you flutter your thick lashes up at him.

So even though he hated the idea of nosy reporters and fans getting up in the space of his adorable pregnant wife, he conceded by taking the self anointed role of your bodyguard. He certainly looked the picture of an ominous guard dog, smiling fondly down at you when you chattered to him or tugged his swollen bicep to pull him towards some food - and then icily glaring at anyone who tried to get too close to his wife. Everyone respectfully maintained their distance, scared off by the Dutch Lion. But towards the end of the race, some of the reporters hadn’t been able to resist coming in close when you’d taken your pearl buttoned cardigan off in the heat. The flowy cream-coloured long sleeved, short dress you wore underneath showed off your gentle baby bump. Paparazzio's eyes gleamed at the hot commodity, their hands twitching to their cameras to snap a highly demanded picture. Your husband’s overzealous efforts during the entire pregnancy to buy out publishing companies before anything could reach print and affect your privacy had left the F1 gossip pages begging for a rare photo of Max Verstappen’s pregnant wife.

So when Max turned to speak to one of his old race engineers, some of the reporters eagerly came a bit too close to you. They startle you with the mic suddenly in your face, asking if you were far along enough to know the gender and had you thought of baby names?

Max notices immediately, of course, his metaphorical guard dog ears swivelling in the direction of the intrusion to his wife’s peace. He’s about to interrupt when someone stumbles at the back of the group - a very common occurrence e in the crowded paddock. Unfortunately, that results in the reporter’s mic nudging against your pregnant stomach.

It hadn’t hurt, just a brief push, really! You were just caught off guard and slightly stumbled back yourself, a hand on your belly instinctively. The reporter is already sincerely apologising to you, and you’re waving them off, saying it was not a problem-

But your husband most certainly isn’t on the same page. He steps in front of you, his tall and broad frame completely blocking you away from the frenzied group, and uses a broad sweep of his muscled arm to push the reporter back. You watch in awe as he snarls at the group, reminding everyone of why his nickname was Mad Max, telling them all to fuck off or he’ll have them banned permanently from the paddock.

So this was the apparent scene that your passionate husband thought was the source of your ire, and was earnestly trying to apologise for now. He'd thought you were upset with him hovering over your shoulder, and making a dramatic scene. But he had no clue how wrong he was about the way you truly felt.

Sure, his protectiveness was something you’d talked about a few times - but that was because of how over the top Max had gotten with his security measures when he found out you were pregnant. Anyone who visited your home who dared to so much as politely cough was immediately tossed outside and told to come back when they didn’t have pneumonia. All of your meals were carefully preplanned and cooked for you, and the new motion activated aircon was always running at the right temperature for "optimal blood flow to the baby" (That's a scam, Max you told him blandly, I'm literally a doctor, trust me.) He wouldn’t let you lift anything heavier than your phone for weeks until you'd triumphantly opened a medical textbook to show him the chapter on importance of exercise in pregnancy. But he would still sometimes grab things off your unsuspecting hands after eyeing them dubiously. Your protests fell upon deaf ears - Seriously baby, I love you, but I’m strong enough to carry my own purse - I specifically took the pink Chanel bag today to match my fit!

You’d drawn the line when he had broached the topic, quite early in the pregnancy, of you taking time off your demanding schedule as a doctor and department head of the Emergency Department. But he’d quickly conceded when you firmly told him there was no way in hell you were going to sit at home, bored out of your mind when you were capable of working the first 2 trimesters at least - even 2 and a half?

It was almost comical how rapidly the blonde Dutchman’s face paled at the idea of his heavily pregnant wife running around the overcrowded hospital. So he hastily agreed to your compromise of working the first 5 months, albeit sulking rather cutely. You'd had to gently remind him to ease off, that the baby wasn't due for months, to which he replied that was good because he needed time to install the 12-point alarm system inside the house. You'd rolled your eyes fondly in response, but run a reassuring hand through his blonde locks, making him exhale and lean into your comforting touch. He nuzzles his face into your neck as you rubbed gentle circles to diffuse the tension in his corded back muscles, enjoying the way he’d almost purred contentedly like a cat. You’d reminded him gently to look after himself, too, and not you and his future child. I’m here to take care of you both as well, liefje, you say warmly.

So yes, you suppose one could say Max had been having some trouble…relaxing during your pregnancy. And why he now thought you were frustrated with his overprotective tendencies again today at the Monaco Grand Prix. But the idiot was being completely oblivious to your true feelings.

Because the truth was that you’d found the way he’d defended you fiercely, both in words and action, extremely attractive. And you’d wanted him to know that too, blushing as you look up at him in awe, biting your lip as he guided you into the car to drive you home with a clenched jaw. There was something about seeing your already gorgeous husband look ready to go to commit manslaughter to protect you that made him even goddamn hotter. By the time you'd gotten back home, you were ready to drag him to the luxurious Californian King bed and beg him to have his way with you. You’d always had a very active sex life as a married couple, sure - but this past year it had gone to new levels when you were trying to get pregnant. It was so exciting to tease out new sides and interests in each other, even after so many years as a married couple.

And now that you were finally pregnant, you found yourself thinking about Max’s gorgeous smile, his big and strong shoulders that led to swollen biceps, his broad chest and thick, muscular thighs that you loved to sit on. You had all the usual food cravings in your pregnancy that your husband would be up at odd hours to go get - including a 2 hour drive to a neighbouring Italian town for a tub of strawberry gelato you insisted you needed that very same night. But the strongest craving by far was your desire to have Max on top of you, inside you, fucking you during the warm, lazy afternoon and then again in the cool night and then repeating it all in the morning with sleepy sex to start the day off. And you were sure Max would have no reservations about fulfilling this particular craving of yours - after all, your husband normally went feral at invitations to have sex, with your coy suggestions and sultry eyes and teasing smiles.

So it had been very unexpected that for the last month or so, Max had stopped having sex with you completely. You’re not sure when you first noticed it, because he did a great job of distracting you at first - initially redirecting you to some other interesting activity when you’d flutter your lashes up at him. And when that failed, he wouldn’t hesitate to make you quickly reach bliss with his gentle, experienced large fingers or his skilled tongue playing with your soaked pussy. He knew just how to tease you for long enough that when you finally went over the edge, you would happily fall asleep cuddled against his warm figure, completely satisfied. His strong embrace would hold you protectively against him, running circles along your swollen stomach as he watched over you as you fell into deep sleep.

But as the desperate need to properly get railed by your husband grew as more days passed, you knew you had to do something about it - or risk going crazy from the intensity of your horny pregnancy cravings. You hadn’t realised how much he’d been redirecting your attempts until today, when you came home from the race. Max still looked furious, scowling about how those reporters needed to learn some goddamn respect in an annoyed tone. Meanwhile, you had moved onto plotting far more pleasurable activities - starting with smiling sweetly up at you husband as you took a seat next to him on the sofa. He sighed, tension easing from your comforting touch, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he wrapped a muscled arm around you.

He was still yapping about some media circus or other when you’d teasingly moved your hand over his bulge, playfully squeezing and seeing if your desires would finally be satisfied by something very thick and hard of his. Max stilled at your ministrations, relaxed body tensing again, gently burying his face into your curls as he took a deep breath in an attempt to compose himself. Giggling as you felt his cock respond to your touch within seconds, you took that as an invitation to slide a small h down the front of his jeans. You knew your husband must be as pent up with sexual frustration at you, and you couldn’t wait to return his favours. As you tuck your dark curls behind your ears in anticipation, bending at the waist towards his lap, you're rudely interrupted by your now rather large tummy in the way. You instinctively winced at the uncomfortable stretch across your bump, which was getting larger each week and catching you off guard in inconvenient times like this. Pouting in annoyance, you swayed your hips back to accomodate the swell of your waist. Then you lowered your head to Max's impressive semi erection, parting your eager lips widely, pink tongue darting out-

When Max had placed a gentle hand over yours and pulled you away from his pants, gently but easily manhandling you upright. You blinked, confused, as he kissed you sweetly instead, cutting off your questioning mumbles with a swipe of his tongue to make you moan. You'd gotten lost in his kisses for a few seconds when he’d got a phone call from his lawyer. His eyes lit up, and he gave you a final, chaste kiss before taking it with a sorry, schatje, why don’t you rest for a bit? You watched him, flabbergasted, as he stood up to go over to the kitchen and animatedly discuss filing a restraining order against SkySports. Why on Earth did your husband seem more interested in fighting some standard, run of the mill paparazzi rats than getting his dick sucked? Your doe eyes narrow in suspicion as you eyed his oblivious figure. This was extremely unusual, as normally Max would be tripping out of his pants in excitement if you offered your mouth up to him. His recent avoidant behaviour finally all came together then - and you realised that for the first time in your marriage, Max didn’t seem interested in having sex with you. It was the longest dry period you two had ever had.

You couldn’t stop the swirling anger, hurt, and now very pressing sexual frustration at your husband’s behaviour. You’d already started to hate the body dysmorphia the pregnancy was giving you, with the extra weight you’d gained and the chubbiness around your stomach and hips and ass all accentuating your already curvy figure. You could always rely on your husband to make you feel desirable, though, with the way he fucked you like it was his dying wish on Earth.

But not anymore, apparently, you think dejectedly, as you tune out Max’s misguided apology about his Monaco Grand Prix debacle. You interrupt him, unable to bear the tension any longer. Max, liefje, you begin, voice soft as your earlier pettiness dissolved to give way to vulnerability. I'm not mad about how you defended me today. Your husband looks at you intently with those gorgeous blue eyes of his, patiently waiting for you to go on. You take his large, warm palm into your smaller one, and slowly run your fingers over his skin, calloused from years of professional racing. You're suddenly feeling shy with how focused he is on you, but your pent up feelings can't go on like this. I - I was more, well, I thought it was really hot how you pushed everyone off me, you confessed, still looking down at your intertwined hands. And then when you looked so mad when you yelled at them - you bite your lip at the memory. When you finally meet your husband's eyes again, you find a cocky gleam in his eyes as he noted the way you pressed your thighs together.

Oh, schat, did you get all wet and bothered at seeing me protect you? Max's voice deepened as he teased you with a knowing smirk. You swallow, nodding at his dirty question, your earlier defiance completely gone as you look at him almost pleadingly with desire in your doe eyes. He pulls your smaller frame into his broad chest with a tug from his strong arm around your waist. And as you find yourself on his lap you're breathily telling him how much you want him, need him-

He hmmms approvingly as he gives you a deep kiss, saying he was sorry the two of you'd gotten interrupted earlier, he was very happy to continue where he’d left off. Purring into your ear and making you gasp, he asks you if you wanted his fingers or his tongue first?

You desperately tell him you only wanted one thing - No, no foreplay, I’m so wet already, ju- just need you, Maxie, you ask brazenly as you run your manicured hand down his toned front and just over the waistband to his sweats. And to make sure he’s absolutely certain about what you were asking for, you boldly tell him you wanted his cock, inside you, right now!

Max flushes at your heated demand and it sends a flutter through your aching core. You love being able to catch him off guard! But just when you think you’re finally getting what you want, he slows his wandering hands down and gently murmurs that he’ll make you cum on his thigh first then, schat-

And there it is again - the cold sting of rejection from your husband as he once again hesitates to properly fuck you. Why do you keep doing that? you ask directly, trying to keep your voice steady but your hurt tone still comes through when your lips tremble. You knew how this would go - he would just overstimulate the hell out of you with his thigh and make you cum more than once, exhausting you before you could even get to feel him buried inside you the way you needed him the most. It’s what he’s been doing this entire month.

Max blinks at your abrupt mood change, his expression surprisingly too difficult to read despite the years of marriage you share. Scatje, he says soothingly, trying to reassure you, that’s not it, I just don’t want you to be uncomfortable-

You glare at him now. You do know him well enough to pick up on when he was lying to you - he’s always been horrible at that, after all. You cut him off by suddenly standing up and stalking off to your shared bedroom, saying that you were going to bed and didn't want to be disturbed. It’s a bit dramatic of you, sure, but you can always blame it on the pregnancy hormones - your new favourite excuse. You almost slam the door when your husband calls out that you had barely eaten dinner, his deep voice laced with concern.

Puffing your cheeks as you reply you'd eat later, you slowly close the door instead, feeling guilty that Max was so caring towards you even when you were being dramatic about not getting laid. Changing into a comfortable satin nightdress, you end up sinking into the plush bed, suddenly tired from the overthinking and sexual frustration that's been building up within you. Maybe you’re being unfair on Max, you think sleepily. Maybe he was just caught up in his own worries and anxieties and that’s why he couldn’t focus on anything else - like your normally positively sinful sex life.

After all, he had good reason to worry - because despite your excitement at finally being on the same page about the next stage of your marriage, actually getting pregnant had been far from easy. Of course, you hadn't expected it to happen straight away, knowing it would take a couple of months at least. Your medical textbooks stated the average couple took around 6 months, even! If anything, you and Max were glad for the time you had to thoroughly fuck each other, long and hard. Every fleeting touch, stolen gaze over a dinner with friends would result in you both practically ripping the clothes of each other and rolling around in the Egyptian cotton sheets. Soon you barely even made it to the bedroom - with him taking you in the entry corridor of your home, obscene noises filling the air as his hips unwaveringly pounding into your dripping cunny and you desperately moan his name from where he had you pinned against the wall. It was thrilling, this new rush and desire for all your lovemaking to result in an actual baby.

You'd unlocked a breeding kink of Max's that he hadn't truly realised the extent of - until he saw you cooing at his baby niece who was being rocked in her Uncle Max's arms. Looking down at the scene of his pretty wife smiling at a child who looked just like Max made the Dutch Lion unable to resist the temptation of having you right there. He'd handed his niece back to his sister and attempted to appear subtle as he all but hauled you off upstairs from the rest of the family barbecue. You'd been confused but as soon as he led you into a small office, locking the door behind him, you recognise the dark gaze he hungrily eyes you with. Even you'd lost your normally sensibilities when your husband acted like this, and you willingly spread your soft thighs for him to bury his raw, aching cock into. He fucked you on the wooden desk, a large palm clamped over your drooling lips to keep you quiet. You must have cum at least twice from the way he murmured darkly how good you were going to look pregnant with my child, that's right, gonna be a good vrouw for me and take all my cum, yeah?

So 6 months practically flew by, the two of you thoroughly enjoying yourselves. But when it hit 7 months, and suddenly you couldn't help but notice how all your friends and cousin sisters and in laws seemed to be getting knocked up. It seemed everyone you knew had become pregnant at the drop of the hat - your childhood best friend, your favourite coworker - and even your neighbour's cat, after her and your household cat Jimmy had a rather scandalous affair themselves. Although you'd try to fight it, you couldn't stop the sinking feeling of guilt, of feeling like you weren't good enough for Max, for your future family. It chipped away at your confidence everytime you would tell Max that you were on your period, like clockwork on the same day each month. And your husband remained as considerate as ever, tactfully not asking if you were late this month unless you brought it up yourself - even though he knew your cycle like his own steering wheel by now. You felt too overwhelmed to talk about how much of a failure you felt to Max, who had remained the perfect, devoted husband.

But you hadn't been able to hold it together by 8 months, because this was when your period was finally late. You kept holding your breath, waiting for it to come the next day or the day after - but it never did. And two whole weeks past, and for the first time you let a bubble of hope rise in your chest. Max kept looking at you curiously, noting how you seemed a little happier for this time of the month than usual, but waited for you to come to him yourself. And you almost had that weekend where you were attending yet another friend's gender reveal party, and had seen Max bend down on a knee to sign something for one of the excited kids who spotted the ex Redbull champion. You'd been unable to resist grinning at the sight of multiple toddlers swarming the 6 foot Blonde who handled them rather impressively. He's going to make sure a good father someday, your friend giggled to you by your side. You hmmed in agreement, finally feeling excited about the possibility of you two becoming parents for the first time in weeks.

So that evening, when Max had gone out to meet some of his mates, you committed fully to the bubble of hope and brought a pregnancy test. But after those five minutes were up, your world came crashing down again as the lines read negative out to you. You're not sure how long you ended up sitting on the cold bathroom marble, staring blankly at the stick, your mind running a million miles a minute as you anxiously overthink, But it must have been quite a while, because you're only distracted when you hear Max's knock on the bathroom door, and his worried voice saying Schatje? I'm coming in, you aren't replying-

And as soon as your husband walked in, his soft, blue eyes taking in the heartbroken expression on your face and the pregnancy test at your feet, you couldn't hold it together anymore. Max's own heart broke at the sight of his wife bursting into tears, sobbing and confessing how much of a failure she was, how this is the only thing he wanted and she couldn't give it to him, how she was so sorry-

He'd gathered your shaking, petite form into his comforting embrace and ran soothing motions all up your back as he murmured reassurances to you that it was okay, he was here and you two would get through it together like you always did. When you'd finally managed to stop sobbing, now just sniffling, he wiped the tears off your face as he firmly told you that none of this was your fault, and you had nothing to blame yourself for. It was all just a matter of time and luck, and at the end of the day he didn't care about what happened in the future - what truly mattered was that you were happy.

You'd nodded shakily, doe eyes rimmed with red as you let him carry you to bed. He held you extra tightly that night, until you'd fallen asleep in his arms after crying yourself to exhaustion. You had started feeling better by month 9, with some of the heavy expectation you'd put on your shoulders easing off now that you'd opened up to Max about how you'd felt. Your late period had already come and gone, but you didn't find yourself falling apart at it like last time. Taking it as a promising sign, your husband insisted that the two of you take a week off and relax of the Sicilian coast.

You finally felt like yourself for the first time in a while again, closing your eyes and enjoying the sun beating down on you, drying you off after the refresing swim you'd had in the turqoise waters. Max emerges onto the deck himself, shaking his hair and making you laugh as your dog Arlo does the same next to him. Truly, he was such a golden retriever, all tall, blonde and handsome. You couldn't help but feel your heart swell with gratefulness that you'd found the perfect husband to complete you. Grinning at the sound of his wife's genuine laughter, Max plops down next to you, resting his soft locks comfortably on your plush thighs as he snoozes.

And that evening, when you two made love, it felt different somehow. The months of high intensity, filthy and desperate sex had been fantastic, of course. But there was just something about the slow, sensual pace of Max's lips moving their way down your bare waist, his intense blue eyes watching you closely as he buried his head in between your thighs, right there on the yacht deck. You moaned as your small hands entangle in his golden hair, and let yourself get lost in the dizzying waves of pleasure without any thought of needing to get pregnant.

You taste different, your husband murmurs suddenly, his husky Dutch accent sending shivers to your throbbing core. You flush at his words, comfortable enough with him to swat his head with your thigh, indignantly replying that No wife wanted to hear that from her husband when he's going down on her-Oh! Fuck!

Your protests are cut off abruptly as he gives your dripping pussy another teasing lick, an almost thoughtful expression on his face. I didn't say different is bad, he counters smugly, enjoying the sight of rendering you speechless with his tongue. You always taste good, schat, but right now - he presses that large, Dutch nose of his that you adore right into your dripping pussy - you taste even sweeter than normal...like honeydew.

Of course, Max had always enjoyed eating you out your whole relationship. But that week on the Sicilian coastline, he seemed even more entranced than usual, wanting to have you for breakfast, lunch and dinner, saying that you just tasted sweeter and sweeter each time. Not that you were complaining, of course - he definitely knew what he was doing when he deftly untied your bikini strings to bury his face in between your soft thighs. It wasn't until a couple of weeks later that you'd realise just why you tasted so different to your husband. When a bout of vomiting that you'd returned back to Monaco with and thought to be a tummy bug from dodgy seafood didn't stop, you realised that you'd somehow missed your period that month, too. The vacation Max had planned for you had certainly gotten your mind off trying for a baby a little too well, it seemed - so much so that you’d stopped tracking your cycle.

So when your husband finds you on the bathroom floor for a second time, staring in shock at a pregnancy test in front of you, he immediately is at your side. He hugs you tightly again, making you secure in his embrace and stroking your curls as he tells you please don’t cry again, schatje, I can’t bear to see you like this, it’ll all be okay, we can try other options or always adopt-

You laugh, still in a state of disbelief, the noise muffled against his muscular chest. No, no, Max, I’m actually okay this time, you say as you pull away, smiling up at him. Oh, he says, blinking at you with worry, not looking convinced. Are you sure?

You nod, unable to control the ecstatic grin that appears on your lips. Yes, liefje. I’m positive. And then your husband sees the pregnancy test you hold up for him, the proof of your marriage’s perseverance over these past months as two lines. His jaw drops open, and you giggle at his expression. This is my third one today, it’s definitely real, Maxie. Finally processing the news, he laughs with delight, embracing you tightly again as happy tears filling his pretty ocean blue eyes as he tells you how excited he is.

So now, 5 months later and in the present, you suppose Max was still on edge with how fragile you’d been at the start of your pregnancy. But you’d been so stable and healthy throughout it, looking after yourself and of course having a very dedicated husband who watched your nutrition and daily gentle exercise like a hawk. There was no reason for him to still be concerned about your safety, you think sleepily as you sink against your soft pillows. Your mind drifts to sleep as your overthinking tires you out.

You wake up with a gasp sometime later, breathing heavily as you stare at the moonlit ceilingas the intense dream you’d been having replays again in your head. Hazy visions of strong hands holding you down as his wide cock fucked into you, a deep accented Dutch voice crooning in your ears that your sweet cunt treated him so well, it was just made to take him perfectly, hmm? You’re not sure how much time has passed, but it must only have been a couple hours when you turn the warm bedside lamp on and see your husband hasn’t come to bed yet. The stinging feeling of rejection fills you again, even though you knew Max was probably just relaxing with a video game out in the living room after the emotional rollercoaster you'd been hitting him with today.

But the pregnancy had definitely sent your insecurities into overdrive, and you’re starting to sniffle and you quickly try to muffle your sobs with a palm to your trembling lips. You can’t hide from your ever observant husband, though. A small line of light shines into the dim bedroom as Max cracks open the door, entering with a hopeful look and to ask if you were hungry yet.

At the sight of his teary, pregnant wife sitting up in bed, he’s at your side looking at you with concern. What’s wrong, scatje? He asks, an undertone of urgency in his usually calm voice. Are you hurt? In pain? Is the baby-

I’m fine, Max, we’re fine, you say through the tears, trying to swallow the lump in your throat. I'm sorry I've been acting so crazy all day. God, I’m so stupid, I don’t understand why I’m feeling like this when you’re being such a good husband-

Hearing your self deprecating words, he reassuringly you with a gentle kiss to your forehead, calming down your anxiously beating heart. Tell me what’s happening, schatje, he encourages earnestly, validating that your feelings weren’t silly to him. Although you’re still shaking slightly, your breathing starts to settle as your brown doe eyes look up into his intense blue gaze. I had a dream, Maxie, you breathe, focused on him completely as flashes of the erotic wet dream you’d had return. I had a dream, and you were in it, and- you bite your lip as desire pools in your core - and you were in me, and it felt so, so amazing, and I don’t get it, why don’t you want to have sex with me anymore?

Your husband’s eyes go wide in surprise at your question as you continue. Is it - you sniffle - is it because I’m too fat now? It is, isn’t it? You don’t find me pretty like this? Max is bewildered, not having guessed this was the reason why his wife had been feeling so upset today. He’s pulling you against his strong chest, rubbing soothing circles along your back to calm your jerky breathing down fully. Oh, my sweet vrouw, I’ve been ignoring where you needed me the most, hmm? His comforting, deep voice murmurs reassurances about how you were absolutely beautiful in the pregnancy, having already been the most gorgeous wife but now, you genuinely glowed. Remember the valet at dinner last week who walked straight into the revolving door when he saw you? Max jokes, making you giggle through your tears at the memory of the gawking young valet. Wiping your tears away with a gentle stroke of his thumb, his gorgeous blue eyes look at yours intently as he agrees that he’s been holding back lately. But given how quickly things in bed can get…a bit rough, Max says, cheeks adorably flushing and making you grin, he wanted to avoid anything that could hurt you and the baby. Especially because I don't think I can hold back once I start, because seeing you pregnant with my child has been driving me wild.

Your heart swells with love at your ever thoughtful husband. But his sweet intentions are not needed right now, and you tell him this as you wrap your arms across his broad shoulders. Maxie, you say warmly, your doe eyes blinking up at him with adoration, you know that having sex isn’t going to hurt the baby, right? Even when he didn’t believe your textbook, your literal gynaecologist said there’s no problem.

I know, I know, your husband says, his ocean blue eyes looking at you a bit helplessly. It’s just that I can’t bear the thought of hurting you in any way, the pregnancy was already hard for you at the start and I-

You cut his worried rant off by drifting your small hands across his swollen biceps, to his own large palms. Have you not found it hard to be apart like this, liefje? you ask him directly. Biting his lip rather sexily, your husband’s gaze lowers to where your juicy tits, already having grown larger as your pregnancy went on, bounced enticingly with every breath. You don’t miss a beat, guiding his warm palms from your waist to your delicate collarbones, where you help him slip your skimpy nightgown off your shoulders.

Max’s eyes go dark with desire, and you find a similar need throb in your pussy at seeing him like this. Finally, there your lion of a husband was, the one who acted like he would willingly go to war for one more night with you. You tell him, sounding breathless from how excited you are, about all the times you’d fantasized about him fucking you daily on the sofa, on the dinner table, even that time at dinner last week when he'd worn a fitted shirt and you’d considered begging him to have his way with you right there in the restaurant bathroom. Max groans from your heated confession, and you feel him rapidly hardening underneath you from where you’re sitting in his lap.

It’s been - he swallows, his hands now brushing towards your tempting chest to play with your swollen nipples - it’s been so fucking hard, schatje. You have no idea how sexy you look like this. God, I wanna fuck you so much that you end up pregnant again.

You laugh at his confession now, finally feeling at ease knowing he had been wanted you just as much as you had. You’ve been holding back on me, my dear husband, you tease, peppering his flushed cheeks with gentle kisses. You’ll make up for it tonight, please? Fuck me properly and make me cum around your cock? You finish your naughty demand with a playful grind of your damp panties against his now impressively hard erection.

Strong hands hold your thick hips securely to put an end to your games. You flutter your eyelashes up at your husband who’s looking more and more hungry by the second, and growls out that his sweet little wife was actually a desperate slut wasn’t she? You gasp excitedly at his dirty words, knowing you’d finally broken the last thread of self control holding him back. Max lifts you easily off his lap, pressing you back against him so his husky voice murmured right into your ear from behind. I forgot how addicted you are to being fucked by my cock. Been dreaming about it for weeks, like a good girl, hmm? You nod furiously, whining out yes, yes, please Maxie’s as your head spins in dizzying pleasure. The swell of your chubby ass rubs against his cockhead as Max easily yanks your lace panties off, joining his hastily abandoned sweatpants on the floor.

Rough hands palm your soft thighs, growling lowly that your ass had been getting so fat lately, it drove him mad everytime you bent over in your flowy minidresses. When you can’t resist grinding back on him invitingly again, he gives you a few gentle smacks and you yelp excitedly. Been wanting to hit it from the back so fucking bad, your husband breathes, as his hand doesn’t leave your ass after his third slap, instead grabbing the bouncing flesh firmly with his large, strong palm. M-Max! you’re so turned on at his dirty confession. You two barely need any foreplay, having already been on a frustrated edge for the whole month, and Max’s large cock easily starts slipping into your dripping hole. You’re comfortably laid out on your side, his toned chest pressing into your back and your combined moans mix as he sinks home into your welcoming cunny.

The position lets him easily thrust half his impressive length into you, controlling the slow pace so you only feel blinding pleasure without a hint of any uncomfortable stretch. I’m not gonna last, Maxie, it feels so good- Ah! Your desperate whimpers are cut off as his hands move to play with your lush, bouncing chest, the pregnancy having enhanced your curves. And these tits, schatje, they’re so pretty for me. You’ll be a good girl and let me fuck them, won’t you?

Your pink lips are parted as you pant in pleasure from his skilled fingers toying with your over sensitive nipples. Yes, Maxie, whatever you want, you whine desperately. You can even cum on them, okay? This time you’re the one making him moan with your words and his hips stutter as he pictures his creamy release dripping all over your large breasts.

He makes you cum then, when he slowly sinks a deep thrust in fully, letting you feel the wide stretch of his cock, making you gasp and throw your head back against his shoulder. Your breathless, high pitched whines are captured by his mouth as he moves his tongue languidly against yours, murmuring how good you did for him, the most perfect vrouw he could have asked for as he talks you through your mind numbing orgasm. He barely lasts a few seconds after you, letting out a Oh fuck! Gonna cum, schat- as your tight, warm pussy clenches around his raging erection and milking him for every last drop.

Heavy, content breathing fills the room as you both come down from your highs together. Your small hands intertwine with his as you smile tiredly at him, where he rests his flushed face against the swell of your chest. Did I satisfy your craving, schatje? Max says with a teasing smile, still breathless. You run your fingers affectionately through his damp, tousled hair. Not even close, baby you say, equally breathless. You know how strong my pregnancy cravings are.

Your husband laughs, the warm sound making you giggle as well. Challenge accepted, schat. Be careful what you wish for.

_____________________________________________

A/N: dedicated gentle husband max who switches up when you rile him up drives me FERALLLLLL hope it does for you too <3 Sooo many of you requested this im so glad you liked part 1!! thoughts on part 3 with soft dad max?? (Im writing this anyway regardless of what yall say ahahaha) 🫶🫶

[smol-warrior-1258]

Not to mention the reason why adults can be so bad about discussing certain 'difficult' topics is precisely because they didn't have exposure to those topics as children and/or because topics like race, inequality, sex/sexuality, etc are so heavily censored that the entire topic becomes taboo. If you spend your entire development having your very reasonable questions about the world be shushed rather than answered, it takes a lot to start asking them again as an adult.

Sesame Street in particular has spent more than 50 years now handling complex topics in an accessible way for children with a range of backgrounds and across a remarkable age range. It also allows kids to see diversity that they may not actually having in their particular town or city in a totally non-judgmental setting. Moreover, it provides that service for parents who may not have the tools/resources to have those conversations with their kids on their own.

This kind of programming is designed to help make sure the next generation is kinder & better than the one that came before no matter their circumstances. Opposing Sesame Street - and other children's programming with similar aims - can only come from a place of fear that having open and informative conversations about complex real-world problems will diminish the power/influence that people like Dave Rubin thrive on.

As a side note, and in the spirit of meeting children where they are with any topic, here is Mister Rogers' guide to simplifying any idea for children:

1. “State the idea you wish to express as clearly as possible and in terms preschoolers can understand.” Example: You can get hurt running indoors. 2. “Rephrase in a positive manner.” Example: Running outdoors is safe. 3. “Rephrase the idea, bearing in mind that preschoolers cannot yet make subtle distinctions and need to be redirected to authorities they trust.” Example: Ask your parents where you’re allowed to run. 4. “Rephrase your idea to eliminate all elements that could be considered prescriptive, directive, or instructive.” Example: Your parents will tell you where it’s okay to run. 5. “Rephrase any element that suggests certainty.” Example: Maybe your parents can tell you where it’s safe to run. 6. Rephrase your idea to eliminate any element that may not apply to all children.” Example: Maybe your favorite grown-ups can tell you where you can run. 7. Add a simple motivational idea that gives preschoolers a reason to follow your advice.” Example: Maybe your favorite grown-ups can tell you where you can run. Listening to them is good. 8. “Rephrase your new statement, repeating the first step.” Example: Maybe your favorite grown-ups can tell you where you can run. Listening to them is important. 9. “Rephrase your idea a final time, relating it to some phase of development a preschooler can understand.” Example: Maybe your favorite grown-ups can tell you where you can run. Listening to them is important and listening is an important part of growing up.

[fuctacles]

<<😺😺😺😺😺😺😺

"Yes? Hello, officer? There's a man in my apartment." 

Eddie stirs awake, his surroundings coming back to him in hazy waves.

"What?" he slurs out, blinking to clear his vision.

"Oh, I was just telling the officer that I've found a man sleeping on my couch," Stephanie says with a troubled expression, hovering over him.

Over the couch that he fell asleep on.

He sits up so suddenly he loses his balance and falls back against the cushion.

"I'm so sorry, please don't call the cops—!"

Stephanie immediately shakes her hands, which are free of a phone.

"I was joking, I was joking!" she reassures him quickly. "I'm sorry." She smiles apologetically, taking a seat next to him. "I guess that wasn't the best way to wake up someone." 

"No," Eddie chuckles awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Especially not an ex-drug dealer," he huffs dryly. 

Steph cocks her head with a surprised "huh" and only then does Eddie realize what he has just blurted out. 

"Ah, shit. Am I ruining my good neighbor status?" he winces.

"Not at all," Steph shakes her head, and gently pats his knee. He zeroes his focus on her hand when she decides to rest it there on his jean-clad leg. 

"I know my nice neighbor Eddie, not the drug dealer one," she smiles reassuringly. "What made you turn around? If you don't mind me asking," she squeezes his knee and retrieves her hand to lean back more comfortably on the couch. One of her cats, Garfield, jumps on her lap for a greeting, and Eddie realizes she's still wearing her jacket. He looks at the clock on the wall and realizes it's almost midnight. 

"Sorry, I'm holding you back, you're clearly tired," she backtracks quickly, watching his eyes dart around. But Eddie shakes his head.

"Nah, I just took an invigorating nap." She laughs at that and he can't help but smile as well. "I'd assume you're tired after traveling."

"I took an invigorating nap on the bus," she smiles, petting her cat. Arwen finally decides she's not above greeting her human and jumps in next to her as well, occupying Stephanie's other hand. 

Eddie reminds himself not to get jealous of felines.

"I managed to graduate," he says and when Steph looks at him in confusion, he adds: "I dealt in high school to save money for my band, thought that was my only route. But then I did graduate, on my third try, and the art teacher pulled some strings, asked around, and told me I could go study music. The guys forced me to go for it," he smiles at the memory. "My band, I mean. They said at least one of us should know some theory," he chuckles. 

"That's very nice of them," Stephanie comments. 

"Yeah. The bastards followed me after high school too." He grins. 

"And I still haven't heard your music," she sighs wistfully. 

"I'll bring a tape next time," he promises. 

"You better."

They sit in silence for a while, only the cat's purring filling the night ambiance. 

"Want some tea?"

"I guess I should go."

They speak over each other, eyes wide when they meet awkwardly. They chuckle, and Eddie can feel his cheeks warm up.

"Or I can get us a beer? Since you're not an old lady," she offers, spotting the empty bottle on the table. "Unless you really need to go."

"Beer sounds good. Considering there are no old ladies here," he smiles charmingly, daring her to protest. 

Steph doesn't say anything, only rolls her eyes and gently nudges Garfield from her lap onto the couch cushions. She scratches Eddie's head when she passes, thankfully missing the way it causes his whole body to shiver. 

"Won't your uncle be worried where you are?" she asks from the kitchen, giving Eddie the space he needs to collect himself. 

"I told him I'd wait for you," he answers, scratching Garfield and trying to forget how good it felt when done to him. "Also, I don't have a curfew anymore. Never had, in fact. Not with Wayne."

"Lucky you." She steps back into the room, handing him a chilled bottle. "How long have you been living with him?"

"Since high school," he answers before taking a swig. "Spent a short time in a halfway house before that. My parents couldn't handle me anymore, but they managed to reach my uncle and he took me in."

"The hell do you mean 'couldn't handle you'?" Steph asks with a frown.

Eddie chuckles at her immediate offense.

"They got into legal trouble, and couldn't afford the house anymore, I think my dad spent some time in prison too. Tax fraud and shit, never cared enough to dig into it and Wayne doesn't like talking about them either. He's a better parent they'd ever be anyway."

"Yeah," Steph softens. "I'd love to have had someone like him back in the day." Then, she deflates with a sigh. "Though even the nicest people can turn out to be bigots. Not Wayne, of course!" she rushes to add. "He knows about Robin and he's really cool about it." 

Eddie sees his opening and feels comfortable enough to use it finally. 

"He better be, since his nephew is bisexual," he says with a little huff. 

"He is?" Steph picks up curiously. 

"Yeah," Eddie scratches his cheek, suddenly sheepish. "Turned out I wasn't watching Indiana Jones for the plot."

"I think that sweaty chest is plot enough," she says and they both laugh.

"Have you dated a guy, then?" Stephanie asks next. 

"Only one for real," Eddie admits. "But it's not like I've dated many girls either, though it is easier."

"A young bachelor like you?" Stephanie raises her eyebrows in surprise. "You should be swarming with marriage proposals, the way your uncle describes you."

Eddie groans, throwing his head back against the cushions. 

"What nonsense is he telling about me?"

"Only that he has a talented, smart boy in Indy, who's always helpful and protective of his friends and family. Also, he has really frizzy hair."

"Excuse me?"

Eddie picks up his head to look at Stephanie. She's suddenly closer than before, rubbing a lock of his hair between her fingers. 

"When was the last time you had your hair done?"

"Uh." He looks between her hand and her face like he'll find the answer there. "Never? Probably? At least not that I remember."

Stephanie's mouth purses with displeasure. 

"I can fix them for you. For taking care of my cats."

Eddie wants her hands in his hair so badly, but he raises his beer like a dumbass. 

"But I already got a beer," he points out. 

She shakes her head. 

"I share beers with friends for less. I'd usually buzz Wayne too, and you'd be doing me a favor because I can't focus with your split ends right in my face."

She's really playing it up, pout and all, and unfortunately, it's working on him. 

But he'd probably do anything she asked for. 

"Then, uh... Sure, I guess."

[anundyingfidelity]

HAPPY MISTAKE — Logan Howlett

Summary: Not ever, through all the years of your life, you found someone like Logan. Since he arrived at the school, something brought you together like a magnet. Sadly, not everything came out as you wished it would be. Time is not gentle with mutants, and you try so hard to show him your unconditional love before everything is over, but can you finally accept your feelings for each other? Or yours and Logan's tumultuous relationship through the years.

(PART ONE → PART TWO) | GEN MASTERLIST!

Pairing: Logan x mutant!female!reader.

Word count: 9.6k.

Warnings: slow burn, breaking up(?)/making up, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, eventual smut and unprotected everything, language, character death, time travel, Logan hurting reader unintentionally, wounds and blood. Logan being a whore for both Jean Grey and the reader. Reader has slow aging as Logan and looks around mid 30s in my head. Anthropology teacher!reader. Reader can manipulate light (just like Starlight from The Boys). This takes place between different movies from the franchise, from X-Men 1 to DoFP, so spoilers of the movies ahead.

Notes: Long time no write. Life is horrible but somehow I managed to get this in like two months. I love Logan so fucking much now you don't have an idea. This was also written with Happy Mistake by Lady Gaga in mind. If you'd like to be tagged in the second part let me know or let me know your thoughts on this, it's very much appreciated! I suffered a lot writing it .

𝒊𝒇 𝒊 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒇𝒊𝒙 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏 𝒑𝒊𝒆𝒄𝒆𝒔, 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒊'𝒅 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒂 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒚 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆.

—

2000

“Need any help?”

Logan stopped on his tracks from wandering around the cozy, yet strange place he woke up in. Turning on his feet, he saw your figure standing in the middle of the hallway. He said nothing, but you approached him as you had known him for a very long time.

“I assume you’re the new guy-”

“Where is she?” Logan abruptly interrupted once you stood inches away from him.

“Rogue? She’s fine. And you need to take a little rest.”

“I don’t need medical attention,” he said, looking around to search for a nearby exit. Before he walked away you took his arm in a soft grip.

He was, as much as you could tell, surprised by your boldness. You gave him no time to process his next movements once you talked again, your voice firm and welcoming in a way he had never felt before.

“Please, you need to meet Professor Xavier,” you said. “At least before you go. It’s totally fine if you wanna leave, I don’t recommend it though, but we can offer you a safe place here. We are just like you.”

Logan’s hardened expression relaxed for a moment, sensing no threat coming from you. All he saw in your eyes wasn’t pity, nor anger at him being kind of an asshole at first. It was just authority, the good kind where he also had something to say and decide about.

“Whatcha say, Logan?”

He was so immersed in his thoughts before you called his name, thinking it sounded beautiful falling off your lips. You gave him a half smile as he took in each detail of your face, as if he was memorizing every part of it.

It was the first time someone had been nice to him and it felt strangely good.

For some reason, it felt very good coming from you.

—

Logan just found out from the Professor’s mouth the mansion was a school for mutants. Gifted people, he called them. After learning another powerful mutant was behind him and Rogue, he had no other choice but accept the shelter. He didn’t like the other guys better, playing the teacher with a bunch of teenagers with special or cursed abilities. But besides Storm and Jean, you were the person who had welcomed him the most, even showing him the place and the room he would stay in.

One late night, you sat at the dining table together. Logan was silently drinking a beer outside school hours so the kids wouldn’t see him, and you, reading a bunch of papers from your students that you were missing. He realized how hard you worked, how you would praise your students, how you talked to them outside classes, being the one to actually convince Rogue to enroll in the school. Immediately, he knew you were really something, having much more in common than he thought. And you, living for so long, being both a mutant and a lady for sure had a hard life through time.

“What you teach again?” he suddenly asked, breaking the comfortable silence you shared.

“Anthropology,” you answered, giving him a short glance. “I took this at college a long time ago, and I’ve been alive long enough to know a thing or two,” you explained, putting away a paper after putting an A+ on it proudly. “It’s important to understand ourselves, humankind and mutants… It’s a diverse world and there are lots of cultures, languages and societies we don’t get to know, but it’s beautiful. I think I like to celebrate what makes us unique. I've had the chance to study some of them around the world since I had the time, y’know, and it’s truly amazing. It’s a shame we have to fight between us to make us heard when we could just be kind and empathetic to each other… Sorry, you didn’t ask but, y’know, anyway.”

You shook your head with a curve on your lips, going back to the next paper. Logan had taken the sparks in your eyes as you talked. He half smiled to himself once you buried yourself in your papers again, thinking you sounded just like Professor Xavier. No wonder why he took you in. Probably, if things were different for him, he would’ve found something that could light his face with so much passion just like you did.

“Been alive for almost two hundred years,” Logan said and you looked up to him. “We might have things about the past to share,” he drank from his beer. It was your turn to smile back at him.

“Yeah, well, I’ve lived both horrible but nice things. Couldn’t read or do math without being called a witch,” you chuckled to yourself, but hiding on the inside the awful experiences you had to endure. “Someday, we could go out and grab a coffee or something,” you said with a playful smile.

A light chuckle left your lips, but you and him knew it wasn’t just a joke.

He joined you with a warm smile that lit up his face before disappearing from his lips. “Of course. Count me in.”

—

The sun was shining bright and the weather was great that morning. Some of the students were in the yard playing, having some quality time, and others simply just left to go to the town. It was a good weekend before the next semester started, and it was better now knowing Magneto had been taken to prison after his failed attempt to use Rogue for his plans.

Sipping on your coffee, you saw the students outside. Laughing, running, having a good breakfast picnic. It felt heartwarming just taking this sight, wishing it would always be like this. Your mindful peace was interrupted when Logan entered the kitchen to have a coffee on his own. Visibly, you tensed just a little when he approached you and sat right in front of you at the dining table. The caffeine was not helping at all, you thought.

“Morning,” he greeted you, noticing something was off on you, but hoping it would pass. Maybe you already knew.

“Morning…” your voice came out as a whisper. “How you feeling?”

“Better. What about you?”

You gave a small nod. “Good, thanks for asking.”

A silence fell upon you. Not like the ones you used to share in lonely nights where you prepared your classes and Logan just sat down calmly because he couldn’t sleep. This time it was different. Words won’t come out of your mouth to ask what was really bothering you. You had grown up to like Logan and enjoy his company, but he had a lot of walls upon him, protecting himself of the world and people around him.

However, you understood why he did it. You both have been alive longer than anyone else. You saw people you love dearly dead, being killed because of your flaws. And you really connected to his idea of protecting people by leaving their side. It was better being away. That was until Professor Xavier recruited you. Here, you had a purpose and you helped young people to become the best versions of themselves. You wished Logan could do the same, stay and see he was more of what he thought of himself, but it wouldn’t happen. Right? He had things to sort out on his own.

“Are you leaving soon?”

When you asked the question, Logan knew you had heard something from the Professor. He gave you a nod.

“I need to reconnect with who I was,” he simply answered.

“Right… Wish you all the best there.”

Logan had grown to like you over the past few weeks you shared, exchanging experiences and lessons of life you had taken through the years. For a moment, he looked right into your eyes and smiled. He weirdly smiled, and you could swear he’d miss you too once he is away.

But that warm feeling soon faded away once Jean walked into the kitchen, saying good morning and beaming to the both of you. Logan followed her with his gaze, straightening himself on his seat as she served her own breakfast and an extra plate that you already knew was for Scott. She also began putting fruits and snacks inside a picnic basket while looking all happy and settled, and you knew why Logan had fallen in love with her. It was all over his face.

And you wondered how could he act and talk to you so kindly and sweet, and then look at Jean like that. It was a pain in your heart you tried to dissipate. Everyone knew Jean and Scott were a couple, and the fact that Logan had a not so secret crush on her really played on you. It made you feel like a fool and you had too many heartbreaks and hurted people, putting them in danger due to your mutation, to take initiative and start a relationship - or anything of the sort - again.

Scott made his way inside the kitchen, saying hi to both of you - mostly you. And took the tray with their plates as Jean grabbed the basket, but she let Scott leave the kitchen before.

“Have a good trip, Logan,” she said kindly. “I hope to see you around here soon.”

“Thank you, Jean.”

She smiled one last time before leaving you all alone, Logan following her with his eyes. Just for a second, you wished he could see you like that underneath his facade.

—

You had packed your stuff later that day, deciding a little air and a change for one night would do no wrong. Just as you were walking to the main door, Rogue was saying her goodbyes to Logan after giving him a small hug without really touching him. It was a cute sight how Rogue was able to step into his cold heart. She said goodbye to you as well before leaving the entrance.

“You’re going away too?” Logan asked, rather surprised as you both walked through the door, the sun hitting your skin as soon as you were out of the mansion. He knew your life was at the school.

“Just for the weekend,” you shrug it off.

Logan gave you a nod with a warm smile. “Then have a good trip and enjoy yourself.”

“Thanks. I hope you find what you’ve been looking for.”

“I hope so too,” Logan answered and before he went to take Scott’s bike, he looked at you hesitantly for a couple of seconds. “We should go out and grab some coffee once I’m back.”

Your lips formed a wide smile. “That sounds really nice.”

For a moment, where time felt like hours and not seconds, you stood right out the door, looking at each other. You wanted him to go first, but he was waiting for you to say something. Probably to ride the bike with him, he could leave you somewhere near your destination and feel you close - just be around you for at least five more minutes. But none of that ever happened.

Instead, you studied his face, looking at his deep eyes, and then his lips - those lips you wanted to kiss so bad before, but never had the courage to do so. You didn’t think further, and if something had taken possession over you, you leaned towards him leaving a short, sweet kiss on the corner of his lips.

“Take care,” you mumbled once you pulled away.

Not waiting for his answer, you turned back, pulling your bag to your side stronger than ever and walked the path to the front gates, feeling his gaze all over you until you left the mansion.

He felt such an idiot for not kissing you properly.

—

2003

‘I know what I want, but what do you want?’

Mystique’s words echoed through his head. Logan left the tent so long ago he didn’t know what time it was anymore and the situation kept repeating again and again in his mind. The woman had shifted between Jean, Ororo, and you. The one that icked him the most being Rogue once Mystique had taken her figure in. Storm was a good colleague, Jean was a forbidden love, Rogue was like his little sister, someone he would protect as long as he could, and you… you were a different case. When Mystique was about to kiss him wearing your figure, he finally realized he started feeling things he had prohibited himself for a very long time, and he thought he shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t.

Once or twice you shared experiences about love and partners, but he could tell it hurted you the same way as him. He couldn’t burden breaking your heart, or worse, getting you hurt because of what he was. Logan knew you had the same bad luck in the past, but it didn’t stop any of you to pull towards each other like a magnet.

‘Living for so long does things to you, Logan. I feel we become more aware of what we are.’

Those words you said to him one time remained in his head like a warning, and he took it personally.

Closing his eyes, he leaned against a hard tree trunk some feet away from the tents where the rest of the X-Men rested. He tried to find some peace alone for a few moments when the sounds of steps approaching alerted his senses. Claws out and ready to attack, he spun around the trunk only to stop in a second.

There you were, a bright light emanating from your hand to illuminate your path in the darkness of the woods.

“Logan?”

Quickly, he withdrew his claws and his body relaxed visibly. “Sorry,” he apologized, leaning against the tree one more time.

“Are you okay?” you asked, but you already knew the answer. The exhausted sigh he let out told you everything you needed. You let the soft glow of light floating between you and him, to illuminate both of you under the branches. “You wanna talk?”

He slowly shook his head, mumbling ‘no’. He became startled in the light floating like a firefly, letting his own issues wash away with your sole company. Ironically, everything that was troubling him was you. Softly, you caressed his arm, taking him out of his own thoughts. Your touch didn’t help his poor mind either.

Looking worried about the next mission in Lake Alkali, you feared for him and your team. And your lack of sleep was showing it. But just like Logan, the growing feelings were troubling your head. You had seen him talking with Jean earlier when you landed in the forest - talking too close to your liking once he pulled her for a kiss. But what could you do? Logan was still after Jean even when she had already declined him countless of times, and it didn’t really hurt you. It just felt strange inside. Why would he do that while still being nice to you, quitting being a dick when he wanted because he knew you’d snap back at him. And to be honest, Logan looked as if he liked that about you. But he won’t admit it out loud, and of course, you wouldn’t ask. Men were so damn complicated.

“Well, I only expect things to not get worse…” you finally said in a soft whisper since he wasn’t talking and you stopped your head going further on the matter. And you knew he wouldn’t talk soon either. “And you’re brave for seeking your past.”

Logan locked his eyes with your own, under the soft light. Your tired gaze, your figure, your aura pulling him like he found a treasure in an abandoned cave… He felt so bad for falling for someone like you, who was nothing compared to the crap he was. And then, for the first time in years, he decided to follow his instinct with you.

He leaned towards your figure, his rough hand cupping your cheek gently before pulling you in for a kiss. With a soft sigh you corresponded, your arms around his neck as it turned deeper and harsher. Logan lifted you easily from the ground, your legs tangling around his waist until you felt your back against a rough surface, trapped between the trunk and his body. Soft moans and grunts mingled, your chest pressing against his own, his hips grinding against your crotch. It was obvious you wanted this. Logan desired you so painfully after that day you kissed him goodbye at the mansion, he needed your body and soul. But you had to have answers before giving into the heat of the moment.

Pulling away, you broke the kiss, your forehead resting against his own as you tried to catch your breath. Logan tried to taste you once again, but you placed two of your fingers on his swollen lips.

“Why’d you kiss her?”

He remained silent, brows furrowed and eyes blown in lust. You didn’t make any effort to pull him away. He still had you between his legs, asking a simple question he had no response for.

“We’re adults here, Logan. Just wanna know why before we go further.”

Logan started to remember. He vividly heard Jean and Mystique voicing out and asking the right question.

‘Girls flirt with the bad guy. They take the good guy home.’

‘What do you want?’

“Do you really want me?” he asked in return.

You lifted an eyebrow at his sudden question. “And do you?”

He leaned again for a kiss on your lips, and thankfully for him, you didn’t stop it. But he quickly pulled away and inhaled your sweet scent from the skin on your neck, leaving a path of soft pecks, until he nipped the shell of your ear softly. You shivered under his touch.

“I’d love to have you,” he whispered, softly caressing your cheek with his thumb.

“Come to my tent,” you mumbled. “Sleep with me. But like, seriously, sleep with me ‘cause I’m tired,” you chuckled, hoping to not kill the mood.

Logan smiled for a bit and nodded, pecking your lips one more time before helping you get on your feet on the muddy ground, hands rubbing your sides slowly.

“As long as I have you by my side it’s alright with me.”

—

Jean’s death was hard to swallow.

For weeks, students and teachers mourned her, and you felt sorry for Scott for losing his soulmate. Logan was not in the best shape either. He didn’t attend her funeral, he never had the guts to stand by her grave either, until now. You stopped right behind him and noticed him sighing, under the afternoon sunset. He was tense because of everything, but when you took his hand out of the pocket of his jacket, he held onto you. Your fingers intertwined together, feeling his life depending solely on you, like a rock he needed to support his whole weight.

The day was about to end, the sun slowly hiding, giving a beautiful painting of orange and purple in the sky. You thought it would soon become an intense thunderstorm due to Ororo’s mourn - something you had gotten used to the last few days.

“She saved us,” Logan barely mumbled, looking intensely at the grave.

You nodded, even if he could not see you. “Can’t blame her, I’d have done the same.”

Those words cause him to look back at you, wishing it’d be a lie. But inside, Logan knew you really had the guts to sacrifice yourself for others. It was something he remembered both of you talking about some time ago. And you would give everything in your hands to save the ones you love.

Quietly, Logan gave a last glance at Jean’s grave, and guided you inside the mansion. Classes barely started again due to the circumstances and a few kids could be seen around the halls. You accompanied him to the doors of his room, noticing you had been holding hands the whole time. Probably no one really cared, they were too busy trying to go through the grief of losing a loved one. Slowly, you broke the gesture, taking your hand away and Logan immediately missed the heat and comfort of your hand.

“Do you need anything?” you asked in a low voice.

Looking at you, Logan reminisced how you kissed in the woods, the need and lust for each other that couldn’t be. He did sleep in your tent that night, in the comfort of your arms, feeling the warmth of your skin. It was, probably, the first time he had a good, peaceful night of sleep in years. No one had brought that up, but he knew something was there. And he needed to act on it before it was too late.

So he brought up his hands to your face, cupping your cheeks lovingly before planting a kiss on your lips, not caring he was standing in the middle of the hallway where anyone could see what was going on. You leaned against his touch, deepening the kiss until you couldn’t catch a breath. When he pulled away, he pressed his forehead into yours, taking in the beauty of your bright eyes and swollen lips. Everything wandering his mind, making a path right into his cold heart was right in front of him.

“You.”

—

Knocking Professor Xavier's door, you walked inside as soon as his voice announced to come in. You caught your breath seeing Logan by his desk. He just gave you a quick, accomplice glimpse and left the room, closing the door behind. The exchange of glances wasn’t unnoticed by Charles.

“Here’s the report on my subject for this last semester, Professor,” you announced, leaving the folder on the wooden desk.

“Thank you. How’s Logan doing?” he asked all of a sudden, checking the door the man had crossed just seconds ago.

“Excuse me?”

“Do you believe he is comfortable helping the kids?” the old man asked again. He was seeing right through you, and you kind of hated every time he used to do that to you. Nothing could be hidden from Xavier; definitely you couldn’t hide a single thing for the man who took you in decades ago.

“Why would I know that?”

He shrugged it off. “Well, you seem very close lately.”

Close was not the best word to describe your relationship with Logan. Yet, you were sleeping on his bed just the night before. The trace of his kisses, the burn of his beard on your skin, his teeth biting softly your breasts, his rough hands all over your hips… Every touch he left on your body you could still feel it, and you wanted to think he was not just using you. During the past weeks, you were together. Not quite a relationship-thing was established properly, but it was the closest thing any of you could have as for now.

It was a mixture of grief, pain, and hope that had you both still standing. In the end, you understood what he felt. Being alone and alive for so long and then finding a place where people accepted you for who you were was a whole change, even if some years passed by. Though, the time Logan had been spending at the school was nothing but a blink of an eye compared to his past.

“What happened to our team is still affecting us,” you finally said. “I believe we are good friends, yes, we’ve been supporting each other. And he doesn’t know how to deal with the students yet most of the time, but I try to walk him through it.”

Xavier hummed, smiling at the corner of his lips as he eyed the folder you handed him. “I bet you both do.Thanks for bringing your report on time, as always, and I apologize if I am being intrusive. Just please be careful with the noises both of you make at night, we have kids around here.”

Shit.

You swallowed your pride right there and simply gave a nod, feeling the heat burning up your face.

“Will do, Professor.”

—

A loud gasp escaped your lips as you held for dear life on his broad shoulders, hips snapping against your own. His pace was reckless, keeping you on the edge of sin. Grunts mixed with sweet moans, skin hitting skin again and again every time you felt his cock inside you. If possible, your nails could have already left visible scars and marks on his back, scratching and bleeding off his skin as he fucked you senseless.

Logan sucked on the bare skin on your neck, inhaling your scent, feeling your walls clenching around his girth, his hands roughly grabbing the sides of your hips as you moaned his name, over and over, under the moonlight. He looked at you intensely with loving eyes when you came underneath him, eyes flashing that familiar bright light every time a powerful orgasm hit your body. The vulnerable sight of your figure shaking, eyes closing slowly and biting your lip to keep the pretty noises low, made him reach the sweetest high.

With a grunt, he leaned to attack your lips in a heated, wet kiss to moan against your mouth. Logan pulled back to press butterfly kisses on your jaw, until he reached your breasts, feeling himself soften inside your wet heat. His hips were still thrusting just enough to fill you up at a gentle rhythm. Marking you his and only his.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he mumbled against the sensitive skin of your chest. “Remind me why we’re here again.”

You chuckled softly, fingers tangling on his disheveled hair. You just had prepared a small date night out at the shores of a beautiful lake in the woods. No one could bother you if you were alone, and since your relationship was not so secret anymore, you needed him in a place that wasn’t the school. So here you were, laying on your back, fully naked on the picnic blanket, with the Wolverine between your legs, enjoying the calmness of the water, the green grass, the crickets singing around, and the cold of the night.

“Privacy perhaps?” you whispered as his eyes locked on yours.

Softly you touched his cheek with the palm of your hand and he rolled both of you over, until you laid on top of him, legs straddling his waist and your arms on his shoulders to sit on his lap. Silence took over, his hands soothing your hips and the marks he left on your body from the intense love-making.

“I’m so happy we took a couple of days off…”

You waited for Logan to say something. Anything. You wanted to continue, to tell him how you really felt. Instead, you decided it was better leaving it like this. Logan gave you a nod, pulling you for a short kiss.

“Yeah. Me too.”

He wanted to say it out loud, but was too scared to do so.

—

2006

After a couple of long years, the school and the team had to learn how to go through the grief and pain Jean left. Logan had a hard time processing it, just like all your teammates, specially Scott, and of course the students. It didn’t stop you from moving on as time went by though, always remembering her for the great person and mind she was. Going forward and keeping fighting is what she would’ve wanted for everyone, even now that a certain cure for mutants was announced to the public.

You tried to continue your life as a professor at the school, training students, leading young people, and you invited and encouraged Logan to do so countless times. Deep inside, you wished it was you the reason why Logan decided to stay and train young mutants - for you to be the answer to his loneliness. That he knew, for once and all, that he was not alone. You got each other, and you could do something about it. Words unspoken said more than anything, at least you thought so.

It was one of those rare nights where you got some time for yourselves, walking around the city after having a nice and calm dinner. Your shoulders brushed against each other while you walked downtown, your hands hiding inside the pockets of your jacket, protecting them from the cold.

There was a lot on your mind lately, thinking about what you two really were. If there was a stronger feeling in between, or if it was solely because he enjoyed your company and that was it. Both had lived enough to know there was a feeling in the middle. It wasn’t just friends with benefits, or co-workers who sleep together three times a week. Something was blooming deep inside you, but you tried to not give it a lot of attention all those years. Still, it felt like it had to be addressed sooner or later, and this could be the time. In the end, you understood each other perfectly. How painful it was, how living longer than anyone was, how you had to leave everything and everyone behind because you were dangerous…

“Have you ever wondered how’d it feel to have a normal life?” your question came out all of the sudden.

“How come?” He looked at you from the corner of his eye.

You didn’t know if his gaze was judging you but you continued anyway.

“Like living a normal amount of years… Not having these things, genes that make us different. Or special…”

Logan suddenly stopped in his tracks and grabbed your arm softly so you could lock eyes together as he asked. “You’re not thinking of getting that damn cure, aren’t you?”

“Of course not!”

“Then why’d you think that?”

“Because I never had anyone in my life, Logan,” you spat, pulling your arm away from his grip. “I’ve been alive for so long but I can’t promise myself a future. A real one. Not anything, it doesn’t matter if I live forever. Every person I loved before perished.”

Those words shook him out of the rough façade showing on his face. Your gaze told a hundred different stories when he studied your face every time. It was like mirroring himself at some point. You were the first person he ever got to know that has lived as long as he has, and maybe it was the sentimentalism, but he tried to push away those wishes of settling down. Of trying to be normal. Because he was not, and maybe, just maybe, you just didn’t accept it like he did. Probably, he was just giving up. But you weren’t, even after hundreds of years of disgrace continuously happening.

“I thought you’d get this, Logan.”

You mumbled, taking him out of his trance.

“Well, I do, in a way,” he said, but sounded more like an excuse for himself.

“Then why don’t you say it?”

“Wha-”

“Just say it,” you repeated and pointed between you and him. “What is this for you? What are we?”

Logan grabbed on your shoulders gently and leaned towards you, stealing a kiss on the sidewalk, a kiss you obliged with a bittersweet feeling for some reason, but then he whispered. “Darling, you’re everything to me now.”

Yet, you smiled and kissed him back, feeling his lips curve against your own. Well, that wasn’t so hard was it?

—

Needless to say, after the last date, your relationship with Logan had evolved to something more domestic, considering you lived together in your workplace. Affection, holding hands, quick kisses were shared now a little more freely, and you had received a couple of jokes and teases from some students and Storm. But it was fine as long as you had cleared your path with Logan, even if he didn’t act like a partner sometimes.

The certain calmness you felt one day disappeared when Logan and Ororo went to look for Scott, who often had these sad thoughts, and since Jean was his partner, it was thoroughly complicated for him to say the least. When Logan and Ororo came back to the mansion, it was not what you expected to see. Jean was alive and Scott was gone.

It hurted you, knowing first hand that their love wouldn’t be anymore. You met both of them when they were so young, becoming something like their mentor when they used to learn how to control their powers and how to fit in this world that loathed mutants to death. Now, the school was something else. It was a big, special place that was not the same without the brains of Jean, or the enthusiasm and leadership of Scott. Things were different, they had to change because the circumstances told so, and everyone had a difficult time adapting to it. One thing after another left you tired, with no option to run away, even if you wanted to. The complicated circumstances and the relationship you shared with Logan were no help either.

While on your way to check on Jean, who was still under observation after a couple of days, you stopped in your tracks when the heavy door of the med bay slid. Logan, looking all out of his daily self and mad, found you at the entrance, and you felt something different emanating from him.

For what you could see behind him, Jean was still asleep, and the Professor called Logan to come back with a serious voice, but he ignored the older man, instead approaching you.

“You knew, didn’t you?” Logan grasped your arm, his tone lower and deeper than usual.

You quickly pulled off his grip and hissed. “What are you talking about?”

“Jean.”

You felt silent. Of course she was anything he could think of since they found her.

“You knew he was controlling her,” Logan went on and your heart skipped a beat.

The look in your eyes told everything but lies. Logan scoffed and walked away, leaving you standing alone under Professor Xavier’s gaze.

“I’ll talk to him,” you mumbled at your mentor before following Logan, trying to keep his pace until he reached his room.

The whole way you tried to keep it professional, greeting students as normally you would, but when you crossed his door it was impossible to continue with the facade.

“Logan-”

“He’s insane,” he snapped, putting his jacket on and taking his bag out.

“Everything that was done was meant to protect her,” you responded calmly as he placed a handful of clothes inside the bag.

“No, you did it because you are disgusting. I bet this is what should’ve been for me if I refused to cooperate with your circus or something.”

“You don’t know what she is capable of-”

“Yeah, well I don’t wanna hear it anymore. This is so fucked up, even for you,” he continued, bag on his hand taking long strides until you were almost touching noses. 

You scoffed, trying to laugh at the irony. “What does that even mean? Do you know how horrible it is to be controlled by the Phoenix inside her?.”

Logan rolled his eyes, not wanting to hear another poor excuse. You continued anyway, looking straight in his eyes before he could leave you hanging with your own words. Exactly like he used to do every damn time when you had an argument. Today, he wouldn’t run away that fast.

“She could kill you in a second and won’t hesitate. For her, we’re nothing. We’re not rivals, we can’t do shit. The only thing we could do was keep her alter ego somewhere hiding inside her mind, or else we wouldn’t be here arguing about something you never witnessed. Because I did and you don’t wanna see that, trust me,” you spat at him. He breathed rage at your words and you knew that it was getting on his nerves seeing the way his hands turned to fists. “And you think this version of her cares for you? Or that she loves you? Jean is gone now, Logan, fucking get over it.”

With last harsh words, you turned around and left the room, closing the door with a thud. 

Logan breathed out. He wanted to scream, hit something, run away… Anything to let it out. He was a reckless mess but how could he react and accept Charles was playing with Jean’s mind? And you fucking knew all this time and didn’t say anything? Were his feelings dirty on him right now? Probably. Shit, he took years to finally tell you the truth about his love and affection towards you. He spent months trying to find the right words just to say ‘I love you’, and still, it seemed it wasn’t enough. The forbidden love he felt for Jean never disappeared, and he felt guilty for it.

—

You walked down to the med bay after calming down for a bit. You only needed to check on Jean for a moment and see how she was doing. Years prior, you had witnessed what the Phoenix was capable of, so you didn’t really question Charles’ methods when it came to hide this dangerous side of her inside her mind. You also thought your words might have been a little harsh on Logan, but it was the truth. He didn’t know who the Phoenix was and, if his feelings for Jean resurfaced after believing her being dead, then it wasn’t on you. As much as you loved him, as much as you tried and somehow managed to move on together, he was so easily dragged to her.

The anger you felt before took over you once again, as you found the metal doors of the lab in debris. Quickly, you made your way inside the room and found Jean wasn’t there and that Logan was lying unconscious on the floor. You knelt down by his side, calling him over and over and touching his face and shaking his shoulders until he finally opened his eyes slowly, coming back to reality.

“Logan, what happened?”

“She… she killed Scott. The Phoenix,” he whispered. You could tell he was a little weak and out of breath.

“You’re lucky she just ran away,” you pointed out, helping him to sit down. His eyes were lost in the mess in the room. Tools were destroyed, test tubes broken, crystal was everywhere, and Jean left the reminder of kissing him, yet again, before she escaped. God, he felt so idiotic.

“I’m sorry,” Logan said, looking at you. “Sorry for being a jerk. It’s my fault.”

Taking his cheeks between your hands, you gave him a reassuring look. “We’re gonna find her, okay?”

He nodded. “Yeah, we’ll find her.”

“Come here, we need to alert Charles,” you said, helping him to stand up.

Inside, you knew he wouldn’t really need your help. He was strong and indestructible like the metal on his skull, but he seemed really taken back, and you decided to stay by his side, holding his hand strongly as a way to say sorry as well. It was kind of difficult to see Logan in that state of mind, confused and lost, and you wondered what had happened back there in the lab as you left him in his bedroom, ordering him to rest for a while.

“I’ll be right back,” you assured him with loving eyes.

Logan nodded, following your figure stepping out the room and disappearing in the hallway.

He let out a breath he didn’t know was holding. His mind was having a hard time and his heart felt like breaking, going in two opposite directions, and he hated himself for that. His fate was always the same: losing people he loved and cared for dearly. So seeing Jean back again was as if god or anything up there remembered he existed and brought her back just for him. Or maybe he was just being selfish because he already had you.

You were everything for him. A couple of years might be just a short glimpse for both of you, but he was able to feel peace and calm next to you, and he was sure you did as well. Because some nights, that was all you could talk about. Logan didn’t mind hearing you for hours, it reminded him he was alive. With you, but his stupid instinct had to act.

It was his fault Jean had left. The kiss, the whole act of embracing each other’s bodies for at least two minutes, and then her breakdown, begging for him to kill her… All of that was enough to bring out the beast inside her. And he felt such a jerk now for following his desires. He already had you. Wasn’t that enough?

His thoughts were interrupted once you arrived again, finding him sitting at the end of the bed exactly as you had left him there. Sensing something different on him, you sat down by his side and rubbed his hand gently.

“We might know where she’s going,” you whispered.

“I’ll go,” Logan said before you could finish.

“I’m not sure if I should ask, but are you okay? You could do some rest,” you suggested, since seeing the redhead was clearly getting some kind of reaction from him.

“No, I need to go,” he said. But Logan could read your face perfectly, and he knew you didn’t really like the idea of him leaving the mansion. You turned your eyes, scanning the room and avoiding his gaze.

You had the need to ask what exactly had happened back there with Jean, but you didn’t want to start a fight either. Feeling Logan’s hand on your shoulder, he leaned to kiss your forehead goodbye. Maybe you were the one who should stay, check the kids, the school…

“It’ll be fine,” he mumbled, voice low and deep, as if trying to convince you, but himself as well. You nodded with your arms around his neck, giving him a hug that felt like some sort of apology you weren’t able to say out loud. “Don’t worry, it’ll be fine.”

And how you’d wish things would be fine.

—

The school has been very quiet lately. Too silent even for his taste. At nights like these, he could still feel the vigor and presence of the students running around, grabbing something to eat, planning to go out for a while... Instead, Logan found himself in a place that was mourning. Grieving the loss of Jean, Scott and Charles.

The feelings inside were complicated. He didn’t really feel the same, and the disgrace and remorse of his actions were growing on him. They were still haunting him; every day, every single night. You knew it too. It was impossible to ignore the nightmares each time he woke up from seeing Jean’s lifeless body fall against his own after he gave what she wished for the most: death.

And then, there was you. He noticed how difficult it was getting for you to sleep. You tried to hide your sorrow into your work, studying even more, keeping yourself busy with the school and not thinking about anything else. Since Charles was gone, Ororo took his place and you were her second hand. But you pushed yourself too hard.

Tonight he found your bedroom empty. He didn’t find you on his either, so he went to the place he knew you would be: your classroom. The door was half opened, the dim light of the lamp on your desk barely illuminated the papers on the surface. He found you deeply concentrated reading on something, hands on the sides of your head hiding your face.

“Hey,” he softly mumbled, stepping inside the empty classroom.

You quickly straightened yourself on the chair, wiping your cheeks and tried to look decent for a moment.

“Hey,” you replied back, low voice.

“Come to bed,” he said, coming to stand before you, his hand on your shoulder comforting and soothing you, making its way to the side of your neck. His big palm on your cheek, caressing the skin stained with your tears as if it was the most delicate thing. He took a look at the mess of papers and old books you loved too much to get rid of, scattered on the wooden surface.

“No, I- I can’t. Need to finish these by tomorrow…”

Logan gave you a nod and a grimace before taking your hand, motioning to come closer. You stood up, knowing he was trying to get you out of the work that was consuming you.

He observed every feature on your face, the sadness in your stare couldn’t be hidden. He just knew you too well, just like the palm of his hand, and he wanted to make you forget. At least for a little. You had taken care of him, helped him with your presence and your unique aura, bringing him comfort and peace to his broken mind. He wanted you to be fine. To feel loved.

Logan leaned just exactly to brush his lips with your own, teasing a kiss that he longed too much, his hands around your waist pulling you towards him.

“Can you just let me take care of you?” 

Swallowing hard the knot on your throat, you curled your lips as much as the grief let you. “Yes,” you nodded.

With this, Logan leaned until your lips connected. Your arms around his neck pulled him as closer as you could get, feeling his chest against your own, his strong hands around your waist, softly touching you above your clothes.

Logan slowly walked you until your back hit the desk, hands roaming on your ass down to your legs, placing you to sit down over the loose pages. It might ruin the work a little, but none of you cared. Everything in your head was him, between your legs, running his wet mouth down your jaw, his stubble burning your skin as you gasped gently. Lying on your back on the desk, he began descending down your breasts, unbuttoning your blouse until he exposed you to the cold of the room.

He stopped right on your trousers, and gave you a quick glance. You were so eager, wet already. He could sense it. Your eyes were glowing and you were already trying to catch your breath by just his kisses and touch.

“You locked the door?” you whispered.

“Damn right I did,” he voiced, hoarse and low voice from just thinking of railing you right there and then.

“Then don’t stop.”

At your command, he unzipped your trousers, letting them fall down along with your heels on the floor. He then leaned to take your lips in a sloppy kiss, more urgent this time of feeling you close. You moaned, nails scratching his skin. His calloused hands explored your bare legs and things, creating friction with his hips with slow, controlled thrusts against your crotch. Logan left a trail of kisses down to your breasts, licking and tasting the saltiness of your body.

You urged him to go down where you ached the most, hand tangling on his hair. His hands grabbed the back of your thighs, spreading to him until his nose was almost buried on your panties, smelling and taking the sweetness of your scent, licking softly with his wet tongue over the fabric. A trail of moans and curses left your lips. He pulled your panties aside before diving in your pussy, licking your folds and teasing your hole with two of his fingers.

“Logan…”

His name repeatedly left your mouth like a plea, his fingers now inside you, stretching your walls for him. The noises grew obscene and nasty as he ate you out like a sweet craving he had been denying himself the pleasure for so long.

He was growing hard just by hearing your whimpers, and he needed you. You always were a fucking longing for him. Your words, your intelligence, your beauty… Everything he needed, you had it. And still, he didn’t have any idea of how such a rational, smart woman like you learned to love him so deeply.

You tugged on his hair, hips thrusting up to meet his growling mouth. You were so close, felt almost there where you wanted, but he pulled away before you finished.

Logan unzipped his jeans leaning back, admiring your blissed out eyes and glistened figure.

“Come here,” you begged in a whisper, tangling your legs around his waist.

He let out a low, dirty chuckle, feeling your hands on his boxers, freeing his erection.

“So fucking eager,” Logan breathed kissing your lips, hands supporting his weight at the sides of your head on the desk.

You tasted yourself within the kiss and you moaned at his words, your hand pumped him just enough to feel his pre cum leaking already, lining his dick with your cunt. Inch by inch, he entered slowly so you could get used to his size. Logan pecked your lips gently, kissing your cheeks and the side of your neck to get into your sensitive skin. You tugged on his white shirt so he could remove it and he ripped your bra apart right after. He loved to feel your chest pressed against his own. You gasped but paid no mind, instead urging him to move inside you.

“Shit, Logan please-”

A particular harsh trust caught your breath on your throat. You held onto dear life with your hands on his shoulders. He pounded into you rock hard and deep. So damn deep the desk was shrieking under, papers fell off and the lamp moved at the same rhythm but you hoped it won’t break.

Logan growled, inhaling your scent and tasting the sweat forming on your collarbone, your breasts bouncing against his chest. He felt your nails trailing down his back, and oh, how he wished he could get damn scars on just by fucking you like this. But the view of you, squirming under him, eyes closed, being a whimpering mess… All because of him. He was so insanely in love with your fucked out expression every time.

Your walls clenched, close to the sweet end. Logan felt himself twitching inside your warm pussy and his thrusts were getting erratic and sloppy. He filled you up, reaching his own climax first, hot white ropes of cum painting your insides. Your pussy milked him all the way as he kept spliting you open until you let yourself go, legs trembling around his waist. 

For a moment, you stayed like this, with him kissing your shoulder and caressing your thigh, taking in the aftermath of your intense lovemaking.

“Thank you…”

Your whisper forced him to look up at you. There it was, that loving, sweet gaze you had reserved just for him.

He nodded, palm on your jaw holding you gently. “Of course…”

For some reason, he wanted to voice out for once those stupid three words.

I love you.

Or at least hoped you would do it first.

—

The night was cold under the moonlight, almost freezing. He wondered how he got trapped there, between the messy, withered shrubbery, fog, and the trees of a forest he never recalled knowing. He was alert, senses to the limit in case something might attack him. He felt as if he was being watched, but there were no eyes he could find around. He couldn’t see much like that.

But then a voice started to call his name from afar, claws coming out immediately as he sharpened his senses to find the owner. One, two, three times he heard, trying to find the person who was calling but there was only darkness. His heart skipped a beat when someone spoke behind him.

“Logan…”

He turned on his feet and he felt like dying again. “Jean?”

He withdrew his claws back immediately. The redhead smiled, coming closer until she touched his cheek with a soft hand before pulling away. “How are you, Logan?”

“What-”

“Are you happy now?” she asked, beaming brightly as if they were in a casual conversation instead of the darkness of the woods.

His brows furrowed. She couldn’t be real. She wasn’t there with him. Jean was gone, he had killed her because it was what she wanted. It was her way out to get what she needed; it was the key to her freedom…

“What do you mean?”

“With her… Be careful. You could kill her. Just like me,” Jean whispered, tears forming in her eyes.

Logan stepped back, trying to get away. He shook his head in disbelief, not knowing exactly why Jean was saying this to him.

“No… You’re not real…”

“Everything you love is destined to death and chaos, Logan. You shouldn’t be there,” Jean continued, her eyes switching from her usual tone to a deep black. The ground began trembling under their feet with each step of her, wind building up around. Logan felt truly scared, but somehow he couldn’t run, just stand there as she approached. “All she will know is a life of suffering if you stay. She doesn’t need that.”

“Jean-”

“She doesn’t need you!”

“Jean!”

And then it happened so fast. His claws buried on her chest, the Phoenix disappearing and leaving her to die. Jean collapsed against his body and Logan reminisced about the events of that battle, where he had to choose to be selfish or liberate her from her own demons. Logan wasn’t sure why he stabbed her like this. And when he thought Jean was dead in his arms, she started to call his name again. This time, he heard it far away.

Logan.

Logan.

Logan…

Logan!

His eyes went wide open. And there you were, by his side on the bed, calling for him with a pain grimace on your face. His claws buried on your stomach.

“Logan…” you gasped and he pulled the claws out, but you were already bleeding, your nightshirt and the mattress stained.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry- I-”

“It’s okay,” you managed to say as he caressed your cheek before taking you in his arms hurriedly and quickly made the way out of your room through the halls. “The nightmares… I know, Logan…”

“God, I’m so sorry, please forgive me. Hank!” Logan stood outside the scientist’s door. “Hank, I need your help!”

The commotion caused some of the students to peek from their doors, and Logan waited outside what he felt it was forever under the gazes of the teenagers. It wasn’t the first time he had caused the same accident. The door opened, finally revealing a sleepy Hank putting his glasses on.

There was no need to explain what had happened.

—

“She’ll be stable soon,” Hank informed once he let Logan inside the med bay. “If you hadn’t brought her soon…”

Logan swallowed the knot on his throat, watching your unconscious figure on the stretcher. You already had received blood to cover up what you lost because of the wounds, and Logan’s claws were not minor weapons. His mind was a mess, confusion taking over. He didn’t know how he let this happen. He had nightmares pretty often, yes, but nothing like this.

Maybe Jean was right. Maybe she was trying to warn him about something. Or Jean was just trying to protect you from him. The last one felt more realistic. Logan wouldn’t hurt you, not ever. You talked about how dangerous it was to sleep together not so long ago, but you had insisted on staying. It was the first time something felt so damn real in his dreams and he wished you wouldn’t let him in your room that night…

“She’ll wake up, right?” Logan asked.

“Absolutely,” Hank nodded. “I will need to monitor her vital signs though, hopefully within a day or two she will be normal again… At least she’ll be stable until the wounds heal completely.”

Of course, Logan thought. You didn’t have a healing factor just like him.

“I’ll be right back,” Hank announced before stepping out of the room, leaving Logan alone.

He felt so guilty for doing this to you. For everything. For being the cause of your suffering now. He was a threat and mentally unstable. He was strong thanks to his genes, but he was weak on the inside. He promised countless times to protect you, but he couldn’t avoid hurting you himself. It didn’t matter that it was a very bad dream that felt disgustingly real, he had failed and hurted someone who truly loved. Again.

Taking your hand gently into his, he leaned to plant a kiss on your forehead, wishing it would be just another game from his mind.

But it wasn’t. Now, he had the person he loved the most lying unconscious and hurted because he would let his darkest thoughts consume him.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, watching you sleep peacefully. “I should have said it sooner.”

-

PART TWO

[bluetbluish]

Okay I might have to smash my head into a rock u are so very wonderful I love you tysm for the tag <33

With that being said, @platedpixels for all the positivity I literally love you marry me

@iandoubt bestie. Partner in crime. Love your art but I love our shenanigans more

@julia-writes-things MY MANAGER MY ALL MY MUTUAL !!!! ALWAYS OPEN TO RANT AND YELL AND TALK ABOUT THINGS ILY <33

@appleblocks great art I love seeing it on my dash I eat it up every. Single. Time.

@greyscaleplays love seeing you in my notifs <333 Also very cool username not worth much but worth mentioning

@insert-artist-here literally just a constant in my notes, such a big supporter, and their ART!!!!!! marry me

@aroacewithsleeves another huge supporter!!! Seeing you in my notifs makes me smile tysm for liking my dumb posts and letting me bother you <333

@moss-moths-eyes-and-whimsy YET ANOTHER SUPPORTER!!! ALWAys likes and reblogs my posts even when they're totally dumb and I really appreciate it so so much

@fernthesilly THE ART!!!!! THE. ART. I cannot express my utter love for their art it's so so so good. The style the colors the sketch asdkfkkg

@jupiterrr-art has such an adorable little art style and always likes my post I love you pookie

@ajthepeach SO UNDERRATED. the art on this blog is IMPECCABLE I love it so stinking much. It's a crime that more people don't follow them. Jail time.

Anyways that's all I can think of for now, if I forgot you I'm so sorry I swear ily <333 also I normally don't do this but I decided to do this one so hopefully I am forgiven for all the ones I skipped <33

positivity train!

if you see this or are tagged in it, tag a couple of your favorite mutuals/blogs and let them know you appreciate seeing them on your dash!

@h0neysugarfree @blueberrylovv @bequiteanddriveeeeeee @cherri-bomb-bomb @eg0mechan1c @fatrexicisback

[mind-intheclouds342]

Do it for them - Co-captain reader x Curly

Previous - FINAL PART - Bonus

"Let me see"

You mentioned while laughing, sitting in front of the man who looked at you affectionately as you touched his face and observed him attentively.

"Your eye looks a bit red... Have you been using the drops the doctor recommended?"

Curly: "Maybe... I forgot them... today"

His voice was still somewhat strange to hear, it had the essence of what his voice once was, but much rougher and it was difficult for him to say long sentences, he had to pause between words to be able to say them.

You caressed his cheeks with your thumbs, seeing the scars on his face.

At first, it wasn't the same skin you knew; you were surprised at how his body returned to that familiar skin, changing its texture, gradually becoming the skin you love to touch.

You noticed the ring hanging from his neck, with the lack of hands, he wore his ring that way to keep it close.

He had to convince you to give him back his ring, but at that moment you were in crisis because you had told him that the day you took it off, you would leave him. Although you reached an agreement to annul that promise.

Five years had already passed since you returned to Earth, and too many things had happened.

On your side, you started following your dream when you were little, and today you have your own bakery.

But it was hard work getting here, because the first thing you worried about was your husband's well-being, who spent half a year resting in the hospital, and then you had to take care of him with attention at home.

Pony Express decided to give you a percentage of your salary and a bonus for the damages they suffered, so with that money, they performed the man's first surgeries.

A skin graft, hair, and facial reconstruction, among others, over the next two years.

He used prosthetics that helped him walk and pick things up on his own, although just in case, you still had his wheelchair as a backup, which he refuses to use again, and when you're not watching, he tries to get rid of it, but you've locked the room where it is.

You even adopted two dogs, the first was Jupiter, a Labrador, a service dog who helps Curly when you're not around, and he's also a very good companion.

And after insisting for so long that Jupiter needed a little sibbling, you adopted Sunset, a dog you had found outside your bakery begging for food, a golden retriever who had escaped from her home, where it seemed they only used her to have puppies and sell them because she was purebred.

Both animals got along well right away, both quite calm, they don't cause any problems.

On the other hand, you stayed in touch with the rest of the crew.

Anya was able to get into medical school a few months after returning, and she is currently in her final year to receive her diploma.

Swansea retired and stayed at home with his family and children, being welcomed by his wife and the little girl she had had a few months ago.

Daisuke tried again with the art school, giving his all and with the support of his parents, he was able to get in. He even has a blog where he talks about the experiences he had in his life to motivate other young people to follow what they love.

Jimmy on the other hand... The last thing you heard about him was that his sentence was extended further for causing conflicts during his time in prison.

As for the little baby... you found out she was adopted by a good family, and that was all you needed to know about her.

Curly: "They're already... about to arrive"

He alerted when he heard Sunset start barking upon hearing a car park nearby.

He got out of bed and went outside to open the door and let his friends into the yard.

There was something that became a tradition among you, every year you celebrated the anniversary of the day you returned alive to Earth after such an experience, having a meal at your home.

Daisuke: "Who is the cutest girl! Let me pet you, fluffball!"

The boy, every time he went, was determined to make Sunset his friend, but she always ended up hiding where he couldn't reach her.

Anya: "Today is a wonderful day... And the food smells really good, every year they surpass the previous year's food, it's incredible."

Swansea: "Not bad, huh! Did you make this grill by yourself, Curly? The meat looks incredible."

Daisuke: "Where is (Yn)?? I want to greet her!"

He had managed to catch the dog, who was resigned in his arms while Jupiter was barking at Daisuke, knowing how upset Sunset was.

Curly: "She has... a surprise for... all of you."

He said, smiling, waiting for you to come out in the summer dress he had bought for you, quite loose and comfortable, perfect for your growing belly. 

Everyone was surprised to see you, Daisuke was left speechless, dropping Sunset.

Daisuke: "But! You said-!"

"Well, not naturally—but... I was given the opportunity to do it in vitro and it was a success! I was afraid it wouldn't work because of my eggs, but... after several failed attempts... we finally got very lucky."

You caressed your belly, smiling.

Swansea: "Look at that... Congratulations, kid!"

Anya: "That's wonderful! Oh my God, how many weeks are you now? Do you already know their gender? Why didn't you tell us anything?"

She approached to touch your belly, happy that you have achieved what you wanted so much.

"I'm already in my 29th week... And we already know it's a boy! We were deciding on a name!"

Daisuke: "I have a really cool one!"

"I'm not going to call him Daisuke."

The boy let out a disappointed "aaaw" that you weren't going to consider his name for your son.

Curly: "We thought... of Charles"

"That I'm still not at all in agreement with that name."

You pointed at him, making him laugh and roll his eye.

Anya: "You still have time! When is your due date? I would like to be with you when it happens."

Daisuke: "Can I be there too? Maybe the second time I won't faint, hehe."

Swansea: "I wish you the best, boys are not difficult to entertain, they are difficult to keep alive, they love danger even after reaching adulthood."

You felt very excited about all the support you were receiving, happy to have met such wonderful people.

You didn't regret at all for having done everything possible to get them out of that situation.

The gathering continued with everyone eating and talking about the things they had been doing lately, catching up on their activities, until dessert time arrived, everyone's favorite moment.

Curly: "The best sweets... are from my wife..."

Swansea: "You don't even like sweets!"

Curly couldn't help but smile anyway when he saw everyone enthusiastically eating the ice cream cake you had made for that hot day, while he had his own special portion that you prepared for him so he could eat without too much sweetness.

You couldn't resist feeding him, and even though he wanted to seem annoyed, he adored the attention you gave him.

"Oops~ I'm sorry~ I stained your cheek"

You said with a smile to kiss his cheek, you started smearing hkd face with the dessert and left kisses on all those spots.

Swansea: "Get a room!"

Daisuke: "...Did you ever do it on the ship while working?"

"DAISUKE!"

You shouted with your cheeks red at such a true thing that had been said.

Curly: "...Two or three times..."

Swansea: "That's nothing, you managed to control themselves quite well."

Curly: "....During the week"

"Can I send it back into space?"

You didn't know how to hide your face in response to his declaration, you were extremely embarrassed.

But you had no escape, from the day you said yes, that man was going to stay with you until the end of his days.

And you knew well that he is going to be an incredible father soon as well.

In the end, everyone was able to have their well-deserved fate.

[claudiafrankie]

Pick a Card: How They See You

DISCLAIMER: TAROT IS NOT AN EVIDENCE-BASED PRACTICE. YOU ARE IN CHARGE OF MAKING YOUR OWN DECISIONS.

Pile 1: The Dog

This person sees you as having mastered the earth element. I think you are pretty detached with the way you approach your goals and it like doesn't compute in this person's brain that this is how you get the things that you want and build the world around you that you have.

They see you as someone who revels in the simple pleasures in life - sitting in the grass on a sunny day, stretching your body in the morning, a delicious seasonal coffee creamer. You are rich in the ways that count pile 1. You take good care of yourself and because of this you kind of exude a nurturing quality to those around you. Whether you intend to or not, you help other people get to where they want to go. You build people up and show them that they are capable of achieving their goals. I think you have a good eye for material goods and know what to splurge on and what to buy generic brand. Maybe you invest in nice cookware and knives because you know you'll use those for years to come, or in a high-quality bed spread or mattress. You take care of your body and appearance, you understand this to be an art form. But you also know that it's not everything. And this down-to-earth quality of taking good care of yourself but also not taking it too seriously or to extremes is really sexy to a lot of people. I think this person thinks that other people see you as husband/wife material. If you're single they're scratching their head like "how the hell are they not wifed up yet"

I think they see you as someone who doesn't stay in people's lives for very long, and they are worried that this is going to be the case for your relationship with them as well. They think you are in tune with the rhythms of nature and aren't afraid to let go and move on. You enjoy the good times when they come knowing they won't last forever, and you don't let the hard times beat you down when they come because you know they will pass.

I think they see you as someone who has learned all this the hard way. As someone who has been through many highs and lows, someone flexible in the circumstances you can thrive and survive in. You know when a tree lifts up the concrete of a sidewalk? That's you. Pavement be damned, you are going to keep growing and growing. You understand setbacks are part of progress. You don't let the hiccups hangups and obstacles sway you from steady movement forward.

I think they think that you are very loyal to those you care about, perhaps to your own detriment at times. I think this person sees you as someone who feels easily caged and needs a lot of space to try new things and be your own person. They see these two sides of you being at odds with each other at times, whether that is true or not.

This person sees you as being perhaps at times unwilling to open up emotionally. I think they respect you for your stoic disposition, but they think that sometimes you take this position/approach when it isn't necessary and that you actually hold yourself back a little bit in this way. Like you are a little blocked in your self-expression. Again, this is how they see you. It doesn't mean that this is actually who you are.

Pile 2: The Moon

This person thinks that you are in an incredible amount of pain underneath a calm surface. The card you picked, I just really tried to sense what it would be like to be there. Sitting next to a lake on a cloudy night. You have that smell of the freshwater and grass, and the sound of maybe a frog or two. Some light wind ruffling the surface of the lake... sitting in that setting depicted on the card it has the vibe of "something happened here and there's this weight hanging over the whole place." Like the trees are clinging to the ground so tightly because they are afraid of a strong wind knocking them down, and maybe there's a dock with a small boat that has rusted over from getting no use anymore and with no one around to take care of it or store it properly.

That's how they see you, as someone who has been through something, or maybe a series of things, that have deeply impacted you. And it's like you're still processing and aren't quite sure what the you that comes out the other side of all this processing is going to look like yet. This goes beyond sadness, this person sees you as grieving. Who or what I don't know, but they see you as dealing with some kind of loss. I think it could have to do with your family. Maybe you have been dealing with family troubles or grieving the loss of a family member or a family friend. Or, if it's not a literal death that you are processing, it could be that you are beginning to understand your family in a different way, a deeper way. Maybe your perspective on your family is expanding, you are understanding the pain and wounding that they have been through, and you're angry. You could be reconciling feelings of bitterness or anger towards your family with feelings of sympathy for the difficulties they have faced in their own lives.

I think this person sees that you are holding on to this pain and struggling to let it go. Maybe they sense a despondency in you, a subtle hopelessness. Not detachment so much as fear of encountering the same lessons with different people, of being hurt in the same ways again. They can feel a deep anger in you, seeing you as someone who is looking for their place in the world, wanting more than anything to feel like you belong.

This is really sad pile 2. You are so strong and this person wants to help you but they know that you have to want to get better, and they think that you don't even see the sadness, anger, and longing in yourself. They won't offer unsolicited advice, so for the time being I think they are taking the role of being a supportive friend and willing to give advice should you go to them for it.

There is some judgment coming from them. Like "why can't they just get over it" or "they are so stuck and don't even realize." It's weird, they want to help you, but they do kind of want you to lean on them as some sort of savior/hero/rescuer figure. I think they believe that you really want someone like this to come along and sort of take care of you. I'll say it again, this is how this person sees you not necessarily who you actually are, so don't get too fixated on their perspective - especially if it is not accurate. You know yourself best.

I think this person is equally invested in making you feel better as they are making themselves feel better. Maybe they think that your well-being is what they're concerned about, or this is what they're telling themselves, but really they are dealing with their own insecurities and need to feel like the hero to be worthy of love. Maybe this person is an overachiever, or highly successful for their age. They could come from a family where this was expected of them - to win.

So yeah they see you as a little bit of a damsel in distress pile 2. I don't think you need anyone to save you or are trying to signal this to people, but I do think that this person thinking that you deep down want someone to come along and sweep you off your feet has some truth to it. And I feel like I should tell you that wanting to be saved and taken care of is totally normal and human. We live in a world where it's difficult just to be a person. Dealing with deeply rooted pain while navigating the mayhem of daily living is incredibly difficult. You are doing a good job, pile 2. Maybe no one has said that to you in awhile. Keep up the good work. And, while there's nothing wrong with wishing for a knight in shining armor, remember who it is that has been saving your ass this whole time in their absence. ;)

Pile 3: The Broom and Whip

Hey pile 3! Lets get into it

This feels like someone that you had or have a romantic connection with but there was a falling out. They see you as someone who is defensive and in a lot of pain. They know that you are not the type of person to lash out and take your hurt out on other people, but they almost wish that the two of you could have it out - I just don't think that you are expressing your anger to this person. I think they could be concerned that this is eroding you mentally and emotionally, that you aren't expressing to them how you really feel.

I think you guys aren't talking right now and they are feeling this separation big time. They really want to work this out and come back together. You literally got the Lovers and the Two of Cups side by side - whoever you are asking about sees you as a soulmate, as their endgame. They are worried that this won't work out and they are trying to plan how to fix things with you, possibly asking about you to their friends or asking their own friends for advice on the situation.

This person sees how naturally cooperative you are with the people around you, how you are so willing to work with others and put your own interests aside if it benefits the majority - it's like this is just how you operate, you don't even have to think about it. They could see you as working on some kind of skill and gaining notoriety for it, gathering some attention for your diligence, attention to detail, and team-oriented attitude.

Yeah dude this person just thinks that you're it for them. The Lovers and the Two of Cups??? Come on. I think that even though this person is upset they see whatever upset is currently going on is temporary. It's like they aren't even entertaining the option or possibility that things are over over between the two of you. It will not compute in their brain.

I think this person thinks that you're pushing them away. They think that you are retreating into yourself where it's safe and keeping them at arms-reach. I think the way you are interacting with them now compared to the way you used to interact with them is very different - I think right now you are giving them friendly, polite energy but it's just a way to maneuver around them so you can keep them away. You are relying heavily on your manners to protect yourself in this situation and they can tell. They hate that you used to have so much vivaciousness when you used to talk to them and now they don't get that side of you anymore.

I do think that there is part of this person that enjoys the suspense and tortured waiting of what's going on. I think that they want to comfort and soothe you, to coax you into their arms and hold you while you hang onto them. I think this is part of a sexual fantasy of theirs as well, where they are the one to console you and then fuck the sadness out of you. They could be into BDSM type stuff, or if it's not that heavy/intense, they just want to test your limits a little bit. They like the idea of being the one to inflict some pain on you and then show you that they can make it better, that they can make you feel even better than you did before the pain even occurred.

It's hard to explain but it's not really an exotic fantasy or unusual I don't think, I'm just having a hard time putting it into words. They want to like........ stretch you? LMAO Like yeah just see... what you can take. And when they're done having their way with you, being the one who you collapse into. They want to be the person with the power to harm and to heal you. Not sure if that's your vibe but that is what I'm getting from this person. Very intense and steamy, if this is your situation then please write smut about it or something so the rest of us can live vicariously through you lol.

Take care pile 3 :)

[helslastangel]

Mini Observations #5

based on my synastry with a friend/unrequited love interest

Sun Sextile Pluto

Powerful chemistry. Both parties are left changed by the connection. Can become completely obsessed with each other if not controlled. Both Sun and Pluto feel a bit lost or displaced without each other from the first time they meet. Especially Sun, as Pluto is less averse to isolation. This is generally positive bit can take a very dark turn if Pluto has bad intentions. The Sun person loves the Pluto person "first" if you will, or at least expresses it faster and more confidently than Pluto, who will either lower their inhibitions and reciprocate the sentiment or give and withdraw their attention at will to break the Sun person's confidence and keep them under control. This is one of those aspects where when it's good, it's truly amazing, but when it's bad, it's downright horrible for both parties.

Sun Sextile Venus

A soft, supportive aspect. Love at first sight vibes, even if not acted on. Not the strongest connection indicator out there but the emotional connection is real between them. The Sun person feels happier and more radiant when around the Venus person. Very much "life is worth living when you're here with me" vibes. Venus thrives on the Sun's energy and is attracted to their charm. Venus feels the urge to do anything to make Sun happy ("Oh hey, I notice you really like x, so I got 3 of them for you"). Sun adores Venus and will protect them at all costs ("They said WHAT to you at work? Oh no they don't! Drop the name and address, who do I need to beat up?").

☆●☆○☆●☆

Pluto Conjunct Venus

Strong sexual attraction. Moderate emotional attraction. Can be one-sided or more commonly lop-sided in terms of willingness to emotionally invest. Karmic. Love-hate dynamic possible. Pluto person can easily read the Venus person. Pluto person can become extremely attached to the Venus person, who is aware of this but may or may not be able to reciprocate.

☆●☆○☆●☆

Mars Trine Venus

Again, mutual sexual attraction. The Venus person admires the Mars person's physique, energy and confidence in themselves and their appearance. The Mars person admires the Venus person's spirit, aura, general behavior and way of being. This is a comfortable connection. Warm. Both romantic and lustful. Likely to keep the "spark" alive for s long time.

Mars Trine Pluto

Possessive. Intense. Soul ties are very strong here. Can be explosive or have many power struggles if not careful. Mars person is the muscle, Pluto person is the mind of the relationship. Mars person gets things going after Pluto person has given it thought and come to a conclusion. Can have an on-and-off friendship or relationship. Or tend to drift apart and back again regularly, even if in very small ways.

☆●☆○☆●☆

Venus Square Saturn

Could go either way. Other aspects and placements can heavily influence this one. Venus views Saturn as wise and an authority figure in a sense, but Venus might feel restricted from expressing themselves freely and creatively. May feel a sense of always being in trouble, annoying or disappointing the Saturn person in some way. Saturn views Venus as a ray of sunshine-that never sets. They enjoy the exuberance and freespirited nature of the Venus person whether they admit it or not, but feel irritated by it at the same time. Saturn may be overcritical of the Venus person, leading the Venus person to leave in frustration or stay but become depressed, if other placements do not balance this out. This aspect can also indicate 'right person, wrong time' relationships, or one-sided, unrequited love between friends. Delays of one kind ot another are common with this aspect.

☆●☆○☆●☆

Mars Opposite Neptune

Difficult aspect to balance. Mars wants to do everything now. If it's an argument, they want to finish it then and there. If it's a task, they want to get it out of the way. If it's a fun activity, they want to jump in and immerse themselves in it. Neptune is easily fatigued, easily overwhelmed and finds it difficult to keep up with Mars-and probably does not even want to. Mars is also blunt which Neptune can only handle in tiny doses, if at all, leading them to need space often, which hurts Mars' ego and leads them to push even harder, which in turn leads Neptune to resort to white lies to get the recovery time they need to remain in the connection. This is a difficult aspect that is only sustainable if Mars learns to be quiet and slow down and Neptune learns to speak up and pick up the pace. They can meet in the middle, but both have to be willing.

↤ go back to the masterlist

[highly-flammable]

I still have so many thoughts about this scene.

It’s very interesting how regardless of what you think of Sauron’s motivations here, his emotions are completely genuine. Galadriel is someone who has believed in him, who has pushed him and revitalized him, and that feeling, that high he could chase forever. We see how lonely Sauron as a character is in S2, how he has felt betrayed at the hand of Adar, and how normal people (like Diarmid) don’t do anything for him. It takes someone like Galadriel with her level of power and wisdom, and that hint of darkness, to finally feel like he is not alone. That he has somehow been made better.

At the same time, you have to wonder why this is the moment that he chose to open up to Galadriel like this. In the scene right before, he seemed almost calculating as he called her name and stopped her from killing Adar. I, for one, am averse to having too much of a charitable opinion of this guy. To me, part of the beauty of this character in TROP is that he says and does many things that come from an emotionally honest place, but they end up serving his goals in little ways.

As I see it, both things are true: he could genuinely feel a connection to her and felt like communicating it (you can almost feel the words spilling out of him), and he also saw how this moment was absolutely ripe for Galadriel to know they were firm friends and therefore get bound to him. Their fight was seemingly over and he knew she was going to have to leave soon. He had to give her a reason to still have him around, and here he tries to do that. Galadriel is someone who has spent centuries looking for him so that she could destroy him, and this is when he sees that opening where he could get through to her and somehow make her feel that they did not have to be enemies. Sauron’s good at choosing the moments for planting seeds which will bear fruit later, and we will indeed see him referring to this interaction multiple times in the future.

Sidenote: Charlie Vickers has very soulful, expressive eyes.

Moving on to what I personally find even more interesting: Galadriel’s feelings. Morfydd once mentioned in an interview that when Galadriel meets Halbrand, she is desperate to feel anything other than grief. She has been drowning in it for centuries, and when Sauron pulls her out of the ocean in the middle of the tempest, their resurfacing is symbolic of a rebirth. As brash and headstrong and disrespectful as she finds Halbrand, she enjoys his audacity and his wit. She admires that he feels alive and seems to grasp at opportunities. He wakes her up, as much as she does it for him.

But between the two of them, Galadriel is the one still dealing with overwhelming loss. She is mourning so many of her kinsmen, particularly Finrod, who was clearly her guiding light, and also Celeborn. Different shipper camps will have their interpretations of Galadriel and Celeborn’s relationship, but I don’t think it’s up for debate that she had been quietly grieving him. It wasn’t enough to divert her from hunting down Sauron, but the grief itself is clear in 1x07 when she mentions him. Galadriel’s story has been a tapestry of different kinds of loss - the ones that are unexpected and come as a heavy blow like Finrod’s, and the ones where the realization slowly seeps in like poison and eats away at you.

It’s downright painful for her to admit here that she felt something poignant with regard to Halbrand, perhaps simply because she is so afraid of loss again. It must have been ages since she last let someone new in, and this person has rescued her and stood by her (aside from all the playing hard to get) when she was utterly alone. This is the moment where it truly hits her how much he has begun to mean to her, and having gone through what she has, you have to assume she is downright terrified of it, particularly because as per her knowledge, this is a mortal man, with no enhanced lifespan even, his time on middle-earth a mere blink against the ages she has endured and will continue to.

Their relationship has been coded as romantic from the very beginning (I would say right from the moment Sauron first tries to separate from the rest of the castaways in 1x02 and clearly plans to join her). But I don’t believe Galadriel in this scene would ever admit to herself if she felt anything romantic. It would be too much for her, and I don’t believe she is even in the headspace to think about these things . I have to say Morfydd and Charlie are right about one thing: romance alone doesn’t cover whatever they were trying to sell here. For both characters, this is a moment of a tremendous wall breaking down emotionally, and both of them realizing they have met their kindreds. This is the moment that understandably keeps haunting both of them, and I suppose will continue to for multiple reasons.

Sidenote 2: Galadriel’s little shaky breaths and subtly pained expressions are so masterfully done here by Morfydd. You almost feel like you are watching someone’s wounds being slowly, excruciatingly cut open again.

[nwjnsloona]

if the world was ending (i’d wanna be next to you)

kang haerin x f!reader

synopsis: what would you do if the world was ending?

word count: 1k

tags: angst, fluff in a way??, world end au, mentions of other newjeans members but this is haeyn centric, also 6th member ig

haerin found out the world was ending on a tuesday.

she had just left her local coffee shop, the bell jingling behind her, when her phone rang.

that must be yn, she thought, picking up the call without much thought.

“yn-“

“i love you.” she heard you say over the phone, your voice shaking as you spoke.

“is everything okay?” haerin asked, worry evident in her voice.

“can you come over? quickly.” you said in the same tone as before.

“of course. but why?”

“the world is ending.”

“oh. i’ll be right there, i love you.”

“i love you too.”

you heard the beep of the phone as haerin hung up and you slid down the wall, staring at the floor blankly as you cupped your face in your hands.

the tv droned on in the background, and you could just about make out some more information about the exact details of how the world would be destroyed over the constant train of your thoughts. you decided that sitting around wasn’t a very good use of your last moments, so you picked up your phone again and called minji.

she picked up almost immediately, “i guess you’ve heard.”

“i… have. are you with hanni?”

“yeah, hanni and dani are both here.”

“have you called hyein yet?”

“dani did.”

“what did she say?”

“uhhh…” you heard some muffled voices on the other end. “she’s still on the phone now.”

“do you think me and haerin can make it there if we drive?”

“literally everyone’s driving right now. there’s no chance.”

there was a pause, and though you couldn’t see minji’s face, you knew what expression she was making.

“minji,” you whispered, like it was a secret. “i’m scared.”

“me too.” she confessed. “i’ll- i’ll miss you.”

“i’ll miss you too.“ you let out a stifled sob as you let it sink in— the world was ending, and you were all going to die.

you didn’t want to die. you and haerin had finally moved out of the dorms into your own apartment, and that was recently.

it was just kind of… unbelievable that this morning was the last morning you would ever spend together. and this afternoon was the last afternoon before you died.

you found some solace in the fact that today was your off day and you didn’t have any schedules.

the door unlocked with a click as haerin rushed in, hurriedly taking her shoes off and running over to you. she held your face gently in her hands, softly tracing circles with her thumb.

“it’s going to be okay.” she said, her eyes meeting yours.

“but what about our future together?” you looked up at her, your eyes glistening. “what about us?”

her arms wrapped around you, and you breathed in her scent. she smelled just like she usually did— floral perfume and jasmine shampoo, and you wondered how this could be so normal when everything else seemed to be tipped upside down.

a tear slipped down your cheek as minji’s voice sounded from your phone.

“hello? yn? are you there?”

“minji unnie!” haerin exclaimed.

“haerin? are you at yours now?”

“no, i’m with hyein.”

“what?”

“i’m kidding, how would i be using yn’s phone in america?”

“i don’t know,” minji sighed. then, in a smaller voice, she said “i’m glad you’re safe, haerinnie.”

“you too, unnie.”

there was a long pause, where all three of you tried to take in each other’s presence for the last time. then, minji spoke.

“i’m… going to hang up now. i love you.”

something about it seemed so final, but at the same time, you couldn’t imagine that tomorrow, you wouldn’t wake up and call minji because you were late for pick up time and she wouldn’t sigh and tell the manager that they would have to wait— that tomorrow, you wouldn’t wake up at all.

“i love you too!” haerin replied, and you repeated her words.

the three beeps sounded signifying the end of the call, and that was that.

“the last time we ever talk to minji,” you said, bitterness seeping into your tone.

“it feels so… surreal.”

haerin stared blankly at the wall.

“how are you so calm right now?”

“i mean, if these are my last moments on earth, i want to spend them happy, with you.”

you stopped, contemplating her words. then, you reached your arms out, and haerin smiled, rushing into your arms.

“you know all the things we put off saying we’ll do them another time?”

“yeah?”

“well we can’t do them another time, so let’s do them now.”

the next few hours were spent doing things you loved— baking cookies, and making a cake for your anniversary which had passed a few days ago. you ate them all, not caring about the restrictive diet your company had set. you drew each other, laughing at the end result, and looked through your camera rolls, reminiscing the past.

(“we were so young back then,” you smiled, looking at a selfie all of newjeans had taken.

“i know! we look like babies.”

haerin scrolled to the next picture— “wait! you’re not allowed to see that!” she said, hurriedly changing the picture again.

“i wanna see!” you complained, reaching for her phone. she held it up out of your grasp, but you had a trick up your sleeve.

“HEY!” she yelled between laughter. “STOP- STOP TICKLING ME!”

“give me your phone.”)

finally, you both crawled into bed— haerin lay on top of you, resting her head onf your chest.

“i love you.” you said, smiling. you felt your eyes fill up with tears. “let’s meet in the next life.” it felt so final, like it was the end, the last time you would ever say it.

“i love you too.” she looked up at you, a singular teardrop rolling down her cheek.

and despite the fact the world was falling apart, you felt whole.

a/n: sorry the pacing is AWFUL i write all my fics like five words at a time 10 mins before sleep

[suzukiblu]

Day eleven of “obligatory sugar baby Kon” behind the cut. tw: implications of past grooming/abuse and the inherent problems that causes for someone who was in that situation and hasn’t processed it trying to have a relationship with someone actually age-appropriate. prev: (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Uh–is it?” he asks, not really sure what else to say. Or more like, not really sure what else to say that would not sound both desperately, desperately horny and desperately, desperately weird. 

“I dunno,” Kon replies, giving him a quick, sheepish little smile. “Just makes me feel good, that you think I’m worth, like–taking out and showing off, or whatever. Like–without the S-shield on, even.” 

“The S-shield would definitely make date night a lot harder to enjoy, yeah,” Tim says, torn between wanting to kiss him and wanting to dissolve the entire entertainment industry and all of Kon’s previous romantic interests in acid from the ground up. Slowly. Kon blushes again, his smile widening. 

“And, uh–and that,” he says, glancing sidelong. “And that you wanna hang out with me without anybody interruptin’.” 

I want to hang out with you until I overthrow Gotham AND Metropolis and then I want to install a zeta between them and the biggest beachfront property you’ll let me buy for you and any little Kon 2.0’s you let me make you, Tim’s most insane self thinks and his slightly more rational current self does not say, because he has at least some small and tiny and miniscule scraps of self-control. 

Like, barely, and only lasting until the fifteen-year sidekick-to-supervillain plan goes off, but still. 

“I definitely don’t want anyone interrupting, no,” he agrees instead, and Kon beams at him again and then ducks in and kisses him again–just a quick little peck, but definitely still a kiss. Tim, belatedly, realizes that Kon might actually be getting more up in his space than he was before the whole . . . script issue happened. Just–standing closer, and leaning in a little more often, and things like that. Not in a demanding way or anything; just like he wants to be there a little more often. 

Like maybe he’s a little more comfortable being there, now. Or like maybe he thinks he can do it without anything being–expected from it, maybe. 

Tim doesn’t even know if Kon’s doing it on purpose or not, but he’s definitely noticing a difference either way. Just–there is very much a difference there to be noticed. 

He is definitely, definitely not going to be able to find out who any of Kon’s exes are before he goes supervillain. That’s just not going to work out for his timeline at all. 

Also Bruce would absolutely get upset if he found out about whatever he ended up doing about it, and he’s an emotional support sidekick, not, like, an intern or whatever. He is not here to cause problems, he is here to facilitate Bruce’s mental health, help him manage his paranoia, and minimize the amount of overkill beatings of petty thugs and small-time criminals. 

Admittedly Bruce managing his paranoia is not going great, but it’s a process, alright? He’s doing his best here. 

“So like, if we do go shopping again, wanna pick something out for me to wear for you next time?” Kon asks, still beaming at him. Tim’s brain attempts to reboot a couple dozen times before he manages to remember how to string a coherent sentence together. 

“Yes,” he says in an almost normal-person voice. Maybe. Theoretically. He . . . hopes, anyway. “Uh–yeah. That sounds, uh–like something I would like to do.” 

It’s a little harder to focus on the supervillain thoughts with Kon both wearing that expression and actually asking him to buy him something–especially specifically something he wants to wear for him–so that’s helpful for keeping to his timeline. But also, uh–embarrassing, kind of, because usually Tim is better at thinking than he currently is being. Like, his normal thought processes are a lot more involved than Kon’s so hot and Kon’s so CUTE and hurr durr pretty boy. 

He definitely still wants to ruin some people’s lives, but first he wants to get Kon dinner and dessert and buy out a boutique or four for him, and just like, a small suburb. Or town. City. Tri-state area. 

And also to pick out something for him to wear “next time”, since apparently Kon still wants there to be a next time that he sees Tim Drake and also just like . . . just the whole thing with the picking out something for him to wear thing, because Tim only has so much self-control, alright? He is doing his best here, but he’s only an emotional support sidekick, alright, he’s not made of stone. 

Seriously, Kon asked him to dress him and asked him to buy him something. Tim is not actually sure if he’s more thrilled about actually getting Kon to specifically ask him to buy something for him or frazzled over Kon offering to let him pick out something for him to wear. Just–god. Tim is just not even–Tim does not know what he’s feeling right now. Just–whatever it is, he is feeling it. 

He wonders if it would be, like, a little too pathetic of him to maybe get Kon another crop top. Or, uh, a little too thirsty of him. 

. . . probably, yeah. Probably definitely, in fact. 

. . . . . . but like, if Kon sees one he likes, it's not like Tim's gonna say no or–

Anyway. 

[nottswitch]

Hi can I request 64 with Theo! Fluff please

<3

hi there, thanks for requesting 💘 with horror, i’ve realized that i haven’t written any theo fluff with these prompts yet, which i’m very happy to rectify right now.

prompt list

64. "…cake? seriously, now?!"

۶ৎ navigation ; masterlist ; theo m-list ; how to request

candlelight flickered in the corridor, casting trembling shadows onto the stone walls of the castle. the atmosphere would be rather eerie if not for the loud grumble of your stomach, which, to your embarrassment, echoed in the empty halls. thankfully, they were actually empty, and the door to the hogwarts kitchens was already right in front of you.

making sure that no patrolling prefects could sneak up on you, you tickled the pear on the painting, wincing as it giggled, and pulled the door handle, praying it wouldn’t creak. inside, house elves were already out for the night, which made the whole affair a bit easier for you. your eyes searched the numerous tables, and finally, finally landed on something you’ve been craving for ever since dinner – chocolate cake. absolutely delicious, drool-inducing chocolate cake that you only got the smallest taste of, since apparently your housemates also thought it was a really good cake, leaving only the tiniest piece of it for you.

just as you were about to bite into the sweet, delicious sponge of the cake, a weight colliding into your body nearly sent your flying to the floor. only a firm grip of someone’s hand on your shoulder steadied you, preventing you from a potentially embarrassing fall.

"um… nott?"

you gave the guy who simultaneously bumped into you and saved you an incredulous once-over. meeting theodore nott, of all people, in the kitchens way past midnight was not on your bingo card for the day, yet there he was, a piece of chocolate sticking out of his mouth, an equally puzzled expression on his face. the sight was rather hilarious, making you chuckle, and a faint blush spread on his cheeks. he kept his expression stoic, though, quickly sucking the chocolate square into his mouth and nonchalantly shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants.

"yeah, nott," he muttered sarcastically, rolling his eyes at your amusement. the last thing he needed was seeing you here, catching him in a shameless display of his sweet cravings. "…cake? seriously, now?!" theo asked, continuing on his sarcastic journey in an attempt to hide the fact that your unexpected appearance made him a bit flustered. or a lot.

"you’re one to talk," you retorted, your amusement growing as you eyed a brown stain adorning the corner of his mouth. theo noticed your gaze fixed on his lips and quickly licked away the sweet trace, biting the inside of his flushed cheek to stifle a smile threatening to expose his innermost feelings at the sight of you.

"can’t a guy have his vices?" he answered with a shrug that he tried to make as casual as possible, given the situation. you chuckled at his pretend attitude, finally taking a bite of cake, as if to prove that you weren’t ashamed about your late night escapade.

"let’s strike a deal," he proposed, leaning a bit closer despite his heart fluttering at the proximity – a feeling he refused to admit to enjoying. "you don’t tell anyone about our… encounter and i get you some more of this cake for, say, a week."

you thoughtfully hummed as you mulled over his words in your head. as much as you’d love to giggle with your girlfriends about catching theo nott in the kitchens after curfew, the deal didn’t sound half bad. "how awfully sweet of you, nott," you replied, your eyebrow twitching up. "is that all the chocolate talking?"

theo rolled his eyes again, letting out an exasperated sigh. "is that a no?" he asked in a flat voice, his lips pressing into a thin line as he waited for your response.

"never said that."

you bit your bottom lip, eyeing theo up and down again. theo’s heart fluttered again, something that he, of course, didn’t plan to acknowledge.

"fine, it’s a deal," you murmured, a small smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth. this was going to be fun – having none other than theo nott as your personal cake delivery boy. theo almost chuckled, stopping himself just as the sound was about to leave his lips. he gave you a curt nod and turned on his heels, leaving you alone in the kitchen, his mind racing with every possible outcome of this surprise but very tempting arrangement.

[too-much-tma-stuff]

What Does it Mean for Us

Previous | Masterpost

Jason and Ellie were at Danny’s side in moments but Danny only smiled at them. “Good, I wanted you both here, as witnesses,” He said, turning his back on and stepping away from Clockwork, ignoring his grumbling. “Will you stand by me?” 

“Always,” Jason agreed immediately.

“Good, because I couldn’t do this without you,” He said, smiling softly and took his hand, drawing him closer. He wished he could kiss Jason but he was still wearing his helmet, later then. Danny turned back towards Clockwork, finding him not frowning anymore but watching them both with an odd and unreadable expression on his face. “What?” Danny snapped at him, and Clockwork smiled slightly and shrugged.

“We’ll have to have a conversation about his role in your council later,” Clockwork told him.

Danny rolled his eyes to disguise the pit that opened up in his gut. He and Jason hadn’t discussed that at all, at the time when Danny had told Jason about him being crown prince. It had seemed such a long way off then. He knew what role he wanted Jason to take, but it might be a fight with the council. “Right, let’s get this over with then. I want to go home.” 

Danny heard Dan give an amused snort behind him and relaxed even more, and not just because he liked to know where his erstwhile brother was at all times when he was on-world. Having Dan behind him was reassuring, he was the one person left who could potentially really threaten Danny, and if he was behind this, maybe Danny would finally be able to feel properly safe. Clockwork gave Dan a look Danny could have sworn was nervous, but it was gone again quickly.

A few of the ghosts present grumbled he should be taking this more seriously, but Clockwork nodded and, though Frostbite frowned, he didn’t say anything so Danny thought he was fine. Danny stepped forward, and after a moment of hesitation and a subtle guiding gesture from Clockwork he knelt as he’d seen people in movies do when they were being knighted. Clockwork raised his hands and the crown of fire materialized between them, summoned by ceremony.

 “The council has come to recognize the strength of Danny Phantom and his honourable defeat of the previous King Pariah Dark. The Infinite Realms shall recognize his well earned authority and accept his leadership until such time as he is defeated in honourable combat. May he be a good and just king, guiding out of this dark age,” Clockwork said. He announced his words clearly, projecting to be heard by the camera, and the heroes who had gathered around in respect of Danny’s wish that the mortal world also witness his coronation. 

Clockwork lowered the crown onto Danny’s head. Or tried too, half way down the crown seemed to become too eager and leapt out of Clockwork’s hands to take it’s new place hovering Danny’s head. A wash of cold spread from the crown atop his head, through his body to the souls of his feet as it settled into its new place. For just a moment the green fire nearly blinded him before it settled into a much more comfortable soft blue glow. 

“Ice!” Frostbite crowed, “Pay up,” He said pointing at Clockwork with a wide grin. 

“Later,” Clockwork muttered petulantly and Danny couldn’t help but laugh, he doubted Clockwork lost bets very often. “Rise, High King Phantom of the Infinite Realms.” Clockwork announced, raising his voice again and moving on quickly from the interruption. 

Danny stood up and shook his head subtly, becoming accustomed to the new feeling of the crown. It was… heavier than he expected. With the way that it floated he expected it to feel like nothing, maybe actually make him a bit lighter like a helium balloon, but no, he could feel the weight of it. On his head and on his shoulders, and weirdly, on his heart? Though that was probably the realization of new responsibility.

“Good, now can I go home?” Danny said, exhaustion and apathy making him sound almost bored. 

“You should come back to the Realms and take up your throne immediately!” The Observants chorused. “There are thousands of years of task unfulfilled-”

“Well then they can go unfulfilled for a few more weeks! Go back to the Kings Keep, start putting things in order of whatever tasks are most urgent and begin preparations for any ceremonies that need to be done for the citizens of the Realms. I will come see what you’ve done when I have the chance. But I am still at least half Mortal, and I need to sleep! So get out before I make you.” 

Apparently now that he was king his threats were going to be taken much more seriously because in a moment they were gone. He sighed and let his shoulders slump, turning back towards Jason who caught Danny and let him hide against his chest. 

“They should have bowed before they left,” Dan commented casually. “You’ll have to teach them some respect, you know they forgot what it’s like to have a king.”

“You would know wouldn’t you?” Danny grumbled, glancing up to see Dan’s sharp grin and shrug. 

“Better you than me,” He said, completely unsympathetic. 

Danny sighed and forced himself to stand up, still leaning against Jason’s shoulder. “Do you know where you’re going?” He asked, if Dan wasn’t going back to space just yet Danny would offer him a place to stay. 

“I think I’m gonna go see where Ellie has set herself up,” He said, ruffling her hair making her squawk and swat his hands away. “Don’t worry about me.”

“Are you sure? You can stay with us,” Danny offered anyway. 

“Nah, I know you two want to be alone. Hood,” Dan said looking past Danny, he felt Jason’s shoulder tense a little against him. “Take the kid home before he finds something else to be responsible for,” Dan said with amused condescension. 

“Oh fuck you,” Danny grumbled at the same time that Jason laughed with robust relief and wrapped an arm around Danny’s waist. 

“I will,” Jason agreed and started to tug Danny away. “Come on Babe, let’s go home.”

“Come visit us when you can, both of you,” Danny said, waxing to Dan and Ellie as Jason led him away from the group.

“Do you want a lift back to Gotham?” Batman asked, making both Jason and Danny jump. Which was sort of silly since they had known he was probably around here somewhere helping with the clean up. He had left for a bit to check on Superman and they hadn’t seen him come back but they knew he probably had. 

Jason started to bristle but Danny rested a hand lightly on his arm, and when he looked down Danny gave his best puppy dog eyes. He didn’t really know where they were in regards to Gotham since they’d come here directly from the UN meeting, and he hadn’t been lying about being tired, they had been up for more then 24 hours after all. He could fly them home if he needed to, but if they were going to be offered a ride he’d much rather take it, even if it would be a little bit awkward. 

“Fine,” Jason ground out. 

“Thank you,” Danny added in a chirp. 

Batman nodded to them and swept off without another word, leading the way back towards his jet. He paused briefly nearby Tim, who glanced at Kon and then subtly shook his head. He would not be coming back to Gotham with them yet. Batman nodded back with the subtlest inclination of his head and then carried on, you could have blinked and missed it.

Only the three of them ended up in the jet back to Gotham since Nightwing had already been evacuated when he was injured. Speaking of Nightwing. 

“How is Nightwing… and Superman?” Jason asked, he cared a lot more about Dick of course, but he knew Danny would feel bad if anything happened to Superman.

“They’re both stable. Nightwings injuries looked worse than they were and he’ll be fine after a couple of weeks, as long as he rests,” Batman said, the quirk of his lips letting Jason know he knew just how unlikely that was. Jason snorted. 

“I’ll make him if I have to,” Danny said determinedly. 

Batman hummed in response and pressed a button on his wrist computer that lowered the boarding ramp of the bat-plane. They all boarded, and even though there were plenty of seats Danny immediately sat on Jason’s lap without any shame. Finally he let the phantom form fall away and was once again fully living and fully Danny, warm and heavy against Jason’s chest. He was reassuringly familiar like this and as they took off, Jason let the tension bleed out of him, feeling Danny relax as well. Without the tension, and adrenaline, fatigue was really starting to hit both of them. 

“It won’t take us long to get back to Gotham,” Batman told them, he must have noticed their heads nodding. The rest of the flight was quiet, but they stayed awake, and as soon as they landed in the cave Jason and Danny started to leave. “Before you go, When you’re ready Superman would like to talk to you,” Batman said, looking directly at Danny who fidgeted under his gaze a little. 

“I’ll think about it,” He grumbled before quickly getting on the back of Jason’s motorbike, who sped out of the cave before anything else could sidetrack them and keep them from their bed even a moment longer.

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

They slept for a long time, and the next day when they finally woke up they didn’t talk about anything that had happened, they just ordered a ton of takeout, watched movies, and napped more. By night Jason had energy to make dinner for them, which was amazing as usual, and then have sex before bed which was even more amazing. The next morning when they woke up again it seemed like they had finally settled back in their bodies and their home that they could properly debrief. 

“So you’re king now,” Jason said as they settled back in bed with freshly brewed cups of coffee, Danny leaning against Jason’s shoulder. 

“Yep, I’m king now,” Danny agreed heavily. 

“Not to be self-centered, but what does that mean for me?” Jason asked with a dry humour in his tone.

“Well, that’s sort of up to you I guess? You kind of can’t not be involved if we’re going to get married, that will make you my consort if nothing else. But I’d rather you be my knight, if you’re willing, and advisor of course. I just, I can’t do this without you, you know? Besides if you won’t be my knight I’ll probably have to keep Fright Knight, and he’s loyal to the monarchy itself, not to me. He’d probably serve me well, but I don’t think I can get over how he fought for Pariah.”

“Ya you absolutely can’t trust him to protect you in that case,” Jason huffed. 

“I don’t really need protection though,” Danny pointed out gently. 

“Still, you need someone you trust to look after you so you can let your guard down. Of course I’ll do it if you want me to, but I’m not a ghost, are you sure I can do the job?” Jason asked, a little worriedly. 

“We’ll make sure you’re properly equipped, I’m sure you’ll do a great job,” Danny promised and kissed Jason softly. 

“Great, so we know what it means for me now. What does it mean for you? What does the king of the Infinite Realms actually do?” Jason asked.

Danny shrugged helplessly. “I have no idea honestly, None of the younger ghosts I hang out with were around before the old king went mad. I have no idea what a king is supposed to do but honestly as long as I’m not a mass murderer I’ll be better than the last one so the bar isn’t exactly high. I’m sure Clockwork and the others have more expectations of me than that, but they can’t make me do anything.”

“Sure, just don’t let them guilt you into too much,” Jason drawled fondly. Despite everything he was very aware of what a soft heart Danny had even under the defenses he’d been forced to build up. 

Danny laughed a little guiltily and hid his face against Jason’s chest but he didn’t deny it. 

“I’m really proud of you by the way,” Jason added, stroking Danny’s hair slowly. Danny gave a questioning hum so Jason explained; “You stood up for yourself, you didn’t back down even though I could tell that seeing those people hurt was hard on you. You did what needed to be done. I expect we’ll be hearing from the JL soon about the first batch of GIW operatives being rounded up for you. You did really well, and you were more reasonable then those fuckers deserved.

“What are you going to do with the GIW agents by the way?” Jason added. 

“Thank you. It wasn’t easy, you really think I did a good job?” He asked, peeking up at Jason.

“Of course I do. And anyone with a bit of sense will think so too! About my question though?” He asked gently. 

“I guess I might kill them, or I’ll imprison them their entire lives. Either way they're real punishment will start once I get their souls into my kingdom,” He explained, a little bit of vicious glee creeping in.

“As it should be,” Jason agreed.

“I love how you enable me,” Danny joked, and Jason laughed.

“One last question,” Jason added, and Danny hummed to show he was listening. “The wedding is still on?”

“Of course,” Danny laughed. “Though we’ll probably have to have two, one in this world and one in the Lands.”

“Sounds good to me, I’m not going to say no to getting to marry you twice.” Jason joked and it was Danny’s turn to laugh. 

“You sap,” Danny accused, pushing Jason’s shoulder playfully. 

-----------

Danny was putting off going to the Infinite Realms, he could admit that, but he also didn’t know how long it would take him to get back once he did go so he wanted to finish as much of his business here as he could. He had already visited Titan tower to check on Ellie, Kon, Tim, and Dan. They were doing alright, Kon and Tim were feeling better now that they were sure Dick and Clark were going to be okay, and with some distance from the fight. Dan was planning on going back to space soon now that all the drama was over, and Danny tried not to let on how much that relaxed him. He still didn’t fully trust Dan to be on world though he didn’t want to let on as much.

It was while he was visiting them that Kon had reminded Danny that Superman was asking to see him still. There was a hint of bitterness there, because even though Kon had gone to visit as well, Clark hadn’t asked for him. Though grudgingly Kon had admitted he had been nicer this time then during previous encounters, warmer somehow. 

Danny had agreed to go visit Clark, for Kon’s sake at the very least. And because he had never really gotten the chance to look around the Watchtower as much as he would like. Every time he’d been called there before something had been wrong and he’d had to leave again in a hurry, maybe this time he'd actually be able to relax and watch the stars for a bit. He had to enjoy them now while he could since there weren’t any true stars in the Infinite Realms after all.

Of course Danny wouldn’t leave without Jason, and they couldn’t be let in without a minder, so Kon and Tim came along with them to the watchtower. Once they were there they split up and Kon and Danny (as Hyana of course), went to visit Superman, and Jason and Tim went check on Dick, Jason had yet to get to see his big brother after all. Once Kon and Hyena were done talking to Clark they would go join their partners and say hello to Nightwing as well, but Danny wanted to get Superman out of the way first.

Danny didn’t bother to knock as he entered the med bay Superman was in, barging in without a word like he owned the damn place. He only paused when he noticed Kon wasn’t right beside him anymore. He paused and looked back, seeing Kon hanging back uncertainly by the door he turned to glare at Superman. Trying to psychically threaten him into being nice to Kon and inviting him in, it didn’t work.

“Would you mind leaving us alone for a little bit Kon?” Superman asked. At least his tone was polite but what the hell?!

“He has super hearing, he could hear us whether he’s here or not. Why the fuck don’t you want him around?!” Hyena demanded and Clark winced. 

“That’s not it, but I would like to talk to you alone. Please?” Clark asked awkwardly. 

Danny sighed and nodded to Kon, who bit his lip and tried and failed not to look like a kicked puppy as he slipped back out of the room. Danny growled and stomped over to the side of Superman’s bed and sunk down into one of the chairs there. “So what did you want to talk about?” Danny snapped.

“I wanted to apologize,” Clark said, so open and earnest that it took Danny off guard and made him stop snarling. “I’ve been struggling for a long time. I was supposed to be the man of steel, I thought I was indestructible and undefeatable, that’s what people relied on me to be. When Kon was created it was a big crack in that and I tried to deny it, but I tried to keep it together. Then the idea of an entire species I was basically powerless against, I… I guess I was in denial. About a lot of things, and that’s why I tried to insist I could help, and did a lot of things really.” 

He looked down and plucked at his bandages with a wry smile. “I guess I can’t deny I’m not really invulnerable anymore huh? I am… very mortal.” 

Danny was silent for a moment, processing and organizing his thoughts before he answered. “I think I can understand what you mean, and where you’re coming from. But I hope you know that that isn’t an excuse for how you’ve treated him. You’re not invulnerable, you’re not infallible, you’re not a fucking God, and even gods are fallible. I should know I’ve fought a few. You need to get a lot fucking better at being a person.” 

“I know I do,” Clark said with a little sigh. “I’ve never really used the Justice League therapists because I always thought that I was fine, insisted that I was. But I think it’s time I did.”

“Good. And be nicer to Kon, he’s a really good kid and he deserves better,” He insisted, glaring hotly. 

“I know, I’ll try,” Superman said softly. 

“Good. Anything else?” Danny asked, cocking his head to the side and Clark shook his head. “Good,” Danny repeated and stood up, leaving to check on Dick and collect Jason so they could go stargazing together. 

[your-local-granny]

okay before i forget. i've been trying to put my finger on why people saying phoenix and maya are 'sibling-coded' pisses me off so much and I think a big part of it is how important mia is to both their introduction and also the foundation of their relationship and how calling phoenix and maya 'siblings/sibling-coded' waters down all of their relationships

phoenix wishing that maya was mia is a very big part of maya's arc as well as a big sticking point in phoenix and maya's relationship. phoenix spends the majority of turnabout sisters wishing that 'the chief' was there and when maya fails to channel her he shows outward disappointment. this is something that maya obviously picks up on and internalizes as we see throughout the rest of the games. most notably maya shows remarkably little self-preservation, throwing herself at von Karma's taser and in contempt of court to help edgeworth (and by extent, phoenix). she openly admits to feeling useless when she can't channel mia and phoenix never refutes this out loud until he of course presents the bullet to her showing that she wasn't useless. phoenix is notably bad at expressing his thoughts/ and feelings so its honestly debatable whether this gets through to maya but thats neither here nor there

on the other side of it, maya wishes that phoenix would be the caring adult figure that she was missing for most of her life (and especially after mia dies) and phoenix does not do a great job of being that figure. he likes her sure, and they're good friends, but he's definitely not nurturing or sensitive whenever maya is in distress. at the end of turnabout sisters when mia tells maya to "take care of phoenix" for her, maya starts calling him nick (because that's what mia said phoenix's friend calls him) and their dynamic for the most part is solidified. maya is not able to find mia in phoenix and accepts him as his own person and a part of her life as a friend.

phoenix has a more complicated journey with viewing maya as her own person partially because of the whole spirit-channeling thing, and partially because maya is younger than both the chief and himself. phoenix is constantly looking to a mentor for guidance and feels out of his depth for most of the cases in the trilogy. he frequently wishes that mia could be there, and is shown to value maya's ideas less, or at the least question them more at face-value. nevertheless, by the second game phoenix relies on maya greatly as shown with how he copes (or fails to cope) with her absence in rfta and 2-4, and 3-5. phoenix views her as both an integral part of his life and support structure, but also views her as someone he has to put on a brave face for, much like pearls. maya is phoenix's young friend that he leans on and wishes to protect.

maya's love for her sister is a core theme that spans the entire trilogy and culminates in maya almost dying in 3-5. phoenix's love for mia is a constant driving force that pushes him past what he believed himself capable of, and encourages him to trust those who become those closest to him. phoenix and maya's relationship is colored by their own relationships to mia, and how they view each others relationship with mia. they both represent a part of her that they never knew as well as a part of her they can keep loving in her place after she is gone, but most importantly, neither of them will ever be mia. no one else can be maya's big sister and no one else can be phoenix's mentor. they meet each other as two strangers set adrift by the same lost mooring, and though they'll never be secure in the way they were before meeting each other, they have a friend to help keep themselves afloat.

[ahllohehn]

🔱 THE GODS HAVE CHOSEN THEIR HERO! 🔱

>> about au >> au tag >> discord

By the power vested upon me (lol), I am now announcing the official winner of the Hermits and The Olympians Fanfiction Contest :] !

Once again, to remind everyone, the winner was chosen through amount of kudos/votes/likes and can choose from either prizes; a comic based on their submitted work or requested rendered art.

All submissions have been acknowledged to be amayzin' so I encourage everyone to read everyone's works nonetheless if they won or not :)

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FIRST PLACE 👑 OFFICIAL WINNER (42 kudos)

I will protect you (at least I'll try) by @star-cluster-nyx & @tallassredwood

Officially congratulations to our winners for the contest! Your fanfic has genuinely been a heartwarming experience. Grian and Pearl had nothing but each other, but sibling relationships aren't always that pretty. You showed that relationship dynamic really well in a very fun style and pacing.

Do tell me which one will be your point person so I could discuss about your prize :p ! ───────── ⋆⋅ 🔱 ⋅⋆ ─────────

SECOND PLACE 👑 RUNNER UP (32 kudos)

like roots, burrowing by @unreliable-bean

Our first submission and one of the works that won over our Mumscarian hearts </3 (after wrangling it around with angst for a few scenes /j). A mix of Minecraft mechanics and PJO mechanics is always fun! You fused them really well with such a nice pacing. The use of Scar's abnormal origins was a good touch to provide solutions to the conflict. Exciting writing as always :D

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THIRD PLACE 👑 RUNNER UP (17 kudos)

I’ll always be there (sparkling and shining) by Munchkin1156

Always a joy to see Grian-centric fics, thank you for submitting this! With the addition of the watchers to an unseemingly normal PJO AU, you've written the journey of Grian under their influence really well! A shame that the image still won't load on the link, but I would also like to say that your friend's art was amayzin'! An amazing drawing paired with an amazing work :]

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ALL MY (as well as the secret judges') FAVORITES :>

The Saint of Apollo by Nerdking14 Thank you for participating, genuinely. I know you've been writing about this even since before the fanfiction contest was announced and I truly commend you for putting your time, effort, and wonderful writing for our darling Empires campers. The way you adapted the previous small drabbles and headcanons to your story was exciting and I was happy those were done justice. You did justice to Camp Empires and I'm sure the gods would commend you for that too.

Oracle of Delphi by ethotek Mod [Hyunjin Yoon] expressed personal favorite to our dearest oracle. Extremely in love with how you adapted Gem's little complicated background into your writing. Lovely work that captured Gem's confusion and inner doubts really well :) This would've been a joy to delve deeper into through a comic, but let's return to it another time!

You were able to settle Gem into her home! But is she truly there?

It had always been just a game by Linny Heartwrenching, but captures well the realistic losses demigods would inevitably go through in a mythological world as teenagers. Gruesome, but filled with love for your ships' dynamics. Very good work :]

Again, thank you everyone who participated and even supported/read everyone's works. Although it pains me that I cannot give anything to everyone to show my gratitude, I simply wish you continue to enjoy your time here even if I cannot be much!

From the depths of the Underworld, to the vastness of the Seas, to the freedom of the Skies── Thank you very much for checking out Hermits and The Olympians! GGs to all participants!

[lairofsentinel]

Since this user's posts seem to have been deleted in previous opportunities I copy-paste their words here because they express exactly what I feel about this game. Dragon Age has died, unfortunately.

I'm a big time Dragon Age lover and have enjoyed every game in the series. Personally, I think Inquisition is the best in the series. And I was excited for Veilguard right up until I actually began playing it. Now, I want to clear things up at the start as to what I look for and believe makes a good Dragon Age game. To start, I DON'T CARE ABOUT COMBAT. I. Do. Not. Care.

You can make it Origins tactical. DA2 fast tactical. DAI hybrid. God of War action, I don't care. Dragon Age has always had combat that was...fine. A nice distraction and breakup in between the bits I actually care about: narrative ROLEPLAYING, story, characters, and exploration. I don't give a crap how great the combat is if the narrative roleplaying and writing are poor, I'm not playing BioWare titles for amazing gameplay. I am here for the story, the characters, and the roleplaying. Truth is, for a time I considered DATV's combat to be the best in the series.

And this is why I feel the game is a terrible Dragon Age, because it lacks or fails to respect those elements concerned with narrative roleplaying, story, characters, and exploration. Now, in many reviews and online videos you'll hear some reference often to the drop in writing quality. And a lot of time people will incorrectly say that the writing with the characters is to "modern" or "Marvel quippy" or not "dark" enough. I think these people are wrong, they recognize there is a drop in writing quality from previous games but aren't able to articulate why that is.

Dragon Age has never adopted any sort of faux medieval speech and vocabulary (though we'll get into this more later). This is a series that used "epic fail" as a thing someone uttered in the very first game. It's always had anachronistic dialogue and banter. So why is it such a drop then? Why is it considered poor? Simple. This is a game that does not believe in the world it has setup for over a decade. It does not believe in or engage properly with its own world and lore. I mean, look no further than the title "The Veilguard" a phrase that is never uttered by anyone in our group, and further proof it was a last minute marketing change. Compare to Inquisition where the title is apparent from the start in the game and has actual meaning.

You see, characters in DATV do not feel or react to events the way they should based on the lore. Why is no one constantly asking what the hell the Inquisitor is doing? The Inquisitor is kind of a BIG DEAL when it comes to Solas and Elven Gods, my Inquisitor drank from the WELL OF SORROWS! So why are we sitting around thinking at the start, "hmm lemme think who I can contact who might know more." The Herald of Andraste! They know more Rook, the guy that is technically your boss. The Inquisitor! Who else have you been working for this entire time? Who do you think told Varric to recruit you?!

But even removing the Inquisitor, the Elven Gods being real and also near synonymous with the old Tevinter Gods is kind of a BIG DEAL. It was only a theory fans crafted long ago that slowly revealed itself to be true. And it completely upends known religious dogma on all sides. Yet, why aren't people we meet going through a massive existential crisis? For instance, the Veil Jumpers we initially meet were presumably told off-screen about Fen'Harel, and are seemingly cool with this massive knowledge alone. But then we talk about those two other Gods being released and they're like, "well, shit those two aren't good." As if they have any clue if the fables about those Gods are real when we previously just upended everything they thought about the Dreadwolf! Why are you acting like this is another Tuesday?! Your entire religion is wrong. In that same conversation, Strife notes "Solas might be a bastard, but compared to the Evunaris? Let's just say they weren't know for being kind rulers."

My brother in Anduril, what are you talking about! Elven religion teaches that Elgar'nan was so beloved by the Earth that it "the land brought forth great birds and beasts of sky and forest, and all manner of wonderful green things." And that he fought the jealous Sun that tried to burn the land and all beasts away. Custom says that he and Mythal, "created the world as we know it" after defeating the Sun. He is literally described as one of the "good" Gods. WHY ARE YOU ASSUMING HE IS EVIL! It's like finding out Satan is real, but not as evil as have come to believe and then being told Jesus Christ is back and a devout Christian going, "well shit, that can't be good." WHAT?!

The same goes for Andraste and the Chant of Light, it took me 30 hours of playing before ONE character mentioned Andraste and the implications with the Chant and it was never brought up again. Our entire party is seemingly made up of unphased atheists. Now compare to something like Inquisition which explored this aspect HARD and was amazing for it. You'd get into great debates with religious figures and party members about the implications of Corypheus actually being a Tevinter Magister of old. And you'd talk about what it means towards the religious dogma preached and how much is true. And these intense political and religious discussions are present in every previous game, and not confined to a single conversation with one party member where it is seemingly resolved.

These conversations do not happen in DATV because there is no depth to the writing or engagement with the world. The Elven Gods are evil and need to be stopped. That's it. We don't need to think about the implications this has on Dalish customs and religion. Fuck it, all the Dalish are going to still wear their Vallaslin slave brand tattoos. Let's forget about Trespasser implying Solas was removing them from followers coming to join him. Let's even forget they were likely all told at this point that they are slave brands, nope still going to wear them yet speak blasphemy with every sentence against our Gods. No one cares about Andraste or The Maker or the Chant. Big deal if these Elven Gods contradict the overwhelming majority religion in Thedas. Not a single party member has religious or cultural objections to killing the Elven Gods; not a problem. Not one single elf wants to join Solas in tearing down The Veil and getting immortality again?

Again, let's forget about Trespasser setting up Solas gathering MANY Elven followers from Dalish clans who would be super inclined to join him after experiencing CENTURIES of discrimination and slavery by humans. The better question is what Elves wouldn't join Solas at the start? And what Elves wouldn't look at the other two Gods and go, "meh, maybe we should give them a try. They can't be worse than humans, right?" In DA2 you had elves joining The Qun to escape the discrimination of humans, but not ONE ELF wants to join Solas or Elgar'nan? Those Ancient Elves in the Temple of Mythal? I guess they all died, right?

This extends to EVERY single element of Dragon Age that previously had depth to it, it now has been completely removed. Those murdering Antivan Crows? Oh, they're just good Italian Mob Family that protect their city. Tevinter? Yes, it has poor people, but we're trying to do better. Oh, slavery? No, no we don't show that here. The Qun? The what now? No, they are all Antaam now, and so that means they are all generic evil warlords. No, they don't even attempt to follow their own hardcore view of The Qun like when Templars split from the Chantry, they're just warlords now that like plunder. Dwarves and their rigid Caste society? We don't do that here. Elves and racism across Thedas? Elves used to experience racism? News to me, what's a Shemlen? Never heard of that term, we like all humans. Pirates? That is insensitive, we are Lords of Fortune and we are sure to return any cultural artifacts found to their rightful owners; it belongs in a museum after all. The fucking Fade and spirits? Wait, you mean its different than generic fantasy spirit world? I'm sorry, that's too complicated here.

This either intentional disregard of the lore or plain ignorance also extends to environmental design. The asset reuse from Inquisition is particularly hilarious and must speak to the developers not having time after the switch from MP. Why are the same statues found in Val Royeaux in DAI also in Tevinter and Antiva? Why are those stupid Fen'Harel Wolf statues EVERYWHERE? Even in the catacombs of other Elven Gods! There are no statues of Elgar'nan or Ghilan'nain. Nothing for June or Anduril. Dirthamen. Falon'Din. Nothing. No, the only Gods that seem to get statues are coincidentally the ones who already had assets created for DAI or past titles that could be reused. Hmmm.

This continues into character designs too, why do the Veiljumpers and Shadow Dragons all dress richly? They are supposed to be poor as fuck. There's a codex entry about Veiljumpers finding a lost cache of old ancient elven armor and weapons and so boom they all get to dress like High Elven Lords and not the dirty, poor, wandering Dalish clans they are supposed to come from. Why do this? There isn't even an attempt to explaining why the Shadow Dragons, an organization supposed to be secretive, has branded clothing in bright rich colors and fabrics for all members. Naturally, it must be incredibly difficult for Tevinter authorities to not identify them.

This lack of depth and verisimilitude, naturally, affects all the characters. Because in this game you cannot roleplay and you cannot ask questions. In Dragon Age Inquisition, once you started the game, you could immediately interrogate Varric about what happened to every DA2 character despite the Inquisitor never meeting them, you know because it respects its players. You could speak to shop keepers, blacksmiths, your horse master. You could interrogate every single person to learn more about them and the world. The same goes for your player character in DA2 and Origins. You show in Denermin and find yourself knee deep in a quest to help Wade the Blacksmith craft the perfect armor. Here you can't actually speak to a single shopkeeper to ask questions and get some lore bits. You can't ask party members questions about their background, religious beliefs, upbringing, their factions, etc. You can't ask any returning characters any questions either about what they've been doing. Enter a brand new area? Great, you're not asking anyone questions about this never before seen place.

How does a lost Dwarven thaig survive every single blight? How are their immortal lichs in Neverra? How long has that been a thing? Why haven't they told anyone about the Elven gods or any other knowledge they've accumulated in an immortal lifespan? If immortality is so "easy" why can't Solas just do that to restore the Elves? Why are the Venatori, Tevinter Supremacists, following Elven Gods? Wouldn't that be a major identity crisis? Why would Antaam, who still preach the Qun, follow an Elven God that speaks blasphemy with ever breadth? Sshhhh, no questions. You get what is directly told to you and that's it, no follow-up questions.

Party members do not conflict with each other or interrogate each other's beliefs which is why their banter feels inconsequential and meaningless. Lucanis is a assassin, he kills people for money. The same organization that marked Zevran for death for failing a contract. The same one that took him as a kid and trained him to murder, often brutally, for coin. And yet no one really seems to care. He's just a nice Italian assassin from a nice assassin organization. Who cares. Let's instead talk about cooking, at length. Harding, a devout follower of Andraste, has no qualms with Elven Gods wreaking havoc on known religion. We get one conversation you can tell her to believe what she wants, and that's the end of that debate. Bellara also gets about two whole conversations about the conflict concerning her Gods wreaking havoc, both easily resolved. We don't need to think about any larger implications or doubt her loyalty when the Elven pantheon are seeking to restore her people that have been discriminated against since forever. Emmerich, a necromancer of Neverra, apparently has no religious belief. A codex entry even states that those of the Mourn Watch don't know where the soul goes after death. They don't like to think about it. Buddy, Mortalitasi belief is literally that our souls return to the Void alongside The Maker, but to keep balance a exchange must be wrought with The Fade to allow a spirit to house the now empty vessel. How do you not know the religion and customs of your own faction and land? This man has a whole quest line about funerary rights, yet not ONCE mentions religion and what he believes happens after death?! Sshhhh, no questions. No thinking.

Hey, remember The Fade? Remember how mages go to dream there every night. Remember how The Black City is always visible there? No? Well, we don't either. You won't see The Black City in The Fade. You might see it in The Crossroads in a closed off section, even though it is NOT The Fade. Oh, we're going to have you physically enter The Fade in multiple quest lines and no one will think it's a big deal. No, you still can't see The Black City. Now, The Fade is reduced to nothing more than your generic fantasy spirit world. It has none of the previous rules and lore that bound it before. Demons can bind to non-mages and we won't attempt to explain it. Solas fucks with The Veil and not a single mage notices a change in their dreams when they sleep at night. No biggie.

Lastly, let's return at last to the actual minutiae of writing. I stated at the start the writing isn't bad because of Marvel quippiness, which the series has always had. I was partly lying. Yes, the series has always had anachronistic dialogue. It has had meme language in its own previous titles. But, it was just that, a small joke here and there. For the most part the series actually tried to use it's own sort of "older" speech patterns. I think a perfect example has to do with Taash, she eventually finds her own identity and declares she is proudly "non-binary." Literally stating, "so, I'm non-binary." I have no issue with this sort of inclusivity in Dragon Age, it's what the series is known for. Yet, why does that sound wrong? Simple, it's far too anachronistic. It doesn't belong in Dragon Age. In Inquisition, Dorian let's us know he's gay. But he doesn't say, "I'm gay!" or "I'm a homosexual" those terms would not exist in his world. Instead he says, "I prefer the company of men."

And it's these little subtle changes in writing that makes it feel all the more different. We went from "I once ventured in to The Fade to serve the Old Gods of Tevinter in person. I found there only chaos and corruption. Dead whispers. Now I shall return under no name but my own, to champion withered Tevinter and correct this blighted world gone wrong. Pray that I succeed, for I have seen the throne of the Gods. And it was empty."

To: "Well, shit. That can't be good."

So, what do we have when all is said and done? Well, we have a decent generic fantasy action game. An intentional attempt by the developers to remove every edge from the world of Dragon Age in place of a very simple, easy to understand world with not much depth beyond what you see. You don't need to think, just play and have fun. This is beyond turning a MP game into a SP game, which so blatantly obvious in this game. DA2 was developed in 16 months, but is carried strong by its writing. You see, nothing prevented them from just acknowledging their own world they created. It costs very little to write around what already exists. Even if you can't make no assets or redesign the world. Writing is cheap and having characters voice these elements is not as costly as a redesign. No, they chose to remove the edge in every element because this was design intentionally for the masses with easy to understand world and zero depth.

But I wanted to play Dragon Age. I wanted to get into intense religious debates with party members as known lore is completely upended. I wanted to debate Elvish clans deciding to join Solas or the other Gods due to their treatment by human society. I wanted to debate the ethics of necromancy with the Mortalitasi of Neverra's Crypts. I wanted to engage in intense debating with Solas on the ethics of his goal. I wanted to see Tevinter react to a real push for anti-slavery and actually see the slavery in the slave capital of the world. I wanted to butt heads with the Antivan Crows and call them out for the murderers they are. I wanted to see the Black Divine and debate the Chant of Light with them. I wanted to speak to the Archon of Tevinter and see how he felt about the Venatori's past efforts in Inquisition. Hey, what happened to Meredith Reborn in Kirkwall and her idol and Red Templar worshipers? Forget about it.

We got none of this. I got a game that is pretty much disrespectful of its own world. I waited 10 years for this? Why even bother if this is the result? They may as well have just killed every previous character we ever knew, including Solas, offscreen and started anew with this game. Because as a Dragon Age game and sequel, it's terrible and no returning character is how they should be.

And when we get to the ending, that's pretty much what they did. Everything you did in all the past games? Well, that was pointless. Everyone is probably dead. King Alistair. Gaspard. Celene. King Bhelen. The Arl of Redcliffe. The Divine. The Circle of Magi. The Templars. The Seekers. Everything, everyone, and every organization that existed in the South is likely dead and destroyed. And now Dragon Age can become what they wanted, a generic fantasy IP.

But I just wanted to play Dragon Age.