#like sure there are some games with good story that also look pretty (looking at rdr2 here)

[justagalwhowrites]

Joyeux Noël - A Lavender AU Christmas Story

Joel and your daughters plan something special for you for the holidays. A Christmas one shot set in the Lavender AU Universe.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut. No outbreak AU. Fluff fluff fluff. Christmas fluff. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ only

Length: 3.6k

A/N: JOEL AND DOC ARE BACK FOR THE HOLIDAYS BECAUSE I MISSED THEM (and hopefully some of you did, too.) This can be read as a stand alone fic with the understanding that Joel and reader are a married couple with a shared biological daughter as well as Ellie and Sarah. I hope you enjoy this tooth rotting-ly sweet fic!

AO3 | Lavender Masterlist | Lavender AU Masterlist | Full Masterlist

December 24, 2024 

“You’re sure you’ve got everything?” Sarah asked, her son, Carson, squealing in the background. 

“Pretty sure,” Joel said, frowning a little. 

“Put me on FaceTime,” she said. “Show me.” 

Joel sighed and fussed with his phone until it became a video call, Sarah on the other end with a smudge of flour on her nose. 

“Busy over there, baby girl?” He teased. 

“Your grandson got me in the face when we were making sugar cookies,” she said. “I haven’t had the chance to get cleaned up yet, the kitchen is a disaster but that’s beside the point, show me Mom’s suitcase.” 

Joel fussed with the phone again - having to search for the little button that let him do it, not a fan of figuring out technology without the help of any of his girls - and got the camera to flip around. 

“So I put in some of the sweaters she wears a lot,” he said, showing Sarah the stacks. “Some of the pants she likes, too. Got this one dress she looks real good in, real good…” 

“Ew,” Sarah said. 

“Shut it, kid,” he said. She laughed. “Got the shoes she says are comfortable, some that are pretty, too…” 

“Do you have a bag for her?” She asked. 

“What do you think you’re lookin’ at?” 

“Not that kind of bag,” she rolled her eyes. “I mean a purse.”

“Wouldn’t she just bring the one she uses all the time?” He asked. 

“Dad, you’re going to be walking around Paris,” Sarah said. “Spending hours in museums and in stores and lounging at chic cafes, she’s not going to want to carry that giant thing around. In her closet, in one of the dust bags at the top is a smaller bag that Ellie, Evie and I went in on for Mother's Day, grab that one. It’s cross body so she can just wear it, she likes that when she’s walking around a lot. Also, do you have her hair stuff?” 

“Hair stuff?” Joel frowned. “Don’t they have that in the room?” 

She sighed.

“See, this is why I make you show me,” Sarah said. “Yes, there’s shampoo and stuff but she uses serums and oils and things, she needs those. Bathroom next.” 

Joel obeyed his oldest daughter’s instructions, thankful that the two of you were so close that she’d know these kinds of things. He got what she told him from the bathroom and packed it. 

“Alright,” she said. “I think you’re all good! Just let her get a book or five at the airport and you’ll be golden, old man.” 

“Thanks, kiddo,” he smiled a little. “You still good to take your sister for a while?” 

“Of course,” she smiled back. “I love Ellie and Evie can stay as long as she wants until she wants to go back to school. Plus Brandon could use someone to give him a run for his money on this new video game, he’s getting over confident.” 

“Thank you for keeping an eye on Ellie,” Joel said. “We’d like to get all you girls on a trip like this with us sometime but for the first one…” 

“It should just be the two of you,” Sarah finished for him with a smile. “She’s going to love it, Dad.” 

He sure hoped so. 

Joel had been planning this for a while. Decades, really. 

Back when the two of you were young and flat broke, a trip to Paris had been a pipe dream. You talked about it that way, the same way Ellie talked about going to the moon now, something that you dreamed about but didn’t expect to ever have. 

Then Evie came along. Then you were in med school and then you were an intern and resident and attending and Sarah got married and Ellie joined the family and life had just gotten in the way, as it always seemed to. 

But it had been a beautiful life and you’d never even come close to complaining about not getting to visit France the way you’d dreamed. As you’d always done, you put everyone else’s needs and wants before your own, constantly looking for a way to make Joel or your daughters’ lives better before thinking of yourself. 

But the Paris trip was possible now. The two of you had made more money than Joel had ever dreamed of making, Sarah and Evie were off on their own and Ellie was in a good enough place that she could spend a few weeks with her sister. Things were even calm at work for both of you - Tommy could run the business for a few weeks and Joel had coordinated with your boss to get you time off. It was the perfect time to finally give you something you’d been dreaming of as long as Joel had known you. 

Joel didn’t want to put more work on your plate, though, so he worked with Sarah, Evie and Ellie to plan everything. Sarah traveled a lot - she’d made it to Europe long before Joel ever had - and knew how to find a good hotel. Ellie told Joel about the different museums to visit, her passion for art coming in handy as he was planning. Evie - who had even taken after your knack for language - helped Joel learn a few phrases in French (though he was going to be pretty dependent on you to get around.) But that was fine. As long as you were happy, he didn’t care if everyone around him was speaking gibberish. 

“Dad!” Ellie yelled from down the hall. “Mom just texted, she’s almost home!” 

“Shit,” Joel said, zipping the suitcase quickly. “Stall her for me, will ya?” 

“Can do!” She yelled back and he heard her pounding down the stairs to intercept you. 

Joel hauled the luggage downstairs the best he could, stashing the packed bags in a room just off the garage so he could wrestle them into the trunk later. He finished just as the garage door opened and Ellie went racing past him to catch you in the car, giving him a chance to slip into the living room unnoticed. You joined him just a minute after he got there, flopping on the couch next to him. 

“Tough day?” He asked, putting his arm up so you could snuggle into him. 

“Just long,” you sighed. “That early start the day before a holiday made this shift feel like 20 hours, not 12. But at least I have Christmas off to spend with you and the girls before I’m back in on Thursday.” 

Joel tried to keep from smiling at the fact that you didn’t know that, by this time on Thursday, you’d be across the world. 

“Want to watch a movie?” He asked. “Your pick.” 

“Sure,” you snuggled closer. “But let’s see what Ellie and Evie want to watch, I’ll be happy as long as I’m with you guys.” 

He kissed your forehead and called the girls down, the two of them settling on Elf followed by Die Hard and you not even putting in a vote for your favorite because you never tried to put yourself first in anything. That’s why Joel was doing all this, to make sure it happened at least now and then. He made you a plate of Chinese food and you fell asleep against him when you finished it, still wearing the Christmas-themed sweater and earrings you’d worn that day to the hospital. 

“Alright, girls,” Joel said quietly. “Upstairs, Santa can’t come ’til you’re in bed.” 

Evie and Ellie shared a look before looking back to Joel. 

“Goodnight, Dad,” Evie said, getting up and helping Ellie to her feet, too. “I hope Santa can get Mom upstairs OK…” 

He snorted and watched the girls go to their rooms before laying you gently on the couch. He went and got the presents out of your closet and stashed the suitcases in the back of the car. He stuffed the stockings - you sleeping peacefully the whole time - and set up the living room the same way he’d done since Sarah was little before gently rousing you from your long winter’s nap. 

“C’mon, baby,” he said softly, cupping your face, thumb brushing your cheekbone. “Bed time.” 

“But…” you sat up, groggy. “We gotta set up Christmas and…” 

“Already done,” he smiled. “Let’s go, sleepyhead.” 

You sighed contentedly as he looped an arm around your waist and guided you groggily to your room. 

“You’re the best husband in the world, you know that?” You said as you burrowed against his chest once you were both in bed. 

He smiled. 

“Doin’ my best, baby.” 

*** 

You definitely missed having little kids on Christmas morning but having older ones had its perks. 

You woke up before Joel, your unreasonably early day - and bed time - on Christmas Eve rousing you before the sun.

Your husband was still snoring gently and you just watched him for a moment, a peaceful look on his face in the red and green glow of the lights on the eaves outside. You smiled. There was something so damn beautiful about the man you’d married more than 20 years ago, just getting to look at him while he slept made you feel unreasonably lucky, like you were getting away with something you shouldn’t. 

You ran your fingers through his hair, slow and gentle, and he stirred, smiling every so slightly before delicately catching your wrist and bringing it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your pulse. 

“Merry Christmas,” you whispered. 

He smiled broader, his eyes still closed. 

“Merry Christmas.” 

“Want one of your presents now?” You asked and he opened one eye so fast it made you giggle. “I’ll take that as a yes.” 

You leaned in close and kissed him softly, almost chastely, before moving down his body and nudging him onto his back as you went. Your lips went over the firm expanse of his chest, the soft warmth of his stomach, down to the top of his pajama pants where his thick length was already hardening for you. 

You tugged the pants down enough that you could get at his cock. You licked the tip of him, tongue circling his head before you wrapped your lips around just the very end, sucking softly at his precome. 

“Goddamn baby,” he said, already breathless, his hand coming to the back of your head as you took the whole of him slowly, tantalizingly into your mouth. 

Once you swallowed him into your throat, you moaned and held him there, sucking and savoring him before starting to move over him. You pressed your tongue against the thick vein that ran along the underside of his cock, making his head run along the roof of your mouth as he started to move in shallow, gentle thrusts, working himself deeper, groaning as he did. 

“Can I have that soft little pussy, too?” He asked eventually, sounding desperate, his grip tightening on your head. “Because goddamn baby if I don’t need you right now.” 

You sucked him all the way to the tip before releasing him from your mouth. 

“You can have as much of me as you want,” you said, breathless yourself. “I’m all yours.” 

Before you had the chance to start sucking him again, he tugged you back up his body, laying you beside him before rolling to face you. He gripped your thigh, tugging your leg over his hip and tucking your panties to the side before petting at your leaking entrance. 

“Good,” he whispered. “Just the way I want you.” 

The tip of his cock replaced his fingers and he thrust just the head of himself inside of you, stretching you enough that you had to press your face into his chest to muffle your moan. 

“How do you always feel so goddamn good, baby?” He asked, tugging you closer as he pushed inside. He tucked your head below his chin, one arm below you and around you, his fingers spread wide between your shoulders, his other on the small of your back holding you in just the right place. You were completely enveloped by him as he filled you to the root, everything about your husband completely surrounding you. “Don’t deserve something as good as you.” 

You just groaned in protest, not really able to form words, too overwhelmed by the way Joel was completing you. 

Instead, you rocked your hips against him and he responded in kind, the two of you moving slowly, firmly against each other. Heat drew low inside you, concentrated on where Joel was shaping you to him and you grew tighter and tighter around him, your orgasm growing sure and steady. 

“You gonna come for me?” He whispered in your ear. You moaned and nodded against him. “Good, want you to come for me, let me feel it baby, milk me dry, c’mon.” 

You let out a strangled little sob as you obeyed, your channel fluttering and rippling around him. 

“There she is,” he breathed, keeping his pace inside you, the tip of his cock pressing into the soft place within you that made your back arch and toes curl as he ground himself deep. “That’s it, baby, keep coming, come on my cock. Fuck, you take it so well, come so pretty for me, just keep… keep…” 

He squeezed you tighter, thrust impossibly deeper and you felt him come apart inside you with a needy grunt, throbbing deep and hard as he filled you, drawing your orgasm out as he did. 

You went limp in his arms as your climax eased and his hold on you loosened just enough that he could kiss you, his lips gentle on yours as both of you came back down to earth. 

“Dunno that anything’ll top that present,” he teased lightly and you laughed. 

“One of the upsides to not having little kids running in here at six in the morning,” you smiled before kissing his chest and snuggling closer. His cock was softening inside you, the combination of his come and yours starting to drip from you. “Can we just stay like this for a while? I miss you when you’re not inside me.” 

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his fingers trailing over your spine. 

“Course baby,” he said softly. “Think we got a bit before the girls start moving.” 

You luxuriated in the slow start to the morning, drifting in and out of consciousness with Joel’s cock nestled inside you, your husband thrusting slowly and gently now and then so he stayed deep. The sun had just started to peek through the blinds when you heard a toilet flush down the hall and you kissed Joel one last time before slipping him from you, adjusting his pants and your panties before the girls were knocking on your door. 

You loved Christmas morning with your family, loved the sense of joy and closeness as you watched your daughters open presents while you sat on the couch, snuggled up to Joel with a cup of coffee in your hands. You’d never had a holiday quite like this one growing up, always just you and your grandmother making the best of it. You treasured that, too, but it was different now, when you were surrounded by the people you loved more than anything else who loved you in return. 

Ellie was super excited about a set of really nice markers you’d asked Andrew for help in researching, Evie shrieked with glee over concert tickets for her and her girlfriend and Joel kissed you so deep when he opened the fancy coffee maker you got him the aching place between your thighs throbbed again. 

After cinnamon rolls and bacon and coffee made with Joel’s new toy, the four of you headed to Sarah’s, laughing as Carson showed you everything Santa brought him and giving Joel a look when he gave his grandson candy behind his daughter’s back. 

“Well,” Joel said, downing the last of his beer as your entire family sat around Sarah’s table after dinner and dessert, you tucked contentedly against his side. “I’m afraid we gotta hit the road.” 

You frowned, twisting to look at him. 

“What?” You asked, looking down at your watch. It was barely five. “No we don’t, I don’t need to be in until tomorrow afternoon, we can hang out and…” 

“No, Mom, you do really need to go,” Sarah said, a serious look on her face. 

“Yeah,” Ellie nodded. “Don’t wanna be late.” 

“Late for what?” You said. 

Evie looked up from her phone. 

“I just checked and everything is on time,” she said. 

You laughed, looking around at your husband and daughters. 

“What are you talking about?” You asked. “What’s on time, everything is closed. Are we going to a movie?” 

“I mean, we can when we get there if that’s what you wanna do,” Joel shrugged. “But you’d have to translate for me the whole time.”

You frowned, looking around again, all your children looking like they were about to burst with excitement. 

“Can someone clue me in?” You laughed again. “Because I’m at a loss…” 

“Oh, right,” Evie said, going into her purse, pulling out an envelope and handing it over. “Guess you’ll need that.” 

Joel was trying to hide his grin but you knew him too well for that and you just raised your brows at him as you opened the envelope. He just shrugged a little, his smile getting harder and harder to conceal. 

“What are you all up to?” You teased as you opened the envelope, unfolding the papers that were inside. 

“Guess you’ll have to look,” Joel shrugged. 

You rolled your eyes good naturedly before looking at the pages in your hands. 

It took you a second to realize what you were holding: a flight itinerary. 

You frowned. 

“Joel?” You asked looking over at him. 

“Yeah, baby?” 

“Joel, this…” you looked back at the paper, your heart racing. “Joel, this is a plane ticket.” 

“Is it?” He asked, smile apparent in his voice. 

“Joel,” you looked at him again. “This is a plane ticket to Paris. And it leaves in four hours.” 

“Technically, I think it’s two plane tickets,” Joel said, sitting up to look over your shoulder. “First class, in case you wanted some room to sleep on your first overseas flight.” 

“But…” Your eyes ranged over the ticket before looking around, all your daughters grinning like the cats who ate the canaries. “I have work!” 

“Well, see, that’s where you’re wrong,” Joel smirked. “Talked with your boss back in October, you’re not due back to the hospital for a few weeks.” 

“I…” you looked down and back up again. “I need to pack!” 

“Wrong again, Mom,” Sarah smiled. “Dad took care of that. And I checked his work, you’re good.” 

“We need to plan…” 

“I gave him a list of all the coolest museums,” Ellie said proudly, cutting you off.  

“And I helped Dad be a little less totally useless in French,” Evie added. 

You looked around at all of them, tears stinging at your eyes. 

“You all planned this?” You asked, a lump in your throat. “For me?” 

“Been a long time coming, baby,” Joel smiled, his large hand cradling your elbow, thumb rubbing gentle circles over you. “You deserve it. Have for a while.” 

“He’s right, Mom,” Sarah smiled, too. “After taking care of all of us over the years, it’s about damn time.” 

“You’re the best mom in the world,” Ellie agreed. “Figured it was time that you see some of it.” 

“You always do everything for all of us,” Evie said. “We really should return the favor now and then.” 

You looked back at the tickets, covering your mouth with one hand, giving up on trying to keep from crying. 

“I…” you sniffed. “I don’t know what to say!” 

“How about we just say bon voyage,” Evie said. “Because you need to get on the road or you’re going to be late for your flight!” 

You let your children usher you and Joel to the car and you gave everyone hugs as Evie and Ellie got their bags from the trunk so they could stay with Sarah. You hugged them all goodbye, having to dry your tears every time you realized exactly what was happening: You were finally going to Paris, a place you’d always wanted to go, on a trip planned by the people you loved most. 

Joel drove the two of you to the airport, you practically glowing the entire way. Joel didn’t let you carry your own bags and you were still in disbelief as you settled into your seat on the plane, a glass of champagne in your hand as you waited to take off. 

“So,” Joel smiled, watching you. “You excited?” 

“I can’t believe it,” you said, laughing a little. “I can’t… You really shouldn’t have done all this, not for me!” 

“Oh baby,” Joel reached out and cupped your cheek. “You’ve done nothin’ but take care of everyone else as long as I’ve known you. Don’t think I can ever do enough to repay you for that but you gotta let me try, at least at Christmas.” 

You smiled and leaned over to kiss him. 

“I think I can handle that.” 

He smiled. 

“Merry Christmas, baby,” he said. “Or should I say… joyeux noël? That right?” 

You laughed, his accent comically bad but so charming you had to love it. 

“That’s right,” you said. “Joyeux noël.”

[thethirdromana]

I'm watching the edited version of the War Games (it's on BBC4 right now and my parents wanted to see it), so, have some thoughts.

I'm normally a bit iffy on colourisation but this is genuinely very well done. The titles are gorgeous.

Squishing it into 90 mins makes the opening very zippy. The pace feels a shade too quick if anything.

It also gets a bit weird when the cliffhanger is turned into continuous action.

This is despite the fact that they only cut about 10 mins of episode one.

They drink a lot of tea in the War Games but it comes across as even more when you cut out of the non-tea-drinking bits.

OK, there's some very fun editing around the redcoat and Buckingham remembering the mist coming down. (Dare I say possibly an improvement on the original?)

But then it goes back to feeling too zippy, but least because episode 3 is brutally cut. Very little of it left.

Gah, I'm trying to like this, because it's clearly been lovingly made and the colourisation is genuinely superb, but the grinding relentlessness of the War Games has been replaced by rattling through the plot at a frenzied pace and it's not really working for me.

Ooh, Murray Gold's Master theme has been added over the War Chief's appearance. Not sure how I feel about that, but it's certainly an interesting choice.

They've dealt with the cliffhanger issue at the end of episode 4 by taking it out entirely.

The little added CGI bits are not hugely successful - they look oddly plasticky. Which is a bit disappointing, because have I mentioned how good the colourisation is?

It's taken my dad until the episode six cliffhanger to note the place where the original cliffhanger was.

(My mum has given up because she doesn't like how much fighting there is. Not sure if the original edit would have been any better on that score.)

Episodes 6 and 7 are so thoroughly chopped up that it's tricky to trace the original storyline. It's neatly done but it's not really the War Games any more.

More of the Master's theme when the War Chief admits to knowing the Doctor.

My dad comments that this bit seems like it was inspired by the Prisoner (which he also watched when it first aired).

It feels a bit weird when it switches from Murray Gold to 1960s incidental music.

This really centres the War Chief et al over the rest of the storyline.

"Complete loyalty and devotion" - oh, Jamie. This loses a lot of character beats in favour of the Time Lord-centric storyline, but not all of them.

Oof, their last desperate attempt to escape is still just as grim and desperate in the edit. Like there's still part of me wondering if they might somehow get away this time.

There are new Who-style images of Gallifrey on the view screen.

"Is the next episode The Trial of a Time Lord?" asks my dad, who has seen all of Doctor Who, but mostly not very recently.

The middle bit of episode 10 is cut, which means that I can watch the ending without crying for once.

Lots of establishing shots of Gallifrey.

The too old/too young/too thin shows a series of New Who Doctors. Not entirely sure how I feel about that choice either.

And it ends with the Doctor regenerating in the TARDIS - again, New Who style - before the date ticks back and forth erratically between 1970 and 1980, a joke that will appeal to a small number of people that includes me, and finally the very opening scene of Spearhead from Space.

I think if you accept the premise that a 90-min version of the War Games could be done, it's about as good as it could be. A few of the choices make it pretty clear that this is primarily for a New Who audience - particularly that it becomes a very Time Lord-centric story - not really for existing fans of the War Games.

Still, I wasn't expecting to love the colourisation as much as I did, and it made me wish I could watch a colourised version of all 10 episodes.

[rosieuv]

Just watched the 3rd Sonic film and it's so good oh my god

This definitely feels like something only Sonic fans would enjoy as the first 2 films are based on the classic Mega Drive games, which not only are the most nostalgified , but also in terms of lore are quite simple. Sonic 3 on the other hand, is based on Sonic Adventure 2, which has a much heavy lore due to the abilities of the Dreamcast making it easier to mix in story and levels. Therefore, if you're like my brother and don't know what the lore vaguely is, you won't find it as interesting. It's strange how all the clips for the trailer were in the beginning half hour though. It did make me wonder how long this film actually was and what it entailed. Either way, it's a very good film and I feel tired after leaving that cinema due to a burnout from all that action causing some kind of over-stimulation (I know that because typically I fiddle with a hair bobble but I just sat there the entire film either watching or frantically kicking my legs up and down at the fight scenes as if I couldn't go "fuck yeah this is so awesome!" in a room full of 10 year olds, then that was the next best thing to deal with the massive screen, massive speakers and my obligation to point out literally anything if a film is good).

okay spoilers here

The plot has so much action and it's great. There's no stupid plot with the other humans, which is what I was worried about considering the B plot with Sonic 2 and the Knuckles show. Instead, the B plot is focused on team Shadow, as opposed to team Sonic. In fact, the humans don't really do much this film as they have no reason to. I also find it cool how the Knuckes show ties in as the guardian of the Master Emerald is Wade (I think that's his name) and he appears for like a minute using it to play ice hockey on the roof of the police station.

The beginning scene is the best I've seen in any film. The switch between Sonic hanging out with his family and friends and having a race while Shadow just kicks the military's ass and leaves in such a badass way and then it all links with the military guys in the helicopter within the first 5 minutes as there's no time to waste and that fight at the beginning is so good that the marketing is all centred around that (to be fair, Shadow has a motorbike) and it doesn't take long to show that Shadow is very much a threat, to the point where I wasn't sure how the heroes were going to win as he was teaming up with Gerald Robotnik who has all this cool tech stuff, and Eggman was watching soap operas in the crab thing because he lost all his government funding and tech stuff in the second film and is legally dead (they never explained how he survived that but it must be some kind of chaos emerald plot armour). I love how they just showed him as even more insane then he was in the first 2 films as he descends from being a well respected scientist to hiding from the government as all he really has now is the crab so once they find out he's alive, it won't be much of a fight. It's also cool how he has the adventure 2 suit in the ending scenes with the climax.

Okay here's a list of notable things I thought were cool:

Shadow having a motorcycle

Maria actually looking like a human and not some bootleg barbie doll (I know it was 2001 but it's surreal seeing all those scenes in high definition with live action as I'm so used to seeing them as Dreamcast cutscenes with motion capture)

Maria's outfits looking more like from the 70s than the 50s as this canonically takes place in 2024 so 50 years ago would've been the 70s and not the 50s like in Adventure 2

Maria never really having last words as she exploded instead of getting shot, so it would be easier to manipulate Shadow into thinking that she would've wanted revenge as there's no way to prove that she wouldn't've (I haven't gotten 'round to playing Adventure 2 though so my knowledge of Maria comes from video essays, but I'm pretty sure Shadow was motivated by him miss-remembering her words, not by manipulation by others).

Shadow with high budget CGI

Jim Carrey coming back again (seriously, these films wouldn't be as good without him as Eggman)

Eggman dying for real at the end in a big space explosion as a sacrifice feels in character for how he was portrayed in Adventure 2

Eggman land in the VR thing

Knuckles still being well written (seriously, the writers really know what they're doing when it comes to his character)

The ambulances and police cars in the London section being actual British ambulances and police cars and not American ones (Hollywood did their research!)

Shadow's voice actor

The scene with Sonic and Shadow on the moon and all that character development

Shadow having his heelys

Tails is better in this film as he doesn't fanboy like he did in the second film (not a major point, it's quite subtle, but I like it)

The dog having subtitles for 2 gags

The blackout caused by Sonic and Shadow

Tails trying to save Sonic when he's falling into the Earth's atmosphere but failing feels more realistic, and it makes more sense how Knuckles was the one to save them both as I imagine he's probably done something like this before and Tails is like 4 or 5

The idea that the man and the woman that I can't remember their names but they're the ones from the beginning, going down the crochet rabbit hole if the main 3 leave for like 2 days is hilarious

The "Sonic getting blasted to pieces thing" in the plan was funny, especially at the laser section (can't really explain it without the clip)

the cinematic remix of that one song from Adventure 2

Wait...wasn't G.U.N mentioned in the Knuckles show? I swear it was...

In the first battle, Sonic asking Shadow "who does your highlights?" (and calling him "Hot Topic" later in the film)

The flashbacks with Maria fitting well with the rest of the film in a way that didn't feel clunky

Shadow commenting on the soap opera

That final scene with Eggman with the live stream reminded me of the broadcast where he blew up the moon in Adventure 2

The moon still gets exploded...kinda

The chao cafe (I know chaos are in the game but I'm not sure to what capacity)

The doughnut guy almost dying due to a slip up (not really cool but I like the character development it showed...and also how damn strong Shadow is that one punch blew doughnut guy into a coma. Makes you wonder how damn strong the main 3 are to still be standing after all the battles against Shadow...)

Shadow having a super form with Sonic (I know it's from the game, not sure where though)

Shadow surviving in the post credits scene made me in a happier mood when I left the cinema as I was sad he died

Sonic saying "gotta go fast!"

Okay nitpicks time (there's not gonna be many though):

The dance scene with the lasers was a bit too long

No Snapcube fandub references

It's never really explained where the crab came from or how Eggman survived

Not really explained how Gerald Robotnik got all the egg weapons too. They're not recreations as they still follow Eggman so how did he get them from the government? Was this part of the deal when he was released from prison?

Where did the Chaos Emerald go when Shadow almost died? He was in his super form.

How the hell did Shadow survive getting nuked by the explosion? I know he's strong as hell and was in his super form, but still.

How do the main 3 and Shadow breathe in space?

Agent Stone putting the full coffee cups in the bin really annoyed me like at least pour it onto the floor so the grass can drink it

I really like how Shadow was written in this film. He's not just "Edgy The Hedgy" like he's portrayed now (don't quote me on that, I haven't really been up to date on this so "now" is more like pre-renaissance) and his weakness is his own grief, which is how Sonic "defeated" him by talking to him on the Moon about not letting that grief distract him and that made him go to Sonic's side even though Sonic could've just beaten the ever loving shit out of him while he got the super form and Shadow was weakened, but he didn't because he isn't a psychopath. And some stuff I mentioned earlier like the motorcycle and the cool powers. Basically he's his Adventure 2 version but even more badass, and his Adventure 2 version was the best version and my favourite character in the franchise.

According to the Wikipedia page on it, a 4th film is in production. Personally I think this works better as a trilogy as how the hell do you top fighting a death ray that's going to blow up the Earth, in space? Also the main villain guy is dead and definitely isn't coming back because isn't Jim Carrey like 70 something now? I think it's gonna be all time travel-ly as it seems to be based around Sonic CD and that's it's main thing. In the post credits thing there was Metal Sonic (who doesn't really fit the aesthetic of the films as all the robots are egg looking things as it's set on Earth, and not space animals who got robot-y and so are a lot more colourful) and Amy Rose, who destroyed some of the robots with her hammer so it's clear she's not going to be like her flat personality in CD and be more like Tails I guess. It's hard to tell considering she only appears for like 15 seconds, but her first appearance in CD was following Sonic around while love hearts come out of her head, and then getting kidnapped, so I think her personality is going to be like her in the Sonic Boom TV show (she gives me "notable time traveller looking for someone who's important in the future" vibes). I feel like this premise works better as a TV show, with each episode being a different time period in each zone. Maybe this is just me wishing for an episodic cinematic universe Sonic TV show where it's the main 3 doing stuff on Earth and Shadow appears every now and then 'cause they have to be doing something with his character as he's shown to be at least somewhat alive in the post credits scene. I know it'll be expensive as hell to do all that CGI, but I can dream.

Yeah that's basically it. Overall: 9.7/10. Now my new favourite film. God I'm tired.

[7classyantiquestores]

I’ve heard some people suggesting that Veilguard is going to turn out being another DA2, and honestly, if it could scratch even a tiny bit of what DA2 accomplished in its clunky half-finished form, I would probably like it.

DA2 is a demonstration of BioWare knowing what their brand is all about, and knowing how to prioritize that over everything else. Legitimately it doesn’t matter to me how ugly the game is if the world is full of compelling characters and a tight, well-rounded narrative. Good writing and character performance can breathe life into a world, even if that world is just the same two cave and building maps pasted over and over. Just like having brilliant actors on a mid stage. Sure, you can see the stage ninja wheeling in the garden backdrop for the upcoming romantic rendezvous, but it doesn’t matter if you’re wholly captivated by the story unfolding in front of you. Honestly, I wish that upon Veilguard. Be a little clunky, have some odd quirks that fans will be divided over for the next decade, all that — but make the story something that will come grip me by the front of the shirt and give me something I’ll remember.

[exopelagic]

WHY DID NOBODY TELL ME BURROWS END WASNT FREE

[lenaswritingandstuff]

Dating the Slytherin boys (+ Harry) ▪ HEADCANONS

Requested: No

Characters: Mattheo Riddle, Tom Riddle, Theodore Nott, Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, Regulus Black, Harry Potter (+ y/n)

Warnings: NSFW mentions, English is not my first language

A/N: I'm not sure I like this but here we go. However I have to say I like Regulus' one so I might turn his version into a one shot one day (when uni won't be killing me slowly). This will include also the pre-dating/flirting stage as well. SORRY FOR THE TYPOS. Comments and feedback are always appreciated. Enjoy! ^^

Tag list: @helendeath @im-jesus

Tag list for this story: @anawritez-posts @pumpkinchee @alwayslatetothefandoms

Mattheo Riddle:

His feelings for you probably confused him at first 

If he falls first, he either won’t let you know or will do everything to get your attention (‘Hey, y/n, come sit here, the seat is free!”, “y/n, do you mind helping me with the homework for Snape? I can’t bloody do it”, “How about we go to Hogsmeade, just you and me?”, “you look beautiful, y/n”)

Your love for him always calms him when he gets anxious or when he’s upset, especially after his father comes back

Will tell you things he never told anyone

Would rather spend time with you than with his friends

Is terrified something will happen to you because of his father 

VERY jealous, but trusts you

Despite easily getting angry, he can’t get mad at you. Even during arguments 

LOVES sleeping in your arms or when you just hold him

He's crazy about your body

Loves showering with you, and we both know how it often ends

HOT, passionate sex

Will randomly eat you out without expecting anything in return (doesn't mind if you return the favor, though)

100% calls you "baby" or "love" all the time

Doesn’t care about what anyone thinks of him as long as you love him

Your love makes him feel lighter and stronger

You're his whole world

Feels bad when he hears someone criticize you for dating him 

Always makes sure you don’t overwork yourself, and makes sure you get enough sleep, water and food, and comforts you when you're anxious

Holds your hands when he's anxious or stressed

Will listen to anything you have to say 

Crazy about your perfume

Theodore Nott:

Struggles to express his love or feelings in general, at least in the beginning 

Has never done serious relationships before, and it may cause some trouble in your relationship, as you end up believing he doesn’t care about you

It causes many fights, and the last one will be the first time he says ‘I love you’

Always goes to you for comfort 

Loves sleeping with you in his arms, or cuddling, and with time he can’t sleep without you

Loves watching you sleep 

Loves having you on his lap

Always gets you great gifts (even randomly)

“Well, it thought it was pretty, and…it reminded me of you.”

Will fight any guy who is rude to you or acts like a creep 

Very jealous (trusts you, doesn’t trust others)

Doesn’t mind PDA at all, will gladly hold your hand or kiss you in public

Always has a hand on your waist or his arm around your shoulders 

Very supportive in everything you do, even when he doesn’t understand it/isn’t really interested in it

Isn’t very good with comforting people (mostly because he's not used to it), but will hold you and listen to you as long as you need, can even give you advice/reassurance 

Every compliment/'I love you' you say melts his heart and means much more to him than he shows, same goes for anything you do for him

Loves doing fun things, even if it’s just throwing snowballs at each other during winter (which ends in loving kisses, just savouring the joy of being together)  

Love getting in a pool with you and playing "childish" games during summer

Any form of intimacy means A LOT to him 

He's used to hooks up and "fucking" but it takes him a bit of time to have sex with you (despite being crazy about you and your body) because you mean everything to him and with you it's really making love instead of just "fucking"

The first time is loving and slow yet passionnate (eye contact at all times, hands holding, desperate kisses from him), and it gets a bit rougher and passionate the next times (but aftercare, which he isn't used to, is always on point and keeps getting better)

Is secretly very insecure, and is terrified you will leave him (especially for another “better” guy) 

Craves your touch and your love but won’t admit it

His boggart is probably you being dead alongside his mother

Will tell you sweets things in Italian

Very clingy in private - and also in public with time

With you he learns to be happier and discovers a happier side of himself he didn't know he had

Loves you much more than he actually shows at first 

Will often say you're all he has (and means it)

But with time, you have no reason to doubt his love and he’s the perfect boyfriend

Blaise Zabini:

Probably will court you like the gentleman he is

He doesn’t trust people easily and might be a little distant (while always polite and kind) in the early stages of your relationship 

But with time he becomes very warm and smiles a lot

Always kisses the top of your hand or your forehead 

Doesn’t do much PDA except for holding hands and kisses on your forehead

However in private he’ll 100% cuddle you and hold you

Dates in parks or restaurants  

Get you flowers at least once a month

Will always defend you against others 

One of his love languages is acts of service

Lorenzo Berkshire:

You either were friends before dating or he fell in love with you at first sight, there is no in between

Takes you on fun dates (arcade, funfair, theme parks) 

Can be shy at the beginning, which will make it a bit hard for him to talk about how he feels about you

Movie nights where you two eats lots of snacks and sweets while cuddling 

Always smiles when you enter a room

So supportive 

Loves when you're on his lap

He has no problem with PDA

Quickly willing to meet your family if you agree

He’s a great listener and mostly gives good advices 

Loves taking naps with you 

Always makes you sure you get enough sleep, water and food

Won’t let you get yourself into dangerous situations

Loves to go anywhere with you, no matter the activity and even if he just follows you around 

Many pet names

If you're Muggleborn or grew up among Muggles, he will totally ask you questions about the muggle world

Passionnate sex, will get rough if he hasn't seen you in a long time or if it's angry sex after he got jealous

His aftercare is the best, and he's always thankful you trust him enough to have that form of intimacy with him

Draco Malfoy:

Won’t flirt at first with you but keeps wanting your attention

Tries to seduce you with expensive gifts, and is a bit taken aback when you say it doesn’t work

Continues to get you gifts, but will make sure they match your interests/tastes, and keeps expensive gifts for your birthdays and Christmas (even though he’d like to get them all year for you) 

At first he doesn't show any weakness in your presence

With you he’ll learn patience and to focus of more positive things, and also to stand up to his father

Takes you on dates every chance he gets

Will ditch his friends to spend time with you

Probably makes Crabbe and Goyle carry your bags or do things for you

So proud to be dating you, it might even make him more arrogant

Gets grumpy when jealous but after a kiss on the cheek he’s back to his normal self 

Will invite you to his home and write you nearly every day during holidays

Hates it when Harry or any Gryffindor boy tries to talk to you

Surprisingly has no problem with PDA

Loves when you come to see him play during Quidditch matches

Tom Riddle:

Oh boy

It started with him admiring/watching you from afar, for a reason he can’t understand

SUPER confused by what he feels for you and why

Will probably try to get closer to you through homework or through books if he sees you read one

Will know everything about you, and will secretly follow you, saving you if you’re in danger with you never knowing who saved you

Crazy about your perfume, so much so that it makes him steal one of your clothes just to be able to smell it anytime he wants

After a while, he’ll spend most of his time with you without ever admitting he likes it

Will probably let you know his feelings for you after he cast a spell on a guy for being a creep with you 

Won’t let another man touch you

Will ask Mattheo for advice to be better or to make you fall in love with him

Will do your homework without hesitation, even if he pretends that he hates it, and will leave explanations so you understand his answers/his work

No PDA except for holding hands or your hand under his arm, but will make sure to stay close to you at all times 

Is a surprisingly good listener 

VERY jealous, but surprisingly isn’t mad or suspicious at you

“Did you enjoy having his attention? Do you wish for me to show you how my attention is better?” 

He doesn't stress over homework or stuff like that, so he finds it ridiculous when you do (learns with time to be more understanding)

Will let flowers in your room with a note on it

Pretends to not care about the gifts you get him for his birthday or Christmas but it actually means so much to him as no one ever got him any gifts before 

Nothing the others say about him gets to him, but he gets angry when he hears someone say that you deserve better than him

As book!Tom who grew up in an orphanage: he's secretly insecure about his background and the fact that he’s poor, and thinks you deserve better 

As Voldemort: Might be torn between continuing his goals for power or spending a simple life with you; is aware you’ll leave him if he gets on a darker path 

As Voldemort’s son: would do everything to protect you from his father, and if he’s forced to get the Dark Mark, he will makes sure you don’t know 

Possessive kisses 

Would hurt anyone who does you wrong

Borrows money from Draco to take you on dates or to get you gifts, as he feels like you deserve the nicest things, even though you keep telling him his mere presence is enough

May feel a little bit guilty that he can’t properly show you his love like “normal” boyfriends do 

Won’t admit it but considers you the only good thing in his life, and if he ever lost you he’d get on a dark path

Won’t cuddle at first, but if you wake up first you’ll find him sleeping close to you, with at least one of his hands touching you

Always notices when you don’t eat, sleep or drink enough

You’re the first (and only) person he will feel romantic love for

He has a bit of sexual experience before, but with you it's completely different - once you guys have sex for the first time, he becomes obsessed with your body and how it makes him feel

Loves fingering you

"You like it, dove?"

Even if you guys don’t work out, he won’t ever be with somebody else 

Would ask your parents for you hand in marriage, but honestly it's just out of politeness, the only answer that matters to him is yours

Regulus Black:

Like Blaise, he was raised the old fashioned way

Acts coldly towards everyone except you, his tone and eyes gets warmer and kinder when talking/looking at you, and you’re the only person he’ll smile at

You were his best (and only) friend and he has been in love with you for years

He hides his feelings very well, but one day you start dating someone else (thinking Regulus doesn’t share your feelings) but he can’t bear it and confesses his feelings

Always defends you

He’ll take you on restaurants or picnics dates, always bringing flowers

Mostly fine with PDA (holding hands, hands on your waist)

Thinks he’s very lucky to have you

Probably already starts thinking of marrying you during your last year at Hogwarts 

A bit jealous, but can’t stand it when Sirius tries to talk to you

Will gladly do your homework with/for you

Loves it when you sleep in each other’s arms, loves feeling you close

Loves it when you call him “Reggie” (only you is allowed to)

Will literally do everything you ask him to

You’re everything to him

Can’t stay away from you for long

Will get worried if you’re five minutes late

Always calls you “sweetheart” or “love”/”my love” 

Slow, romantic sex most of the time but sometimes he needs to be rougher

Thanks to you he’ll feel lighter and he will become kinder

You’ll even make him change his views on blood purity and stand up to his parents, and with time he gets closer to Sirius thanks to that (and you) 

If that doesn’t change and he still joins Voldemort, he’ll leave you a letter before going to the cavern, saying how much he loves you and how much you mean to him

Harry Potter:

Don’t expect any pet names from him, but he might create a nickname with your name (like he calls Ginny ‘Gin’ in the Cursed Child) 

His love languages are fierce protectiveness, loyalty and a patience he didn’t knew he had

Has no problem with PDA because he doesn’t care about what other people think  

Loves cuddles

Rarely gets mad at you, and feels guilty when he does

Mostly gets mad at you when you hurt yourself (for example during Quidditch) but it's also because he was scared for you

Hot kisses in private

Will be jealous if he sees you with another guy 

He’s passionate in a lot of things he does, and it includes you and everything you do

Will fiercely defend you again anyone, can even throw hands

Gets FURIOUS when Umbridge hurts you during detention, and will cuddle you for hours and do everything he can to make the pain disappear

Knows people are mean to you during fifth year because you're dating him and he hates it

During that year the only peace he feels is when he's holding you or when you sleep in his arms (it's also the only time he doesn't get nightmares)

Very supportive 

Loves getting you gifts 

You make him feel SO happy, he’ll just keep smiling for no reason 

Gets more and more clingy with time

Always write to you during the holidays (you always invite him to come to your house)

I'm not sure about sex while you guys are at Hogwarts but he 100% feels lust for you, there will definitely be hot making sessions when you guys are alone in a dark corner of the castle and it often ends up with you against the wall with your legs around his waist while he kisses your neck and caresses your legs

However sometimes he just can't stop himself and will eat you out (even maybe finger you at the same time), and will be proud when you come

Any act of service you do for him means a lot

You're always worried about him when he's at the Dursleys but he reassures you that he's fine

Comes to you in the middle of the night if he has a nightmare and generally comes to you for comfort or to rant 

Needs you more than ever after Voldemort comes back and after Sirius’ death 

Misses you like crazy during his quest for Horcruxes, and he can’t bear the thought of something happening to you 

Might struggle to show it, but he knows and is thankful of how patient and comprehensive you are with him, and that makes him want to be the best boyfriend he can be

Terrified Voldemort might hurt/kill you

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[mv1simp]

I love your stories so much, please write more dark manipulative Max, maybe something with mindbreak or bimbofication of an innocent reader? It would be fun if she was Toto's daughter and Max so holds it over Toto.

this is for all the dark!Max/toto’s daughter/bimbo/mindbreak reader requests all you freaks have been requesting 😼😼 for the first time i have something for the dark!lando girlies!!

Double Fantasy ♥️

Max Verstappen x Lando’s Fuckbuddy!Reader

I can tell that you think that I’m right for you, I already know that it's not true, but girl I'll lie to you (even though it's wrong)

Recently becoming a media executive for the FIA, you can’t deny that your dream job has given you access to your dream men. Sadly, your top pick, Max Verstappen doesn’t look twice your way - not interested in the daughter of Toto Wolff, who he openly dislikes. But you gladly enjoy your consolation prize of being Lando Norris’s fuckbuddy. You didn’t realise just how far Lando planned on extending your arrangement when he pisses the Dutch champion off one step too far - and now needs to figure out the perfect gift to give Max and make amends.

Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, dark! max, dark! Lando, but bimbo!reader is into it lol, have done a twist on the usual innocent! reader, she’s toto’s daughter also, dubcon, blindfold, BDSM, no threesomes sorry I can’t share max with anyone else, WC 5.6k

Multiple heads turn your way as you make your way down the FIA garage, your YSL black and gold heels clicking smoothly on the floor. You can’t hold back the pleased smile on your pink glossed lips at the appreciative glances over your curvy figure. At 22, you’ve landed your dream job as a marketing and media executive for the FIA. Glowing recommendations, a perfect GPA and of course a touch of good old fashioned nepotism via your dad, the Mercedes team principal Toto Wolff, landed you here, dressed in luxury outfits and regularly networking with some of the richest people on the continent. What can you say? You’re a material girl, after all, with a pleasure for the finer things in life.

And that included an appreciation of rich, powerful men that you inherited as a result of a strict and emotionless father who preferred to spend his time running a motorsports corporation instead of at home. Daddy issues, one might even say (actually your therapist had said exactly that.) So the Formula One grid, filled to the brim with hot, millionaire drivers who have no issue flirting with the new pretty little toy on the paddock, was the perfect place for a girl like you to work. You definitely had your fun, arriving a few months ago for your first day, dressed in a tight yet full length maxi dress, giving you the perfect blend of sexy and demure that had much of the paddock panting after you.

But you were a girl with a taste for luxury - you weren’t going to settle for any dirty mechanic or plain news reporter. No, what you wanted more than anything, was to get the best of both worlds like your lucky bitch of a stepmom Susie Wolff had done - FIA executive and WAG of the hottest and richest team principal. Even you had to admit, apart from your dad, the rest of the principals were a little bit too far on the balding old men side. But the drivers, you thought wickedly, the drivers were a completely different story. And they knew they were some of the most desired men on the planet, with their fame and status. Their egos were sky high - especially since multiple women would be throwing themselves at them every race weekend or media day. So you had made sure to play the game very, very carefully - unlike the other sultry models on the paddock, or conservative women dressed head to toe in basic team gear, you were the very picture of innocence with your sweet makeup and dark curls, cute girly dresses and heels, all shy giggles one minute and then serious, no nonsense businesswoman the next to keep them on their toes.

A lot of the drivers ate it up, too, flocking to Toto Wolff’s pretty daughter when they’d see you doing the occasional post race interview or brazenly flirting with you at a drivers’ meeting. But the one man who you truly wanted, the 26 year old in the Redbull gear with 3 world champions and a multimillionaire contract to his name, with intense blue eyes and thick thighs and broad shoulders, with a deep voice that sent shivers down your spine one second then flutters in your heart the next when you’d hear him laugh - he was the man who didn’t look twice your way. Despite your attempts to flutter your eyelashes, wearing tight outfits and bend over just so in a certain angle, or pressing your generous tits up against his bulging biceps as your breathlessly whisper Congratulations on the win, Max he wouldn’t even show a flicker of reciprocal interest. You were the daughter of Toto, after all - a principal who he was quite well known in the media for having ongoing disputes with for numerous years. As if Max Verstappen was going to be seduced by the likes of a gold digging daughter who was probably just as two faced as her father.

You’d pouted for weeks, growing bitter with jealousy at seeing Max instead walk around with Kelly, a pretty, tall and slim model who’d apparently outplayed you. But to your delight, you stumbled upon the best consolation prize. With all your pining you hadn’t realized you’d snagged one of the hottest and most desirable drivers on the grid - McLaren’s Lando Norris. Well, snagged was one way to put it - after all, a playboy like him was hard to pin down, especially when he knew how much pull he had over women. But you’d thought about that to, even going so far as saving your virginity like the perfect daddy’s little girl you were. Lando ate it up, twistedly enjoying getting to corrupt the paddock’s pretty princess, the one everyone wanted to get a piece off. So unlike the other women he slept with, the ones kept secret and hidden from the media, you were his favourite toy - one that he paraded around whenever you’d be in the same city. Not quite a girlfriend, of course, he was far too much of a flirt to put such a label on you so soon - more of a friends with benefits, a high maintenance fling, a fuckbuddy, some might call it.

And once you had your manicured hands clinging onto his arms at the races you sure as hell did not plan on letting go. Toto was not overly happy at the news that his eldest daughter was involved with a driver, of course, but had accepted it as Lando was still a good choice compared to many of the other drivers he wanted you to stay well away from - like Mad Max. So you stayed loyal to Lando, not wanting any rumours about you flirting with multiple drivers to impact your dad’s important reputation. You’d only flutter your lashes at Lando, kissing his cheek diligently with your glossed lips, sending the naughty photos of you in expensive lingerie just for him - because the rewards you got as his paddock arm candy were just too good. Always making sure your face was well cut out from any pictures, of course - you would die if they got leaked and your father found out.

But being Lando’s fuckbuddy came with a whole line of luxuries you’d quickly grown accustomed too. Tickets to whatever show you wanted, the finest food at the most expensive restaurant, the papparazzi going crazy at whatever outfit you’d wear when clinging onto Lando’s arm, and of course one of the most coveted men in the world between your legs, teaching you how to come apart on his fingers. That’s right, his fingers, and very rarely his cock, because you needed to secure that diamond ring, after all. And you sure as hell weren’t going to give him wife privileges 24/7 when he hadn’t even made you his official girlfriend yet. So instead you tried to push him to the limits, testing his patience to give up and retire his playboy ways if he finally got to bury his desperate dick inside your heavenly tight pussy again, after having taken your virginity.

Truly, you had outdone yourself, you thought, as every passing race this season Lando got more and more tense as tensions for the World Championships grew, with McLaren finally being able to threaten the Verstappen Red Bull reign for the first time in years. And with each passing race, he couldn’t relieve the tension enough, trying to furiously fuck his way through all number of vogue models but somehow always finding himself back with you, desperately begging to be let in between your soft thighs. And like always, you’d blink innocently and coo that you felt too shy, wasn’t last time enough, you didn’t want to ruin yourself for the man you were going to marry, remember?

And Lando would groan, because as much as he wanted you, he also knew there was no way in hell he was ready to take you to the altar over this. Although it had been getting harder and harder to resist, lately, because although you were truly so talented with your small hands and sweet, drooling mouth, he would endlessly replay the heaven that your pussy had felt like the rare few times you’d let him enter you with his cock.

But as the season went on even you couldn’t calm Lando down, especially after the Zandervoot race. Tensions were at an all time high between him and his normally good friend Max, after Lando stole his home race under him and even sealed the deal by throwing the Dutchman’s simply lovely phrase back at him cockily. Max was well and truly pissed off at Lando then, not even turning upto their weekly Padel games or replying to his texts. Although Lando wanted to win the championship, he also wanted to remain good mates with Max - especially because he knew being on Mad Max’s bad side always ended with the opponent finding themselves crashing into a wall at the next race. So as he pondered just what he could do to get his friend’s forgiveness, a wicked idea came to him, one night when he was out at a Monaco nightclub with you and had run into Max partying with his friends. He’d tried to talk to Max, but had been rudely ignored, so instead Lando stood off the corner, rather crossly glaring at the Dutchman, when he noticed you’d disappeared from his side to tipsily wander to the bar and get another drink.

He was about to go help you when he saw you stumble, maybe take you to the bathroom for a quick sloppy blowjob - but was suprised to see Max appear at your side, his intense blue eyes watching your tinier frame carefully as he rested a large palm over your plump ass to secure you. And Lando watched as you giggled happily, twirling your hair as Max handed over his black Amex to pay for your drink, rewarded with a lingering lip glossed kiss on his cheek from you, before you scampered back over to where Lando was hidden in the shadows. And as you loyally returned to Lando’s arms, whispering that you were going to make him feel so good tonight, he seemed so tense, the Brit found himself ignoring your seductive words entirely to instead focus on how Max’s hungry gaze lingered on your ass as you had strutted away from the tall blonde man. A sinister grin appeared on Lando’s face as he pieced it all together. He’d always thought it was weird that Max chose to completely ignore you, given that he normally was a friendly guy off the track. Turns out his good mate was just trying to avoid getting involved with Toto’s paddock bunny of a daughter, huh?

Turning his attention to you, Lando whispered if you could pretty please try out something new for him tonight, because he was really stressed, okay? He watches you nod eagerly, foolishly thinking your plan to get Lando so desperate for you that he was ready to put a ring on your finger was working. Too bad you had no idea that instead, your fuckbuddy was thinking about how he’d just found the perfect present to gift to his angry rival.

So that’s how you found yourself in a plush hotel bed later that night, all dressed up in a pretty white lace and mesh set and still in your heels, your eyes blindfolded with your hands tied behind your back. You eyes had gone wide with excitement, thighs clenching when Lando had pulled the ropes out, and you’d had to blush and act all innocent when secretly you couldn’t be happier that you were drawing out the dirtier desires in Lando. Because that meant he was falling for you all the more, right?

You had no idea about the private conversation your fuckbuddy had been having with the driver you’d previously desired, just outside the club in a dark alleyway, where Lando had finally cornered Max to apologise. The furious Dutchman had, as expected, been in no mood to hear it - but had stopped in his tracks and turned around when Lando slyly suggested that as he had taken something of his, it was only fair that Max get one of Lando’s precious things in return. Like maybe…you?

At the mention of your name, Max furrows his brows, telling Lando he wasn’t interested in the latest toy on the grid who spread her legs for whichever driver gave her some attention. Oh, Lando all but purred, that’s the catch, mate. She’s basically still a virgin, was one when I met her, only let me fuck her a couple of times, wants to save herself for the one or some shit. But I trained her how to use her holes, and fuck does she know how to suck a guy off with that sweet mouth of hers.

That’d caught Max’s attention, and he smirked to Lando, calling him a fucked up asshole for selling out the girl who was loyal to him like this, who was Toto Wolff’s daughter, no less - a powerful man someone like Lando wouldn’t want to make an enemy off. The Brit shrugged. Toto’s never going to find out. What’s mine is yours, mate. Enjoy. And with that, he tossed his room key to Max.

That night, Lando didn’t feel bad, not even one bit, as he tightly wound the rope around your delicate little wrists, knowing that you loved to act all innocent but secretly kinky shit like this has you dripping. Especially if you were going to be ruined tonight by a man who you secretly still had desires for - and Lando was certain you did, judging from the way he’d seen you look at Max like he was a God you wanted to worship on your knees. Really, he was being a good friend to you both by letting it happen - just this once of course, he wasn’t going to just hand you over to his track rival after putting in so much work to train you to be the perfect sex toy. So he’d left you there all alone in the room, abruptly saying he had an urgent call and would be back.

The drinks you’d had earlier certainly had their affects on you, making you whine against the tight ropes on your flushed and sensitive skin, almost grateful for the blindfold as you felt overstimulated already. When you finally heard the hotel door reopen, you sighed in relief as your fuckbuddy - soon to be boyfriend, you hoped! - finally came back. In your wildest fantasies you’d never have guessed that instead of Lando locking the door, Max stood in his place - and had taken one look at your tempting, restrained form and realized that the sly Brit had definitely not told you about his plans for tonight. Keeping you blind and tied up while you were tricked into thinking it was your beloved Brit entering you and not your daddy’s enemy, Max Verstappen? It was so dirty that Max got an instant hard on. He’d seen the looks, the touches you gave him too - they were rather hard to miss, after all. But he’d played aloof, not wanting to give into your gold digging ways - but he’d admit that he’s been rather disappointed when he found you’d settled for Lando instead. You’d surprised him with how loyal you remained to the McLaren driver, dutifully remaining by his side and avoiding Max’s intense gaze when it would occasionally flicker over to you. But when the alcohol had loosened your inhibitions tonight, Max had seen the desire in your blown pupils, in your hardened nipples that peaked just at the edge of your dress, and had cockily smirked at the realisation that Lando’s little toy, Toto’s precious daughter - that she was still lusting after him.

And now that this opportunity had presented itself….well, let’s just say that it had Max grinning wickedly as he plotted up all the ways he could walk away with both you and the world championship from Lando this year. That would certainly teach the younger male to mess with what was his, wouldn’t it? And even better, it would put that arrogant prick Toto in his place, keep him from daring to speak out against Max in the media when Redbull trashed Mercedes - because his adored little daughter would be spending the race weekends on her hands and knees for the Dutch world champion, if Max had anything to say about it.

So that’s how Max found himself at the foot of the bed, stripping off his clothes and lazily jerking himself off as he watched you squirm underneath your ropes, pouting as you couldn’t do your usual bit of trailing teasing hands all over Lando and rile him up. Baby? You crooned, tilting your head in the direction you thought he was in. Aren’t you going to-Oh!

You felt his warm, large palms cup your cheek, tracing your glossy, pink lips and you automatically poke your tongue out to circle his finger. Good girl, he sighed, the words making your tummy flutter. He sounded a little different to usual, his voice deeper, lower, but it was hard to think clearly over how much your head was pounding from raw desire, and you liked how he sounded tonight. You were feeling really horny and couldn’t wait for him to finally fuck you too - having had to desperately ride your tiny vibrator after stopping Lando fucking you multiple times this month.

His hands continued their path, trailing over your delicate throat and teasingly encircling it with his large hand, making you gasp - you hadn’t remembered it being quite so large that it wrapped around the whole width of your neck. But maybe your senses were more attuned now since you were blindfolded? It felt really good.

You promptly forgot to think about that any longer when those large hands moved downwards, roughly palming your bouncy tits and making you giggle from his attention. He teased and squeezed them, tugging down on the lace to free them in the open air, twisting on your hardened cute nipples. You squealed from the abuse to your overly sensitive areolas, distracted, and didn’t notice when your hands ended up being untied - only to be guided to a very large and hard cock.

Baby, you’d giggled, it’s been so long that you’re even bigger than I remembered. He swore under his breath as you diligently jerked him off with your two small hands barely wrapping around his length, spitting on it cutely to ease the glide. And then he’s rubbing his leaking cock all over your tits, slapping them with it and chuckling darkly as they jiggled, all wet from his precum. Before you know it, you were drooling and suckling all over his cock, sweetly moaning how good he tasted, even more than last time. Suckling his balls and then licking all the way the very tip, just like he’d taught you, placing messy lip gloss stained kisses down the wet shaft before sucking them clean off. You made sure to pay extra attention to the thick veins that ran underneath his length, even the new ones you hadn’t felt before, because he’d told you it drove men wild.

And when he grabbed your pretty curls, you let your mouth go lax so he could pump his full length furiously down your inviting throat, groaning how much of a good girl you were, maybe your full time job should be sucking his cock instead of trotting about the paddock. You moaned excitedly at the idea, and when he cums, all thick and creamy, you obediently swallow it all up.

Look, daddy, you say rather sluttily, dropping your mouth wide open, tongue out as you showed him how well you’d drank all his cum. Fuck, that’s so dirty, calling me and your father the same name, huh? Should’ve known you’d be into kinky shit like this.

You scrunch your brows cutely in confusion, not sure what he meant by that because you’d called him daddy many times before. But you don’t get to ponder too long because you suddenly hear the sound of a camera click and can see the flash go off through the blindfold. Your tummy lurches, because Nooo, baby, no photos, please, what if my dad sees-

Your pleas are ignored as you’re being lifted by two broad arms and tossed onto the bed, your hands dragged up and over your head as your wrists are tied to the headboard. You’re whining, asking him what he was doing, this was too much, you wanted to see him now, to touch him, but again you don’t get an answer.

Instead, you feel his thick fingers hooking around the sides of your soaked panties and sliding them off, lewd strings of your wetness clinging to the lace as it’s pulled away. Then you hear him deeply exhale a fucking hell, making you blush as strong hands grasp your ankles and push them far apart so your intimate parts are exposed for his hungry gaze.

That’s all the warning you get before there’s a foreign sensation of his warm breath blowing on your puffy folds, making you gasp, and before a broad tongue licks a stripe clean up your pink slit. You squeal in suprise, again stupidly babbling and asking what he was doing, because normally Lando didn’t like going down on you, finding it too much effort for a quick stress relieving fuck - he much preferred having you suck him off instead.

But the mouth currently lapping at your folds seems to have realized just how unfamiliar this pleasure seems to be for your sensitive cunny, because he buries his face right in, licking and slurping up all your dripping wetness. You thrash against your restrains, incoherently moaning because it feels so good baby, mmmh, why didn’t he do this more?

He laughs huskily, still buried inside your folds, and the deep vibrations make you almost cum right then and there. Your whole body is burning up with need now and you’re begging for him to put the condom on and slide in it, daddy, please, you needed it so bad-

You both moan as he finally sinks home, your creamy pussy gushing around him as it welcomes him in. You feel breathless at the size of him, because again he’s bigger and thicker than you remembered - not even just his cock, but his whole body, his bulging biceps and broad chest being able to hold you down with ease. You let him know it, too, whining that he’s so strong, it was really hot, had he been working out more?

That made him laugh again, lips grinning right by your ear, as he tilts your hips up to meet his and starts fucking your gushing pussy roughly. Through your euphoric daze, you feel familiar butterflies swirl in your stomach at the deep laugh, the accent sounding so different from Lando’s but still familiar to you for some reason - yet you still couldn’t quite place it. It was impossible to focus with the way he was thrusting into you, his hands pressing your hips down into the mattress in a bruising grip, making your tits bounce with each pump, your breath come out in soft pants as you gasped for air. You’re about to cum, you can feel it, the intensity building up-

And then, finally, he takes off your blindfold. Your brown eyes take a second to adjust to the bright lights - and then you widen them in pure shock as you realize just who’s wide cock was splitting you open.

You scream as Max grins wickedly down at you, pulling back to leave just his leaking tip inside your tight cunny, before slamming back in and, setting a bed breaking pace and drowning out your panicked wails with the loud banging of the headboard against the walls. You’re doing so good for me, schatje he croons, his voice sickly sweet but his actions pure evil as he grabs your dirty panties and meanly shoves them past your plush lips. Grabbing your soft thighs, he tosses them over his shoulder as he bullies his cock into you even deeper from this angle, repeatedly hitting your poor cervix. Tears pool in your brown doe eyes as you look at where he enters you, horrified as you see he’s making you take his cock raw - something Lando and you never did despite how hot it sounded as a baby outside of marriage would be too much for both of your families. You cry and wail and scream, tears streaming down your face at the embarrasing and degrading treatment you’re experiencing. Really, it’s such wicked and sinful behaviour and you should hate Max so much for this, hate Lando for leaving you all tied up and alone and defenceless against his evil and twisted rival to take advantage of you like this, to bully your practically virgin cunny with each deep thrust from his massive cock.

So why are you rapidly reaching your orgasm even faster than before?

Max has apparently learnt the signs of your pliant body underneath him far too quickly, because he slides his thick cock out of your swollen cunny and instead rests it just on top of your folds. Almost lovingly wiping your tears away with a flick of his thumb, he demands that you beg for it, for his cock to split you in half, to cum inside you, for him, Max, to be the only man you ever let inside your sweet pussy from now on.

You frantically shake your head, your muffled no no nos an obvious contrast to what you secretly wanted, as you’re simultaneously bucking your hips up against his hard length, drenching it in new slick. He smirks, leaning down so your foreheads meet and sweetly kissing up your tears. Despite the depravity of the situation, you’re finding yourself blushing from the unexpected gesture. Schatje, he whispers darkly, sending shivers up your spine because you’d always gotten jealous hearing him call other women that, you’re making this so much harder on yourself. It’s going to be so fun to watch you fall apart for me.

With that, he agonisingly tortures you, dragging just his tip through your folds again and again, slapping your throbbing clit with his head, biting and sucking on your sensitive nipples that leaves you arching your back into his talented mouth. You’re struggling to make sense of what’s going on, of trying to keep coherent. All that hard work and patience to try and lure Lando in was gone the very second your pussy had welcomed Max into it, because you knew Lando would never take you back if he found out about this. Your desperate brain reasons that then, it shouldn’t matter, right? It was too late for you and Lando. And now, you had Max Verstappen using your pretty body however he wanted, making you fulfill all his twisted desires. If you showed him how good you could be for him, be the perfect little pet for all his frustrations to be let out at, maybe he’d keep you around…permanently?

Max didn’t miss the dazed look that had overtaken your wide doe eyes as your whines quietened down. Guess all his teasing had finally melted that scheming brain of yours. Yanking your panties out of your mouth, he asked you if you were ready to behave and ask him nicely.

You nod obediently, looking at him with heart eyes as you confess that his cock felt so good, so addictive, you don’t think you could ever go back to Lando after being stretched open so wide, and could he pretty please fuck you hard and good?

Max growls at your submissive words. You’re offering yourself up to me so sweetly, baby. How can I say no?

He unties your aching wrists, running his soothing palms over the rope marked skin, bending down to give you a passionate, open mouthed kiss. You greedily slurp at his intruding tongue, letting yourself get lost in the pleasure as he lines himself up at your entrance before easily sinking into the wet folds. This time, he doesn’t stop his wicked thrusts, not when you’re squirting on his cock, eyes rolling to the back of your head, not when a creamy ring forms around the base of his cock from your cum, not when you’re tangling your hands in his hair and whining that it’s too much, you’re going to pass out.

He only stops once he’s tensing above you, one hand squeezing your neck and the other gripping the headboard as he drains his entire load into your tight cunny desperately clenching around him. Yours is truly the sweetest pussy he’s ever fucked. He’s never letting you go. He cums so much that it spurts out past your pussy lips, all over your soft thighs.

After a while, when he’s done whispering praises into your ears, your gooey brain soaking it all up, he slides out of you, admiring how his cum leaks out of your cunny that had treated him very well tonight. He places a gentle kiss to your temple and lets you doze off for a bit. It takes you a while longer to come to your senses, and when you sit up, you gulp down the glass of cold water that has been placed on the bedside table. You see Max spread out on an armchair across the room, shirtless and in some grey sweats, smirking at something on his phone - but he looks up when he hears you and lets his gaze drift down your marked up body. You flush under his intense ice blue eyes, heart fluttering at finally getting attention from the richest and fastest driver on the grid.

He beckons you over, calling you his pretty schatje, and in your blissed out state you obediently crawl over to him on your hands and knees, settling in between his spread legs and resting your head against his large thigh. And when he tells you that you looked so cute crawling for him, maybe next time he’ll get you a leash and collar with his name on it, hmm? you bite your lip and shyly nod, telling him of course, you’d do whatever daddy wanted.

He grins darkly, pleased with your submissive response, knowing you’re completely his. Forget Toto, forget Lando, the only man you’d ever be loyal to from now on was him. So you eagerly open your juicy lips wide at his command, drooling all over his cock to clean up the sticky mess your pussy walls had left behind. And when he points his phone at you, hitting record, you glassily stare straight at the camera, letting it capture how you hollowed your cheeks and licked up the creamy ring coating the base of Max’s cock. Gonna send this to your father if he keeps lying about how I’ve going to sign a Mercedes contract next year, Max teases meanly. Or to Lando if he tries to overtake me on the track again. You whine at him, brown doe eyes distressed, and start deepthroating him even faster to please him more, hoping if you did he wouldn’t show your daddy or ex fuckbuddy how much of a slut you were for the champion driver.

Being on your knees and obediently blowing Maxie was a position you became very familiar with. Because like he had wanted, every race weekend you would break your FIA contract clause of remaining unbiased and be dressed in a skimpy little outfit in Redbull colours, your lush tits pushed against Max’s thick biceps as you clung onto him through his paddock walk. Max couldn’t resist smirking at the Mercedes garage where Toto would glare, arms crossed, at the sight of his well accomplished daughter following the reckless Redbull champion around like a lost bunny. Placing a possessive large palm across your ass as he guided you into his private jet, giving it a good squeeze, Max made sure the paparazzi caught a good pic of that, too, for your father to see later when he opened Twitter.

And Lando, who knew how much Max despised sharing his toys, skulked from his seat when he saw you entering Max’s plane for the ride back to Monaco. He’d make sure to never make the mistake of flying in the Verstappen jet again, he thought as he moodily shoved his headphones over his ears to drown out the filthy sounds and desperate moans you let out as Max fucked you raw on the other side of the cabin divider. You’d never let Lando fuck you in such a public place or so often, no matter how often he’d begged you.

Fuck it, might as well make the most of it, the Brit thought once he stopped moping and realised his music wasn’t going to block out the obscene squelches as his rival continued to greedily bounce your creamy pussy on his thick cock. Shoving his hand down his pants, Lando slowly started jerking himself off, smirking when he sees one of Max’s air hostesses blush and bite her lip when he catches her looking. Apparently he hadn’t learnt his lesson of keeping his hands off what belonged to the Dutchman after all, because soon he’s thrusting into the hostess’s willing mouth with the same rapid pace that Max is fucking you with.

Your father had always said birds of a feather flocked together, after all.

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A/N: POST FIC CLARITY HIT HARD IN THIS ONE AHHHHHH 😳😳 hope this satisfies the dark max hoes (yall are so real for that)😼😼 as usual let me know what you think and send in more requests!

[room-surprise]

New Ryoko Kui interview dropped!!!

(This is a quick and dirty translation made using machine translation, and which I've lightly edited to add clarity. I'm not fluent in Japanese so I may have gotten things wrong. I'm sure others will do a better job later.

ADDITIONAL CONTEXT: This article is from a Japanese gaming magazine, like the previous interview in Famitsu, so they focus on video games and don't discuss other influences, even though they do get mentioned and are clearly pretty major.)

Kui was able to write "Dungeon Meshi" because she was not good at eating food and participating in human relationships. In this interview, we dig deeper into the influence of games, and how Ryoko Kui focuses on things she likes and dislikes while writing. [Writers of the Gaming Generation]

Dungeon Meshi.

This manga is attractive for its unique theme of "dungeons, defeating monsters in the labyrinth, and cooking them," as well as the unique characters, detailed human relationships, and deep worldview depicted in the labyrinth. It is currently being made into an anime, and adventurers from all over the world are fascinated by the world of "Dungeon Meshi."

So I thought , "I wonder if this work was drawn by someone who loves food and people." The depiction of such delicious-looking food and the construction of delicate human relationships and characters. Surely, it must have been drawn by someone who absolutely loves it.

However, in reality, the author, Kui Ryoko, says that she "is not good at either food or relationships."

So why was he able to continue drawing things she was not good at?

During the roughly 10 years of serialization, Kui has continued to confront "things she dislikes." This interview delves into Kui's unique creative techniques... and at the same time, it also delves into her "favorite things."

That's the "game"!

Those who are familiar with the subject may already know this, but Kui is also a big gamer. And it seems that "Dungeon Meshi" is heavily influenced by RPGs such as "Wizardry."

As a result, this interview turned out to be "I asked Kui a lot about her likes and dislikes." Likes and dislikes. They are the source of all interests and curiosity.

So how do we use this knowledge in our creative endeavors? How does this knowledge manifest itself in Dungeon Meshi?

How were those charming characters and the deep world created? We spoke to the original author, Kui Ryoko, and the editor, Masaru Hiroi, about things they could only talk about after the series was completed.

This is a game with the volume of a great labyrinth. I hope you will explore it all the way to the final floor!

Dungeon food. It's eat or be eaten. There is no superior or inferior, to eat food is simply a privilege of the living. Dungeon food. Ah, dungeon food.

First, I want to ask about how Kui first encountered video games.

--What are some influences from games in Dungeon Meshi? What was your first game, Ms. Kui?

Ryoko Kui (hereinafter referred to as Kui): I played traditional RPGs such as [blank?] and "Final Fantasy."

I think the first game console I ever played was a Famicom, which my parents won in a lottery . So before I knew it, we had a Famicom at home. I think my parents bought me the Super Famicom and PS1 after that...

After that, I took a break from games for a bit around the time of the PS2, but around the time of the PS4, I was finally able to buy games with the money I had earned myself .

--Why were you able to stay away from games around the time of the PS2?

Kui: I was too busy with exams, so I thought, "Well, I shouldn't be playing games," and left. When I started living alone after that, I couldn't play games because I didn't have a TV. My computer was also a Mac. [Macs aren't compatible with many games.]

--What was the trigger that made you think, "I want to play games" again?

Kui: I think the biggest thing was starting the serialization of "Dungeon Meshi."

Fantasy stories all have different settings, but at the same time, there are also things they share in common. For example, if you want to create a fantasy work, but you only know "Dragon Quest," it will end up resembling "Dragon Quest." It's scary to copy the setting of only one work.

So I just wanted to play a ton of different fantasy games and get an idea of ​​what the most common general understanding of fantasy is.

--Did you start playing it while you were still developing the concept for Dungeon Meal?

Kui: That's right. If I'm going to talk about "eating food," I have to play a game that has a system for eating food .

So I was interested in "Dungeon Master." However, at the time there was no easy way to play "Dungeon Master" on a real machine, so I played "Legend of Grimrock", which can also be played on a Mac.

["Dungeon Master," is a computer RPG released in 1987. Time passes each time you take an action in the dungeon, such as moving, fighting, or resting, so its biggest feature is that the game progresses in real time according to the player's actions. "Legend of Grimrock," is an action RPG released in 2012. It has a game design similar to "Dungeon Master."]

Until then, I had felt that overseas games and games played on PC were too difficult, but I felt like I had overcome one obstacle there. I thought, "Oh, this is pretty easy," and started playing a lot of different games.

-- Those two games are quite heavy even among RPGs, I think, so did you actually have that much difficulty with them?

Kui: No...I would say that my impression is more that best-selling games are easy to play (laughs).

I'm not that good at games myself, so I usually play games that allow you to adjust the difficulty on a super easy setting. So, games that allow you to lower the difficulty are always a lifesaver.

-- I've heard that apart from RPGs , you also like games such as "13 Sentinels: Aegis Rim" and "Paranomasite FILE23: The Seven Mysteries of Honjo ." Do you have a favorite genre, Mr. Kui?

Kui: I guess I'm just not very good at games that require you to use your brain through trial and error.

But in RPGs, if you just level up and keep tapping, you can win and progress in the game. Also, in novel-type games, if you read the text, you can progress. By this process of elimination, I quite like RPGs and text-based games .

Personally, I like games like Disco Elysium the most, which are text-heavy, top-down, and have maps to explore.

...Even I think that's a pretty negative reason (laughs).

Everyone: (laughs).

Hiroi Masaru (hereinafter referred to as Hiroi): But, Ms. Kui, you have really played quite a lot of games, haven't you?

Kui: No, the reason I'm able to play so much is because I play in a pretty callous way ...

I often buy a game, play it, and then just don't play it. So there aren't that many games I complete... I only complete a few a year. I play around 40 games, and if I complete 5 or 6, that's good.

When I asked if I could draw at Comitia, I got scolded.

-- Have you had any exposure to fantasy outside of digital RPGs?

Kui: I think it's not just games, but also the fact that I've always loved foreign fantasy novels . I was given books like "The Neverending Story," "The Lord of the Rings," and "The Chronicles of Narnia."

-- Dungeon Meshi gives off an atmosphere of Western fantasy like gamebooks or tabletop RPGs, rather than the typical Japanese fantasy games like Dragon Quest.

Hiroi: I think I went to Kui's house before the series started. At that time, we were discussing the name of a sci-fi manga called "Drawing Inside the Brain," which I had rejected many times.

Ms. Kui said she wanted to serialize this sci-fi manga... and when he was on the fourth draft, he said, "No, this isn't going to work," and when I looked at the scribbled notes next to her desk, she had already drawn the original version of "Dungeon Meshi" ! (laughs)

Kui: ……………No, I don't remember much (laughs).

Everyone: (laughs).

Kui: But I had wanted to draw a manga about exploring a dark dungeon, like Wizardry .

Since I was in elementary school, the manga I drew in pencil in my notebooks were all fantasy stories about swords and magic, so I had always wanted to draw a proper fantasy manga. However, there weren't as many fantasy manga in bookstores at the time as there are now, so I wondered, "Maybe fantasy doesn't sell."

Hiroi: At the time, there were a lot of people in their teens and twenties posting fantasy illustrations on online communities for artists, such as pixiv, and Kui was one of them.

I thought, there are so many people who want to write fantasy, so if she writes a fantasy aimed at this generation, it might sell.

And when I saw Kui's notes, I thought to myself, "Let's make a straight-forward fantasy manga, without making it weirdly twisted."

Kui: I originally thought of making this "dungeon exploration manga" as just a hobby... When I asked Hiroi if I could draw it at Comitia first, he got angry.

[Comitia is a comics convention in Japan for original self-published comics.]

Everyone: (laughs).

Hiroi: I said, "If you're going to draw at Comitia, then make sure you draw it as a proper serialization!" (laughs)

However, at that time, Kui had already published two collections of short stories, and they were being reprinted. In other words, she had a certain number of fans even before the serialization began.

So I decided, if Kui creates a pure fantasy for those fans, we can't fail badly. If it doesn't work, we'll just learn that fantasy is difficult to sell after all.

--By the way, were there any discussions between you and Ms. Kui about the fact that fantasy doesn't sell?

Kui: I remember vaguely talking about how fantasy manga doesn't sell well and how difficult it seems. I don't know much about light novels, so that might have been there for a while.

However, since a lot of fantasy manga were coming out around the same time, it was probably a "transitional period ." Maybe it was just when people started to feel more and more like they wanted to draw and read fantasy.

Not everyone is that interested in the things I like

-- I feel that "Dungeon Meshi" is a title that has breathed new life into the fantasy genre. How did you go about creating the setting and world when dealing with fantasy?

Kui: I try to think, "Not everyone is that interested in the things I like."

I like to think about pointless settings endlessly, but there are times when I think , "When this setting is actually made into a manga, people probably won't be interested in this story." So I try to include things that will make people interested, and cut out things that will distract people as much as possible.

For example, in "Dungeon Meshi" I initially wanted everyone to speak various languages. On top of that, I wanted to make the characters "only able to communicate with each other in one language"... but Mr. Hiroi said "Don't do that" (laughs).

Everyone: (laughs).

Kui: Even when I'm drawing it myself, I think, "It takes more than six panels to explain this setting...", and if I explain the setting more than necessary, it slows down the pace of the story.

Moreover, since "Dungeon Meshi" was a monthly serialization, unlike a weekly series, there wasn't much time for extraneous stories. Specifically, I had to draw one episode of about 30 pages per month.

In that case, there was no time to add in settings like "Actually, he was thinking about this behind the scenes" or "Actually, he can speak two languages." So, rather than there being any clear choices, there were quite a few times when "there was no time to do things normally." If it had been a weekly serialization, I might have included more.

--Does the scene where Chilchuck yells insults in his own language feel rather "forced"?

Kui: That's right (laughs).I thought, this only takes one frame...it's my chance [to include information about language]!

--So you haven't thought through all of these "fictional languages" yet?

Kui: If Dungeon Meshi were to be my life's work and I were to spend my whole life creating this world, I think it would be more fun to think about it...but initially, I thought that Dungeon Meshi would end in a few years.

Hiroi: Initially, I said, "It'd be nice if it continued for about five volumes" (laughs).

However, Kui's first draft really had a lot of material... so the editors cut out a lot of it. I understand that it's the parts the readers want to read, but I cut out the parts that deviate from the main story. So it's a battle between the "author who doesn't want to be cut" and the "editor who wants to cut."

--By the way, what kind of discussion took place between the "parts you want to cut" and the "parts you don't want to cut"?

Kui: There were a lot of them every time, but I can't remember them specifically now...it was just small, unimportant details that got cut.

In the scene where the hams made by the Red Dragon go back into the pool of blood, I remember saying, "You don't need these," and they were about to cut them off, but I remember desperately stopping them by saying, "We'll need them later!" I'm glad they weren't cut off.

But once I think of the setting, I want to include things, and then they get cut out, so at first I didn't want to expand the world too much.

I also wanted to complete the story within the dungeon. I didn't want to reveal the name of the country, and I didn't want to give the characters surnames. But in the second half, Hiroi-san told me, "The world is too small, so you should make it bigger," and I was like, "Are you sure?"

--Mr. Hiroi, why did you say that?

Hiroi: As the story progressed, it became clear that "Dungeon Meshi" was no longer just about saving a sister in a dungeon. So I decided that it would be unconvincing if the story had no involvement with the outside world, since what was happening in the dungeon was something that would affect the fate of the whole world.

For example, in real life companies, the more important a decision you make, the higher your superior's rank becomes, right? When I thought about it that way, I felt something was off about the idea of ​​Laios and his friends deciding the fate of the world on their own. "How can they make that decision without anyone knowing about it?"

The fact that the Canary Team was there meant that there must have been a system of reporting, contacting, and consulting here, because that's how "society" and "organizations" work.

In short, I think we were thinking about the situation and asking, "If an organization were to get involved in saving the world, how persuasive could they make it given the society that exists in the story?"

Kui: Well, the plot hasn't changed at all.

From the beginning, I had intended to write a story about saving the world, but I also thought it was possible for the world to be saved by only a select few people in the dungeon who knew the circumstances. Changing it was what Hiroi-san thought would make it more persuasive.

When I was drawing the first half, Hiroi told me, "You don't have to decide anything yet." I was in a hurry to move the story forward and explain the world and story setting, but he told me, "It's better to limit it to introducing the four main characters until about the fourth volume." But in the second half, he said, "Introduce more people and expand the world."

Everyone: (laughs).

Hiroi: Kui-san was like , "That's not what you said originally!" (laughs) But both had meaning...

Kui: I was the one saying, "If we expand the world there, the story will never end, right...?"

After drawing it through to the end, I realized that the balance between holding back and expanding didn't work the way I had expected. I think this is one of the reasons why the serialization of "Dungeon Meshi" took so long.

-- But there are a lot of characters in "Dungeon Meshi," and the relationships between them are complicated. I heard that you also created the relationship diagram for "Taikaishu" [※3] ...

Kui: No, I haven't made one [I didn't do that?]!

[Taikaishu is a full-color web comic by Funako Tsukasa that began serialization on a website in 2005 and is still ongoing. Its unique worldview has earned it a loyal fanbase, especially on the Internet.]

-- Eh? Is that not the case?

Kui: To be precise, I just created an account on the fan wiki.

When I started reading "Taikaishu," I struggled with the complex setting and the large number of characters...and I thought "it would be easier to read if there was an explanation or a list of characters."

So I searched for a bulletin board where readers were sharing their thoughts and asked if there was a summary, but they said there wasn't. So I thought, "Maybe if there was a place where someone with more knowledge could summarize it," and I just made a wiki account.

So I didn't actually edit it. It seems like I've been given credit for someone else's work, and I'm sorry about that...

Dungeon Meshi was created from a sense of guilt about food?

-- "Dungeon Meshi" started off with the catchy theme of "cooking monsters," but little by little the darker aspects and deeper world were revealed. Was the structure of "little by little revealing the darker side" something you had in mind from the beginning?

Kui: I thought I needed a theme to serialize it so I thought I'd try "food education." There were a lot of gourmet manga at the time, but I felt like there weren't many that focused on food education.

-- Considering that the theme is "food education," it makes sense that the nutritional value of the dishes in the story is clearly written down.

Kui: With the theme of "food education," I also thought up a rough outline of the story. Rescue the kidnapped princess, defeat the evil wizard, defeat the final boss, and become king... the framework is pretty simple.

But when I actually tried to proceed with the plan, I realized, "No, this story can't be done so lightly..." At first, I thought I could draw it in a more light-hearted manner.

Hiroi: At first, you were trying to finish the fight against the Red Dragon in one episode, right? I was like, "is that possible?" (laughs).

Everyone: (laughs).

Kui: When I tried to actually tell it in one episode, it ended up feeling like a very brief summary... In order to tell the story I wanted to tell, I had to tell it more thoroughly than I originally thought.

-- Did you have any special thoughts about the theme of "food"?

Kui: No... well... if I had to choose, I'd say I have a strong grudge against food.

Since I was a child, I was a very picky eater, and mealtimes were a pain for me. I hated eating in front of other people, and there was a time when I hated seeing other people eating, so I would look for toilets that were rarely used and eat my meals in the toilet.

When I was doing it, the word "toilet meal" didn't exist, so when the term actually appeared in society I was so happy, thinking "everyone was doing it!"

[Toilet Meals are a social phenomenon in Japan.]

Everyone: (laughs).

Kui: I was thinking, "This is so terrible, right...?" but it was a relief to realize that other people were doing the same thing.

--So what made you choose the theme of "food education"?

Kui: My parents, who were struggling with my picky eating, taught me many things, including the "triple eating" method, but it was no use and I continued to be a picky eater into adulthood. My parents had instilled knowledge about food education in me, but I was not able to put it into practice.

[Kui might be talking about Triangular Eating but I'm not sure.]

So the only thing that remains is that I feel an enormous amount of guilt when it comes to food and eating...

Hiroi: If you think about it objectively, the series starts off on a very negative note.

Kui: But now I've gotten over the habit of eating with other people... or rather, I've come to like it. My editor takes me to lots of delicious places.

--When I was a student, I was trying to leave my udon bowl at school, but my teacher found out and made me eat the packet of udon by myself. There was no soup, and it was really hard to eat the udon by itself.

Kui: It must be tough. I tried to hide it, but my teacher found out and I got really angry.

Hiroi: I've tried to hide it in a drawer before. Then, something dried up came out of the drawer... (laughs bitterly).

How can I draw things I hate?

-- Or rather, is it the fact that you're not good at it that gives you a higher level of insight into the food?

Kui: I think it's because you're interested in it that you either like it or dislike it. Inevitably, you spend a lot of time thinking about it.

Since "Dungeon Meshi" depicts a lot of food, one might think "Do I like eating?", but in fact there are many times when I draw it because I dislike something .

--Aside from food, do you also draw things that you dislike?

Kui: Maybe. For example, human relationships, modern times, fashion...?

-- Perhaps the relationships between the characters in "Dungeon Food" are portrayed so delicately because the author is not good at dealing with human relationships?

Kui: I've always been very curious about things like, "(This person is usually so cold, but has such a charming smile in front of other people)" ...

I feel the same way, but I think people are different in the way they show their true colors. I think it's strange that it stands out to me...

-- I have a simple question. When you draw something you hate, how do you feel? No matter how much you hate something, do you find it fun to draw it?

Kui: The events in the manga don't directly involve me, so I don't dislike the things I'm drawing as much. Also, when I draw while looking for the good parts, it can lead to new discoveries.

Also, I think it's scary to draw only what I like.

In my work, the important thing is "what to capture with the camera," and there's no need to go out of your way to capture filthy things, but at the same time, I think the world will look bigger if you keep in mind that "there are a lot of inconvenient, dirty, and unpleasant things outside the camera." That's the feeling I have when I paint/create manga.

When playing a game, if I have to choose between a game where I only feel like I'm in the world inside the game screen, and a game where I feel like there are lots of people living on the other side of the screen, and that the people in that world could travel anywhere they wanted, I think the latter is more fun to play.

I'm always thinking about how to express that "sense of the vastness of the world" ...and I personally like games that have "a world" to them.

-- Do you ever incorporate elements from the game into your manga?

Kui: On the contrary, I think that is a part that cannot be adopted .

The best thing about games is that each person has a different experience. Games that have lots of endings are also a result screen for what you've done up until that point. When I see something like that, I think, "That's so cool."

Personally, I think that's the game's greatest appeal, and something that could never be replicated in a manga that doesn't have players.

If you're so busy, when do you play games?

-- I'm personally curious, how do you find the time to play games? Even though you're busy with your work as a manga artist, you play quite a lot of games.

Kui: I often use the Steam Deck before going to bed or during breaks between writing manuscripts. In fact, I almost only use the Steam Deck now. I keep it by my pillow, so I can take it and play before going to sleep, or during breaks...

--Is Steam Deck really that convenient?

Kui: I recommend it. The screen is small, but it can run Cyberpunk 2077 .

Also, personally, I've gotten tired of having to turn on my PC to start up a game...with Steam Deck, I can just turn it on and it starts up instantly, even when I'm lying down. How do you writers usually play games? There are times when you have to play games for work, aren't there?

--When it comes to work, I calculate backwards how long I'll be playing before I start playing...If it's a game that can be completed in about 60 hours, I usually estimate that I'll play for 3 hours a day and complete it for 20 days in a row.

Hiroi: It's a lot of work!

Kui: That's amazing... You really are a gamer.

I've always thought that I have a talent for playing games ... but I'm not really good at that. If I'm given a game that's a little difficult, I get tired of it right away, and I'm not very good at trial and error. The range of things I can enjoy is very narrow.

I wonder if game developers around the world are also struggling with the question of "Should I make my games accessible to a wide range of people, even those who aren't particularly gamers?" or "Should I make games that are challenging and can be played deeply?" The same problem exists with manga, too.

When there's a game that I can't play well, I feel happy because it means the creator decided that there's no need to pander to people who can't keep up.

-- By the way, when you play games, do you do it as a normal "hobby"? Or do you play more often to find material for your manga?

Kui: Of course, a big part of it is that I play games as a hobby, but it is alleviated by the fact that playing games might be useful for my work (laughs).

Even if I'm not that interested in a game, if I think "it might be useful for work," I'll find the courage to buy it, and no matter how expensive a gaming PC is, I can still buy it if I think of it as a work tool. So the hurdles for many things related to games are lowered for the reason that it's "for work."

--So, when you read manga, do you feel like you're reading it for work?

Kui: In my case, manga has become my job, so when I read it I can't help but think of work.

However, I still enjoy gaming as a hobby . That's why I don't want to lose this hobby... and I don't think I'll be able to enjoy it as much if I get involved in games as a job, so I don't take on any games-related jobs.

Does the depth of the world come from the fact that it is "not decided"?

-- I heard in advance that "Dungeon Meshi" was written with a clear awareness of "what should be explained" and "what shouldn't be explained," so could you tell me more about that?

Kui: Having read a variety of fantasy novels and games, I thought that the "moment of discouragement" was the "repeated use of foreign words." When you write something like "XX of XX of XX," if there are three or more katakana characters, there is a high chance that it will be skipped over by Japanese readers.

That's why I try to refer to town names as "the neighboring town" whenever possible, and refer to characters who appear in flashbacks as "uncle" rather than by their full names, so that readers can understand without having needing exposition.

The magic used during battles in "Dungeon Meshi" is depicted in such a way that you can "understand what kind of magic it is just by looking at the picture."

-- What other aspects of Dungeon Meshi are there that you deliberately left out of its concrete settings?

Kui: Numbers and language are the settings I avoided touching. For example, just by deciding the month of birth, it is first determined that there is a moon in this world. From there, it is also determined that there is gravity.

What's more, just the concept of a "birthday" means that there is a division into a "year" and that the world is determined to have a 365-day cycle. It quickly becomes complicated.

But on the other hand, if I were to set the details and make it something like "This country's currency is 1 gold, which is worth 5 yen," it would be a burden on the reader. When reading the work, the reader would be forced to convert it into "1 gold = 5 yen" in their minds every time. That's why I try to write it with "readability as a priority" as much as possible.

However, if you're creating a "fantasy" in the truest sense of the word, it would be better to create something that corresponds to that world's calendar or metric system in order to really immerse yourself in that world, so it's difficult to get the balance right...

-- I think that style of "deliberately not giving explanations" is quite amazing.

Hiroi: I think that 's definitely partly because "Dungeon Meshi" is a silly title.

The "mindset" of the reader is a little different...I think that from the very beginning, the reader is made to recognize that "this work isn't going to say anything too difficult."

Kui: Also, we had to give a bit of thought to coming up with the character names.

For example, the main characters in Wizardry are given names that correspond to their professions, such as "Warrior" or "Wizard." The "Senshi" in Dungeon Meshi was taken from that ... I named him after thinking, "I want that person to play an active role."

That's why I wanted the overseas version of Senshi's name to be "Fighter", but I was worried that overseas readers would be like, "What does that mean...!?" so I kept it in my head.

--The character names in "Dungeon Meshi" tend to be around 3 or 4 letters long and fit nicely.

Kui: If the name gets too long, it won't fit in the speech bubble...It's generally said that a line in a speech bubble should be about 7 to 8 characters long to be easy to read.

So "Chillchuck" is really long... I actually thought that the abbreviation "Chill" could be used more, so I named it that way, but it didn't work out so well, so in the end I just kept calling it "Chillchuck". Even I was thinking "that's long" while drawing it (laughs).

Everyone: (laughs).

Kui: Anyway, there are quite a few manga-like circumstances where "maybe four characters would be enough."

--By the way, are there any rules for naming the characters in "Dungeon Meshi"?

Kui: It's not detailed, but there are "settings within the story" and "meta-settings that are just for my own enjoyment."

For example, [if Dungeon Meshi was a game] the Shuro party has names that would be given by a certain type of player. When playing a games, some people give their characters themed names that follow self-imposed rules. In that sense, meta-wise, the Shuro party is played by a player who names their characters with a plant-based restriction.

Also, since the player likes girls, the party members are all girls, and so on... (laughs).

Hiroi: Oh, I didn't know that!

Kuon: ...While it's fun for myself, I also create characters by asking questions like, "Why is the party mainly made up of women?" or "Why do they all have similar names?"

However, even if I revealed these settings in the story, it wouldn't have made the story any more interesting, so they are merely "settings that only exist in my own mind."

-- What are some specific examples of "settings that you deliberately didn't reveal"?

Hiroi: I still remember when I said, "I want you to depict the elven kingdom in more detail," Kui replied, "That's going too far."

The dwarven country was depicted quite a bit, so I personally thought it could have been shown a little more...

Kui: I felt that if I depicted that, it would limit the reader's imagination.

There are definitely "lines that suggest something might happen," and when it comes to parts that are better left to the reader's imagination, I often choose not to draw them.

Also, even when we present settings that readers think they can just skim through, they often try hard to remember them...

It all started with the manga "Eating soba through your nose."

--Let's go back to the topic a little. How did Ms. Kui and Mr. Hiroi meet?

Hiroi: I think we scouted her.

I saw a short story that Kui had posted on Pixiv and sent him an email asking if I would like to draw a manga. I remember that he had a really funny four-frame manga called "Eating soba noodles through your nose ." It was about a character eating soba noodles through his nose and crying out in pain... I think I was drawn to his drawing ability, which made me feel like "Wow, that looks painful" when I saw it (laughs).

And from that point on, we have come to this point.

[This may not be the exact comic that Hiroi is talking about, but it's a comic Kui posted on her blog about someone eating soba through their nose.]

Kui: Oh, is that so? Isn't it something like "Shugaku Tenshi" [※4] ?

Hiroi: No, that's not true! The manga about eating soba noodles through the nose was made before "Shingaku Tenshi". By the way, that manga was planned to be published in "Rakugakihon" , but when I asked Kui-san "Can I publish this?", she was very against it...

Kui: No, that's fine, but... I didn't think other people would find it that interesting.

Everyone: (laughs).

Hiroi: But that was more than 10 years ago...

--By the way, was Mr. Hiroi the first publisher to contact you?

Kui: Before that, an editor at East Press had contacted me. I was originally publishing fantasy manga that I had drawn as a hobby on my personal website. I compiled them into a self-published original comic and exhibited it at Comitia, and they asked me, "Would you like to publish this long manga as a book?"

However, after the editor asked around to various people, it seems he was told that "this will be hard to sell"... so the plan was dropped. Instead, it was decided to release a "short story collection" of short manga that had been published at the same time . This is "The Dragon's School is on the Mountain: A Collection of Works by Ryoko Kui" published by East Press.

I was contacted by a few other people as well, but the two people I still keep in contact with are Mr. Hiroi and the editor at East Press.

-- When you went from drawing short stories and web comics to starting a commercial serialization, did you study anything like "how to draw a serialized work"?

Kui: I learned almost everything about how to draw manga from Mr. Hiroi and the editors and writers at Harta .

I had absolutely no understanding of whether panel layout was good or bad, so up until the middle of the serialization, I would rearrange the storyboards one panel at a time, and I would get lectured like "Don't put a panel like this here."

I was also impressed when I was shown original manuscripts by other artists. They look beautiful in print, but the real thing is even more impressive. This is what it means to be good at drawing manga.

It didn't finish as I expected

-- Speaking of "serialization," you mentioned earlier that you initially intended to end it at about volume 5. Did "Dungeon Meshi" continue longer than you had anticipated, Ms. Kui?

Kui: First of all, I didn't really understand what a "serialized" comic meant, so I didn't even know how much of a story I could get done in how many pages. So, I thought I could wrap up the story nicely in about five years, in five volumes.

But I never quite got around to finishing it. It was so hard... (laughs).

Hiroi: To be honest, when I first heard "Volume 5,"I thought to myself, "(Are you kidding me...?)" I didn't say it out loud though (laughs).

--Honestly, even as a reader, around the time of the fight with the Red Dragon in volumes 4 and 5 I was starting to feel like, "Huh? It seems like it's coming to an end soon..."

Kui: From the beginning, my goal was to "defeat the Red Dragon at the halfway point." However, I was supposed to fight the Red Dragon in Volume 4, even though it was supposed to be 5 volumes. So I thought, "Huh? It's not over yet," and I gradually lost interest.

By the time I got to around volume 10, I felt like no matter how much I drew, it would never end. I didn't want to drag it out, but no matter how much I drew, it just never seemed to finish.

Hiroi: Even from an editor's perspective, it seemed like Kui was getting very anxious from around volume 10 onwards.

-- Having finished the long-running serialization of "Dungeon Meshi," did you experience any changes in your mindset?

Kui: I think it was great to have the experience of learning that it would take 10 years to draw a story of this scale. And when I think about my lifespan and how many more works I can draw... it makes me dizzy.

Hiroi: I feel like I'm constantly fainting...

-- Ms. Kui, are there still any works you want to draw in your mind?

Kui: Not that much. But I love drawing manga, so I want to draw a lot. I don't know if I'll have the stamina to continue for another 10 volumes, but I want to continue working as a manga artist somehow.

But maybe... I don't think it will sell that well next time...

Hiroi: Stop! Don't say that!

Everyone: (laughs).

Kui: In that respect, "Dungeon Meshi" sold well, so I was able to draw what I had imagined to the end. Next time, I think it would be better to consider the opposite scenario of "if it doesn't sell" and make it shorter.

That's the next new challenge.

-- In addition to the expectations for your next work, do you feel any pressure?

Kui: In my case, the first collection of short stories I published was fairly well received. For a manga I drew for the first time, that's about it.

That was a relief, but at the same time, I felt that "Ideally, the reputation of my next work will also steadily increase, but there will definitely be ups and downs." If the reputation of the next work is bad, will I be able to continue drawing without getting discouraged? I realized that the "battle with myself" had just begun , and I was terrified when I read the first volume.

What game has cute illustrations, in your opinion?

Kui: This is a completely different topic, but you 've played SaGa Frontier 2 , haven't you? Aren't the pixel art in SaGa Frontier 2 really cute?

--The pixel art in SaGa Frontier 2 is...the best!

Kui: The illustrations in "SaGa Frontier 2" have such exquisite balance... if you try to express that in a picture, you can't reproduce that cuteness. It's like "exquisite head-to-body ratio."

-- In your opinion, Ms. Kui, are there any games that have cute illustrations?

Kui: The first one that comes to mind is definitely SaGa Frontier 2. Also, I still remember how cute the character designs were in Final Fantasy Tactics.

But back in the day, I used to trace characters from FF7 . I thought, "There are so many cool designs in the world..." (laughs).

Hiroi: Nomura (Tetsuya)'s drawings are amazing, aren't they?

Kui: I traced Cloud and Aerith on tracing paper and quietly said to myself, "So cool..." and got really excited. I noticed something while I was working on the "Dungeon Meshi" anime...basically, games and anime are made by many people, aren't they? So I always thought, "Many people must be giving various opinions to make them."

But when I got involved, I realized that one person's power is quite large. This was quite surprising. I thought that there were multiple people who wrote the script and storyboards, and that each person had their own responsibility, but... the power of one person is quite large.

──No matter how much the work is divided up, it's important to have a director or supervisor who brings it all together.

Kui: Yes, in the end, it depends on the power of the person who takes the lead ...

However, at the same time, I think that the division of labor between scriptwriting and storyboarding is something that would never be possible with manga. In the end, you have to create everything in one person's mind, so "bias" inevitably arises. So personally, I don't like the idea of ​​it becoming a "world created in one person's mind."

Hiroi: However, not only in manga but also in novels, the individual author's personality is strongly expressed. I wouldn't go so far as to say "ideology"... but the person's way of thinking is strongly expressed.

Kui: Speaking of which, people who create games alone, such as indie games, are amazing.

It's often said that manga artists "come up with everything, from the art to the story, all by themselves," but I don't think they can compete with independent game creators who create the music, programming, and art all by themselves.

Moreover, even more than manga, no one can give their opinion until the game is completed. If you think about it that way, making a game by yourself is really a "one-man battle." At the same time, what I like about games is that there are quite a few "works that are not made with much consideration for cost" ... I enjoy it a little bit.

-- Do you ever think, "I want to make a game?"

Kui: I once bought RPG Maker , but it ended up being a complete failure... (laughs).

Everyone: (laughs).

Love for "classic RPGs" was a major influence on "Dungeon Meshi"

-- I'd like to ask you, Ms. Kui, since you play a lot of titles on Steam and other platforms, have you ever had any problems playing a game?

Kui: Simply put, a "game that doesn't work" is a problem (laughs).

This sometimes happens with games made by individuals on Steam... they don't have any reviews, so there's no way to deal with it other than contacting them directly. There have been a few times when I've been stuck and wondered, "What should I do?"

Other times, I'll buy a title that just happens to pop up at the top of Steam's rankings. Sometimes I'll play it thinking, "The graphics are kind of cute, so I'll give it a try," only to find that it's incomplete beyond the framework.

--So now people are playing titles that aren't that major.

Kui: Also, when I played Planescape: Torment, which is said to have influenced Disco Elysium.

While playing, I came across a character who was suffering from a terrible curse that made his whole body smell and become sticky. A quest was triggered to ask the NPC who had cast the curse to lift it, but when I asked them to lift the curse, I ended up being cursed with a curse that made me have constant hiccups ...

So when I was walking around the town, the "hiccup" dialogue started popping up all the time. What's more, every time it happened, I would freeze up for about 0.1 seconds. All the dialogue was filled with "hiccups." Anyway, it was a troubling curse.

I had no idea how to deal with this either, so I decided to just kill the NPC who had put the curse on me. The NPC also challenged me by saying, "Maybe if you kill me, the curse will be lifted?", so I tried killing him, but... it didn't lift the curse at all (laughs).

Everyone: (laughs).

Kui: I thought maybe the quest would progress in other places, so I walked around here and there, but the curse was not lifted after all. I was really curious, so I looked back at overseas information exchange thread online, and I found someone had written a lecture that said "You know what happens if you kill an important NPC without thinking about it, right?"

So I realized that this curse can never be lifted again. Even if I wanted to rewind, it was an auto-save, so I had to go back almost to the beginning... I was really... in trouble!

-- But "Planescape: Torment" hits a pretty impressive spot. Was it something that just happened to catch your eye while you were browsing Steam?

Kui: I originally liked games in the same genre as Baldur's Gate, so I think that's how I got into Planescape.

Also, I saw information that a huge amount of text in Planescape was translated by one person... I'm not very good at English, and games like Planescape have a lot of text to begin with, so I'm at a loss if it's not translated into Japanese .

However, when extraordinary people like those who make Planescape use their precious time from their lives to accomplish great things, I feel very grateful.

-- So, Ms. Kui, do you prefer games that are closer to the classics?

Kui: That's right. The first game I played was The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, and it was so much fun that I searched for "games similar to Skyrim" and played a lot of the games that came up.

All of them were completely different games from Skyrim, but they were fun. However, I don't like "old games". I think that newer games are generally more polished and well-made.

-- Wizardry, which influenced Dungeon Meshi, is also a classic work.

Kui: When I was a child, I saw my father playing Wizardry V : The Heart of the Maelstrom. As time passed, I remembered that there was a game called Wizardry. The game I played at that time was Wizardry VI: Forbidden Pencil.

I also played Wizardry V , but it was hard to see the map unless I chanted a spell. I was directionally challenged, so even though I had a guidebook at hand, I couldn't progress.

--By the way, were you more interested in making a manga out of "Wizardry" than the tabletop RPG "D&D" ?

Kui: When I was researching fantasy, "D&D" was often mentioned... but I had never even heard of "TRPG" before. First of all, you can't play it without friends, and I was shocked to find out that lots of people have friends they can play with like this...!?

Everyone: (laughs).

Kui: So when I looked up TRPGs on Wikipedia, I couldn't imagine that people actually played this kind of game. I was more confused and thought, "How can people really role-play in front of other people?"

After that, I watched replay videos on YouTube and it was only then that I understood how games like D&D worked.

Games, manga, novels. What is the purpose of all creative works?

-- What was the last game you played?

Kui: Recently I played a school management game called "Let's School." It's made by a Chinese company that also made "My Time at Sandrock."

Hiroi: You really like that kind of game, don't you? (laughs) Oh? Haven't you played "FF7 Rebirth" ?

Kui: I'm thinking about playing the remake of FF7 once it's completed.

Hiroi: No, no, if we don't do it now, we'll never finish it! It'll be a long time before we do it!

--Honestly, I also thought it would take about 10 years for FF7 Rebirth to be released.

Hiroi: I thought it would take about that long too... I really wanted it to be completed while I could still see. So, please do it!

Kui: Once it's finished...I want to play it all at once (laughs).

--Do you and Ms. Kui often talk about games?

Hiroi: Ms. Kui sometimes says, "I want to talk about this game, so I want you to play it." I played "Red Dead Redemption" because of that. Also, a long time ago, Ms. Kui recommended "13 Sentinels: Aegis Rim."

Kui: Whenever there's a game I want to discuss with someone, I always recommend it to Hiroi.

But maybe I haven't been playing games as much lately. Until now, I've been playing games because I thought of it as "for work," but now that the serialization of Dungeon Meshi has ended, I've been playing less games.

Moreover, I'm not the type of person who gets that into one game...I don't generally play through a game in repeated playthroughs, and I'm usually satisfied once I've finished the story.

Hiroi: Then we have to start [a new ] serialization soon.

Everyone: (laughs).

-- I'd like to ask you personally, do you have any "recommended indie games"?

Kui: I highly recommend "Papers, Please" and "Return of the Obra Dinn."

First of all, "Papers, Please" is a simple "spot the difference" game, so I didn't have high expectations at first. But when I played it, I felt like there was a proper "world" to it . Also, I was curious to see how the story continued.

And "Return of the Obra Dinn" had a great atmosphere. There were hints to solving the puzzles if you looked closely, but there was also a good balance of being able to force your way through, and the music and production were cool.

Hiroi: Come to think of it, you read quite a bit of the novel after the serialization ended, didn't you?

Kui: Ah, you mean "1984" by George Orwell? That was good...

I've always thought that creativity isn't necessary for life... It's entertainment, so it's not essential to life. But after reading "1984," I thought, "I guess creativity is necessary after all."

Humans need stories to experience things that should never come true, to prepare for bad things, and to prepare for understanding other people... You might think, "You should have already learned that when you were younger," but I was deeply moved by this realization.

Anyway, I feel that it would be great if people could learn things they didn't know before through this work.

Hiroi: ...Overall, it just felt like we had a fun time talking about games (laughs).

Kui: We just used the interview as an excuse to talk about the game (laughs).

-- No no, thank you very much for sharing your valuable story! (End)

I think I can understand a little bit about being interested in things you hate.

It's easy to analyze "why do you like something?" when you like it, but it's surprisingly difficult to analyze "why do you dislike something?" When you understand the reason, it seems that "why do you dislike it" is often more meaningful.

Perhaps creative works exist in part to help us understand the things we dislike.

I was able to hear a lot of deep "creation stories" that made me think about such things. Also, Ms. Kui is a huge gamer. Mr. Hiroi also likes games quite a bit. Since serious talk and game discussions alternated, the content may have been emotionally confusing. But I feel like "Dungeon Meshi" has a similar atmosphere.

If you haven't read "Dungeon Meshi," please take this opportunity to read it. It depicts a fun adventure. On top of that, it may help you prepare for difficult things that might happen in your life someday. Of course, it's also extremely interesting as a manga. I think it's definitely one of the best "entertainment" of our time.

Why does the body want to live? What does the mind want?

This is because we have a "desire" to pursue what we like and dislike. In fact, "things we dislike" are just as important as "things we like." By understanding our own "likes and dislikes" through creative works and entertainment, humans can prepare for things that happen in their future lives. Food and creative works are equally important for human growth.

...That said, I'm not sure if it has a nice punchline, or maybe not.

To eat. To experience creative works. These are truly the privileges of life. In order to live, we must continue to eat.

Now it's time to eat. What shall we eat today?

[aurorawritestoescape]

HEATWAVE || Joel Miller x f!reader || 2,5k

Summary: Joel helps you to cool down on a hot summer day. In his own way.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, pwp, horny!Joel, sweaty filthy sex, m!masturbation, unprotected piv, creampie, cum eating, fingering, praise kink, swearing, pet names (baby, sweetheart). Pics are for the mood only, reader has no specific physical descriptions.

A/n: I’ve been dying of heat all week but imagining Joel railing me slightly alleviated my hardship. Hot Joel kiss to @milla-frenchy for beta-ing😘 Dividers by @saradika-graphics 💕Hope you will enjoy this story. Love ya!❤️

same couple - HEATWAVE collection || MASTERLIST

“Don’t, Joel.”

“What?”

“Don’t touch me, please. It’s too fucking hot.”

Joel sighs and falls back on the couch as you shift away from his feet, getting comfortable as far as possible from his heat radiating body.

“Fine. Jus’ wanted to make you feel good. You’ve been snappy all day.”

“Sorry. It’s all this damn heat! I’m dying without the AC!” You groan and shake the hem of your crop top, trying to cool off just a little. You’re wearing the tiniest shorts you could find but nothing really helps when you’re dealing with a Texas summer without any conditioning.

“It’ll be fixed tomorrow, baby, don’t worry.”

“I know but… ugh!”

You throw a glance at Joel who has the most sympathetic expression on his handsome face. You also can’t deny that he looks hot like this, completely naked except for his home shorts. His broad chest, rising and falling in steady rhythm, is glistening with sweat, his thick thighs are spread and his cock is slightly tenting his only garment. You’d eat him whole if not for the fucking heat!

Torturing you even more he gives you his bedroom eyes and you bite your lip, thinking how to fuck him without touching him. Suddenly your gaze lights up.

“Oh! I know what we need!”

He raises one brow in a silent question and you start hastily explaining, at the same time grabbing your phone off the coffee table and opening a browser,

“I’m gonna look for hot weather sex positions.”

Joel chuckles and you furrow your brows at the man.

“No, don’t laugh. They minimize skin contact and should be easy on the movements. I saw an article once.”

Your pussy aches more and more the longer you watch Joel splay on the couch and you need him to be on board with your idea but he doesn’t seem very enthusiastic.

“Not sure it’ll help much but…let’s try it,” he shrugs and you beam at him before typing away.

As always when you need it the most, the internet is slow and you shake your leg, already losing patience.

In your peripheral vision you notice Joel move and your eyes shift from your phone screen to him for just a second. You do a double take when you see him pull the waistband of his shorts down, freeing his semi hard cock, as his mischievous gaze is set on you.

"What are you doing?" you groan at the sight of his big hand, wrapping around his long juicy member.

"Jus' a lil' pre-game, baby. Go on with your research."

You watch him give his manhood a few languid pumps and your mouth waters when some wetness beads on the tip. A new surge of desire burns your core and your breathing fastens. A few seconds later you remember what you were doing and turn away from the hot sight so you could return to the task at hand.

You try to open the first link but it’s loading for eternity so you close it with a curse and press the second one.

Then soft grunts reach your ear and you see Joel pleasure himself in earnest, as his cock is drooling on his veiny hand.

“Hey, wait for me, would you?” You grumble, tapping the same link three times, as if it can make it open faster.

“I’m imagining your hand doing it, sweetheart,” Joel smirks with his eyes already hazy as his palm is sliding up and down his length, thumb brushing over the tip from time to time, “or your pretty mouth, licking my cock. Oh, I bet your pussy wants some of this. She doesn’t care about the heat.”

You know he’s teasing you so you’d hurry up but the solution of your problem is so close that you can’t just stop now. So you fix your shorts that are sticking to your already wet folds and avert your eyes from your tormentor.

“Fucking cookies,” you curse, getting hotter because of the sweltering weather and also after noticing Joel buck his hips to fuck his fist better.

Finally you find an illustration of an almost contactless sex position and tilt your head, trying to understand it.

“Where’s his..? Oh! But… Nah. I’d break your dick like that.”

“We don’t want that,” Joel chuckles, his voice strained with pleasure he’s giving himself.

You’ve never seen him jerk his cock for such a long time so your gaze involuntarily shifts away from your phone again and you shamelessly stare at his hand gliding up and down his stiffness.

“We miss you,” Joel taunts you, seeing desire paint your face, and shakes his cock from side to side, spilling precum everywhere.

“Joel..” You whine and using every ounce of your will you tear your eyes away from his body and return them to the screen.

“Ok, this one is more doable. But it’ll take me forever to come like that… Oh and this… this just defies gravity.”

Giggling at the picture, you show Joel the screen and he gives you a polite smile but his half-lidded eyes tell you that he’s already deep in the ocean of lust, close to reaching his high.

Your gaze slides down to his throbbing cock, his big hand jerking it and you give up. You throw your phone back on the table and with a quiet “Fuck it,” you decide to literally fuck it. Fuck Joel.

Your man’s eyes light up as he coos at you,

“Yeah, c’mere, baby. Come sit on your popsicle.”

You laugh, climbing up the couch over his huge body and straddling his thighs. His skin is unbearably hot but your need overshadows everything.

You take his cock in your sweaty hands and purr, wetting your lips, “popsicle? shall I lick it first then?”

“Usually I wouldn’t say ‘no’ to that, but…,” he says, taking in your body, wrapped in a tight crop top and little shorts. You hear him groan as you lean down to his leaking cock but then his hand on your cheek stops you, “but! I’ve been playing without you and … My cock’s ready for your sweet pussy, baby. Gimme.”

With that he shifts to the side and pulls you to lie down next to him on the couch. The warmed up surface and Joel’s huge body pressed close to you make you whine as another wave of heat hits you.

“Shh,” Joel shushes you and clumsily sits up, almost making you fall off the narrow seat.

He takes his shorts off and helps you discard your clothes as well.

“Fuck, look at you,” he mumbles, his hungry eyes travelling over your exposed body, “wanna lick you all over.”

You take a sharp breath, suffocating with lust, but then Joel does the unforgivable. He lays down on top of you, pushing your legs apart with his knee, and you’re about to cry at how hot the vast expanse of his sweaty skin makes you.

“Joel!” You cry out, trying to push him off, palms braced on his chest, but the next second his lips crash against yours and he’s giving you a heady kiss which quickly makes you forget all about the heat. You’re immediately enchanted by him, his taste, his desire for you. The kiss is sloppy and messy and you cool off a little whenever your wet lips part from each other, even only for a second.

Soon sweat coats your body and Joel’s cock pulsating against your belly turns you into a desperate puddle. To get some respite from the heat, you tilt your head down and blow on your chest.

“It won’t help,” Joel murmurs, “Maybe this will.”

He hunches over you, leans down and licks a long stripe from your breast over your neck and jaw and reaches your lips and kisses you again. You hum with pleasure, noting your salty taste on his tongue and enjoying the sensation of the cooling wet path on your skin.

You’re making out for a few more seconds but the ache between your thighs makes your wriggle under him and Joel hastily lifts his torso and hovers over you, his chest inches from yours as you breathe out after this tiny relief. You glance down and see his heavy cock rest on your mound, his balls pressed to your folds, some wetness smeared on your belly where he is leaking on you. The sight makes you whine his name and reach for his big member.

It’s hot, stiff and damp when you caress it gently with your fingers and Joel’s dark eyes lower to the place where you’re making him even harder if it’s even possible.

“Put it in, sweetheart. Want you on my cock already. You’re drippin’ all over me. My balls are fuckin’ drenched.”

His Texan drawl is even more apparent when he’s so turned on and you know it’s time for him to fuck you. But he teased you so much. Why can’t you?

You throw your legs apart wider, but pressing your hips deeper into the couch, pull away from Joel’s hot crotch. You feel the air slightly cooling your sopping pussy and it feels so amazingly good, that a gasp climbs up your throat.

“Where’re you goin’, naughty girl?” Joel groans and rolls his hips against your pussy, scorching you with his heated thighs, balls and cock, making you mewl. He overplays you, making your hungry hole clench around nothing, clit twitch and you immediately bring your hand down and push his pulsating hot length into your soaked entrance. Both of you moan loudly at the anticipated sensation.

Joel drops his body on you again, holding some of his weight as he braces his forearm on the couch.

You should be uncomfortable, annoyed, hot and miserable but all you feel is his cock spreading your insides, his balls rubbing against your ass. His scent, a mixture of sweat and musk with a slight trace of his favorite piney deodorant, envelops you completely. He invades all your senses at once and you let him, welcome it with your body and soul.

“Joel,” you whisper, choking on your feelings and hugging him even closer.

“I know, baby, I love you too,” he replies, covering your whimpering mouth with his and drinking your oh’s and ah’s.

Soon he’s rolling his hips, his thrusts languid and gentle, as you’re making out, glued together by desire and love. You become one as the heat, radiating from the two of you and the sweat on your skin are mixing together and your bodies slide against each other in this lustful dance.

His cock is massaging your walls, kissing your cervix with its fat head and you glide your hands over the expense of Joel’s dewy back, shoulders and arms before they sneak down and you grab handfuls of his ass. You start grinding your pussy against his pelvic bone and coarse hair.

Suddenly Joel lifts his torso and looks at you, blown out eyes darting between yours, his hips still moving.

“You’re drownin’ my cock, sweetheart. So fuckin’ wet. My perfect pussy. Wanna see?”

After hearing your sultry ‘yeah’, Joel brings his hand to your face, brushes your lower lip with his thumb and then his palm glides down your heated body. Your skin erupts in goosebumps from the gentle contact and you whimper when he runs his fingers over your slicked up folds, spread around his fat cock.

You lift your hips chasing his touch on your clit, and he grants your wish. His index and middle finger find your hardening bud and he swirls it for a few seconds, closely watching your reaction. Your lips part and eyes flutter shut, as his cock and fingers make your pussy purr. Joel’s manhood twitches deep inside you before he pauses his thrusts into your wet heat.

Suddenly he pulls his cock out entirely.

“Joel! No!”

He tsks at you for the impatience but then his girthy length gets replaced by three of his fingers and you gasp and then moan when he begins pushing them in and out of your messy cunt, curling them to press the pleasure spot inside your core.

Joel sees how close you’re by the way your eyes roll to the back of your head and your walls start squeezing his digits harder and harder. He places his thumb on your clit and pushes, sending a new wave of ecstasy to your brain and you cry out as your climax hits your sweaty body. The drops of your sweat slide down on the couch because of how hard you tremble under him and Joel watches the euphoria course through you with an adoring gaze.

“Yeah, jus’ like that. Good girl.”

When you still and open your spent eyes at him, his fingers curve inside you as he scoops your slick and cum and then pulls them out. He raises his hand and watches your creamy juices slide down his hand.

“Joel,” is all you manage to mewl, witnessing your liquid euphoria.

With his tongue peeking out, he brings his hand to your chest and paints your pebbled nipple with your wetness. Then he leans closer and blows on it and you moan at the temperature change.

“Yeah, you like it, huh? Dirty girl.”

As if confirming his words, your nipple hardens more and with a grunt Joel latches onto your breast and licks off the taste of your pussy. You whimper as another course of pleasure reignites your core.

Joel hums, enjoying the flavor of your skin, and the next moment his cock spears you in one go and he begins pounding into you, pulling his hips back fast and thrusting his throbbing manhood into your sopping pussy with hard and sharp strokes. His tongue continues dancing over your tits and you clench his curls with the last drops of strength you have in your spent body. After a few more thrusts, Joel parts from your puffy nipple and growls, still railing you.

“Fuck, baby— choke my cock again— C’mon, be a good girl—come again.”

He kisses you passionately while his hand slithers down between your bodies and he starts rubbing your clit, chanting, “One more, one more.”

In no time you’re squealing as your pussy is clamping around his cock and it sends him over the precipice. Joel breathes out a moan and his hips jerk again and again, sending rope after rope of his hot cum inside you. Your cunt keeps milking him of the last drop as he presses his sweaty forehead to yours, your eyes locked with his and full of gratitude, love and euphoria.

You’re descending from your highs together, limbs tangled and bodies flush against each other. To your surprise the sweat cooling your skin and his cum seeping out of your pussy send a shiver down your spine.

“I’m cold,” you mumble into the crook of his neck.

“Really? Maybe we don’t need AC at all? I can just fuck the heat out of you?”

“Yes, we do,” you disagree, giggling.

“But I loved helping you, baby. We should reschedule the repair for next week.”

You push him off you, burning the man with a fiery gaze, “Don’t you dare, Joel Miller.”

“I’m kiddin’, sweetheart,” Joel chuckles, hugging you tight and shutting your grunts up with a kiss. A second later you feel hot all over again.

Thank you for reading! Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed the fic!💖

Same couple - HEATWAVE collection || Masterlist

General tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @evolnoomym @keylimebeag @joelmillerisapunk

If you'd like to be tagged in my future fics, let me know!💕

[insomniadreamzz]

Drunken desires

G!P Sevika x Fem!Reader

Since my other G!P story got so much attention I thought I give you another one 🥰

Mentions of G!P, smut, alcohol, soft sex, reader is smaller than Sevika

You worked at the Last Drop as waitress, helping out whenever Thieram wasn’t there. Sevika was one of the guests who was daily there.

You and her did shared a few intense looks with each other and every time you went to take peoples orders you felt her gaze on you while you were walking through the place and well…doing your job.

Sevika called you over just after she finished a game, taking the opportunity to get another drink from you. „The same?“ You asked her and she nodded with a little smile in response. „You know me well.“

It was impossible not to know what she always drinks when she comes here every day. It became like a normal routine to you but you still asked every time, wanting to make sure.

You got her drink, on your way to bring it to her, smiling politely as you put it down on the table, she thanked you and handed you some coins with a smirk. „The tip is for you.“ She said and the slight touch of your hands when she handed it to you made you feel things you didn’t know you could feel. Teens would call it butterflies in your stomach and you never really believed it would happen with her.

The work day was long for you. Many guests did leave already The Last Drop, only Sevika being there now, still on her usual place, sipping the last drops of her drink.

„Um…we‘re closing soon.“ You mentioned with almost a whisper, feeling uncomfortable to have to kinda kick her out but Sevika didn’t mind, she leaned back, menspreading as she pat her lap. „Good because I don’t need any other person in here except you. Take a seat.“

You got the message, cheeks blushing but you still wanted to make sure to avoid any uncomfortable situations. „On your lap?“ You blinked in confusion, wanting to smack yourself to check if you’re already in bed dreaming but you knew this was reality as Sevika‘s hand grabbed you, pulling you on her lap so you straddle her now. „Answer enough babygirl?“ Her voice…her expression, you felt so stunned.

„Y-Yes…“ You couldn’t even figure out more words to say, it felt so nice being so close to her but also it felt unreal.

„How come such a pretty woman works at a place like this? I don’t mind it, you are indeed one of the reasons why I come here every day.“ She confessed but you shook your head. „You’re drunk Sevika.“ You mentioned, making her chuckle. „Not as drunk to not know what I am doing here right now. I exactly know what I am doing. You really thought I didn’t see the look you give me?“ And she was right, secreted you really wanted this but you never dared to do the first step.

Sevika held your chin as she made you look directly into her eyes, the blush on your face only intensified. „Kiss me already. I know you want it babygirl.“ Fuck she knew how to push your buttons, the petname she gave you did things to you and there was no going back now as your lips crashed together in a heated kiss. Her lips tasted like smoke, alcohol and also sweet. Just perfect.

She dominated the kiss as she slipped her tongue inside of your mouth, making you moan into the kiss, both her arms wrapped around you, the cold feeling of her mechanical arm sending shivers down your body, your own hands wrapped around her neck. While you kept kissing so passionately, you could feel a bulge poking against your crotch, making you gasp at the realisation, pulling back from the kiss and panting softly, your forehead resting against Sevika‘s.

„Y-You have a…“ You started and she looked at you with a grin, her human hand gently caressing your side. „You have a problem with that??“ She said with a more teasing voice but you quickly shook your head. „No! No not at all.“ You really didn’t mind it. It was just a little surprising since Sevika was a woman but that didn’t stop you.

You eagerly took off your shirt along with your bra, exposing yourself in front of her and now Sevika was the one blushing. Not sure if from the alcohol or of the view, maybe even bith was the cause of it. „Damn…you’re beautiful.“ She said before placing kisses along your neck and then down your chest until she reached for your nipple, sucking and biting it, her mechanical hand taking care of your other one, making it hard by just a touch, the cold metal on your nipple driving you crazy, hips instinctively moving, making her groan.

„Shit…I want to fuck you…“ She said with a low groan, buckling up her hips against you, making a sigh leave your lips. „Hnn…then do it please.“ You shifted a little so she could unzip her pants, letting her hard cock out. Your eyes widen a little at the size of it. „Damn…“ You whispered under your breath, making her smirk.

„Wait let me just-…“ You started, getting up to take off the rest of your clothes before adjusting yourself on her lap again, your hands resting on her muscular shoulders, your hands looked so small on them. In fact you were genereally smaller than Sevika anyways but this made you realise it more. She was a little bit impatient, rubbing the tip of her cock against your entrance, groaning softly at the feeling of how wet you are for her.

You didn’t expect Sevika to be this gentle as she slowly slid inside of you, making you even more turned on. She made sure you didn’t feel uncomfortable or hurt as she let you get used to her size, slowly and gently moving inside until she was fully in, gaining soft little gasps from you. „You feeling good baby?“ She whispered close to your ear and you nod in response. „Yes, you can move.“ You breathed out and she made sure to hold you close as she began to thrust her hips up into you, making you moan as your breath hit her neck, making her body shiver. You placed kisses on her neck while she fucked you so good, making her let out some moans as well, signaling you that she liked it, tilting her head a little more to the side to give you more space, making you leave hickeys on her neck, running your tongue along them, your own hips moving in the same rhythm as her thrusting as you finally got the courage to move as well, her thrusts speeding up as she felt you getting more aroused.

„Fuck…you feel so nice…so damn wet…“ She mumbled under her breath, you moving your head up to look at her deeply in her eyes, seeing the desire in her eyes. You had to, you couldn’t not kiss her so you smashed your lips on hers again, kissing passionately and moaning into the kiss as you fucked. And she did the same. You never throught you would hear Sevika‘s voice like that, moaning so lewdly.

You moaned out loudly when she hit your sweet spot, the tip of her cock hitting your g-spot as she sped up and fucked you a little bit rougher, making you almost lose your mind. „Fuck! Ah yes! Right there!“ You whined out, she felt you getting closer as your muscles start squeezing around her cock. „Cum for me…babygirl…“ She whispered close to your ear before leaving a kiss on your neck, biting your sensitive skin lightly which drove you over the edge, making you cum hard on her cock and she came right after you, releasing her warm cum inside of you. „God…fuckk!!“ She moaned out, her human hand gripping on your hips tightly.

You were riding out your orgasm on her before collapsing on top of Sevika, your head burried in the crook of her neck, both panting softly.

„You’re…so hot…“ She said with a gentle voice, her hand caressing up and down your back before she placed a kiss on your forehead, staying with you like this for a while until you both fully calmed down from your high.

[slu7formen]

MDNI. luke castellan x fem!reader (halloween) 👻

a special story for those who intensely asked for a part two

warnings: kissing, cursing, just a very intense luke, m4sturbation (f and m), p in v. (also, luke’s ten times hotter with that skeleton make-up)

The usually cold October night felt fuzzy and heavily hot that night, filled with chatter and nonstop dancing from fairies all the way to those dressed as pineapples. The big party was packed and crowded, the drinks flowing, and the music blasting; y´all had to take advantage of Chiron´s and Mr. D´s permission. You sat on a long table, with your sisters and friends, just chilling and enjoying the good time.

It was good.

It was fun.

And Luke was nowhere to be seen.

You didn´t think much about it though, and neither did you expect him to follow you all night like a dog after what had happened in the cabin, whatever that was. Maybe he was just being a jerk, trying to mess with you and play around with you. After all, Luke was always a tease, a playful one. But he did give you a good scare, it was Halloween after all.

Soon your second drink started to hit you, slowly, but the feeling surely was there, embracing your friends into the same bubble as you. As the feeling rushed through your veins, you suddenly found the table a pretty boring place to be at, and soon enough, you and your sisters found yourselves on the improvised dancefloor.

Dancing was the perfect way to let loose, especially after a long, exhausting day of helping the campers. You deserved it, you thought. This fun, this night, a night-to-forget of all those monsters, Gods, missions, the camp life that kept you so exhausted every day. Everyone at camp needed that break, well deserved one. Just a night to behave for what you really were; people. Some of your sisters already disappeared into the darkness with some pirate, or wrestle fighter, or skeleton, leaving their drinks behind and a secret wink to your direction, or a "it won´t be long" comment for you to not worry too much, and honestly? Good for them, in fact, fucking great for them.

In fact, you were going to have your fun too.

You danced and moved around to the rhythm, the loud music blasting in your ears. Your head was slightly spinning, a pleasant feeling more than an unsettling one, and your body moved smoothly along with the music, letting it guide you, letting it move you, letting it control you and the sway of your waist, the holding of your hand to your friend´s, the laughing and singing. You even felt like you would be able to dance all night, nonstop, and you´d still want more fun.

Until you felt it. Again.

That cold, freezing feeling. The feeling of someone staring.

You knew exactly who it was.

He had found you, like he said he would. No-, he didn´t say that, did he?

"I´ll make sure you find me"

Well-, similar.

It was a little weird though, you just knew it was him, without even looking. You were not going to fall for his little mouse-trap game. You wouldn´t look for him, you wouldn´t find him. Did he want some fun? Bring it then.

But you imagined him.

Wearing his entire black outfit, the leather jacket hanging heavily on his shoulders, and his face decorated with that skeleton make-up you worked so hard on. A drink in hand, surrounded by other campers, but you knew, he was only staring at you.

You kept dancing, not a single glimpse, not a single look to his direction. You wouldn´t give him the satisfaction, no, you would be the one giving him a lesson. And maybe he didn´t deserve it. But oh, poor you, didn´t you know he´s been looking at you the whole night and you didn´t realize until now?

The sweat was sticking to your skin, and you´d be fine with that if the feeling of your own hair sticking to your chest didn´t gross you out. "I´m sweating like a pig" a friend told you, basically screaming into your eardrum, "Come get water with me?"

"Okay!" you reply, fixing your hair, moving it out of your sticky skin, following the fairy through the dark woods to try and go towards the drink table.

And that was just the perfect moment to attack.

"Hey" Luke said.

You turned around quicker than you´d like yourself to admit.

"Hi" you say, stopping in your tracks. "Found you, I guess"

He was looking good, too good. His jacket was opened, the teasing flesh of his neck showing just underneath that boring black shirt. His make-up was still in perfect shape, and his face didn´t look as scary as it did before, rather, he looked handsome, even with the painted features.

"Guess so" he smiles, and there´s a slight tilt to his head, as if he was sizing you up. "So-, how that night going for you?" he asked.

"Good so far" you replied, getting rid of the hood of your cape, letting yourself breathe a little bit more. "Sweaty" you stated, "You?"

"Sweaty" he repeated, a soft grin on his face. You rolled your eyes. "Nothing more?" he inquires.

You press your lips together, crossing your arms over your chest, "What do you mean?" you quickly ask.

"No one´s tried their luck with you yet?" he asked before taking a sip of his beer. He tilted his head to the side while doing so, the moonlight doing nothing but wonders to illuminate his jawline perfectly, the shadow of it intensifying over your Adam´s apple, which bobbed up and down slowly, the way his tongue licked his bottom lip quickly.

You scoffed. "No. Not really"

"Come on..." he jogged, "I don´t believe you"

Gosh, he was doing it again.

"Why?" you asked

He shrugged his shoulders casually, "You´re not something that´s easy to miss" he said, and you hated the way the compliment made you feel, and how silent it made you, unable to form words.  And it was like he knew exactly what he was doing, and what he was making you feel. He knew exactly what to say, and he knew it was driving you insane, and Luke was enjoying the hell out of it.

"Were you watching me?" is all you can ask.

He shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe", is all he stated.

You laughed, tilting your head, "What, are you some creep now?"

Luke raised an eyebrow, "Don't get me wrong, I love watching you dance" he said, his tone so smooth and warm, "But I was hoping for something else" he shrugged his shoulders playfully, as if he was just talking about the weather with that casualness.

You raised and eyebrow, "So you were watching?" you asked, and you damn right knew he was.

Luke raised the bottle again, just about to press it to his lips as he said, "Like I said, you´re kind of impossible to miss"

He had a way with words, and they somehow always managed to make your brain malfunction, like you were suddenly a dumb girl from freshman year, the way they came out of his mouth with that husky, rough voice. Like they were sweet and velvety, and he had a way of saying them, a way of pronouncing them.

"Are you done playing around?" is all you manage to ask. You wanted to do something, say something, move somewhere. It was like your legs had become roots of trees, and you were just waiting for him, for him to do something. For him to say anything, really. And you didn´t want to think, or act, or speak. You just wanted him.

Luke hummed, and the smile that tugged at his lips was almost predatory. Like he was waiting for that. For you to ask him, and beg him, and for him to give in, to say yes. In silence, he walked towards a nearby tree taking the last sip of his beer, setting the bottle on the floor shortly after. He leaned back against it, the back of his head pressing against the hard wood.

"Come here" he asked, and it all became so quiet. The loud party was easy to step away from, even when the music and continuous chatter was buzzing inside your ears.

Arms still crossed, you walked to where he was, just a few feet away.

"What are you doing?" you asked, looking straight into his eyes. They were the same ones that pierced through you hours ago. The same ones that stared at you so deeply, and the same ones that made your knees weak. Luke lifted a hand, forcing its way through your crossed arms to hold one of your hands, and he gave it a quick, soft pull, a gesture that would be too obvious, and easy to ignore. But you didn´t. Because his palm was warm, and his fingers wrapped around your wrist tightly, but carefully.

"I just want you close"

You scoffed, unable to hold back a laugh. If you really thought about it, he sounded so, so dumb.

"That was the cheesiest shit I have ever heard"

He didn´t flinch, his face was still as serious as before. And he didn't take his eyes off of you, his fingers gently rubbing the soft skin of your wrist, a gesture that was almost hypnotic.

"I wasn´t done"

You tilted your head to the side, waiting for him to continue. He was attempting to pull you by the hand again, yet he never did. It felt as if you were about to jump off a cliff with the risk of someone pushing you. You took another step closer yourself, and then another, until you were standing just in front of him, your chests barely touching.

"Go on then" you encouraged, feeling your own cockiness take a hold on you, "What is it that you want, hm?". If it wasn´t for your previous fruity drinks, you weren´t sure you would be this bold.

"I said close" he demanded. But your chests were at the verge of pressing together.

"I am close"

That´s when he really pulled you. Luke forced his free hand around your waist, and he tugged, hard. The sudden force had you stumbling towards him, your chest colliding with his and his nose nearly pressed against yours, lips parted as you gasped, your free hand taking a hold on his shoulder so you wouldn´t fall all over him.

"This close" he whispered, his face dangerously close to yours. He was looking at your lips, and then at your eyes, and back to your lips. And you knew, oh, you knew exactly what he wanted, and you were more than willing to let him have it.

He tilted his head slightly to the side, and you could almost taste him. Luke let his lips brush against yours, and the soft touch was enough to drive you crazy. He was testing the waters, testing the limits, and you could tell by the way his lips moved against yours.

But it felt like a hundred tortures.

"Just kiss me already" you muttered against him. Luke didn´t need any more words to finally, fucking finally, press his lips against yours. And when he did, he kissed you hard, and with a hunger that left you breathless. He kissed you like his life depended on it.

He loved the feeling of when you let him press his tongue softly, exploring your mouth. And the way his teeth grazed over your bottom lip, and the way his hand was grabbing the fabric of your costume, and the way he held onto your neck, and the way his other hand grabbed your waist and pulled your hips against his, the feeling of his fingers digging into your soft flesh, the way he groaned softly into the kiss, the way his chest was pressed against yours and his breath was hot and heavy.

And he wanted more.

His kiss was hungry, and demanding, and all consuming, like he was trying to take every single ounce of air from your lungs. His hand moved up, his fingers tangling into your hair, holding onto the back of your neck, his nails grazing the skin, and pulling slightly, forcing you to arch your neck. He didn´t waste any time, and his tongue was instantly on yours again.

He pressed a couple of quick kisses over your jaw, his teeth grazing the skin, biting softly. His lips trailed down, pressing wet kisses all the way down to your neck, sucking on the soft skin. His fingers tightened, tugging slightly.

"Let´s go somewhere else, yeah?" he whispered, low and vibrant.

You didn´t have the chance to answer.

It was a quick turn, and the next thing you know is that Luke is walking ahead, his hand holding onto yours and a quick, firm pull, making you follow him. And soon enough, you find yourselves inside your cabin. And it was as if a switch had turned inside him. He pressed you against the door as soon as it was closed, his lips attacking yours. He kissed you hungrily, his hands gripping the back of your thighs, lifting you and pressing you further against the door.

He was all over you. It didn´t take him long to take a firmer grip of your legs as he walked towards the bed, dropping you down softly. His hands were quick to grab the edge of his jacket, removing it with ease, throwing it across the room, his black t-shirt following right after. You were mesmerized, watching the way his muscles flexed with each movement, the way his eyes remained focused on you still.

You got rid of your cape as he leaned down over you, "Stop" he warned you. He looked down, his hands roaming over your red skirt. His fingers took a hold of it softly, "I want this on" he stated. You could only nod as he leaned down, pressing another quick kiss against your lips. "But I want this off" he whispered, his hands moving up, reaching for the top of the corset. You were quick to remove it, Luke helping you quickly, letting the  material fall down onto the mattress, leaving you in the button up shirt you had underneath.

Luke popped a knee onto the bed, dangerously close to your core. "Fuck-" he muttered. He leaned down, a hand quickly unbuttoning your clothes. "How am I supposed to not fuck you like this?" he mumbled, and you felt the warmth of his hands, the soft touch, his calloused fingertips, his nails scraping the skin. "Looking this pretty, waiting for me"

You could feel the heat creeping up, and you knew he could see it. Your chest was rising and falling with every breath, your heart pounding in your chest. Luke was looking at you, his gaze intense and filled with desire.

His knee finally pressed against you, the contact enough to draw a small gasp from you, his thigh now firmly between yours, your skirt pushed up slightly. You felt his hands run over the smooth material of your skirt, and then under it, his fingers squeezing, pulling, kneading at your legs. His hand ran up the length of your inner thigh, "Move" he demanded then.

You obliged. You didn´t dare to question him, his knee remained pressed firmly against you. You felt the delicious pressure against your clit as your hips slowly grinned against his thigh.

Luke watched, his lips parting. "That's it" he praised you. Your eyes fell shut, your head falling back, a low groan whimper your lips. You felt his hand trail up your lower back, encouraging your movements against him, "Keep going baby, show me how good you feel" he breathed, and you couldn´t help but feel the rush of heat between your legs. He leaned in, his lips pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses over the base of your throat. Your hips jerked against him, his hand gripping your skin tighter.

"I want to touch you" he muttered, "Let me touch you" his hand moved up, fingers caressing the flesh of your stomach, all the way up to your cleavage. He was bold enough to cup one of your covered breast for a second, squeezing it firmly, and then trailing his hand down, his palm pressed flat against your lower abdomen, "Come on-," he urged, "Let me touch you, let me get you off"

Luke was desperate, and you were a moaning mess, grinding against his thigh. You were desperate too, and the friction of his clothes against you wasn´t enough, and he was right there. "Do it. Do what you want" you sight out, grabbing his face to smash your lips together again. And that was enough.

Luke moved, his hands working their way down your skirt. His fingers worked quickly, his finger hooked on the waistband of the underwear, pulling them down slowly, the fabric scratching your thighs. His mouth was back on your neck, his teeth grazing the skin as he sucked and bit the soft skin, and then his tongue soothing the pain. You shivered, goosebumps rising over your skin. "You said you didn´t bite" you teased.

"Shut up" he grunted.

His fingers slid in between your thighs, teasingly, before moving further down, the pads of his fingers rubbing your folds. A sigh escaped you, and you heard his smile against your skin, his fingers slipping between the wet, slick skin.

Your body shook at the sudden sensation, his fingers spreading you apart. Luke slid his index finger inside you slowly. He pressed his lips against your throat, a deep chuckle leaving his lips, "I´m sure you don´t mind if I bite" he muttered, his fingers curling inside of you. "And you won´t mind if I fuck you too, right?" he asked. Your heart skipped a beat. You couldn´t form a proper answer. "I won't ask twice"

You couldn´t help the way you clenched around his fingers, and the sound that escaped you was something that was not going to be forgotten. "N-no" you whimpered.

"No?" he repeated, almost mockingly, a small yet lying pout on his lips. It bothered you as much as it made the rest of your body hot, but you had no time to be mad. Luke picked up his pace, his fingers sliding in and out in a faster motion that got you taking a hold of his wrist.

"Oh-," you whimpered, and you were already feeling so sensitive. He had a way of getting you so worked up, and the teasing was killing you.

"What is it? You don't like it?" he asked, but the smirk on his lips told you everything.

"Y-you know-," you breathed out, struggling to keep your words straight, "Fucking jerk"

"Mhm" he hummed, the pad of his thumb moving up to circle your clit, rubbing it gently, his fingers still moving inside you, "Is that so?" he asked. You could only nod, unable to keep your eyes open, the sensations overwhelming, his voice only making things worse, and the feeling of his fingers sliding in and out was too much.

The burning sensation on your tummy tightened just for a second before he went back to his slow and deliberate pace. You felt him move, and you realized he was positioning himself better, his face now at the level of your stomach. He kissed the skin just above the waistband of the skirt, fingers still working inside you. You took a quick look at him, the paint on his face, smudged around the round edges and his perfect lips not looking so perfectly painted anymore. You were not going to admit it out loud, but the messy look was something that did wonders to you, and you hated the thought of being able to have him like this, with a paint-stained face, and a body that was not the least bit tired of the day.

His mouth guided upwards then, following an invisible line that travelled from your belly button all the way to your lips again, kissing you as his fingers were still sliding in and out, his thumb still working circles over the bundle of nerves. You felt him shift his weight, his hand moving up from your waist, sliding over the back of your head and grabbing a fistful of hair. The sensation made your breath hitch.

Luke broke the kiss, a small grunt leaving his mouth, "You feel so good" he grunted, "So warm, and tight" his fingers curled inside you, again. His hand pulled slightly on your scalp, the tug feeling like electricity shooting through your spine.

He wanted to know if you´ll feel that good when he fucked you.

The thought alone had him throbbing painfully, aching to be inside you. Fuck-, he wanted it now.

"Let me fuck you" he asked, almost begged, "Let me fuck you, sweetheart. I know you want it." he whispered.

Gods, did he love a dirty talk.

You were so lost in pleasure that his words were barely registering, but the way he was touching you, and the way he was speaking to you. His front was almost pressed against you, your fingers taking a grip of the skin of his waist and back, scratching whenever the scissoring of his fingers hit that spot. And you loved the feeling of his hot skin touching with yours. Why not take it a little bit further?

"Go on then" you replied, barely, and a moan followed right after. He could tell it took a lot out of you, the effort to speak, but he could not have been more thankful for your reply. His fingers slid out of you, slowly, instantly missing the feeling of it.

Luke pressed another kiss on your lips before leaning away, "Sit up" he ordered, and you did. He didn´t say anything as he did the exact same thing while he got rid of his pants. His erection was obvious, tightened by the fabric of his boxers, and you could only watch, his cock hard, thick and pulsing.

He didn't even ask as he took a grip of the back of your leg, forcing you to straddle over him. The sudden move was quick, but you could only hold onto his shoulders, the new position making you sit directly on top of his erection, a hiss past his lips, but he liked it. He loved having you like this, and his hand was already reaching for the skirt, moving the fabric out of the way as you took matter into your own hands, pulling down on his underwear to relieve his painfully hard cock.

You held onto his length, the tip already wet, the precum leaking, and he groaned. He pressed his forehead against yours, his breathing labored, eyes closed. You stroked him slowly, your hand tightening around him.

"Shit" he muttered, "Don't stop" he moaned.

You moved your hand up and down, stroking his length, and his hips jerked against your palm, and he could have cum just right there. You twisted slightly around it, the pad of your thumb softly caressing his tip, stealing a filthy moan from the back of his throat. He only wanted this for a short time, or else he would explode on your hand, he knew it.

So he let you have your fun for a moment, before he took a hold of your wrist, stopping you, "You have no idea how close I am" he breathed. "Can I fuck you already?"

And come on, did he even need to ask?

You were quick to reply, "Stop asking and just do it". His arm moved around your waist, pushing his hand under the skirt, moving the fabric out of the way. The lost feeling of his fingers on you was soon replaced by the tip of his cock, teasing the entrance. He moaned. He didn't push in yet, his hand guiding his cock between the folds, rubbing his shaft against the wetness.

"You feel so good already" he moaned, his other hand holding onto the base of his length, giving himself a few pumps before he let his tip slide into you, his hand quickly grabbing a hold of the back of your neck, pulling your head towards him. And he was quick to slide inside.

His lips swallowed the small gasp that left you, the feeling of his cock stretching you being too much to handle in a matter of just a moment. "That's it, that's my girl" he muttered against you.

He began rocking his hips, slow and steady, letting you adjust. "Come on" he encouraged, his arm tightening around you. You began to move, slowly, the sensation almost unbearable, and he moaned, the feeling of him hitting the right spots was all it took. You usually hated this position; the discomfort on your thighs, the burning, how tiring it was, and the fact that the person on top always seemed to not hit the right spot. But with Luke, it was different. It felt different, damn it.

He grunted with a particular roll of your hips, and you moaned, the feeling of him filling you up being enough to make the fire burn hotter, and you clenched around him, causing him to let out a curse. He gripped the skin of your hips, his hips thrusting upwards, his cock sliding further into you, the sound of the two bodies colliding filling the room like a slap. His mouth fell open, his fingers digging into the flesh, holding onto you like his life depended on it, his eyes shut tightly, brows furrowed. And the sound, the lewd and wet sounds coming from the connection between the two bodies, mixed with the moans and the sound of skin, was delicious.

He felt so good, the way his hips bucked against yours, the way he stretched you, filled you, the way he moaned. It was the best fuck of your life, and you hadn't even reached the climax yet.

He placed a hand behind him, onto the mattress, the hand that still held you guiding the dancing of your hips. He began moving his hips, meeting each of your movements, his pace slower than before, but deeper. Your hands reached for his pelvis for your own support, nails scratching the skin.

"Fuck, fuck" he cursed. He let his head fall back, and the sight was mesmerizing, the veins on his neck, the sweat on his forehead, the messy black and white face paint, his mouth falling open and his chest raised and fell. His muscles flexed under the dim light, the moonlight shining over his skin. And his hair was a mess, and the way his Adam's apple bobbed with each swallow. You never thought someone could look that pretty while fucking.

"You´re being so great" he praised, "So good, sweetheart" his hips snapped, hard, and it hit just the right spot, and a gasp left your lips.

"Oh my-," you whimpered, "There, there, please" you begged. And Luke loved a good beg, he would have to remember that.

"Here?" he smirked, his hips rolling upwards again, the same movement, hitting the exact same spot, and a moan left his lips. He knew he found it when your walls tightened around him, and he couldn't help the way his own legs twitched.

Your thighs already burned, the muscles begging for mercy. It was painful, the strain, the effort, the exhaustion. You didn't want to admit it, but you found yourself thinking that you wouldn´t stop for Luke even if it hurt. He just felt too good to let go now.

"Keep going, don't stop"

And the way he fucked, and the way he was so good at it. Luke was a fast learner, and he didn't waste any time in finding the right spot, and he didn't hesitate on keeping his hips thrusting against you. He could tell by the way you moved, and the way you cried, that you were getting closer.

He felt your walls begin to tighten, and the way they did it, the feeling, was something else, and it only took him a few more rolls of his hips, and he could feel the heat begin to coil at the pit of his stomach. But he didn't want to cum just yet.

"Hold it, baby. Hold it for me, yeah?" he grunted. And the way he called you that, the way his voice was laced with a command, it made you weak. You didn't know how long you could last. He had already brought you to the edge once, and he was doing it again. He could feel the pressure building up, his hips stuttering. "We´ve got all night. Shit, I could fuck you all night" his voice was strained, and you knew he was getting closer too.

The more you tried to hold it, the worst everything felt. You needed to let it go in order to feel him let go too. You wanted-, needed Luke to finally snap, to release inside you. "Luke-" you called, and your voice was a whisper, and you didn't know if he heard it. "Please"

And you grabbed his hand, the one holding yout hips. Your poor movements kept on going as both your hands held his, leading it close to your lips. You placed a kiss on the knuckles, the gesture being enough for him to open his eyes and look at you, and not stop even when you darted his thumb to your lips, pressing them on your tongue.

He saw it before he felt it, the way your tongue moved along the pad of his thumb, the saliva sticking as you wrapped your mouth around his digit. Fuck. The sight-, the sight. You. You killed him. It was just the way he wanted you.

His hips stuttered and shook, your own breath getting caught up in your throat and tightening, the warmth pooling. You came undone. The orgasm washing over you like a wave, leaving you trembling and shaking, the feeling of your release was so powerful. And he came not long after. He couldn't help but follow your release, his own cock throbbing, releasing his cum inside you.

You felt like you could pass out, heavy breathing and sweating and all, the cold night air suddenly hitting both of your heated bodies.

You fell forward, your arms wrapping around his shoulders, holding onto him as if you were drowning. Luke wrapped his own arms around your back, pulling you close, his chest rising and falling against yours, his heartbeat fast and erratic, just like yours.

"Gods-" he said, panting, his hands roaming over your back.

"Yeah" you laughed, lifting your head up to look at him, your breath hitting his face when you still managed to catch your breath. Luke chuckled then, a little hum vibrating on his chest. "What?" you asked.

Luke gestured his face with a hand, but his eyes roamed over your face constantly; your eyes, your cheeks, your nose. Even down your neck. "I did a number on you, huh?" he chuckled.

[cleo-fox]

Unraveled

Summary: It was all fun and games until Loki started wearing that goddamn sweater.

Pairing: Loki x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, dirty talk, praise kink, teasing, orgasm delay, sex, vaginal fingering, godly refractory periods, kitchen sex, semi public sex, Loki in a sweater.

A/N: My explanation for this one is that I saw too many pictures of Tom Hiddleston in a sweater and it gave me thoughts.

Being an Avenger has made you pretty good at rolling with the punches. After your third or fourth encounter with some alien/wizard/android bullshit, your perspective is fundamentally altered and real life seems manageable in a way that it didn’t before. You have to call your insurance company to dispute a claim? Big deal, you’ve negotiated with terrorists; you can handle Garth from Member Services.

The thing is, having that kind of perspective means that the things that do get to you can rattle you a lot more than they should. Natasha had warned you about that, but you were riding high on the thrill of successfully conquering Blue Cross Blue Shield and you kind of got to thinking she was exaggerating.

And then the seasons started to turn and Loki started wearing that goddamn sweater.

You can recognize when someone is out of your league. When you first moved into the Tower, it had been relatively easy for you to assign Loki to that category: he was a god. He’d been featured in last month’s GQ. You were mortal and your most recent press had been a TMZ story featuring unflattering paparazzi photos of you leaving a bodega in your pajamas at seven o’clock in the morning, a bagel halfway into your mouth. You were clearly not the same.

Up until the sweater, you’d managed to keep your cool around Loki and keep your attraction confined to daydreams and the occasional surreptitious lustful glance. Hell, you’d even had the nerve to be proud of yourself for keeping your shit together in front of him.

The sweater lays waste to all of that.

On the surface, it doesn’t seem like a sweater that is capable of completely destroying your carefully constructed composure. It’s a fairly standard crew neck in a deep green so dark it almost looks black at a first glance. But on Loki it just…does things to you. The fabric is well fitted, clinging to his biceps, pulling taut across his chest, emphasizing the line of his pectorals. It somehow accentuates how muscular he is while also still making him look lean and lithe.

The first time he wears it, you find your eyes just trail to him of their own volition, like an incredibly horny moth to the flame. It’s a day of catching yourself staring, panicking, pretending that you were actually looking at something else, and then repeating the process five minutes later when your gaze inevitably wandered again. It almost would have been funny if it didn’t put your blood pressure into the stratosphere.

To make matters worse, at the end of that day’s debriefing, he rises from his chair and raises his arms to the ceiling in a long stretch. The hem of the sweater creeps up, exposing the firm, flat muscles of his stomach, lightly dusted with a trail of hair that meanders in a tantalizing path down to his belt buckle.

You promptly choke on your own spit. Clint claps you hard on the back and asks if you’re okay, which is a question you don’t know how to answer (ultimately, you stick to a thumbs up and mumble something about dust getting caught in your throat). Loki is too preoccupied complaining about the entire concept of office furniture to notice. Or at least you’re pretty sure he doesn’t notice.

You might have been okay if that had been the only incident, but the sweater makes a repeat appearance on Friday. The following Tuesday features the deadly combination of the sweater with a pair of tight, dark wash jeans that nearly send you into cardiac arrest. Your fantasies suddenly become much more frequent and detailed.

You are not really sure what to do about this—it’s not like you can talk to anyone about it, nor can you ask him to stop wearing it without prompting some very uncomfortable questions. The idea that you’ll get used to it is laughable. 

You look at your calendar and note that spring is six months away. At least.

Fucking hell.

*

It’s a Saturday afternoon and in a strange quirk of scheduling, almost everyone is out of town for a mission or a personal obligation, leaving the Tower unusually quiet. As much as you enjoy the daily clatter and chaos that comes with living here, you find a lot of comfort in these moments of quiet, however infrequent they may be.

You intended to make yourself a late afternoon snack. That was the plan, anyway. But as you’re standing at the kitchen counter and cutting up the fruit you just washed, you realize that you’re not entirely alone. From this vantage point, you can see Loki lounging on the couch in the next room and reading.

He’s wearing the sweater. Of course he’s wearing the sweater. And the so-tight-they-should-be-illegal dark wash jeans.

Goddammit.

You have the sense to set the knife down at least. The last thing you need is a trip to the hospital because you got too distracted by your hot colleague while handling a knife.

You let your gaze travel along the firm muscles of his chest. It’s just a sweater. It shouldn’t look this good. It shouldn’t prompt these kinds of thoughts. And yet…

He shifts on the couch and the hem of the sweater creeps up. His hand drops to his belt buckle. It’s entirely appropriate, but the way his long, long fingers are splayed against his stomach makes your mind drop straight to the gutter and wonder what they’d look like wrapped around his rock hard co—

“You know, it’s rude to stare.”

His voice comes from behind you and adrenaline surges through you like an electric shock. The Loki on the couch looks up at you and smirks before disappearing in a shimmer of green.

You wonder if it’s possible to die of embarrassment and a heart attack all at the same time. It certainly feels like you’re about to.

You take a deep breath and try to collect yourself, which feels largely futile. Come on, get it together. You’ve negotiated with terrorists and insurance companies. Shake it off.

You slowly turn around, cheeks burning. Loki is standing right behind you, arms folded across his chest. You swallow.

“I um. I was—I was just…” Words escape you as your brain fires in every direction except a helpful one.

“You were just what?” His expression is intense, but you’re not sure that he’s angry.

“Spacing out,” you say, trying to infuse your voice with confidence that you absolutely do not feel.

He places his hands on the counter behind you, intentionally caging you in with his body. You are overwhelmed by the scent of him—a masculine, wintery musk that makes you want to bury your face against his chest.

“Try again,” he says. His voice is deep enough to rattle your bones.

You swallow. Everything you could possibly say seems wildly inadequate.

Loki has never been one to be at a loss for words, though, and after a moment of terrified silence from you, he continues speaking.

“I’ve noticed something curious over these past few weeks,” he says. “When I wear this sweater, you can’t seem to take your eyes off of me.”

Your heart is pounding. Fucking hell. Have you really been that obvious?

“Now why is that?” he asks, his voice a low purr.

You briefly consider trying to lie again, but the piercing green of his eyes instantly makes you rethink it. “I um…” You swallow hard. “It’s just…it suits you. You…you look good.”

He raises an eyebrow. “I look good?”

You nod.

“Interesting.” His lips twitch in a slight smirk as he looks you up and down. “And how does that make you feel?”

Your heart thuds in your chest, your stomach contorting with a strange combination of fear and desire. You’re still humiliated, but the sound of his voice and the dark intensity of his gaze is intoxicating and incredibly arousing.

“I don’t—I don’t know how to answer that question.”

“Oh, I think you do.” There’s a rawness in his voice that makes your cunt clench.

You shake your head, eyes wide. You’re pretty sure he’s not really mad, but you also don't know where this is going. Surely he’s not making a pass at you…right?

“How does it make you feel to see me in this sweater?” he continues, his voice a low whisper. He pauses for a moment and when you don’t answer, he continues. “Does it…arouse you, perhaps?”

Holy fuck.

This can’t be happening.

You try to think of something clever or sexy, but the bluntness of the question and the fire in his eyes kills whatever remaining brain cells you have left. Mutely, you nod.

There’s that smirk again as he licks his lips. “Are you wet right now?”

Your cheeks burn. You give the tiniest nod possible.

“Hmm.” His hand alights on the button of your jeans. “I believe you Midgardians have a saying that is appropriate here: trust, but verify.” He slips the button free and your heart pounds like a war drum in your chest. 

You cannot believe this is happening.

“You haven’t been entirely truthful in this conversation.” His palm presses flat against your stomach, the tips of his fingers slipping under the waistband of your underwear. “So I’m afraid I’m going to have to see for myself.”

His hand is achingly slow, creeping lower and lower. He watches you intently as his hand cups your sex, seemingly cataloging the way your breath hitches and all the little shivers that run through you.

His middle finger finally slides between your folds and you can’t help but moan.

“Oh, you did lie to me,” he growls, his index finger joining his middle, both sliding up to circle your clit. “You’re not wet, you’re soaked.”

Your legs are already starting to tremble and you grab on to his shoulders to try and steady yourself. The fabric of the sweater is softer than a cloud against your hands.

“Sopping wet,” he continues, trapping your right leg between his thighs and the counter, the heavy weight of his erection pressing eagerly against your hip. “And this is all for me?”

Wordlessly, you nod. There’s no point in denying it—and you don’t think he wants you to, either.

“What am I going to do about this?” he muses. His index and middle fingers lightly circle your clit again and you whimper.

“Don’t stop,” you gasp. “Please don’t stop.”

“Don’t stop?” he says. His tone is one of light curiosity, like you’re just chatting casually about the weather. “But if I continue, you’re almost certainly going to come.”

“Yes,” you gasp. “Please.”

“Oh, you want me to make you come?” You can hear the smirk in his voice. “Right here in the middle of the kitchen?”

You nod.

“Anyone could walk in, though,” he purrs. “Anyone could come in and see me with my fingers buried in your dripping cunt. What would they think if they saw you so utterly debauched and at my mercy, begging for me to make you come?”

“Don’t care…” you gasp. How are you already so close?

He raises an eyebrow. “You don’t care what they’d think if they saw us like this?”

You shake your head.

“Oh, you must be desperate.” He adjusts his hand, his thumb taking up the rhythm on your clit while his index finger sinks into your slick channel, making you gasp.

“Loki, please—”

“Begging already,” he says, not letting up in his rhythm. “Has it been a long time, sweetheart? When did you last feel this good?”

It’s not a question you can answer. You don’t know that anyone ever has made you feel like this. You moan, your hips bucking hard against his hand.

“Poor thing,” he tuts. “You’re clearly desperate for it. What kinds of filthy thoughts have you had about me?” he purrs. “I’ve seen you staring, I’ve heard your breath hitch. Have you touched yourself while thinking of me?”

You manage a nod and his smile turns feral. “When was the last time?”

“Last…last night,” you gasp.

“How many times did you come?”

“F-Four.”

“Filthy girl.” His free hand slides up to cradle the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as he tips your head back. “Next time, all you have to do is ask.”

His mouth covers yours, his tongue pushing past your lips as he slides a second finger into you. You moan into his mouth as the pressure in your hips increases.

“Oh yes, let me hear all of those pretty noises,” he murmurs. “Are you going to let me fuck you against the counter after I make you come?”

You nod, whimpering.

“Good girl,” he purrs. “I think you need to be fucked properly and hard. Is that what you need?”

“Yes,” you gasp.

“Mmm, that’s what I thought. This cunt is just too wet and needy for any other treatment.” He draws back to look at you more fully, giving you a lazy, hungry smile. “You’re about to lose it all over my fingers, aren’t you?”

Your orgasm is cresting, the tingling pressure in your hips becoming unbearable. You nod, lost for words.

With one more smirk, he curls his fingers inside of you. “Come for me, pretty girl, let me see you.”

Your cunt spasms around his thrusting fingers and your whole body shudders as your orgasm overtakes you, your head tipping back as you cry out.

“Oh, that’s it,” he murmurs, “there’s my good girl.”

A shiver runs through you at his words, your hips still moving against his hand, trying to draw out every last ripple of pleasure.

He kisses you as you come down from your high, and you take the opportunity to run your hands over his chest and tentatively feel the hard planes of muscle that you’ve been staring at these last few weeks. But after a few moments, he takes your hand and guides it to his cock.

His preference for leather pants or those sinfully tight dark wash jeans made you suspect that the size of his ego might actually be proportionate to the size of his cock and your initial assessment seems to confirm that theory. You rub your fingers over the denim that covers his thick shaft, feeling yourself grow even wetter at the low groan he makes in the back of his throat.

“Take my cock out.” His voice is so deep and his eyes are so smoldering, it feels like the command goes straight to your cunt. You are practically trembling with anticipation as your shaking hands  make quick work of the button, buckle, and zipper.

You can’t help but suck in a breath when his cock comes into view. He’s long and deliciously thick—big enough to be a little intimidating, but not overwhelmingly so.

He guides your hand to wrap around his shaft. He barely fits in your hand. “Look at what you’ve done to me,” he says, his voice raspy as he guides your hand to stroke his cock. “Feel how hard I am for you, feel how much I want you.”

His cock practically pulses with need, the tip slick with pre-come and you grasp him more firmly, your cunt pulsing as he gives a deeply satisfying groan.

You stroke him from base to tip, squeezing lightly. He groans again. “They told me to stay away from you, you know,” he says.

You aren’t so far gone that you can let this information slip by. “What? Who?”

“Stark. Rogers. Romanoff. My brother.” He reaches behind you and shoves the fruit and cutting board into the side, the knife clattering into the sink. “They saw how I looked at you,” he says. “They saw that I wanted you. They told me you were too good for me. Too sweet.”

You feel your jeans and underwear melt away in a shimmer of green and he lifts you easily onto the counter.

His eyes flash with desire. “I wonder what they’d say if they knew you’d let me fuck you raw in the middle of the kitchen?”

For a brief moment, frustration almost wins out over your lust. “We could have done this sooner?”

His gaze turns serious. “Darling, we could have done this the moment we met, but I’m told a handshake is more appropriate.”

You take a breath, about to embark on a rant about the individuals he’d named and how they hadn’t even asked, they’d just assumed, but Loki puts a hand up against your mouth.

“Don’t make me wait any longer,” he says. There’s a sincerity and a need in his gaze that you’ve never seen before and it’s enough to calm your anger for just a moment.

“Okay,” you say, wrapping your legs around his waist and angling your hips toward his, “but clear your schedule because I’m gonna need you to fuck me a lot to make up for all that time.”

His grin is feral as he pushes into you.

You shiver at the blunt stretch of his cock, your hands gripping his broad shoulders. He indulges in a low groan as his hips press flush against yours.

“If I’d known they were keeping me from this tight cunt, I would’ve done something sooner,” he rasps. “You feel absolutely perfect.”

“Please,” you breathe, “I need—please.”

His hips snap hard against yours and you moan, your head tipping back.

His eyes glitter as he pulls you close, pressing his mouth against your ear. “The next time I have you, I will be sweet and soft.”

“And this time?” you ask, though you think you already know the answer.

“This time—” His mouth presses against the curve of your neck, teeth scraping just this side of too hard against the tender skin. “—I’m going to utterly ruin you.”

His pace is fast and rough—the word possessive comes to mind. You twist the luxurious fabric of his sweater in your hands as his cock hits that sweet, aching spot inside of you, pressing against your sensitive cunt in a way that makes your muscles spasm and clench around him. You moan, a shiver rolling through you as you inch closer to release.

“I’m…fuck, I’m getting close,” you gasp.

His pace abruptly slows and his grin is wide and his eyes are dancing with mirth when he raises his head from your shoulder.

“That was unnecessary,” you say with a scowl.

“Oh, I just want to savor you for a little longer, my love,” he purrs as he settles into an easy and slow pace that still makes your toes curl. “You’re going to take me right over the edge with you and I’ve waited so terribly long to have you.”

“I feel like you’re probably omitting the fact that you like being a tease,” you say.

He grins again, increasing his pace ever so slightly. “Both things can be true.”

He does this a few times—taking up a wicked pace that almost sends you hurtling over the edge, only to slow at the last possible moment, silencing your whimpering protests with a deep and slow kiss that is good enough to make you forgive him until a few minutes later when he does it all over again.

You hold out for as long as you can, but eventually, the ache in your hips overwhelms you.

“Loki,” you breathe when his pace again begins to increase. “Please don’t stop.”

“Don’t stop?” he rasps, somehow finding the concentration to raise an eyebrow. “You’re quite sure?”

You nod.

“You want to come all over my cock?”

Speech is slightly beyond you at this point, but you manage to gasp a desperate plea as you hurtle into the final plateau, right before the fall.

Loki regards you with that same playful look as he fucks you. You wait, unsure of what he’s going to do, your body desperately crying out for your release.

His lips curl into a smile. “Come for me, sweet thing.”

At the sound of his voice, every one of your muscles is tensing and releasing, the slick walls of your cunt clamping down hard on the thick girth of his cock as you shudder and moan.

The remnants of Loki’s composure are fraying, his eyes closed and his jaw slack as he chases his own end. His brow furrows and he throws his head back, letting out a low groan as he comes and you think it might be the best sound you’ve ever heard.

You sag against him as you both come down from your respective highs, his heart beating hard under the soft fabric of his sweater. He reaches for your face, tilting your head back so he can kiss you, impossibly slow and soft.

You’re in the middle of the kitchen. You understand this. In a wholly rational world, you would be quick to hop off the counter, quick to try and negotiate the return of your jeans from whatever pocket dimension he’s sent them to.

Instead, you find yourself wanting to stay in this moment, with his arms wrapped around you, his cock still pulsing inside you as he kisses you breathless.

You count to ten, then twenty. At forty, you draw back slightly, only to have him pull you back into the kiss.

It’s somewhere after one hundred when he trails his lips to your neck and you manage to say what you intended: “We should probably…” you trail off as he sucks at your pulse point, sending a shiver down your spine.

“We should probably what?” he murmurs against your neck, before tracing a lazy figure eight with the tip of his tongue.

It takes you a moment to find that sentence. “Get dressed and such.”

You feel the sharp press of his smile against your skin. “I think not.”

Before you can open your mouth to say anything, the kitchen is fading in a shimmer of green to an unfamiliar bedroom and the two of you tumble into a bed draped in green silk.

“I’d like to stay like this for a while,” he says, a smile playing at his lips as he slowly rolls his hips against you, somehow still impossibly hard. “In fact, I think I need to have you again.”

“I can live with that,” you say. You tug at the fabric of his sweater. “But this is going to have to go.”

His gaze is smoldering and his bare skin is suddenly pressed against yours as the sweater and the rest of your clothes disappear in that familiar shimmer of green.

“Will you like me as much without it?” he asks, rolling his hips against you.

You drag your fingernails up along the firm muscles of his back. “I think I’ll manage.”

“Good,” he says, leaning in to kiss you, “because as I understand it, we have quite a lot of time to make up for.”

[lotussimscc]

My Favorite Downloadable Sim Creators!

If you are anything like me, you end up putting a lot of effort into your main character sim, but don't really have the energy to create the rest of the town. The townies the game creates just don't fit the world you created in your head, so you end up disappointed. Well, a great solution is downloading other people's amazing sims and using MCCC to populate them in your town! No more random ugly townies, now you have pretty people with their own stories! Here is my list of favorite sim creators (in no particular order) and a brief description about what they make:

@wildfairies (Tag/Patreon) - Maxis-Match, CC-Mid. Makes a nice blend of regular and occult sims. They all look unique and pretty without being too overly detailed or distracting while playing! Most available sims have one outfit each.

@sunnyssimming (Tag/Patreon) - Maxis-Mix, CC-mid. Makes gorgeous female sims (and one guy). She makes mostly Maxis-Match, but some hair or makeup might dip into the alpha category. Available sims have one outfit each.

@m0ckest (Tag/Patreon) - Maxis-Match, CC-Free (she has a page with default replacements she uses if you want the sims to look one-to-one). She releases townie makeovers, brand-new sims, and lots. I'm honestly pretty impressed with how good her sims look without using CC!

@pearlean (Tag/Patreon) - Maxis-Match/Custom Art Style, CC-Mid/Heavy. She has her own art style which I would say is closest to something like Telltale's Walking Dead game, which is aided by her beautiful GShade preset. Some base sims and some with one outfit.

@nikatyler (Tag/Patreon) - Maxis-Match, CC-Lite. If you want a full catalog of available sims, you'll want to check her out (seriously, 29 pages of Sims 4 downloads alone, and she has stuff for Sims 3 as well). She has townie makeovers, brand-new sims, lots, and a good mix of regular and occult sims! Most downloads have all outfits included.

@seyvia (Tag) - Maxis-Mix, CC-Mid/Heavy. She has a more cartoony art style with large eyes and expressive faces, which is right up my alley! She has also remade the Stardew Valley bachelors/bachelorettes and even has some CC-Free downloads. Downloads have all outfits included.

@puppycheesecake (Tag) - Maxis-Match, CC-Mid. They have some really creative ideas for sims, with a lot of horror/occult/fantasy-inspired ones (although there are plenty of regular sims, too!) Some downloads have all outfits, some have one, but it is labelled which is which on each sim.

@youngcozyboy (Tag) - Maxis-Mix/Alpha, CC-Heavy. Anime/cartoon-influenced, with some more NSFW downloads/pictures sprinkled in there. They have a large catalog of downloads/townie makeovers and plenty of fantasy-inspired sims (which is something I always love to see). They are Korean, so you'll have to rename the sims once you've downloaded them if you don't speak it, but that isn't a big deal. Also, their screenshots are so expressive and pretty, it really captures each sim's personality! Most sims have one outfit included.

@ladychaos (Tag/Patreon) - Maxis-Match, CC-Lite/Free. She has her own save file that you can download and use, but she also posts everything to the gallery and her Patreon! Her lots and households all have a cozy look/feel to them and have their own stories to tell. I particular love her Strangerville ones! All downloads have all outfits included.

@bansheeso (Tag/Patreon) - Maxis-Match/Mix, CC-Mid. If you are looking for some pretty occult boys (and one girl), then she is the person to go to. I love populating my town with some occult/fantasy sims, so her creations are great for my world! Their household names are in Ukrainian, but that's not a problem since they can easily be renamed. Each download has one outfit.

@fallstaticexit (Tag) - Maxis-Match, CC-Mid. Some nice looking townie makeovers along with some retired sims from their stories. Really solid additions to any world! If you do check her out, be sure to look at her Children of the Forest story, I'm very invested in it! Some come with all their outfits and some come with one.

@acuar-io (Tag/Patreon) - Maxis-Match, CC-Mid. He makes some great, unique-looking sims and makeovers. No same-face syndrome here, each sim has their own distinct face structure with some wrinkles, moles, and other details that I feel like get overlooked too often to make the most beautiful sim. Unique sims have one outfit and makeovers have all outfits.

@kharssims (Tag) - Maxis-Match, CC-Mid/High. He focuses on male sims and they look great! The perfect amount of facial details like wrinkles, freckles, and moles to keep them looking unique and like an actual person you could come across. Each download has one outfit.

@thebramblewood (Tag) - Maxis-Match, CC-Lite/Mid. While they may not have a huge catalog, I think that they have a great selection of maxis-match sims, both makeovers and originals, to choose from. My personal favorite of theirs is Bridget Bledsoe from their Occult Sim Dump! Each sim has one outfit.

Some Honorable Mentions!

@occultradio (Tag) - Maxis-Match, CC-Mid. They don't make sim downloads often, but I love the ones they have available so much. Their Mothman is one of my favorite sims in my entire gallery!

@mothelette - They don't have their sims up for download, but I gotta point out the witchcraft they perform to make their beautifully-stylized sims. Their creations are amazing.

@nefarrilou - They don't have their sims up for download, but they do create beautiful lookbooks. Occults, townie makeovers, and recreations of popular characters in media, they'll have something you'll enjoy!

[sweeterlovers]

MS. MADRID/ FERNANDO ALONSO + JUDE BELLINGHAM

jude bellignham x alonso reader / SMAU FIC

FACE CLAIM / none!

WARNINGS / some thirsting, cursing, and my little to none football knowledge

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TWITTER

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INSTAGRAM

liked by carlossainz55, landonorris, and 126,973 others

yn.alonso ⚽️🥅🏟️

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user3 you survived your first game!!!!

yn.alonso it was a struggle 😭

user7 i remember when my boyfriend took me to football game and i swear i almost fell asleep like 10 times

user06 i’m sure fernando had a blast

lance_stroll you should come to a hockey game with me, it’s more entertaining

yn.alonso next time my dad tells me he has an extra ticket i’ll take you up on that offer

lance_stroll 😂 😂

fernandoalo_oficial i will force you to come to the next game

yn.alonso please don’t 🙏🙏

user2 i think you were the teams lucky charm 👏

user16 pretty girls support real madrid 😉

user0636 linda!!!! [ cute ]

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TWITTER

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INSTAGRAM

yn.alonso posted on their story!

liked by fernandoalo_oficial, carmenmmundt, and 78,193 others

[ dinner in barcelona 🇪🇸 ]

view all story replies

fernandoalo_oficial te ves hermosa [ you look beautiful ]

yn.alonso gracias papa [ thank you dad ]

judebellingham hey! i saw some of your tweets about me, i was wondering if you maybe wanted to go out for dinner with me? i’m in madrid for a bit!

yn.alonso heyyyyyy…… sorry you had to see those tweets

judebellingham don’t worry i’ve seen worse 😂

yn.alonso but i would love to go to dinner with you!

judebellingham great! i’ll text you the details :)

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INSTAGRAM

liked by realmadridgossip, wagfootball, and 68,262 others

footballgossip jude bellingham spotted in Madrid on a date with a mystery girl! do we have a new football wag? let us know what you think!

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user2 my heart just shattered

user09 my husband got a girlfriend 😭

user7 who cares???

user666 someone needs to check on yn

user3 why?

user61 cause she’s down bad for him 😭

user12 ok but what if that’s her????

user9 oooooo!!!! your on to something

user4 wish that was me….

user8 y’all that’s me in the picture!

user218 girl me and you both know that that’s not true

user02 i wonder if they will come out to the public

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INSTAGRAM

liked by yn.alonso, realmadrid, and 972,979 others

judebellingham spain so far 👍🇪🇸

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user5 HE SOFT LAUNCHED

user0 hope your having a good time!

user44 who’s the girl?

user8 if only we knew

user13 i just know yn is devastated

lucasvazquez91 🔥🔥🔥

user3 so fine and for what

fernandoalo_oficial 👏 👏

user46 is this a sign that yn and jude are together??????

user9 i love how fernando won’t let yn date an f1 driver but he’ll let her date a football player😭

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liked by judebellingham, carlossainz55 and 762,393 others

yn.alonso boyfriend so cute i had to hard launch him

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user4 yes yes yes

judebellingham your so cute

yn.alonso I LOVE U

user55 the question is did fernando approve?

yn.alonso he actually did!!! mostly cause that would mean i would watch football games with him……

user8 yeah he’s cute and all but that top is BEAUTIFUL

user00 ugh he’s so hot

user2 i’m just going to lay in the middle of the street for a bit

fernandoalo_oficial ❤️⚽️

user8 we are getting wag yn!!!!!!!

user6 i also thought she would date an f1 driver 😭😭😭

user7 nah fernando would crash into them

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TEAM RADIO / SWEETLOVERS - not my usual type of post but it’s been in my drafts for a bit.

[mcrdvcks]

i love you, in every time ࿐‧₊ 2004 - i love you, i'm sorry

chapter summary: After an incident involving Jean and Scott at Alkali Lake, the team tries to figure out what happened and how to help their teammate.

word count: 9.1k+

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

notes: i know that technically 'the last stand' takes place in 2006, three years after 'x2', but for the sake of the story, i moved it forward some (hell, the story line is already ruined, jean's alive!). this pretty much follows the movie almost exactly, with a few changes and character switches, you'll see when you read ;)

also, i didn't write the full movie, there were some scenes i felt didn't need to be in the story or wouldn't contribute anything to what i'm writing, so there are a lot of skips.

warnings/tags: follows events of 'the last stand' (strays slightly), slight fluff, angst, violence, character death(s)

series masterlist - chapter 8, chapter 8.5 → chapter 10

“What the hell was that?” Ororo asked.

“Danger Room session.” Logan answered.

“You know what I mean.”

“Oh, lighten up, Storm.”

“Look, you can’t just change the rules when you feel like it. I’m tryin’ to teach ‘em something.”

“I taught ‘em something.”

“It was a defensive exercise.”

“Yeah. Best defensive is a good offense.” Logan tilted his head, “or is it the other way around?”

Ororo stopped walking and turned to face him, “this isn’t a game, Logan.”

“Well, you sure fooled me. Hey, I’m just a sub. You got a problem, talk to Scott.”

The elevator doors opened as you walked out into the sleek silver halls, “and where is Scott anyways?” Ororo asked.

You held a clipboard as you walked over to the two, the soft click of your shoes against the metallic floors catching Ororo’s attention. Adjusting your glasses with one hand, you scanned the paper in front of you before answering.

“Jean said something about going somewhere, and Scott followed. I’m not sure where though.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Of course, he did,” he muttered, more to himself than to anyone else. His gaze shifted to you, softening slightly, though his smirk remained. “What about you, darlin’? You checkin’ in on us or just tryin’ to make sure I’m not causin’ trouble?”

“Little bit of both,” you replied quietly, a shy smile creeping onto your face. The teasing in his tone always made your heart skip, but you weren’t about to let him know that. Not yet, at least.

“Good luck with that,” Ororo said dryly, crossing her arms as she regarded Logan. “He’s impossible.”

“I heard that,” Logan shot back, though his eyes were still locked on you. His stance relaxed, hands casually slipping into his pockets. “And I ain’t impossible, sweetheart. Just a little... unconventional.”

Ororo rolled her eyes, but you couldn’t help the soft laugh that escaped you. “Unconventional is one word for it,” you muttered under your breath, glancing down at your clipboard.

Logan chuckled at that, stepping closer until he was standing just a foot or so away. “You’re spendin’ too much time with me if you’re pickin’ up my bad habits,” he said, his voice lower now, meant just for you.

Your cheeks warmed, and you adjusted your glasses, focusing on the notes in front of you to avoid his piercing gaze. “Someone has to keep you in check,” you countered softly, earning another grin from him.

Ororo cleared her throat, her expression a mix of mild annoyance and amusement. “If you two are done flirting, can we get back to the matter at hand?”

You blinked, your face flushing even more at her words. “We weren’t—” you started, but Logan cut you off.

“Flirtin’? Nah, Storm, this is just me bein’ charming.” He leaned slightly closer to you, his smirk widening. “Ain’t that right, sweetheart?”

Your lips parted, but no words came out. The warmth in your cheeks spread, and you quickly turned your attention back to Ororo, hoping to steer the conversation back on track. “Uh, right. The Danger Room session,” you said, clearing your throat. “I think it went... well? Mostly?”

“Mostly,” Ororo echoed, raising an eyebrow at Logan. “You mean aside from him completely derailing the exercise?”

“C’mon,” Logan said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “The kids learned somethin’. That’s the point, right?”

“They were supposed to learn defensive techniques,” Ororo pointed out, her tone sharp. “Not how to dive headfirst into a fight.”

Logan shrugged. “Sometimes a good offense—”

“—is the best defense,” Ororo finished for him, shaking her head. “Yes, we’ve heard it before. It’s still not what we were working on.”

You glanced between them, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling. Logan’s ability to push Ororo’s buttons was almost an art form, but you knew he respected her, even if he’d never admit it outright.

“Maybe next time,” you said gently, stepping in before the argument could escalate further, “you two can coordinate beforehand? That way, no one’s caught off guard.”

Logan tilted his head, considering your suggestion, while Ororo gave you a small nod of approval. “Fair enough,” Logan said finally, his tone begrudging but not unkind. “But I still think my way’s better.”

Ororo shot him a look, and you couldn’t suppress the laugh that bubbled up this time. “Let’s just call it a draw and move on,” you said, earning a chuckle from Logan and a sigh from Ororo.

“You’re too nice to him,” Ororo muttered as she turned to leave. “One of these days, you’ll regret it.”

Logan’s eyes followed her until she disappeared down the hall, then shifted back to you. “She’s got a point, y’know,” he said, his tone teasing. “You’re way too nice to me.”

“Someone has to be,” you replied without missing a beat, though your voice remained soft.

His grin widened, and he took another step closer, his hand brushing lightly against your arm. The casual intimacy of the gesture made your pulse quicken. “Lucky for me, huh?” he murmured.

Your eyes darted to his, and for a moment, the rest of the world seemed to fade away. The steady, grounding presence of Logan was all you could focus on. His hand lingered against your arm, his touch warm and familiar in a way that made you feel safe and seen.

“Yeah,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “Lucky for you.”

The corner of his mouth quirked up, and he leaned in slightly, his voice dropping even lower. “Y’know, darlin’, if we keep this up, Storm’s gonna start thinkin’ she’s right.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head as you pulled back just enough to regain your composure. “Let her think what she wants,” you said, though the warmth in your cheeks betrayed your attempt at nonchalance.

Logan’s gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before he finally stepped back, his hand falling away from your arm. “Alright,” he said, his tone light but his eyes still holding that unmistakable softness. “Guess I’ll see you later, then.”

“Yeah,” you said, your smile shy but genuine. “See you later.”

As he walked away, you couldn’t help but watch him go, your heart still racing from the exchange. It was moments like these that reminded you just how deeply he’d wormed his way into your life—and your heart.

---

“-sound waves almost always generate a little bit of heat as they travel, and almost always end up as heat when they are absorbed. Sound and heat are both macroscopic descriptions of the movement of atoms and molecul- ” Sharp ringing in your head cut you off, with the Professor’s voice ringing in not only your head, but everyone else’s.

“Scott. Scott. Scott. Scott. Scott. Scott- ”

You put down the dry erase marker on your desk and ran towards the Professor’s office, getting there at the same time Logan and Ororo did.

“Professor, you okay?” Logan asked.

“Get to Alkali Lake.”

---

The Blackbird descended down beneath the fog into a wooded area. As the three of you descended the ramp hardly anything could be seen.

You all walked slowly through the area, small objects like the leaves you stepped on and dew floating without any of you noticing.

“I can’t see a damn thing.” Logan said.

“I can take care of that.” Ororo looked up at the sky as she cleared the fog from the beach to reveal rocks and small debris floating above the sand.

“What the…” Logan muttered. A small rock floated close by as he gently tapped it, making it float away.

The three of you shared a glance before splitting up, walking in different directions but never straying too far. After a few moments Ororo’s voice broke out, “guys!”

You and Logan ran over to where Ororo was kneeling. Her hand rested on Jean's arm as she leaned closer to inspect her unconscious form. The redhead looked peaceful, almost too peaceful for someone sprawled out on the rocky ground.

"Jean," you said, voice soft but urgent as you crouched down. Your fingers pressed to the side of her neck, searching for a pulse. Relief flooded you when you found it—steady and strong. "She's alive."

Logan exhaled sharply through his nose, crouching beside you. "She doesn't look hurt," he muttered, his brow furrowed as he scanned her face. "But what the hell happened out here?"

"I don't know," Ororo said, her voice tight with concern. "But this... this isn’t normal." She gestured at the debris floating lazily in the air around you. Even the faintest breeze didn’t seem to disturb the unnatural stillness of the objects.

You brushed a strand of Jean’s hair away from her face, your fingers trembling slightly. “We should get her back to the mansion,” you said. “The Professor might be able to help.”

Logan nodded. “I’ll carry her.” Without hesitation, he slipped his arms beneath Jean and lifted her with ease, cradling her close to his chest. His eyes flicked to you briefly, his expression softening for just a moment. “Stay close.”

You nodded, your hand instinctively brushing against his arm as you rose to your feet. The three of you started back toward the Blackbird, the eerie quiet of the area pressing down on you like a weight. The leaves and rocks continued to float aimlessly, defying gravity in a way that made your skin crawl.

Once aboard the Blackbird, Logan gently set Jean down on one of the seats, securing her with a harness. You sat beside her, keeping a close eye on her for any signs of movement. Logan and Ororo moved to the cockpit, preparing for takeoff.

“Anything?” Logan asked as he glanced back over his shoulder at you.

You shook your head, biting your lip. “She hasn’t moved.” Your fingers lightly brushed against Jean’s wrist, feeling the steady thrum of her pulse again. “But she’s stable.”

Logan grunted, his jaw tightening. “Good. Let’s get back and figure out what the hell’s goin’ on.”

---

You and the Professor were in the medbay, with him sitting at the head of the bed while you ran scans of Jean’s brain and kept an eye on her vitals.

“Is she gonna be okay?” You asked.

“Jean Grey is the only class five mutant I’ve ever encountered, her potential practically limitless. Her mutation is seated in the unconscious part of her mind, and therein lay the danger. When she was a girl, I created a series of psychic barriers to isolate her powers from her conscious mind. And, as a result, Jean developed a dual personality.”

“W-what?” You muttered.

“The conscious Jean, whose powers were always in her control… and the dormant side, a personality that, in our sessions, came to call itself the Phoenix—a purely instinctual creature, all desire and joy… and rage.”

You thought back to the Jean you knew, she was kind and calm, she could never be… this. “Did Jean know about this?” You questioned, holding the tablet to your chest.

“It’s unclear how much she knew. Far more critical is whether the woman in front of us is the Jean Grey we know or the Phoenix furiously struggling to be free.”

“Well, she looks… peaceful.” You observed, tilting your head as you looked at her still calm expression.

“Because I’m keeping her that way.” Charles spoke, “I’m trying to restore the psychic blocks and cage the beast again.”

You straightened, “are you… trying to control her?”

“She has to be.”

“What happens if you just make the beast angry and it lashes out? What happens then?”

“You have no idea,” Charles said quietly, “you have no idea of what she’s capable. I had a choice to make. I chose the lesser of two evils.”

“Did Jean even have a choice in this?” you asked quietly.

Charles turned his head away from you, “I don’t have to explain myself.” He said, before hovering his hands over Jean’s head, ending the conversation.

You let out a small huff and walked over to some of the monitors at the other end of the medbay.

---

You fixed the attachments on Jean’s chest, but before you could pull your hand away completely, she grabbed your wrist, making you gasp slightly. The headpiece floated off her head, hovering over the ground.

“Jean,” you said softly.

She blinked before turning her head over to you, “hey, Y/N.” Jean said quietly, you barely even heard her.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. More than okay,” she said, almost dreamlike. Her fingers lingered on your wrist, the contact grounding and unsettling all at once. She took off the diodes attached to her chest as you looked down at the tablet in your hands.

You stared at her, uncertain, the tablet still clutched in your hand. “Jean, maybe you should rest,” you suggested gently, your voice low and steady. “You’ve been through a lot.”

Her lips quirked into a faint smile—soft, almost playful, yet something about it felt… off. “I feel fine,” she replied, her tone silkier now. She sat up slowly, her movements fluid and unhurried, and the headpiece hovering near her floated to the side, settling on the counter without a sound. “Better than fine, actually.”

Jean adjusted her position, her legs on either side of yours, and you took a small step back, uneasy. Her hand slid down to yours, her fingers curling loosely around yours, grounding you in place.

"Jean, maybe I should call the Professor," you murmured, your voice steady despite the unease pooling in your stomach. “He’ll want to check on you.”

Her fingers tightened slightly around yours. “You don’t need to call him, Y/N,” she said softly, her tone soothing yet laced with something you couldn’t quite place. “I’m fine. I feel… better than fine.”

Her gaze was sharp, piercing, and for a brief moment, you felt like she was looking through you rather than at you. It made you shift on your feet, uncertain, your free hand clutching the tablet close to your chest.

“You’ve been through a lot,” you said carefully, trying to read her expression, though the faint, almost otherworldly smile she wore didn’t make it any easier. “Rest would be good. We just want to make sure you’re—”

“I know you’re worried about me,” she interrupted, her voice dipping lower. “You always are. You’ve always cared so much, Y/N.”

You blinked at her, the words striking a tender, vulnerable chord. “Of course I care, Jean,” you replied. “We’re friends. I just—”

“Friends,” she repeated, her smile widening slightly as her thumb brushed against your knuckles. “We are, aren’t we? Good friends…” Her tone lingered on the last word, almost teasing, and her gaze dropped to where her hand held yours.

The warmth of her touch seeped into your skin, steady and grounding, but her proximity—the way her body leaned into yours, her legs bracketing your stance—made the air in the room feel heavy, charged.

“Jean,” you said softly, “something feels off. Are you sure you’re—”

Before you could finish, she leaned forward, her free hand rising to cup the side of your face. The movement was fluid, almost too quick to process, and you froze, your breath catching as her thumb grazed your cheek.

“Y/N,” she murmured, her voice softer now, almost hypnotic. “You don’t have to be so careful around me. You’re always so careful, always holding back…”

Her words were gentle, but something about them tugged at a darker undercurrent, like a melody slightly out of tune. You shook your head, your pulse quickening. “Jean, I’m not holding back. I just think we should—”

She tilted her head, her fingers tracing the edge of your jaw with a featherlight touch. “I feel alive,” she said, almost to herself, her smile shifting into something more intense. “For the first time in… I don’t even know how long.” Her eyes locked onto yours, the green depths swirling with something unsteady, something you couldn’t name.

“You’ve always made me feel steady, Y/N,” she continued, her voice low, intimate. “Even when everything else feels out of control. Don’t you see how special that is? How special you are?”

Your heart raced, and you took another step back, trying to create space, but she didn’t let go. If anything, her hold on you seemed to tighten, her body leaning closer.

“Jean,” you tried again, your voice firmer now. “This isn’t like you. We should—”

“I don’t want to talk about what I should or shouldn’t do,” she said, her tone hardening slightly, the playful edge fading. “Not right now.”

And before you could react, her lips were on yours—soft, warm, and entirely unexpected. You froze, every thought scattering as her hand on your face anchored you in place.

It wasn’t a gentle kiss; it was full of urgency, need, and something deeper—something wilder. Her fingers curled into your hair, and she pulled you closer, the tablet in your hands slipping to the floor with a quiet thud.

Your instinct was to pull away, to say something, but the intensity of it—the sheer force of her presence—kept you rooted. Her lips moved against yours, her grip on you firm yet not forceful, and for a fleeting moment, the warmth of her touch and the closeness of her body overwhelmed every rational thought.

You could faintly hear the monitors around you buzzing and hissing as Jean moved to slip off the cardigan on your shoulders, only pulling it halfway down your arms before holding on to your shoulders and pulling you down onto the med table.

As you hovered over her, Jean’s legs moved up, hooking around your waist. The movement was deliberate, too fluid to feel natural, and the contact sent a shiver down your spine—not entirely out of discomfort, but because there was a weight behind it, a pull you couldn’t seem to resist.

Her hand slipped from your wrist to the back of your neck, her fingers threading gently through your hair as she guided you closer. The kiss deepened, her lips soft yet insistent, and a strange warmth spread through your chest. Your mind screamed at you to pull back, to say something, but your body refused to listen.

You could feel it—the way her presence wrapped around you like a magnetic field, leaving you caught in its orbit. Every brush of her lips, every tilt of her head felt intentional, purposeful, as though she was unraveling something inside you, piece by piece.

“Jean,” you murmured against her mouth, barely audible. You tried to move your hands to push yourself away, but instead, they landed on either side of her hips, as if they had a will of their own. “This isn’t…”

“This isn’t what?” she whispered back, her voice breathless yet commanding. Her lips ghosted along your jawline, trailing heat in their wake, and you couldn’t suppress the faint hitch in your breath. “Tell me what feels wrong, Y/N.”

Her tone wasn’t accusing or angry; it was low, almost coaxing, as though she was daring you to argue when every fiber of your being wanted to agree with her. That pull—that inexplicable force—felt like a tether, one you couldn’t cut even if you wanted to.

“This isn’t you,” you managed, your voice trembling. “Jean, please, we need to stop.”

She leaned back slightly, just enough to meet your gaze, and the intensity in her eyes made your stomach twist. Her green irises swirled faintly, like something untamed was stirring beneath the surface. “Why?” she asked softly, her fingers brushing against the side of your neck. “Why are you so afraid of this?”

“I’m not—” You paused, swallowing hard, trying to focus despite the fog clouding your thoughts. “I’m not afraid. I just… I care about you. And this—this isn’t fair to you.”

Her lips quirked into a small, almost sad smile, though the flicker of something darker behind her eyes didn’t waver. “You always care so much,” she murmured, her fingers tracing a slow path down to your collarbone. “That’s what makes you so… special.”

You finally found the strength to shift, moving off of her and standing by the bed. “Jean, I mean it,” you said, your voice steadier now. “This isn’t you.”

Jean reached out again, moving to grab your face, “yes. Yes, it is me.”

You grabbed her wrists, holding them to her chest, “no. Maybe you need to take it easy. The professor said you might be different.”

"He would know, wouldn’t he?" she said, her voice low and cutting. "What? You think he’s not in your head too? Look at you, Y/N. Always so careful, so measured—every step thought out, every word calculated. Is that really you?"

Her words hit like a jolt, and your pulse quickened as you tried to steady your breathing. You stayed silent, unable to come up with a response before settling on, “where’s Scott?” You let go of her wrists as she looked away, “Jean?”

Tears started to fill her eyes, “where am I?”

“You’re in the mansion.” You gently rested your hands on her shoulders, “you need to tell me what happened to Scott.” Jean couldn’t meet your eyes; they kept flickering around the room. “Jean, tell me what happened to him.” You reached over and grabbed Scott’s glasses from a nearby table, the ones Logan found at Alkali Lake.

Jean looked down at the glasses in your hand before her eyes widened, “oh, God,” she muttered. She closed her eyes as creaking sounded out around you. You looked over to one of the tables where screws were being unscrewed and then back at your hands where Scott’s glasses turned to dust.

The computers started to buzz louder as a few objects started to float. “Jean!” You grabbed the sides of her face hesitantly, “look at me.” The metal cabinet door opened, and objects started to fall out onto the floor. “Stay with me.” Your hand’s traveled to her shoulders again, “come on, look at me. Look at me.”

Jean’s eyes were closed, “no.”

“Jean. Jean! Focus.”

She finally opened her eyes, looking at you with a tearful, frightened expression, “kill me.”

“What?” You whispered in disbelief.

“Kill me before I kill someone else.” She cried, tears falling down her face.

“No, don’t say that- ”

“Please.”

“Stop.”

“Kill me.” Jean said again, as the tables shifted and rattled, and the glass on the cabinet’s shattered.

“Stop, look at me. Look at me, Jean. Everything will be okay. We can help you. The professor can help. He can fix it.”

Suddenly Jean’s eyes went pitch black as she hissed, “I don’t want to fix it!” With a telekinetic shove, she threw you against the wall, effectively knocking you out.

---

“Y/N?” Logan’s hand landed on your shoulders, waking you up.

Your glasses were askew on your face as he adjusted them. “Jean?” You sat up and looked around the med bay, only to find Ororo and Charles by the door, Logan still kneeling next to you.

“What happened?” Logan asked.

“What have you done?” Charles questioned, rolling a little closer.

You looked from Charles, to Ororo, then Logan. “I think she killed Scott.”

“What?” Ororo whispered, “that’s not possible.”

“I warned you.” Charles spoke again, before closing his eyes. “She’s left the mansion, but she’s trying to block my thoughts. She’s so strong. It may be too late.”

---

You hurried to catch up to Logan as he followed Ororo and Charles toward the garage, your steps quick but uncertain. “Logan, wait,” you called, adjusting your glasses as they slid down your nose.

He stopped, turning to look at you, his expression already tense. His gaze softened briefly when it landed on you, but his jaw tightened again almost immediately. “What is it, sweetheart?” he asked, his tone even but edged with something you couldn’t quite place.

“I’m coming with you,” you said firmly, surprising even yourself with the steadiness in your voice. You clasped your hands in front of you, gripping them tightly to stop them from trembling.

Logan’s brows furrowed, and he shook his head. “No, you’re not.”

You blinked, taken aback by his bluntness. “Why not? I can help. Jean is—she’s my friend, too. If something’s going on with her, I should be there.”

“It’s not safe,” he said, his voice low, almost a growl. He stepped closer to you, lowering his head so he could look you in the eyes. “This isn’t some training mission, Y/N. Jean’s not herself. You saw what she did back there—she threw you into a wall without even trying. I’m not letting that happen again.”

You tilted your chin up, refusing to back down. “I can handle myself,” you replied, though the words didn’t feel as convincing as you wanted them to.

Logan let out a sharp breath, running a hand through his hair. “Darlin’, you don’t need to prove anything. You’re not a fighter, and that’s okay. It doesn’t mean you’re not strong—it just means this isn’t the right place for you.”

His words stung more than they should have. He wasn’t saying it outright, but you couldn’t help but hear what wasn’t being said: Your powers aren’t enough. You’re not enough.

“I’ve been training,” you insisted, your voice quieter now. “I’ve been working with Ororo and… Scott—I’m not useless, Logan.”

“I never said you were,” he shot back, his tone softening slightly. He reached out, his hand brushing against your arm, but you stepped back, out of reach. His hand dropped to his side, and for a moment, his frustration flickered into something closer to regret.

“Then why won’t you let me come?” you asked, your voice wavering despite your efforts to keep it steady.

Logan hesitated, his gaze dropping to the ground for a moment before meeting yours again. “Because I can’t lose you,” he admitted, his voice rough but honest. “Not again.”

The weight of his words hit you like a punch to the chest. You stared at him, your lips parting slightly as you tried to process what he’d said. “What do you mean, ‘again’?” you asked quietly.

Logan’s jaw tightened, and he shook his head. “It doesn’t matter,” he said gruffly. “What matters is keeping you safe. And that means you’re staying here.”

You wanted to argue, to demand answers, but the look in his eyes stopped you. There was something there—something raw and vulnerable that you didn’t recognize.

“I can help,” you said softly, one last attempt.

Logan stepped closer, his hand cupping the side of your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “I know you can,” he said, his voice low and steady. “But not this time. Please, darlin’. Stay here. For me.”

You swallowed hard, your resolve crumbling under the weight of his plea. Finally, you nodded, your eyes stinging with unshed tears.

“Okay,” you whispered.

Logan leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Thank you,” he murmured against your skin before pulling back.

As he turned and followed Ororo to the garage, you stayed where you were, watching him go. The weight of his words lingered in your chest, heavy and suffocating.

Not again.

---

After the Professor’s funeral, you found yourself alone in the medbay, your hands mechanically picking up the remnants of the chaos Jean—or whatever she had become—had left behind. Broken glass crunched underfoot as you swept it into a dustpan, the sound sharp in the oppressive silence. You set the broom aside and started straightening the overturned tables and scattered supplies, doing your best to focus on the task and not the knot tightening in your chest.

But the quiet didn’t last.

At first, it was faint—barely a whisper—but it stopped you mid-motion.

“Y/N…”

Your name.

You froze, gripping the edge of the counter. The room was empty. You were sure of it.

“Y/N…”

This time, the voice was unmistakable. Jean’s voice, soft but disoriented, echoing in the corners of your mind.

“Where… where am I?”

Your breath hitched. “Jean?” you called out, turning in a slow circle, your voice trembling. “Jean, is that you?”

There was no response, but the air seemed heavier now, charged with something unseen. You swallowed hard and braced yourself against the counter, your knuckles turning white.

“Y/N…” Her voice came again, fainter this time, almost pleading.

“Jean, where are you?” you asked, louder this time. The room remained silent, her voice fading into the ether.

You pressed your palms to your temples, trying to steady yourself. It wasn’t just hearing her voice—it was the desperation in it, the confusion. Something wasn’t right, and the knot in your chest grew tighter.

---

You didn’t remember walking to Logan’s room, but here you were, standing in the doorway. Most of your things had already migrated here over the past several months—sweaters draped over his chair, books stacked on the nightstand next to his bed. Now, you moved on autopilot, grabbing a bag and hastily stuffing a few essentials inside.

“Y/N,” Logan’s gruff voice startled you, and you turned to see him standing in the doorway. His sharp gaze moved from you to the bag in your hands, and his brows furrowed. “What are you doing?” he asked, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.

“I need to go,” you said, your voice firmer than you felt. “Jean… she—she’s out there, Logan. I heard her.”

Logan’s expression darkened, and he shook his head. “No. You’re not going anywhere.”

You turned back to the bed, ignoring him as you zipped up the bag. “I can’t just stay here. She’s my friend—”

“And she’s dangerous,” Logan cut you off, his voice rising. He crossed the room in two quick strides, grabbing your bag and setting it down on the floor. “I told you to stay put.”

You clenched your fists, taking a step back. “You can’t just tell me what to do, Logan. I’m not some fragile thing that needs protecting. I can help—”

“Help?” Logan’s jaw clenched, and he ran a hand through his hair. “You don’t understand, Y/N. This isn’t some rescue mission. Jean’s not herself anymore—hell, I don’t even know if she’s still Jean.”

“She’s still in there,” you insisted, your voice cracking. “I know she is.”

Logan exhaled sharply, his shoulders tense. “Even if she is, it’s not safe for you to go out there. Not this time.”

“Why not?” you demanded, your frustration boiling over. “Why do you keep saying that like I’m some liability? Like I can’t—”

“Because I’ve lost you before!” he snapped, his voice breaking through the tension like a whip.

You froze, his words hanging heavy in the air between you.

“Again,” you repeated softly, your brow furrowing. “You’ve said that before. ‘Not again.’ What do you mean, Logan?”

Logan’s face hardened, and he took a step back, shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter,” he muttered.

“The hell it doesn’t!” you shot back, your voice trembling now. “Why won’t you just tell me what’s going on? Why are you acting like this?”

Logan looked at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, without a word, he turned away, grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair.

“I’ll go,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You’re staying here.”

“Logan—”

“No.” He turned back to you, his eyes fierce. “Stay here, Y/N. That’s final.”

You watched as he walked out, the door closing behind him with a soft click. The knot in your chest tightened until it felt like you couldn’t breathe.

You sank onto the edge of the bed, your head in your hands.

“Jean…” you whispered, her voice still echoing faintly in your mind.

---

You pulled your gloves onto your hands, flexing your fingers to adjust to the snug leather. The gesture felt mechanical, a distraction as your mind churned with everything that had happened—Jean’s voice in your head, Logan’s refusal to let you go, and the weight of everything unsaid between you two.

The sound of heavy footsteps behind you pulled you from your thoughts. You didn’t need to turn around to know it was Logan. He always moved with a certain weight, purposeful yet cautious, like he was constantly bracing himself for the next fight.

"Y/N," Logan’s voice was softer than you expected. When you turned, he was standing just inside the doorway, his gaze dropping briefly to your gloved hands before meeting your eyes. His expression was guarded, but there was something else there—hesitation? Guilt?

You didn’t say anything, waiting for him to break the silence.

He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “I owe you an apology.”

That wasn’t what you expected. You blinked, unsure how to respond, so you stayed quiet.

Logan stepped closer, his movements slower, more deliberate than usual. “For earlier,” he continued, his voice low but steady. “For not letting you come with us to find Jean. For not listening to you when you said she was still in your head.”

You swallowed hard, glancing down at your gloves as you flexed your fingers again. “You didn’t have to apologize,” you said softly, though the tension in your voice betrayed your feelings. “You were trying to protect me. I get that.”

Logan frowned, stepping even closer until he was just a few feet away. “No, darlin’, you don’t get it,” he said, his tone sharpening slightly. “You’re in my head all the time, Y/N. Every damn second. And when I saw what Jean did—when I saw that had you hit that wall—I couldn’t...” He trailed off, his jaw tightening as he looked away for a moment, like he was trying to keep himself in check.

“Couldn’t what?” you asked, your voice quieter now, hesitant but insistent.

His eyes met yours again, and this time, the rawness in his gaze made your chest ache. “I couldn’t risk it,” he admitted, his voice rough. “I couldn’t risk losing you.”

You took a shaky breath, the weight of his words settling over you. “I wasn’t asking you to risk me, Logan,” you said, your voice trembling slightly. “I was asking you to trust me. To believe that I could help. Jean’s my friend too, and I—” You paused, your throat tightening.

Logan’s face softened, and he reached out, his hands settling on your shoulders. His touch was firm but careful, grounding. “I know you’re strong, Y/N. Hell, you’re stronger than most people I’ve met. But this... This isn’t like anything we’ve faced before.”

You looked down, your gaze falling to the collar of his suit as you fought back the sting of tears. “You don’t think I can handle it,” you said, barely above a whisper.

“I didn’t say that,” Logan replied quickly, his thumbs brushing against your shoulders in a soothing motion. “I know you can handle more than I give you credit for. But that doesn’t mean I want you to.”

Your head snapped up at that, your brow furrowing. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I’ve already lost you five times,” Logan said, his voice cracking slightly on the last two words. “And I can’t—” He stopped, closing his eyes briefly before continuing. “I can’t go through it again, Y/N. Even if you don’t remember, I do. Every life, every time. And it always ends the same way—with me losing you.”

The room seemed to tilt around you as his words sank in. “What are you talking about?” you asked, your voice barely audible. “Logan, what do you mean, ‘every life’?”

Logan’s hands dropped from your shoulders, and he took a step back, running a hand over his face. “I can’t explain it,” he said gruffly. “Not now. Not here. Just... trust me when I say that keeping you safe is the only thing that matters to me.”

You opened your mouth to argue, to demand answers, but the look in his eyes stopped you. There was so much pain there, so much unspoken grief, that you didn’t know where to start.

Instead, you reached out, your gloved hand brushing against his. “Logan,” you said softly, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside you. “I’m not going anywhere.”

His lips twitched into a faint, fleeting smile, and he nodded, clasping your hand in his. “Good,” he murmured. “Because I don’t think I could take it if you did.”

For a moment, the two of you stood there in silence, the weight of everything unsaid hanging between you. Then Logan leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Come on,” he said quietly. “The team’s waiting.”

You nodded, swallowing hard, but didn’t move right away. Instead, you reached out, your hand finding his wrist, stopping him before he could step away.

“Wait,” you said softly, your voice barely audible over the sound of your heart pounding in your chest.

Logan turned back to you, his brow furrowing as he studied your face. “What is it, darlin’?” he asked, his tone gentle despite the tension in his stance.

Your fingers tightened slightly around his wrist, and you forced yourself to meet his gaze. “I need to tell you something before we go,” you admitted, the words sticking in your throat. “About what happened in the medbay. Before Jean threw me into the wall.”

Logan’s expression darkened instantly, his jaw clenching as he took a step closer. “What happened?” he asked, his voice dropping an octave, low and dangerous.

You hesitated, your stomach twisting as the memory surfaced—the way Jean’s voice had sounded in your head, warm and commanding, how her hands had felt on your face, her lips crashing against yours before you’d even realized what was happening.

“It wasn’t... voluntary,” you said finally, your voice trembling. “Jean—or whatever part of her that’s... different now—she got inside my head. Made me...” You trailed off, unable to finish the sentence, but the look in Logan’s eyes told you he already knew.

“Jesus,” he muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair as he started pacing. “She—she kissed you?”

You nodded, your arms wrapping around yourself as if to shield against the shame still lingering in the back of your mind. “I tried to stop her, Logan. I swear, I—”

“I know you did,” Logan interrupted, his tone softening as he stopped pacing and turned back to you. He crossed the small space between you in two strides, his hands coming up to gently cup your face. “I know, sweetheart. It wasn’t your fault.”

Tears stung your eyes, and you blinked quickly to keep them from falling. “I should’ve told you earlier,” you whispered, guilt gnawing at you. “I just didn’t know how. After everything, I didn’t want to make it worse.”

Logan shook his head, his thumbs brushing lightly against your cheeks. “You didn’t make anything worse,” he said firmly. “Jean’s not herself right now, Y/N. Whatever’s happening to her, it’s got nothing to do with you.”

You searched his face, the sincerity in his eyes grounding you in a way nothing else could. “I’m sorry,” you murmured again, your voice breaking.

“Don’t apologize,” Logan said, leaning down until his forehead rested against yours. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You hear me?”

You nodded, letting out a shaky breath. “Okay.”

For a moment, neither of you moved, the weight of his words wrapping around you like a lifeline. Then Logan pulled back just enough to press a kiss to your temple. “You ready?” he asked softly, his hands lingering on your shoulders.

“Yeah,” you said, your voice steadier now. “I’m ready.”

Logan gave you a small nod, his hand sliding down to take yours. His grip was warm and reassuring as he led you out of the room and down the hall toward the hangar.

---

“Jean!” Logan yelled, as the building behind him started to disintegrate. The military cars and its people floated in the air before turning into dust as well.

The water from the lake rose in the air, creating a wall around Alcatraz Island along with the debris.

Jean stood on top of metal, a makeshift platform, as Logan turned to face her, slowly walking towards her. “Jean!” A force knocked Logan back as his own body started to disintegrate, but his healing factor kept up with the dark force, keeping him together.

He grunted as he walked up the hill of metal and rock, and as he reached the top, the top of his suit was gone completely, his body almost glitching as the two forces fought against each other.

Logan finally made it up, now standing in front of Jean.

“You would die for them?” Jean hissed, her eyes pitch black.

Logan's voice was a low growl, each word deliberate and heavy. “No. Not for them.”

Jean’s darkened eyes narrowed, her expression unreadable as her hair billowed unnaturally in the chaos around her. The Phoenix force surged, tearing the air apart with its power, but Logan didn’t falter. His healing factor fought against the disintegration crawling over his body, knitting him back together even as the Phoenix sought to destroy him.

Jean stepped closer, her voice low and distorted, as though layered with something inhuman. “Then why, Logan? Why do you keep coming?”

Logan’s jaw clenched, his breathing heavy. He stared at her—not at the Phoenix, but at the woman he’d once trusted. “Because you’re my friend,” he rasped. “And because I’ve got no choice.”

For a moment, Jean seemed to waver, her expression flickering between the Phoenix’s cold rage and a glimmer of something softer—something human. But the Phoenix roared back with a vengeance, and her face twisted in fury.

"You should’ve stayed away!" she screamed, her voice reverberating in the air as a shockwave blasted out from her, throwing Logan to the ground. Metal debris rained down around him, but he pushed himself to his feet again, his claws extended as he advanced once more.

“Jean, you’re still in there!” Logan yelled over the chaos, his voice rough but desperate. “I know you are! Fight it!”

The Phoenix’s laughter was sharp and hollow. “Jean is gone,” she hissed. “You can’t save her.”

Before Logan could reply, her power flared again, and this time it consumed him completely. The flesh on his arms peeled away under the assault, only to regenerate in the next instant. He screamed in pain but kept moving forward, one step at a time, his determination unwavering.

---

From the safety of the Blackbird, your hands clutched the edge of the seat as you stared out at the destruction unfolding on Alcatraz Island. The others had joined the fight against the Brotherhood, but you’d been ordered—again—to stay behind on the jet by Ororo.

But this time, you hadn’t protested. Because something had stopped you.

A vision.

It wasn’t like the fleeting glimpses you sometimes caught when time slowed down around you. This was something else entirely, a full-blown, horrifying flash of what could be.

In your vision, Logan stood alone, facing Jean—or what she had become. The Phoenix wasn’t just fighting him; she was erasing him. You’d seen the way his body disintegrated over and over again, the agony etched into his face as he fought with every ounce of strength he had. You’d seen him fall.

You’d seen him die.

The image of his broken body burned in your mind, and your chest tightened with fear. Logan’s voice, raw and broken, echoed in your ears from the vision.

“No. Not for them.”

And then—nothing.

The vision had ended there, cutting off abruptly and leaving you gasping for breath. Your hands trembled as you pressed them against your temples, trying to ground yourself, but the weight of what you’d seen was suffocating.

“Logan…” you whispered to yourself, tears welling up in your eyes. The thought of losing him—of him sacrificing himself like that—was unbearable.

He can’t do this alone.

Your fingers tightened on the armrest as you wrestled with your next move. Jean was your friend, and Logan… Logan was everything. You couldn’t just sit here, watching from the sidelines, knowing what might happen.

You made your decision as you walked out of the Blackbird from on top of the building, scaling down the stairs behind the military men who were running away as the air shifted.

On the ground a flash of light caught your eye. You brushed dirt away to find a dagger, maybe something one the mutants or the military had dropped. You put it in your belt, the blade digging into your back.

Metal clinked as parts started to float in the air, screams and panicked yelling creating a symphony. Ororo stopped beside Logan. “I’m the only one who can stop her,” he said. “Get everyone to safety. Go!”

Ororo floated in the air, getting out of the way.

“Jean!” Logan yelled, as the building behind him started to disintegrate. The military cars and its people floated in the air before turning into dust as well.

The water from the lake rose in the air, creating a wall around Alcatraz Island along with the debris.

You swallowed harshly, running up behind him, “Logan!”

The sound of your voice cut through the chaos, making Logan’s head snap around. His eyes widened in shock, quickly narrowing with frustration as you came to a stop beside him. The storm of power surrounding Jean roared, debris spinning wildly in the air like a deadly vortex.

“What the hell are you still doing here?” Logan growled, grabbing your arm and pulling you closer to shield you from the debris. His eyes flicked over you, worry etched deep into his features.

You shook your head, trying to keep your voice steady despite the overwhelming fear clawing at your chest. “I couldn’t just sit there, Logan. I saw what’s going to happen—I felt it. You don’t understand—”

“I understand just fine,” he interrupted sharply, his voice rough with anger and something deeper. “This isn’t a fight you can win. You need to go. Now.”

“No,” you said firmly, stepping closer to him. “I’m not leaving you. Not this time.”

Logan’s jaw clenched, his eyes locking onto yours. “Darlin’, this isn’t about me. It’s about keeping you safe.” His voice softened slightly, the desperation clear. “Please. Don’t make me lose you again.”

Those words made your breath hitch, and for a moment, everything else faded away—the storm, the chaos, even the looming threat of Jean’s power. You stared up at him, your heart breaking at the raw emotion in his gaze.

“I love you,” you whispered, your voice trembling but resolute.

Before Logan could respond, you stood on your toes, cupping his face as you kissed him. It wasn’t a fleeting, desperate kiss—it was full of love, of everything you hadn’t said and everything you couldn’t. His arms tightened around you instinctively, pulling you closer, and for one brief, perfect moment, the world around you seemed to stop.

When you finally pulled back, your forehead rested against his as your fingers brushed his jaw. “I love you,” you repeated softly, your voice steady this time.

Logan’s hand slipped to your back, his fingers brushing against the hilt of the dagger tucked into your belt. His body tensed immediately, his eyes snapping open as realization dawned. “No,” he said, his voice breaking as he looked down at you. “No, don’t do this—”

“I’m sorry,” you murmured, tears slipping down your cheeks. “But it has to be me.”

“No!” Logan’s shout was raw, guttural, but before he could stop you, you stepped away from him, your powers flaring to life.

Time slowed to a crawl. The swirling debris froze mid-air, the deadly energy emanating from Jean suspended in place. Logan’s desperate reach toward you was halted, his anguished expression frozen in time as you turned and began climbing the jagged slope toward Jean.

The effort of holding time still burned through you like fire, but you pushed forward, each step feeling heavier than the last. Jean stood at the center of the chaos, her eyes pitch black, her power a violent storm around her.

“Jean,” you whispered as you approached, your voice shaking. “I know you’re still in there.”

For a moment, her expression shifted—confusion, recognition, something painfully human flickered in her gaze. But the Phoenix surged, her power straining against your hold, and Jean’s features twisted into fury.

“I’m so sorry, Jean.”

Her expression changed, briefly, as her voice broke and a single tear trailed down her cheek, “save me.”

“I’m sorry,” you said again, your voice breaking as you pulled the dagger from your belt.

The blade was heavy in your hands, but your resolve didn’t waver. You lunged forward, driving the blade into her chest, straight into her heart.

Jean gasped, her eyes wide as the Phoenix’s power flared one last time before collapsing inward. The black faded from her eyes as she gave you a relieved smile. One that made her seem at peace as her body went limp in your arms.

The strain of holding time still finally became too much. As reality snapped back into motion, the force of it knocked you off your feet. You collapsed beside Jean, the world spinning around you as exhaustion overtook you.

You heard Logan’s voice before anything else.

“Y/N!”

It was a roar, raw and desperate, cutting through the ringing in your ears and the chaos that still lingered around you. You tried to respond, to tell him you were okay, but your body wouldn’t cooperate. The effort of stopping time, of reaching Jean, had taken everything you had left.

Footsteps thundered across the broken ground, and then he was there. Logan dropped to his knees beside you, his hands immediately reaching for you, shaking you gently but urgently. “Sweetheart, no, no—open your eyes,” he pleaded, his voice cracking as his hands moved from your face to your shoulders, searching for signs of life.

Your body was limp in his arms, your chest still, your face losing color.

Logan’s breaths came in short, harsh gasps as he pulled you against him, cradling you like you might slip away entirely if he let go. “Y/N,” he whispered, the single word a broken prayer, an unbearable weight of grief choking him. His hands shook as they smoothed over your hair, as though trying to coax you back to him with touch alone.

He didn’t notice Ororo land nearby, didn’t register her sharp intake of breath as she took in the scene. Her hand came up to her mouth, her eyes wide with horror, but she didn’t approach. Behind her, Bobby and Kitty stood frozen, their expressions stricken, but they too stayed back. Even Peter, with his usual strength and calm, had no words.

Logan didn’t care that they were there. Didn’t care about anything except the motionless weight in his arms. He rocked you slightly, his forehead pressing against yours as his ragged breaths turned into choked sobs. “You weren’t supposed to—damn it, you weren’t supposed to do this,” he growled, his voice breaking as he fought against the tears burning in his eyes. “Not this time. Not again.”

Logan pressed his lips to your forehead, his hands shaking as they cupped your face. “Come on, darlin’,” he whispered, his voice soft and cracked. “You’re stronger than this. You’re too stubborn to leave me. Just—just come back.”

The others stood frozen, unable to move, unable to interrupt the devastating scene unfolding before them. Ororo’s hand clutched her chest, tears streaking down her face as she turned away, giving Logan what little privacy she could in this moment of unbearable pain.

But Logan didn’t notice. He couldn’t notice. His world had narrowed to you—the unbearable stillness of your body, the haunting silence that surrounded you now.

He didn’t let go, even as the destruction around them finally began to settle, the last vestiges of Jean’s power fading into nothingness. His arms tightened around you, his forehead pressing to yours again as he whispered brokenly, “I’m sorry. I couldn’t save you. I’m so damn sorry.”

Time seemed to stand still in the worst possible way. For the first time in his long, painful life, Logan felt completely and utterly powerless. The ring he’d carried for over a century burned like a brand against his chest, a cruel reminder of all the promises he’d never been able to keep.

Logan buried his face against your neck, his voice raw as he whispered, “I was gonna tell you. About the ring. About everything. You—you deserved to know.” His thumb brushed over your cheek, as if he could will the life back into you.

He pulled back, his tear-streaked face contorted in anguish as he gazed down at you. “I love you,” he said, his voice breaking on every syllable. “I’ve loved you through every lifetime, and I’ll love you in the next one, too. But please, sweetheart, don’t make me wait again. Not this time. Please.”

His hands trembled as he touched your cheek again, his thumb brushing over your skin like it might bring you back. “I love you,” he repeated, his voice hoarse. “I’ll always love you.”

But you didn’t move. Your chest didn’t rise. You were gone.

Logan’s breath hitched as he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead—one last desperate, lingering moment of tenderness. When he pulled back, his gaze swept over your still features, his expression caught somewhere between disbelief and devastation.

Behind him, Ororo, Bobby, Kitty, and Peter stood at a distance, their faces drawn with grief. None of them moved to intervene. They knew better than to intrude on this moment, on Logan’s anguish.

The air felt impossibly heavy as Logan shifted, gathering your lifeless form into his arms. His movements were slow, deliberate, as though handling something too precious to break further. He cradled you close, his head bowing as he let out a shuddering breath. The others watched as he rose to his feet, every muscle in his body screaming in protest, though he showed no sign of it.

“Logan…” Ororo began softly, stepping forward.

He didn’t acknowledge her. His eyes were locked on you, his focus unwavering. Without a word, he turned away, carrying you toward the bridge. There was no Blackbird to take them home—Jean’s power had obliterated it along with so much else—but Logan didn’t seem to care about the logistics. His only concern was you.

The others exchanged a glance, but no one stopped him. Slowly, they followed at a respectful distance, the weight of what had just transpired pressing heavily on them all.

.......um, sorry???

there are 2 more chapters left! an interlude and then 'days of future past'!

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Conspiratorialism as a material phenomenon

I'll be in TUCSON, AZ from November 8-10: I'm the GUEST OF HONOR at the TUSCON SCIENCE FICTION CONVENTION.

I think it behooves us to be a little skeptical of stories about AI driving people to believe wrong things and commit ugly actions. Not that I like the AI slop that is filling up our social media, but when we look at the ways that AI is harming us, slop is pretty low on the list.

The real AI harms come from the actual things that AI companies sell AI to do. There's the AI gun-detector gadgets that the credulous Mayor Eric Adams put in NYC subways, which led to 2,749 invasive searches and turned up zero guns:

https://www.cbsnews.com/newyork/news/nycs-subway-weapons-detector-pilot-program-ends/

Any time AI is used to predict crime – predictive policing, bail determinations, Child Protective Services red flags – they magnify the biases already present in these systems, and, even worse, they give this bias the veneer of scientific neutrality. This process is called "empiricism-washing," and you know you're experiencing it when you hear some variation on "it's just math, math can't be racist":

https://pluralistic.net/2020/06/23/cryptocidal-maniacs/#phrenology

When AI is used to replace customer service representatives, it systematically defrauds customers, while providing an "accountability sink" that allows the company to disclaim responsibility for the thefts:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/23/maximal-plausibility/#reverse-centaurs

When AI is used to perform high-velocity "decision support" that is supposed to inform a "human in the loop," it quickly overwhelms its human overseer, who takes on the role of "moral crumple zone," pressing the "OK" button as fast as they can. This is bad enough when the sacrificial victim is a human overseeing, say, proctoring software that accuses remote students of cheating on their tests:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/02/16/unauthorized-paper/#cheating-anticheat

But it's potentially lethal when the AI is a transcription engine that doctors have to use to feed notes to a data-hungry electronic health record system that is optimized to commit health insurance fraud by seeking out pretenses to "upcode" a patient's treatment. Those AIs are prone to inventing things the doctor never said, inserting them into the record that the doctor is supposed to review, but remember, the only reason the AI is there at all is that the doctor is being asked to do so much paperwork that they don't have time to treat their patients:

https://apnews.com/article/ai-artificial-intelligence-health-business-90020cdf5fa16c79ca2e5b6c4c9bbb14

My point is that "worrying about AI" is a zero-sum game. When we train our fire on the stuff that isn't important to the AI stock swindlers' business-plans (like creating AI slop), we should remember that the AI companies could halt all of that activity and not lose a dime in revenue. By contrast, when we focus on AI applications that do the most direct harm – policing, health, security, customer service – we also focus on the AI applications that make the most money and drive the most investment.

AI hasn't attracted hundreds of billions in investment capital because investors love AI slop. All the money pouring into the system – from investors, from customers, from easily gulled big-city mayors – is chasing things that AI is objectively very bad at and those things also cause much more harm than AI slop. If you want to be a good AI critic, you should devote the majority of your focus to these applications. Sure, they're not as visually arresting, but discrediting them is financially arresting, and that's what really matters.

All that said: AI slop is real, there is a lot of it, and just because it doesn't warrant priority over the stuff AI companies actually sell, it still has cultural significance and is worth considering.

AI slop has turned Facebook into an anaerobic lagoon of botshit, just the laziest, grossest engagement bait, much of it the product of rise-and-grind spammers who avidly consume get rich quick "courses" and then churn out a torrent of "shrimp Jesus" and fake chainsaw sculptures:

https://www.404media.co/email/1cdf7620-2e2f-4450-9cd9-e041f4f0c27f/

For poor engagement farmers in the global south chasing the fractional pennies that Facebook shells out for successful clickbait, the actual content of the slop is beside the point. These spammers aren't necessarily tuned into the psyche of the wealthy-world Facebook users who represent Meta's top monetization subjects. They're just trying everything and doubling down on anything that moves the needle, A/B splitting their way into weird, hyper-optimized, grotesque crap:

https://www.404media.co/facebook-is-being-overrun-with-stolen-ai-generated-images-that-people-think-are-real/

In other words, Facebook's AI spammers are laying out a banquet of arbitrary possibilities, like the letters on a Ouija board, and the Facebook users' clicks and engagement are a collective ideomotor response, moving the algorithm's planchette to the options that tug hardest at our collective delights (or, more often, disgusts).

So, rather than thinking of AI spammers as creating the ideological and aesthetic trends that drive millions of confused Facebook users into condemning, praising, and arguing about surreal botshit, it's more true to say that spammers are discovering these trends within their subjects' collective yearnings and terrors, and then refining them by exploring endlessly ramified variations in search of unsuspected niches.

(If you know anything about AI, this may remind you of something: a Generative Adversarial Network, in which one bot creates variations on a theme, and another bot ranks how closely the variations approach some ideal. In this case, the spammers are the generators and the Facebook users they evince reactions from are the discriminators)

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Generative_adversarial_network

I got to thinking about this today while reading User Mag, Taylor Lorenz's superb newsletter, and her reporting on a new AI slop trend, "My neighbor’s ridiculous reason for egging my car":

https://www.usermag.co/p/my-neighbors-ridiculous-reason-for

The "egging my car" slop consists of endless variations on a story in which the poster (generally a figure of sympathy, canonically a single mother of newborn twins) complains that her awful neighbor threw dozens of eggs at her car to punish her for parking in a way that blocked his elaborate Hallowe'en display. The text is accompanied by an AI-generated image showing a modest family car that has been absolutely plastered with broken eggs, dozens upon dozens of them.

According to Lorenz, variations on this slop are topping very large Facebook discussion forums totalling millions of users, like "Movie Character…,USA Story, Volleyball Women, Top Trends, Love Style, and God Bless." These posts link to SEO sites laden with programmatic advertising.

The funnel goes:

i. Create outrage and hence broad reach;

ii, A small percentage of those who see the post will click through to the SEO site;

iii. A small fraction of those users will click a low-quality ad;

iv. The ad will pay homeopathic sub-pennies to the spammer.

The revenue per user on this kind of scam is next to nothing, so it only works if it can get very broad reach, which is why the spam is so designed for engagement maximization. The more discussion a post generates, the more users Facebook recommends it to.

These are very effective engagement bait. Almost all AI slop gets some free engagement in the form of arguments between users who don't know they're commenting an AI scam and people hectoring them for falling for the scam. This is like the free square in the middle of a bingo card.

Beyond that, there's multivalent outrage: some users are furious about food wastage; others about the poor, victimized "mother" (some users are furious about both). Not only do users get to voice their fury at both of these imaginary sins, they can also argue with one another about whether, say, food wastage even matters when compared to the petty-minded aggression of the "perpetrator." These discussions also offer lots of opportunity for violent fantasies about the bad guy getting a comeuppance, offers to travel to the imaginary AI-generated suburb to dole out a beating, etc. All in all, the spammers behind this tedious fiction have really figured out how to rope in all kinds of users' attention.

Of course, the spammers don't get much from this. There isn't such a thing as an "attention economy." You can't use attention as a unit of account, a medium of exchange or a store of value. Attention – like everything else that you can't build an economy upon, such as cryptocurrency – must be converted to money before it has economic significance. Hence that tooth-achingly trite high-tech neologism, "monetization."

The monetization of attention is very poor, but AI is heavily subsidized or even free (for now), so the largest venture capital and private equity funds in the world are spending billions in public pension money and rich peoples' savings into CO2 plumes, GPUs, and botshit so that a bunch of hustle-culture weirdos in the Pacific Rim can make a few dollars by tricking people into clicking through engagement bait slop – twice.

The slop isn't the point of this, but the slop does have the useful function of making the collective ideomotor response visible and thus providing a peek into our hopes and fears. What does the "egging my car" slop say about the things that we're thinking about?

Lorenz cites Jamie Cohen, a media scholar at CUNY Queens, who points out that subtext of this slop is "fear and distrust in people about their neighbors." Cohen predicts that "the next trend, is going to be stranger and more violent.”

This feels right to me. The corollary of mistrusting your neighbors, of course, is trusting only yourself and your family. Or, as Margaret Thatcher liked to say, "There is no such thing as society. There are individual men and women and there are families."

We are living in the tail end of a 40 year experiment in structuring our world as though "there is no such thing as society." We've gutted our welfare net, shut down or privatized public services, all but abolished solidaristic institutions like unions.

This isn't mere aesthetics: an atomized society is far more hospitable to extreme wealth inequality than one in which we are all in it together. When your power comes from being a "wise consumer" who "votes with your wallet," then all you can do about the climate emergency is buy a different kind of car – you can't build the public transit system that will make cars obsolete.

When you "vote with your wallet" all you can do about animal cruelty and habitat loss is eat less meat. When you "vote with your wallet" all you can do about high drug prices is "shop around for a bargain." When you vote with your wallet, all you can do when your bank forecloses on your home is "choose your next lender more carefully."

Most importantly, when you vote with your wallet, you cast a ballot in an election that the people with the thickest wallets always win. No wonder those people have spent so long teaching us that we can't trust our neighbors, that there is no such thing as society, that we can't have nice things. That there is no alternative.

The commercial surveillance industry really wants you to believe that they're good at convincing people of things, because that's a good way to sell advertising. But claims of mind-control are pretty goddamned improbable – everyone who ever claimed to have managed the trick was lying, from Rasputin to MK-ULTRA:

https://pluralistic.net/HowToDestroySurveillanceCapitalism

Rather than seeing these platforms as convincing people of things, we should understand them as discovering and reinforcing the ideology that people have been driven to by material conditions. Platforms like Facebook show us to one another, let us form groups that can imperfectly fill in for the solidarity we're desperate for after 40 years of "no such thing as society."

The most interesting thing about "egging my car" slop is that it reveals that so many of us are convinced of two contradictory things: first, that everyone else is a monster who will turn on you for the pettiest of reasons; and second, that we're all the kind of people who would stick up for the victims of those monsters.

Tor Books as just published two new, free LITTLE BROTHER stories: VIGILANT, about creepy surveillance in distance education; and SPILL, about oil pipelines and indigenous landback.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/29/hobbesian-slop/#cui-bono

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en