#and I told her that given how I was feeling I really did not think I would be

[cherrylibby]

Unspoken Words

The Hard Deck was alive with the usual chaos—a mix of laughter, the low hum of conversation, and the occasional clink of billiard balls. But Jake couldn’t focus on any of it. His eyes were locked on you, sitting at the bar with a drink in hand, seemingly lost in thought.

He sighed as Bradley’s voice buzzed in his ear, growing more frustrated by Jake’s lack of attention.

"I’m listening," Jake lied smoothly, his gaze darting back to you, his smirk deepening when he caught you stealing a glance his way.

Bradley groaned. "No, you’re not. You’re staring at her again."

Jake ignored him, already halfway to standing as he grabbed his beer and started toward you.

You noticed him immediately, and a wave of annoyance washed over you. "Great," you muttered under your breath, pretending not to see him as he slid up beside you.

"Hey, sweetheart," Jake greeted casually, leaning one elbow on the bar as he turned his full attention to you.

"What do you want, Jake?" you sighed, barely sparing him a glance.

"Ouch." He chuckled, placing a hand over his chest in mock offense. "Not even a hello? You’re killing me here."

"Hello," you said flatly, turning back to your drink. "Goodbye."

Jake chuckled, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—something he quickly masked with his usual charm. "You know, you don’t have to play hard to get. I already know you like me."

You turned to him, an incredulous laugh escaping you. "Excuse me?"

He smirked. "Oh, come on. Don’t act like you don’t. I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I’m not paying attention."

"Wow," you deadpanned. "The ego on you is truly something to behold."

Jake laughed, but the sound was softer this time, almost vulnerable. "You say that, but you’re still talking to me."

You rolled your eyes, setting your drink down with a little more force than necessary. "Only because you won’t leave me alone."

He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a more serious tone. "What if I told you there’s a reason for that?"

"Let me guess," you said, crossing your arms. "Because you think you’re irresistible and I’m just another name on your list of conquests?"

Jake’s smirk faltered, and for a moment, something raw flashed across his face. "You really think that’s all you are to me?" he asked, his voice quieter now.

"Isn’t it?" you shot back. "You flirt with everyone, Jake. Why would I be any different?"

"Because you are different!" he snapped, surprising you with the sudden intensity in his tone. "God, do you have any idea what you do to me? I can’t even sit in a room with you without losing my damn mind."

You stared at him, momentarily stunned by his outburst. "Jake, I…"

"No, let me finish," he interrupted, stepping closer. "I flirt because it’s easy. Because it keeps things light and stops me from getting in too deep. But with you… it’s not easy. It’s terrifying."

"Why?" you asked, your voice softer now.

"Because you matter," he admitted, his voice breaking slightly. "Because you’re the first person who’s ever made me feel like this, and I don’t know what to do with it."

"Jake…" you started, but he wasn’t done.

"I know I’ve screwed up," he continued, his eyes searching yours. "I know I’ve given you every reason to think I don’t care. But I do. More than I can put into words. And yeah, maybe I flirt too much, and maybe I’m an idiot, but I’m your idiot if you’ll have me."

Your heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice, but your walls were still up. "And what about the brunette? Or the one before her? How do I know this isn’t just another game to you?"

Jake exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "They didn’t mean anything. None of them did. I was just… trying to distract myself. From you. From how much I want you and how scared I am of messing this up."

"You’re scared?" you asked, a hint of disbelief in your tone.

"Terrified," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Because you’re not like anyone else. You see through all my bullshit, and you still manage to get under my skin. And the thought of losing you before I even have you? It kills me."

The air between you felt heavy, charged with unspoken tension. Jake stepped closer, his hands hesitating before settling on your hips. "I’m not asking you to trust me right away," he said quietly. "But I’m asking for a chance. A real one. Let me prove to you that I’m serious."

You looked into his eyes, seeing nothing but sincerity. "Jake…"

"Please," he whispered, his voice cracking slightly. "Say something before I embarrass myself even more."

You took a deep breath, your resolve wavering. "You're such an idiot," you whispered, your voice barely audible. Before you could second-guess yourself, you leaned in, pressing your lips to his.

Jake's hands found their way to your waist, gripping gently at first, then with more certainty as he kissed you back with fervor.

His lips moved against yours with an intensity that made your heart race. When he finally pulled away, both of you were left breathless, your foreheads resting against each other.

Jake cupped your face in his hands, his touch gentle but grounding. His soft laugh broke the silence, warm and relieved. "Yeah," he murmured, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "But I'm your idiot."

For the first time, you didn’t correct him.

[howtodrawyourdragon]

Does Berk think Hiccup is frivolous in Httyd 1? Maybe a little bit aloof?

Stoick tells him to stop joking around in the opening scene of the movie, after the dagons have left. "This isn't a joke, Hiccup!" He tells him. And he tells him that after his rant about how he has things to worry about, like making sure the village doesn't starve in the coming winter, Hiccup answers to with a sassy "the village could do with a little less feeding, don't you think?" Which really only manages to make Stoick even more mad.

After their first lesson in dragon training, Gobber asks the class "where did Hiccup go wrong?" and Astrid's response is "he's never where he should be." I think she means it literally. Why is Hiccup, of all people, in dragon training? Ruffnut and Tuffnut make sense. Snotlout makes sense. Even Fishlegs makes sense. (especially since Fishlegs has already shown effort by memorizing the Book of Dragons, effort Astrid clearly approves of given her shock at the twins and Snotlout disregarding Gobber's order to read the book.)

But Hiccup? Hiccup McSassyPants? Who gets told that his village could starve in the winter and answers with "well maybe they should eat less"? Who steps outside during a raid and actually causes more damage than the dragons pretending he's capturing a Night Fury? What is he doing in dragon training? That class literally ended with Hiccup almost losing his life to a Gronckle.

This is further backed up when after she has to protect both herself and Hiccup from a Deadly Nadder, which happened because Hiccup wasn't paying attention the whole time, getting them both in trouble. (Which is because he's fixating on figuring out a certain Night Fury, but they don't know that. To them, it just looks like he's annoying Gobber with meaningless questions. Why are you asking about the Night Fury? The one dragon who's single instruction is "hide and pray it doesn't find you"?) She explicitly asks him "Is this some kind of a joke to you?"

Followed up by "Our parent's war is about to become ours. Figure out which side you're on."

Once again someone questions Hiccup about how serious he takes things. But it's more than that, she's trying to give him a wake up call! Wake up, Hiccup, our parents are actually fighting a genuine war here and someday it'll be your turn! Stop making everything a joke before you get yourself or someone else killed!

Astrid actually isn't as much against Hiccup at this point as people often believe. There are actually a few points in which she eithers feels sorry for him or tries to help him in her own Astrid-y way. (And if the deleted scene hadn't been deleted, there would've been an almost friendly conversation had between the two before dragon training even starts)

Let's also not forget Hiccup's and Stoick's talk before dragon training even starts. When Stoick shows some actual vulnerability by laying his son's life in his son's and Gobber's hands when he decides to give in and let Hiccup go to dragon training while he's off on a voyage.

Hiccup tells his father "I don't wanna fight dragons!" in a tone that is rather pleading. To which is father chuckles and says to him "come on, yes you do!"

Remember in the opening, Hiccup practically makes the claim that he lives and breathes to kill dragon, it's "who he is." And now he suddenly claims he doesn't want to fight dragons at all? Can't fight them?

Stoick keeps his tone light, telling his son that he will fight dragons, don't you worry about that, Hiccup. With Hiccup doubling down that he's very extra-sure that he can't fight dragons, which makes Stoick double down in return, his levity disappearing.

"Can you not hear me?" Hiccup asks, desperate to be heard.

"This is serious, son!" Says Stoick. Which makes this three times that Hiccup is explicitly told to take something serious. (And you can just see the disbelieve or realization in Hiccup's eyes as he's once again not being listened to.)

(Followed by Stoick telling him to act like everyone else and to stop being Hiccup, which gets him, you guessed it, a sarcastic remark from Hiccup.)

We know that Hiccup changed his mind about participating in dragon training because he found out he couldn't kill Toothless. (or rather, he can't kill the scared and the defenseless, as the Red Death would later show) But Stoick doesn't know that. Berk actually seems to know very little about Hiccup and that's why they think that he's joking around at all times.

I'm willing to bet that the "disasters" he causes "every time he steps outside" aren't much of a help either. (and I wonder how many of these are actually Hiccup's fault or if Hiccup happened to be involved, so the blame is just automatically put on him.)

And this isn't a post to bash Hiccup. I love him to death, I love his sass as much as any other fan. And I am very much of the opinion that Hiccup's sass is a defense mechanism.

His feelings get hurt, so he tries to hurt someone else's back. Like when he probably feels guilty about his father worrying about the village getting through the winter, so he makes that comment about how the village could eat less to offset that guilt. (Which again, only makes Stoick angrier.) And I think the proof is in the rest of the franchise.

Hiccup sasses the most when he's 15-16, a.k.a from Httyd 1 to DoB. But by the time we see him again in RttE (chronologically) he sasses a little less and in a friendlier and more playful context, but he has also matured to deal with his negative feelings differently. RttE is, chronologically, when Stoick actually begins to consider if his son is ready to be chief. He can see how much Hiccup has matured, especially when there's such physicaly distance between them. It's the equivalent of not seeing someone over summer break or watching someone go traveling and see how much they've changed when you reunite with them.

(also, he can knock Snotlout unconscious with a single punch, I bet that helps as well.)

But it is the way Hiccup chooses to defend himself, giving sassy comments (think "Thanks, I was trying!" to Snotlout's comment about the mess he made) to either painful comments about him or actual serious statements like the ones Stoick makes that still gets him in the feels that make him seem so shallow and unserious in the eyes of Berk.

Then there is his apparent history of crying wolf. When he actually does manage to shoot down a Night Fury, his father doesn't believe him and Hiccup explicitly says "this isn't like the last few times, I mean I really actually hit it! It went down!"

When you combine all of this, you get a teenager who doesn't appear to take anybody serious, including the lives of himself and others. Terrible traits to have as a person, let alone when you're the chief's son.

Somehow, a narrative of frivolity and aloofness was build around Hiccup that he just could not escape no matter how much he tried to crawl out of it. At some point, Berk put him in a box, marked it "jokester" and Hiccup's efforts to get out of that box only grew and grew. When his efforts failed, whenever he sassed back, Berk just pushed him even deeper into that box. Not looking further into what Hiccup actually needed or was trying to say.

Do I think Berk was right? Not at all, because this is all surface-level, things Hiccup legitimately says and does to protect himself and nobody realizes this.

Toothless doesn't speak a single word to him during the Forbidden Friendship scene, yet he can get across exactly what he expects from Hiccup (mainly "keep your distance, I don't trust you enough") without being mean about it. He doesn't snap, he doesn't bare his teeth. He just gives him faces that Hiccup understands. Only growling or hissing when Hiccup passes a boundary Toothless very clearly isn't comfortable with. (or, let's say, when his feelings are hurt, like when Hiccup steps on toothless' first drawing.)

And it's because he's not mean about it that he actually makes more progress with Hiccup in half a day than Berk does his entire 15 years.

And that's sad. That's what this post is about. About how sad it is that Berk takes Hiccup at a very shallow level and decides that must be his entire self as a person.

[everythingspokenfor]

Part 4

─ ・┈ ・ ── ・┈ ・ ── ・┈ ・ ─

No conclusion was drawn that day, Bakugou couldn't answer your question, you didn't bother questioning him further, the day continued in silence, he helped you organise things a bit more before leaving in the evening.

You didn't like being alone with your thoughts, especially ones that were regarding your unrequited love for Bakugou. On one hand you wished that he loved you back, that he could see how you were always there for him, on the other hand, your rationalized that he wasn't obligated to love you back, and that you should move on.

Life did continue as usual, your leave from agency was finished and you returned back to work. Mostly you avoided Bakugou, but with your work overlapping it was difficult at times. Unintentionally you ended avoiding your friends too, Kirishima had tried talking to you, he was the only one aware of your feelings, apart from that you hadn't really talked to anyone.

"I thought he'd be angrier than usual."

"Yeah, considering his break up, I thought someone would be fired."

"Still I am not crossing paths with Dynamight."

"What??" You blurted, not really ashamed that you were eavesdropping, the two employees looked at you shocked, before one of them uttered,"We were just discussing Dynamight's break-up."

"Sorry what?? When did that happen?" You questioned suddenly feeling guilty over something that may have been your fault unintentionally.

"Few days ago, I think."

"Okay, thanks. Also don't go around discussing your boss!" You abruptly left the hallway, swiftly moving towards the elevator.

Thousands questions arose in your mind, internally questioning why the break up may have happened.

You slammed the office door open, causing Bakugou to look towards the noise, and let out a breath upon seeing your figure.

"Finally you want to talk.", He crossed his arms and leaned against the table.

"Why did you break up with her?"

"I didn't." He admits, hand running through his hairs. Before you could question him, he spoke again,"She broke up with me."

"Why?"

"Why does it matter?" Bakugou scoffed, sharp eyes glaring at you.

"Because you were in love with her, Asshole, and you don't just let go of things you love." You yelled, hands coming up to rub your forehead, impending headache starting to settle.

"I let you go, tho." He walked over to you, noticing the slight widening of your eyes before you steeled your expression. "That was a mistake. But still I let you slip away."

"Don't speak bullshit, Bakugou." You grit out,"This isn't a fucking joke."

"She broke up with me, said you should date someone that doesn't fucking drain you." He said,"told me that I was happy when you were there." He moved to hold your hands,"I fucked up by not figuring out my feelings, dated someone because they reminded me of you." His voice broke, ruby eyes filled with tears as he lamented.

"Didn't apologise when I was given a chance, I love you, so, so much, and I wish everyday that I figured that out sooner" He whispered, head resting on your shoulder," I don't know if I deserve it, but I need you to give me another chance, let me love you right."

You let out a breath, chest suddenly aching more, the confession you always wanted, now suddenly making you bitter.

"I suffered for months, Suki." You sobbed, hands coming to first against his chest, trying to push him away, but Bakugou held your wrists, pulling you into his arms.

"You don't get to have me, Katsuki." You try to pull away from him, afraid that any second more and you'll start crying.

"Please, let me love you right, swear on my life I won't fuck up." He uttered, desperation evident in his voice, his grip loosened on your wrist, allowing you to make the decision.

Whether to stay or pull away. You chose to stay, collapsing against Bakugou's chest, sobbing in his arms. His arms encircled you, holding you tight, one hand rubbing the back of your head.

"I'll be good, this time I'll be good." He muttered, before pressing his lips against your forehead.

"This doesn't mean all that pain went away, Suki." You mumbled, cheeks smushed against his chest, you looked you at him eyes tired, nose and cheeks red from crying.

"I'll fix it, all of it." He affirmed, nothing was going to get in his way of fixing his mess up, he would prove to be worthy of your love till his last breath.

"Also either you are moving back with me or I am moving in with you." He stated with confidence, ready to settle in with you.

─ ・┈ ・ ── ・┈ ・ ── ・┈ ・ ─

[thebaldursmouthgazette]

I'm curious to know your thoughts on the chess symbolism. I personally really like the Solas/chess game analogy they have going on and with Rook representing a major power piece. Unfortunately I'm also seeing takes saying that Lavellan represents the queen, not the inquisitor, Lavellan specifically, and I kind of wonder what grounds they have to think that. I think it's pretty apparent that every inquisitor is a pawn. Not even just for Solas. Arguably you could say the inquisitor, whether they know it or not, is always working in someone else's interests and to someone else's benefit. They have no power to reject the title of "Herald of Andraste" and whether it's Solas, or the chantry, someone is always trying to maneuver them. Add that there are spies in the ranks and it's clear the Inquisitor's control of the board was tenuous at best and at worst an illusion. A romanced Lavellan isn't an exception to that, at no point in inquisition or Trespasser did I ever feel like the Inquisitor was a powerful character given how compromised their agency is for the entire game. I feel like Solas only even told them about his own spies infiltrating the inquisition because he had no use for the inquisitor or the inquisition from a strategic standpoint any longer and didn't care what became of it from that point on. .

I honestly don’t think the chess metaphor is as deep as people are trying to make it. I think it’s just that Solas sees the world in the same way as a chess board, and all the people he interacts with are chess pieces to use and sacrifice as needed. It doesn’t particularly matter who is what piece, they all may as well be pawns. And in this chess game, solas is not a piece, he’s the player.

But the point is that’s all bullshit. This isn’t a chess game, these are all real people. Rook may be called rook, but that’s just a nickname. They are not a tool to be used and discarded. Solas isn’t the mastermind chess player moving his pieces. He’s a callous asshole and kinda dumb to boot.

I’m not surprised That Specific brand of Solavellans are trying to cast lavellan as Solas’ queen. They’re also trying to cast her as andraste to Solas being the maker (a nauseating take which is also the most boring direction you could take the lore), or as the two members of the new elven pantheon (also nauseating, and a complete misunderstanding of the games themes. None of these people are gods, they’re just assholes high on power).

But it’s also funny because even if she IS the queen in the chess analogy, that still makes her a piece to be used. When you play chess you don’t feel a particular attachment to the queen piece. Shes not your wife. She’s a chess piece that you use the same as any other. And, in fact, in the chess banter with iron bull in inquisition, solas sacrifices his queen. Being the queen chess piece would not make lavellan special. She’s still a tool to be used and discarded as needed.

The point is that Solas thinks he’s this mastermind playing 4d chess, putting pieces in the right place, making the sacrifices necessary to win. But actually he’s just a really fucking annoying asshole who sees everyone in his life as tools to be used for his own personal game. There is no chess game. He is not the master player. There’s just a bunch of people, with lives of their own, who are not his to be used as he pleases. Rook’s nickname is after the bird.

[chirpingfromthebox]

The Fleet's Post-game Press Session from 1/5/2025 - BOS vs. MTL at Seattle

The Boston Fleet's post-game press session from after their Takeover Tour game against the Montréal Victoire in Seattle.

At the table were head coach Courtney Kessel, and forwards Susanna Tapani and Hannah Bilka.

A transcription is under the break.

[To keep it on par with the other side I did a marginally looser transcription on this one as well. Basically just cut out some of the stutters and filler words/phrases that you always get in these sorts of interviews as people try to phrase an idea on the spot. I usually keep them in for accuracy, even though they make the text a little muddier, but they do slow things down as they are trickier to get down properly.

Although there were definitely still some reporter bits that I couldn't quite make out.]

[Video seems to begin after a question was asked, as even though the players are still appearing to be getting situated at the desk the video begins with Courtney Kessel speaking.]

COURTNEY KESSEL:

I think just an unbelievable experience. Our players have got to do some fun things yesterday and the day before that. And it’s just really nice to come out with a win. A good hard-fought game and I think we really earned those points today.

Reporter:

Coach, what do you think the turning point of this game was? Obviously that second period was a lot of special teams play. What did you see from your group to pretty much stay with it and not get down going down a couple goals early?

COURTNEY KESSEL:

I think our ability to sustain offense from line to line to line and to continue that was a huge difference for us to continue with the momentum. And then finding ways to get pucks in was one of our biggest things too.

Reporter:

For both players, and similarly to what coach was just talking about, what were some of the conversations or things you were doing on the bench to really turn that tide in that second frame?

HNNAH BILKA:

I think just staying with it. Not getting discouraged with what the score is. I feel like we have a very calm group and kind of a steady vibe to our bench. Just that internal confidence that we know that we’re gonna come back.

Reporter:

And Susanna, for you, especially thinking about that shootout goal, is that something you know where you were going to go with it? Do you just kind of take what’s given?

SUSANNA TAPANI:

That’s actually a long time that I’ve scored that goal, but it’s something that I’ve done in the past for sure. I waited a little too long maybe, but- [chuckles] I’m glad that it went in.

Reporter:

So this game is kicking off the Takeover Tour for the PWHL and I believe that you all have 2 more games left that are going to be in these different neutral sites. How are you approaching this tour? In terms of going to different cities that don’t currently have teams, but have people that want to come see you, and those kinds of things?

COURTNEY KESSEL:

It’s an exciting time for our game and I think you see the growth just continue to grow every single day and we had an amazing audience here today. Hopefully moving forward we can continue to grow this. But if you think about where we were one year ago from today, who would have thought that we could expand so soon. Right? Just reach out to all these young girls and so I think just continue to grow it each and every day. That’s really what these players do.

Reporter:

Two questions please. First, for both of the players, can you tell me about Jessica Campbell coming into the room before the game? Whether you had a chance to talk to her individually, what her message to you before the game, what it meant to you?

SUSANNA TAPANI:

I think it was a big moment for all of us. The work she has done here and we saw on the ice how big she is in this city. Yeah, it was awesome. Awesome moment that she came into the locker room and told us that we should be proud, all of us, for what we have done here.

HANNAH BILKA:

Yeah, it was really cool. I feel like I’ve been following her for awhile and she’s just paved the way for women’s hockey. To be an assistant coach in the NHL, that’s a huge deal. So it was so cool getting to be able to hear her talk and be at the game here today.

Reporter:

And coach, can you speak a little bit about yesterday’s clinics and the autograph signings and the whole vibe? And how did what you experienced in Seattle compare to what you experience in the 6 PWHL cities?

COURTNEY KESSEL:

I think one of our core values as a team is to impact the community. And I think when you come into a place that doesn’t have a team just yet in the PWHL, it’s great to get out and to reach out to those little girls. They were at our practice cheering for us, so I think that’s a great environment for practice. And then to be able to get on the ice with a few of them, the players got out to throw the fish and kind of experience the city a little bit. So it’s really great to get out into the community and express our love for the game and give back a little bit.

Reporter:

I was wondering, before the final [???] changed the tone of things a little bit, do you think your team deserved a little better than it had going for it?

COURTNEY KESSEL:

Yeah, you know, heading down the stretch here, we’ve been on a little bit of a long road trip looking for a puck to kind of find the back of the net for us and see the light at the end of the tunnel. So it was really nice to see that go in. I think the biggest key is just to stick to our gameplan. We played a great 60 minutes. When we went into the first period- or the first intermission down two, I don’t think it was an indicator of how we were playing and I love to see us battle back.

Reporter:

Down two goals you still had some pretty stellar goalkeeping behind you. Knowing you were going to have to take some risks do some [???] what does the level of goalkeeping you have behind you allow you to do in situation like that? Knowing that you do have that kind of an anchor.

HANNAH BILKA:

I think it just gives us so much confidence as group. We know she’s gonna come up with a big save and really keep us in the game. So she’s our anchor back there. Yeah, just can’t say enough great things about how good of a goaltender she is.

Reporter:

Kind of keeping the theme here, it was a pretty marquee metric for the goaltenders in this one in general. Players, coach, can you just speak to what you saw out of [Ann-Renée] Desbiens in this one? Obviously she had a good game going on before you guys let things kind of [???].

COURTNEY KESSEL:

I think across the league we have tremendous goaltending and that’s probably why the scores of the games are always kept pretty low. But two tremendous goaltenders going head-to-head in the great city of Seattle, with a great fan base; I think we gave them a game that everyone wanted. Some physicality and brought us all the way into a shootout, so it’s exciting. But I think when you have the top 10 goaltenders in the world you’re gonna see great goaltending every single night.

Reporter:

And then I’d just like to ask, you kind of touched on it a little bit there coach, but what do you hope the fans who were at attendance today and were able to see you at practices yesterday, take away from this one? Obviously when the Jocks In Jills podcast mentioned expansion to the city it was pretty loud. It looks like that’s what people want here.

COURTNEY KESSEL:

Yeah, a very warm welcome from Seattle and I think our players enjoyed it. I want them to see our game and how amazing it is and how amazing these players are and how hard they work. And, you know, the game is fast, it’s physical, and we’re just at the beginning of where we want this league to take off to.

[End of video.]

[sysig]

Go play pretend on your own (Patreon)

[paldogangsaan]

lowkey the writers insisting on intertwining alicent and rhaenyra + hotd 'being a story abt them' is probably like,,, the source of over half their problems

[girlivealwaysbean]

sometimes my bestfriend is like an angel in disguise istg

[helenofblackthorns]

ooo to add onto this, I feel like this whole situation become so so much more interesting & complex when you read it with the knowledge gained from the infernal devices. because by the time city of heavenly fire is published, it's very very clear that Jace is Tessa's descendant; the family tree literally spells it out for you. TID's main plot is all tied up in Tessa's weird ancestry, ultimately being revealed that she is the daughter of an unblessed Shadowhunter & the greatest of all Eidolon demon and by being her descendant, Jace is their descendant too. the mortal instruments works best when you're aware of the irony that Jace really did have demon blood all along, and that was intentional fairly early on (Tessa first appears in at the end City of Glass and is clearly there talking to Magnus bc one of her descendants just appeared out of thin air lol).

I definitely have my critiques with how Jonathan & his demon blood was handled at times but also CC does hint towards the flaws of how the characters view Jonathan & I know I forget that sometimes lol. like the second half of tmi, where we see the most of Jonathan, was directly juxtaposed with the infernal devices when it was being published. there's an obvious parallel between Tessa and Jonathan, as they're both the product of child experimentation combining angel and demon blood in order to create a new species of people, but Tessa very decidedly not evil because she wasn't raised by a egotistical manipulator who wanted her to be. multiple times are we showed both Jocelyn and Valentine having biases about Jonathan that aren't actually found on anything, although with Valentine these tend to come from extra content (theres a mini comic & Jonathan's "fun fact" in the flower book comes to mind too). I do wish there was a little more within the actual series tho tbh.

as for Jace reclaiming the name Herondale, I think it's just that. Valentine raised him to be anyone, and thus no one, a changeling (Tessa parallel??). his name wasn't given to him, but someone else, and he grew up living someone else life. as far as anyone was concerned, Valentine especially, there was no baby Herondale. To me, by choosing the name Herondale, Jace defies Valentine and all his plans by reaffirming he was someone before he tried to erase him. Valentine told him who he was, who he should be by constantly robbing Jace of what he had, and the very first thing he took was Stephen and Celine, and their parents (directly or indirectly). Jace can't hate them or love them, because he never knew them. and if the Herondales die without him, then it just another thing Valentine stole from him.

like idk to me, it's less about whether or not Jace had a relationship with Stephen (or any Herondale) that justifies him continuing on the family name, because he doesn't. but by being a Herondale, he survives Valentine and everything he did. everything Valentine did was meaningless in the end — he didn't need to do it! circling back to Tessa, if Valentine wanted a shadowhunter with demon blood that badly, he had one standing right next to him willing to do whatever he wanted! nobody asked him to start sacrificing sons to the cause of creating a better world in his image.

(side note, I imagine the reason he doesn't consider the Montclaire name is because it's probably already been reclaimed by the Clave or has other members still continuing it. Herondale was still being used by Imogen up until her death in City of Ashes so it dying out is a very recent development)

it's 2am this might have stopped being coherent ages ago but like also idk if I read that as Jace saying people can't change tbh. to me he's saying that names in and of themselves don't really change anything, like Jonathan dying his hair black didn't change anything either. a name is just a name, and Herondale was supposed to be his. something could also be said on how it parallels Clary too because Jocelyn spent her own life pretending she was Clary Fray, a normal mundane girl, but she wasn't. Valentine would have wanted her to be Clary Morgenstern, but she wasn't that either.

My firmest TSC take will always be that Jace should have gone by Lightwood in the end. I get that him being a Herondale makes sense in the grand scheme of the TSC universe (him, Will, James, Kit, and Edmund are all birds of a feather), but his personal arc is far more dependent on the family who raised him. Learning about his biological parents is of course important to him, but calling himself a Herondale doesn't actually feel like a resolution to his identity crisis. TMI is all about rejecting the hatred handed down from previous generations, which is why neither Clary nor Jace identify as Morgensterns. While Stephen was nowhere near as bad as Valentine, he also did even less to shape Jace into his adult self. Robert and Maryse on the other hand actually raised him for half his life, and Alec Isabelle and Max grew up alongside him as his siblings. He's a Lightwood in every way that matters, I don't get why Jace (in-universe) would choose to identify himself as a Herondale when there's nothing tying him to that family but blood spilled before he was born.

Anyways, I'm a Jace Lightwood truther for life, thank you for coming to my tedtalk

[orcelito]

Did the stuff exchange 👍 that sucked 👍 wahoo

[ereh-emanresu-tresni]

.

[scienceismygirlfriend]

Reading asks:

2. Flops! Or 9. Compels me tho

2. flops! i consider this one a flop because i really wanted to like it BUT. i did not enjoy Things In Jars. it had a great premise, and i love a ghost sidekick as much as the next guy, but it just did not come together for me. and the most frustrating this is that the things i didn't enjoy about it don't seem to be the things that bothered anyone else who didn't like the book so i didn't even get the cathartic release of reading the two star reviews of the book!!

9. compels me tho: this is maybe a goofy answer but i read the first dinotopia children's novel (Windchaser) while on a road trip and it's pretty simple and predictable but DINOSAURS THOUGH. i don't know why i never read this as a child (i devoured A Land Apart from Time) but i know i would have been soooo annoying about it if i had. it's cute!

[thebigqueer]

its so funny to me that she was like 'you deserve better' because little does she even know she genuilnely was best. like no one is ever going to top her. and i know with my full heart that she will find better than me and im supposed to want that for her but i really really dont. cuz i know theres so much better than me but theres no one better than her

[yamujiburo]

A few months ago, some of you might know if you keep up with this blog, I went to Collect-A-Con LA. It was truly on a whim. Literally the day before my girlfriend and I had just come back from our Europe trip. Normally I'd be so tired and jetlagged but for some reason I was feeling really antsy and energized and just needed to go somewhere and get out of the house.

I found out that Collect-A-Con LA was happening the following day and that a lot of the original Pokemon voice cast would be there. So I bought a ticket, drew/printed up a picture that I wanted to get signed and got up early to drive to the convention center (you have to understand that I hate driving in town and also very much never wake up early). I don't know what possessed me to do this but I'm so glad I did.

I ended up having the privilege of meeting Eric Stuart, Veronica Taylor and of course, Rachael Lillis.

She was masked up, looked tired, and a bit sick. And at the time, I assumed she might've caught a cold over the weekend of the con. I went to her table and she still smiled and gave me all of her attention and time. I paid her assistant for an autograph, gave Rachael the drawing I'd done and she got to signing it. Her assistant said the print I had was cute and asked where I got it. I told her that I drew it myself and that I spent a LOT of my time drawing Team Rocket and other various Pokemon fanart. When I said that, Rachel stopped mid-sign and looked up and squinted at me and asked "are you Kiana Mai"? My heart skipped. I had no idea she knew who I was and was surprised that, given how many Pokemon fanartists there are in the world, she was able to pick me out. I left that interaction so happy and felt so seen. Soon after, I went to get my print signed by Veronica Taylor and while in her line, noticed Rachael had left her table; presumably not feeling well and had to leave the con early. I remember thinking how lucky I was to catch her before she left.

A couple months later, I saw the gofundme that her sister posted, detailing what Rachel was going through for the past few years and her battle with cancer. It put that convention day in such a different perspective for me.

All I could think about was how much she cared about her fans and how in touch with her community she was to go to a convention while being in so much pain and suffering in silence. I obviously don't know her personally, but based on how other fans who've met her, as well as her colleagues have spoken about her, I got the impression that she was an amazing, thoughtful person who cared about the people around her. That was only solidified for me based on this singular interaction a few months ago.

Rest in Peace Rachael Lillis. You've touched so many lives with your voice and so much of us grew up listening you. Thank you for everything!

[discoreptile]

Shellycoat

[imaginedisish]

Dare (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Hey guys. Just wanted to say thank you for all the support I got this morning. All of your comments really warmed my heart. Thank you so, so, so much. I ended up getting this done pretty fast. Went with "Dare" by Gorillaz for the title. Made me feel better to write. I like this one. Hope you do, too. Enjoy!

Summary: Logan finds out you've never been eaten out while playing a game of "Truth or Dare," and he's more than willing to change that.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI!!! SMUT!!! Oral (f!receiving), Fingering, softdom!Logan, pussydrunk!Logan (he does not let up, he is starving for you), older!Logan, implied aged gap (reader is in her 20s/old enough to teach at the institute), cocky!Logan, he is an absolute service dom in this, friends to lovers, mentions of mental health/self worth, fluff, some hurt to comfort, some angst, afab/fem!reader, cursing, def some grammatical errors, I think that's it.

Word Count: 4,235 wowza didn't expect that and oh my god this gif

You’re lying on your floor—the door to your room wide open. Everyone is out anyway. It’s Friday night at the mansion—no one will see you like this. Students’ papers are scattered around you. You stare up at the ceiling, feeling choked up. It had been a bad day—a bad week. Maybe even a bad year. You feel like you’re slipping, losing yourself. 

Teaching the older students had become beyond challenging—possibly because you aren’t much older than them in the first place. Most days, it felt like everyone expected greatness from you, given the strength of your powers, which naturally comes with responsibility, and that can be incredibly overwhelming. It had all been—if you were being brutally honest—an absolutely terrible time. 

So, you’re lying on your floor, feeling numb. You stopped grading papers at least an hour ago, and simply decided to stare at the ceiling, your head spinning. You wanted to calm the noise, to take a breather. Luckily, you’re alone—everyone is on a mission or out given that it’s Friday night. 

Or so you thought. 

“What on Earth are you doing?” A familiar voice cuts through the silence like a knife, jarring you, and forcing you to look up. And there he is, in a white t-shirt and denim jeans, arms crossed tightly against his chest, leaning in the doorway. Logan. You want to roll your eyes at how good he looks. You want to slap yourself for thinking it in the first place.

He smirks at you, his brows furrowed playfully. You let your head fall back to the floor. “Grading papers,” you mutter. You can hear his footsteps as he walks into the room, drawing closer to you. 

“Doesn’t look like you’re grading papers to me,” he teases. You can hear the smile in his voice. “Why aren’t you out with Jean or Rogue?” 

He stands next to you, and you look up at him. “Didn’t feel like it,” you mumble, forcing yourself to sit up. You draw your knees into your chest. You decide to turn the question around on him. “Why aren’t you out?”

He sits down next to you, stretching his long legs in front of him, his shoulder bumping against yours as he settles in. He shrugs. “Somebody’s gotta keep an eye on you, right?” He jokes, nudging his elbow into your arm. You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. It’s impossible to fight it when he’s next to you. Your eyes meet his, and his smile quickly turns into something else—concern. “You’ve been off lately.”

You swallow harshly. “Did Jean or Rogue say something?” You ask. They’d notice, maybe they told Logan. “Did they ask you to stay with me or something?”

But Logan shakes his head. “No. I could just tell,” he says, worry clear in his voice. “Thought I’d hang back with you. All my idea.” He tilts his head, his jaw working, his brows furrowing again. “Is something going on?” 

You take a deep breath, turning away from him. You’re suddenly overwhelmed by his presence, by his kindness and his care. He stayed home for you. “I’m okay,” you mutter, avoiding the truth. 

“Hey,” Logan whispers, tentatively reaching his hand to your knee, waiting for you to shove him away. His palm is warm against your skin, calming and stabilizing. You turn back to look at him, his brows raised incredulously. “I know that’s not true,” he says. He has always been able to read you like a book. “What’s going on?”

You swallow harshly. “I’ve just been having a tough time lately,” you say, distracted by the way his thumb brushes across your knee. “I…” You trail off, letting your eyes fall closed. “Things are hard.”

“You can talk about it if you want,” he says, his voice deep and steady. “I’m here.” 

You sniffle, struggling to keep yourself in check. “I just…” you pause, looking off to the side. “Everything sucks.” You take another deep breath. “And the students are so hard.” You point to the piles of papers scattered around your floor. “And then there’s me, and all my shit. My powers. The responsibilities we have. I’m young, and I’m still learning. And fuck, Logan, this all just feels so impossible sometimes. It…it…” You trail off, finally running out of words, out of steam.

“It hurts.” He finishes your sentence, taking the words right out of your mouth. You turn back towards him, your eyes instantly meeting his. “It hurts a lot.”

You nod. “Yeah, exactly.” He squeezes your knee comfortingly. “You get it,” you murmur. 

“It’s gonna be okay,” he soothes, his hand lifting off your knee, his arm wrapping around your shoulder instead. “I’ve got you.” You let yourself lean into his touch, resting your head in the crook of his neck. “Let’s take your mind off things, yeah?”

You nod against him, not wanting to move away, not wanting to separate from him. He feels so nice, so solid. “What did you have in mind?” You ask, hoping it doesn’t involve getting up.

“Wanna play a game?” He offers, turning his head to look down at you. You smile widely, almost mockingly. “What?” He chides. “You think I don’t know how to have fun?”

You laugh softly. “I just don’t see you as a game guy, Lo,” you confess. He chuckles, and you can feel his laughter reverberating through his chest. “Can you even think of one to play?”

Logan’s still laughing, shaking his head. “What about truth or dare?” He ever so slightly pulls you in closer, his lips pressed against the side of your head. 

You giggle, feeling light for the first time in a long time. “Are we in seventh grade?” You ask teasingly. You felt like a teenager, honestly—being next to Logan always made you feel like a love-sick schoolgirl. But you know you and him could never be. You were younger than Logan—everyone was—but you, being in your 20s, assume that Logan doesn’t see you the way you see him. 

He just shakes his head and laughs, pulling you back to reality. “Truth or dare?” He asks, ignoring your middle school comment and officially starting the game. 

You don’t want to get up, don’t want to move an inch, so you answer: “Truth,” hoping it isn’t anything too crazy. 

Logan thinks for a second, his head resting on yours. “Why’d you pick truth instead of dare?” He finally asks. 

You roll your eyes. “Boring!” You tease. “I only picked it because I don’t feel like moving.” And then you realize…perhaps your answer is more revealing than you previously considered. Your heart thunders in your chest. 

Logan hums. “And why don’t you want to move, exactly?” He’s onto you. 

“You asked your question, you got an answer,” you protest, trying to shut him down. “No follow-up questions.” It’s your turn now. “Truth or dare?” You ask. 

“Truth,” he says. “Because maybe I don’t feel like moving either.”

You smile, and you can feel him looking down at you. You’re too nervous to meet his gaze. You think for a moment, racking your brain for a question. “Did you really stay home for me, and was it all your own idea?” You finally ask. You regret the question almost immediately, fearful of the honest answer. 

“Yes,” he responds without a beat. “Jean said you were staying in, and said she didn’t know why, so I stayed too.” He pauses, and you can hear his steady breathing amidst the silence. “I was worried, princess.” The pet name burns a hole through your heart. “Needed to know that you were okay.”

You can feel tears building behind your sinuses. “Thank you, Lo,” you whisper. “That means a lot.”

He presses the ghost of a kiss to the crown of your head—almost not quite there. But you can feel it, hesitant and tentative. “It’s nothing, no need to thank me.” You finally find the courage to look up at him and find him smiling down at you. His lips part. “Truth or dare?” He asks again. 

You can feel some sort of tension brewing, building, thick and heavy. You try to ignore it, try to brush it off. Your heart hammers in your chest. “Truth,” you pick again. “But get a little more creative this time.”

He pauses, the gears in his head turning. And then finally: “Why’s your heart beating so fast? It’s loud, too.” 

Your eyes widen, suddenly remembering Logan’s heightened senses. He can hear everything. “Uh…” You trail off, not sure how to get out of this. “I-It’s not…”

He laughs. “You’re a terrible liar. You know that?” His voice is deep and honeyed, smooth. “You gotta answer the question, or I get to ask another.”

“Those are not the rules!” You protest, lifting your head to look at him. He’s got that shit-eating grin on his face, the one that makes your stomach drop. 

He tugs you into his chest again, his lips at the shell of your ear. “Then answer the question,” he whispers, his breath warm against your skin, sending a chill down your spine. He’s so close. Too close. Your heart is only beating faster, louder now. 

“I don’t know,” you whisper. But of course, you know. It’s all because of him. “Just anxious, I guess.” It’s a half-truth—you’re certainly nervous, but you can’t bring yourself to tell him why. 

“No need to be nervous, sweetheart,” Logan coos, his thumb brushing circles into your shoulder. “It’s just me.”

Yes, exactly, you want to say. It’s you. But you don’t. You try to steady your breathing, try to calm down. “My turn,” you force yourself to say. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” he says darkly. “And make it good.” You can hear the cockiness in his voice—a sudden shift in his tone. 

“We should just call this truth or truth,” you say, mulling over a question in your mind. It’s hard to think with him this close—hard to breathe. You want to rile him up, to find out what makes him tick—to make him itch the way he makes you. And then it hits you: the perfect question. “When was the last time you…” You stop yourself, suddenly too nervous to ask. 

“When was the last time I what, darlin’?” He asks, cocking his head to the side, raising his eyebrows. 

You huff. You’ve fallen into your own trap. There’s no backing out now. “When was the last time…” You pause again, biting your lip. You close your eyes. “…somebody got you off?” 

“Been a while,” he says simply. Your eyes flutter open, and Logan is completely relaxed, his eyes trained on you. He isn’t annoyed. He’s unbothered, unprovoked, as if you had asked him what the weather was going to be like tomorrow. “But it depends on how you mean. So, what do you mean?” He finishes. 

You’re slightly frustrated by how easy it was for him to answer. “I don’t know,” you mutter, shrugging your shoulders. “Whatever the last time was.”

“Few years back, not particularly proud of it,” he huffs. “Girl took care of me in a bar. That was it.” 

You nod. “Must’ve been nice,” you whisper, suddenly feeling a bit disheartened. You catch his drift; you know it didn’t mean anything. You likely didn’t know Logan at that time, having only arrived at the Institute two years ago. You know you shouldn’t feel jealous, shouldn’t care that he was ever with someone else, even for a fleeting moment. You’ve had boyfriends. You’ve been with other people. 

“It was fine. Just a blowjob.” He says it nonchalantly. “Didn’t mean a thing.” You look straight ahead, waiting for him to elaborate. But he doesn’t. “Truth or dare?” He finally asks. 

“Truth.” Your fake, plastered-on smile becomes real when his eyes meet yours. It’s just what happens when you look at him. “And make it interesting.”

The corner of his mouth turns up slyly, and you know he has something up his sleeve. “When was the last time somebody did that to you?” He asks. 

You cock your head to the side. “What do you mean?” But you already know exactly what he’s asking. And you desperately do not want to give him the answer.

“Got you off, like that,” he husks. “With their mouth.”

Fuck. “Uh…” You trail off. You can feel heat spreading across your chest and up your neck, your skin prickling. “Never,” you say honestly. 

“What?” Logan’s voice cuts through the tension like a knife. “Never?”

You’re suddenly embarrassed. Your skin feels tight—so do your shorts and tank top. “Never,” you repeat, looking down at your knees, still pulled in tightly to your chest. Your heart beats rapidly. “Just hasn’t happened yet,” you choke out. “I’ve been with people, but…”

“Hey,” he whispers, suddenly grabbing your chin and angling you up to face him. “It’s okay,” he soothes. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, princess.”

You smile shyly, reveling in his touch. “You didn’t,” you insist honestly. “Just a little embarrassed.”

Logan shakes his head, his eyes softening. “Nothing to be embarrassed about,” he assures. “You deserve to be taken care of.” His hand slides across your jaw and cups the back of your neck. “Deserve to feel good.”

Your eyes flutter closed at his touch. “Lo,” you whisper, struggling to keep your composure. Heat pools between your thighs. “Tr-truth or dare.”

His forehead presses to yours. “I think we’re done with the game, pretty girl,” he rasps, the arm around your shoulder slipping down to your waist. “Unless I get to give you a dare this time.”

“What’s the dare?” You ask, your eyes fluttering back open. His lips are so close. Your noses touch softly.

He works his jaw, licking his lips. “Let me eat you out, pretty girl,” he pants, his chest heaving against yours. “Let me take care of you like you should’ve been already.” He hates the idea that you’ve never been touched properly, the idea that those younger guys didn’t know how to treat you right. But he can fix that. He can make you feel good.

“Fuck,” you curse, his breath fanning across your lips. “A-are you sure?” You ask. “I don’t want you to do it just because you feel bad for me or—” “You think that’s what this is about?” He cuts you off, pulling you closer so that your body faces his, your thighs slotting together like puzzle pieces. “You think I want this just because I feel bad for you?”

“Well…” You search his eyes. “Yes,” you say. 

Logan’s face falls, and he shakes his head. “I want you, pretty girl,” he pants, his knee rubbing against your aching core. “Wanted you this whole time.” His palm presses firmly against your back, his other hand gripping your neck tighter. He wants, no, needs you closer. “You ruined me the second I saw you. Haven’t been with anyone since then.”

“Logan,” you whisper, bringing your hands up to his neck. “I want you too. Always have,” you confess.

He smiles, his lips pressing a chaste kiss to yours. “Then let me do this for you,” he rasps, almost begging, like he needs this more than you do. “Need to make you feel good, beautiful.” “Please,” you breathe. “Want you so bad, Lo.”

He curses under his breath, his lips capturing yours, harder this time. This kiss is starving, all-consuming. His tongue swipes across your lower lip, and you open your mouth, inviting him inside. He lowers you down carefully, sure not to break the kiss, guiding your back to the wood floor below. 

His thighs rest on either side of your hips as he hovers over you, bracing himself with his forearm. His free hand trails up your body, exploring your curves, hiking your shirt above your breasts. He smirks against your lips at the realization that you have no bra on. 

“Look at you,” he mumbles, rolling a nipple under his thumb, palming your breast. “Fucking perfect.” His fingertips drag to the other side, massaging you gently, taking your nipple between his thumb and forefinger and pinching softly. “Can smell you, you know,” he grunts. “Know you’re soaking for me, darlin’.”

His hand slides between the valley of your breasts, trailing down your stomach, until his fingertips bump into the waistband of your panties. He hesitates, looking down at you, waiting for you to change your mind, to tell him to stop. “Please,” you beg. “Need you, Lo.”

Logan smirks, his hand slipping under the hem of your shorts and inside your panties. “Love it when you call me that, sweetheart,” he groans. His fingertips flick your clit gently before finding your folds, feeling your arousal. “Barely even touched you,” he tuts. “And she’s already crying for me.”

He prods your entrance, spreading your slick, teasing you. He bites your lips, sucking so hard he might bruise—might draw blood—and you hope he does. You want proof that he was here, proof that he wants you—needs you this badly. You moan as his fingers find your clit again, drawing a few soft circles before pulling away, his hand slipping out of your shorts. 

You grab his biceps needily, impatiently, your nails digging into his skin. “Don’t stop,” you cry out. “Please, Logan.” 

He swallows your moans with another kiss, his lips trailing down to your jaw, then your neck—that sensitive spot just under your ear. “Don’t worry, pretty girl,” he soothes, biting down on your pulse point, licking the hollow of your throat. “Don’t think I could stop if I tried.” He nips at your collarbone, shoving your tank top further up your chest as his lips drag down the valley of your breasts. 

He kisses his way to your stomach, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your shorts, tugging them down your legs. His palms spread across your inner thighs, yanking them apart. He settles between them, his face just inches from your heat. He presses a chaste kiss to your clit, still all too clothed, hidden behind your panties. 

“Lo,” you whine. He breathes you in, pressing another kiss to your clit. He digs his fingers into the hem of your panties, slowly pulling them down your legs. 

“Wanna take my time with you, sweetheart,” he grunts, finally throwing your panties to the side. He spreads your legs wider, his face settling back between your thighs. You can feel his breath against your cunt, warm and teasing. “Wanna take care of you.” His lips finally find your clit again, and he licks at you. 

His tongue is soft, warm, wet. He laps at you again, harder this time, and you moan his name. “Fuck,” you curse as he licks a long stripe through your folds and back up to your clit, flicking the bud. Your legs twitch, your hips backing away involuntarily at the newfound pleasure. Logan’s hands slide under your ass, yanking you back to his face. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” He mumbles teasingly against you, the vibration of his deep, bassy voice rocking your core. “Not letting you go until I’m done with you, darlin’.”

You curse under your breath as he licks another long, slow stripe through your folds before settling on your clit. His tongue draws gentle circles around the bud, and you can’t hold back the loud moan that falls from your lips. 

“Yeah?” Logan husks between laps. “Feels good, pretty girl?”

“Y-yes,” you stammer, looking down at Logan, his face buried against your cunt. His eyes are trained on yours, watching your every move, taking in the way you’re squirming for him. “D-didn’t know it would feel this good, Lo.”

“Gonna try something, okay?” He says, his eyes searching yours. You nod emphatically, bracing yourself. His lips wrap around your clit, his teeth lightly grazing the bud as he pulls it into his mouth. And then he sucks, hard. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, your back arching off the floor.

He releases the bud, and does it again, sucking harder this time. Tears brim at the corners of your eyes, pleasure coursing through your veins. “Logan!” You cry out, your nails digging into the floor below, searching for purchase. “Fuck!” He laps at you soothingly, drawing tighter, faster circles around your clit. 

“You okay?” He coos between laps, his tongue swirling rapidly. 

You swallow, meeting his gaze again. The sight of him between your legs, working your clit, his hair a disheveled mess—it’s overwhelming. “Yeah,” you heave. “More than okay.”

He smirks against you and wraps his lips around your clit again, sucking on the bud like hard candy. His right hand slides out from under your ass, trailing up your inner thigh. Your heart thunders in your chest as his fingertips find your folds, spreading your slick, your walls clenching down around nothing. 

“Know you need ‘em, pretty girl,” Logan croons, two fingers nudging your entrance. “Beg for it.”

But he’s sucking on your clit again, making it impossible to say a word. You whimper, your legs trembling. “P-please,” you stutter, choking on air. “Need…” You trail off, your eyes fluttering closed. You swallow harshly. “Need your fingers, Lo,” you finally manage. 

“That’s a good girl,” he praises, shoving two fingers deep inside you, down to his knuckles. 

“Fuck, thank you,” you whine, moaning his name as his fingers stretch you out. You suddenly feel so full, so warm, so close. He pulls out, only to plunge back in, deeper this time. He’s lapping at you with reckless abandon—a man starved, like you’re the air he needs to breathe. Your walls flutter around him, the liquid heat in your lower belly threatening to burst. 

“Tastes so good,” Logan mumbles against you, his long, thick fingers thrusting in and out. He hits that sweet spot deep inside you with every pump. “Such a sweet little pussy. Tastes better than I imagined.” You’re crumbling underneath him. His words alone might push you over the edge. “Nothing compares to you, you know that?”

Your walls flutter again, his fingers sinking deeper inside you. “You like that?” Logan husks. “Like knowing how much I want you? How much I need you?”

“Yes,” you groan, his fingers fucking into you, faster now. His teeth graze your clit as he pulls the bud back into his mouth and sucks roughly. “N-need you, too. Always.” 

“I know, pretty girl,” he soothes, scissoring inside you, dragging along your walls. He laps at you, his tongue stroking your clit. “Not going anywhere. I’ve got you.”

You curse under your breath. You can feel yourself melting, your walls contracting and releasing. “Lo,” you call. “I’m so close. Wanna…” You trail off, unable to finish. 

“Can feel you squeezing me, sweetheart,” he breathes. “Don’t hold back. Let it happen,” he coaches, rocking into you. “Wanna taste you, wanna feel you come on my fingers.” He laps at you between sentences. “Come for me. Know you can do it.” And then everything is white-hot and blazing.

It’s earth-shattering—better than anything has ever felt before. The tension snaps, heat boiling under your skin. Everything is blurry, hazy, dizzied as you let go, and let go hard. You cry out Logan’s name, your thighs shaking as waves of pleasure drag you under. Your bones are burning, scorching. Everything is on fire—overwhelming and greedily all-consuming. 

Logan’s pumps slow, and he carefully pulls out of you. He laves at you, his tongue pushing through your folds, milking you dry, savoring every last drop. 

“Logan,” you whisper, your hands reaching down to his head, digging your fingers into his scalp. 

He hums against you, unwavering as his tongue laps at your folds, tasting your release. 

You’re still shaking, still coming down from your high. “Logan,” you call again, and he looks up this time, lifting his face from your cunt. Your release glistens on his chin, and he licks his lips clean of you. His eyes are dark, his palms squeezing your thighs possessively. 

“I’m not done yet, sweetheart,” he says, demand clear in his voice. 

Your heart flutters in your chest as he climbs up your body, hovering over you again. His lips find yours. “You taste that?” He mumbles, kissing you again, harder this time. “You taste how sweet you are?”

“Y-yes,” you answer, his hand sliding down your body, slipping between your legs, finding your overstimulated clit. 

He pinches the bud lightly, your back arching off the ground, your breasts pressing to his all-too-clothed chest. “Need more of you,” he husks, his hand dragging back up your body. He sits up and pulls you into his chest, taking all your weight as he hoists you up and stands. You instinctually wrap your legs around his waist. 

He places you in the center of your bed before striding across the room, closing and locking your bedroom door. “They’ll all be home soon,” Logan says, walking back towards you, spreading your legs and settling between your thighs. “Might have to be quiet for me, darlin’.”

“W-what do you—”

And then his face is buried deep inside your cunt, his tongue lapping desperately at your clit. “I told you,” he rasps. “I’m not finished with you yet.”

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