#can’t believe I just wrote that

[juniorfor2]

See, I honestly think half the problems in HOTD could really just be solved if they slowed down their pacing. The second season was described a while ago as “action-packed”, and I was pretty suspicious then, but seeing it now has really just confirmed what I theorized.

During the actual Dance of Dragons, the politics and events can mostly be separated into 4 main parts:

Aegon II’s Usurpation - Rook’s Rest/Battle of the Gullet

Rook’s Rest/Battle of the Gullet - TB takes King’s Landing

Rhaenyra’s Reign - Rhaenyra’s Death

End of Aegon II’s Reign and the Queen’s Army Claims King’s Landing for Aegon III

The transition from smaller house politics and action to main Targaryen Hightower conflict is a bit messy around Rook’s Rest and the Battle of the Gullet, but for the purposes of a finale HOTD s2 should obviously be ending with Rook’s Rest.

During the first section, most of the action happens with the smaller houses and other kingdoms, not the Targaryens/Hightowers. The only truly notable events in the beginning for them are Lucerys’ and Jaehaerys’ deaths. Beyond that, almost everything is either politics and diplomacy, or small house battles (in the Riverlands and Reach).

This includes Jace’s diplomacy with the Arryns, the Manderlys, and the Starks. This results in Jeyne Arryn clearly outlining this fight as one against the patriarchy, the Manderlys gaining a marriage pact, and the biggest Easter Egg for ASOIAF - the Pact of Ice and Fire between the Starks and the Targaryens.

In the Riverlands, this results in all but two small houses declaring for Rhaenyra, and going into battle against the Lannister Army (resulting in Jason Lannister’s death). In the Reach, again most declaring for Rhaenyra, by first sending ravens demanding the release of their house lords, and eventually harassing Oldtown’s army when KL refuses to respond and Criston kills the lords/ladies.

There are so many things going on in the other kingdoms, that almost every episode should be focused on them, not Rhaenyra or Alicent.

If the writers had done so, it would have fixed almost all the inaction from Rhaenyra and Alicent. In F&B, Rhaenyra doesn’t do much of anything due to grief. And to be fair to the writers, this was actually a bit of not so great writing from GRRM, as most of the Targaryen/Hightower women in the first section do absolutely nothing (see Helaena as well). But unfortunately, there’s not actually much they can make them do now, because none of the action is near them - it’s in the rest of the Seven Kingdoms. So the only thing they can do is stupid shit like talking with each other in a sept where they say nothing original and act like none of the childrens’ deaths meant anything.

If, instead, the writers had focused on the rest of the Seven Kingdoms, this would have fixed that. There are so many battles, so many important conversations that would have filled the time. Both Rhaenyra and Alicent would have had so little screen time, that any scene they did have would matter a lot, without needing to fit in useless scenes. For instance, despite Rhaenyra having only one line in Ep. 1, it was a very meaningful and important line to the point that we didn’t actually need to hear much more from her.

This would result in action scenes like Lucerys’ death, B&C, Arryk/Erryk’s death, and Rook’s Rest becoming extremely shocking actions with large implications that stretch across the entire season, not quick actions scenes that can be forgotten as quick as they were seen.

This season shouldn’t be action packed. It should be slow, it should be the 1st season of GOT. Jace should have spent at least 2-3 episodes in the Vale/Winterfell, not be doing nothing but giving one-liners. The Burning Mill should have been an actual battle, the first real battle for Rhaenyra/Aegon. We should see the dozens of ravens flying in, declaring for Rhaenyra. We should see Aegon’s frustration and despair as he realizes that his mother/grandfather lied to him, that the Raelm would never flock to his side. We should be exploring themes of the patriarchy and how women broke out of or found ways around gender roles, of the lords placing more power and want for a king’s chosen heir over male primogeniture, of how non-feminist women can still fight for a feminist cause. Not one of misunderstandings where misogyny is stripped away for self-insert characters and political mouthpieces.

I hate to say it, but I wish D&D were the writers over C&H. They too were misogynistic and racist, but they adapted scenes so well that book themes carried across regardless of their intent.

[lilislegacy]

this is my roman empire. and after all these years, i finally have to say something.

GRUNT-WHIMPER??? GRUNT-WHIMPER!!!!???

ANNABETH GIRL ARE YOU OKAY??

forget her just standing there gasping for air. forget her very audible sigh. forget the fact that annabeth initiates 80% of their kisses and literally has to restrain herself from kissing him in front of all of New Rome in MoA. i could go on and on about how many times percy calls her beautiful and attractive (let’s not forget how his heart races and his skin tingles at her touch) and all his boyfriend-ly thoughts about her, but lets focus on annabeth for a sec. BECAUSE ANNABETH CHASE IS GRUNT-WHIMPERING??

our girl was feeling ALL the things in this scene. she’s so weak in the knees for him that she can’t even hide it in front of piper. also percy must be a fantastic kisser? BECAUSE GRUNT-WHIMPER??

do not EVER tell me percy and annabeth don’t have romantic feelings for each other. do not EVER tell me it’s purely platonic. if you’re someone who thinks “nah i can’t see them getting married and having kids cause i don’t think they feel that way about each other” you clearly did not read about the grunt-whimper (well, you can hc whatever you want. i respect all opinions. but i do think you need to re-consider and account for the grunt-whimper)

BECAUSE GRUNT-WHIMPER?? ONE GOOD KISS FROM PERCY IS MAKING ANNABETH CHASE GRUNT-WHIMPER?? IS THAT RICK’S “CHILD-APPROPRIATE” WAY OF SAYING SHE MOANED?? HE SHOULD HAVE JUST SAID SHE MOANED. GRUNT-WHIMPER IS SO MUCH WORSE. THAT GOES SO FAR BEYOND A MOAN. A MOAN IS TAME COMPARED TO A GRUNT-WHIMPER.

GUYS I-

[not-neverland06]

n a s t y d o g I logan howlett x fem!mutant!reader

One-shot A/N: I've never felt this way about a fictional character before. Every gif I see of him has me gnawing and biting at the bars of my enclosure. I want to bite him. If Hugh Jackman ever discovered what thoughts lurk inside my rotted brain about him he'd get a restraining order. This isn't OKAY Anyways... Summary: You'd thought you'd had a good thing going with Logan. You weren't officially anything to each other, but you were getting close. You truly saw a future with him, but he made it incredibly clear he did not feel the same 18+ HATE FUCKING (MDNI)

(one chance please, just one chance with him)

“Are you sure this isn’t totally clingy girlfriend of me?”

Ororo gives you an irritated look and Jean laughs. “Not at all, Scott loves it when I surprise him like this.” You’re all huddled in your room, each of you in varying stages of getting ready. Jean is finishing off her eyeliner at your vanity, Ororo is putting on her boots, and you’re trying to decide between a skirt and a dress. 

You’re not entirely sure how, or why, Logan and Scott decided to go to the bar together tonight. You suspect it has something to do with Jean. She wants them to start getting along so there’s less friction when you’re all around each other. 

At Jean’s idea, Logan had muttered, “When hell freezes over,” in your ear before he had left for the night. You’d gotten a little antsy without him to entertain you and had mistakenly blurted out the idea of going to visit them. Ororo had been dying to get out of the house and Jean was a little worried about her boyfriend as well. They’d agreed to go along with you and you’ve felt a weight in your stomach ever since. 

Your relationship with Logan was relatively new. Hell, a month ago you’d thought he’d hated you the same he did Scott. You’d, of course, been proven wrong when you’d had a few drinks with him and things had taken a very physical turn. 

You weren’t sure if he’d just wanted a one-night stand or something serious. But when you’d tried to sneak out the next morning and he’d muttered a grumpy, “Where’re you going?” You’d gotten your answer. 

You hadn’t been on any real dates, there didn’t ever seem to be time for them. But you spent most of your days together. Sometimes just silently enjoying each other’s company, other times you would be holed up in one of your rooms cuddling. The thought always brings a stupid lovesick grin to your face. 

It’s one of your first real relationships and you’re worried that things are moving a little too fast. At least on your end. You can already tell that you’re falling for him. Headfirst into the deep end of love. And it’s terrifying because you truly cannot tell what he thinks about you. Clearly, he likes you. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t let you follow him around like a lost puppy. 

But he’s never truly said anything to you. There’s no official label as to what you two are. You say girlfriend off-handly and you usually don’t mean it when you reference yourself. You’ve never outright said he’s your boyfriend and he’s never really claimed you. He’s made it explicitly clear he doesn’t want you sleeping with other men, and you’ve said the same to him about women. You both agreed on that, but…

You kind of drive yourself crazy trying to figure this out. He’s not vocal about his feelings and everything’s still new so you don’t like pressuring him. You also worry that if you push him too far he’ll just get tired of you and move on. It’s not fair to assume that of him, and you know everything would be better if you just talked to him. But you’re scared. You’re scared the conversation will take the wrong direction and everything will blow up in your face. 

Jean calls your name and your head shoots up to see both Ororo and Jean looking at you expectantly. You flush when you realize they must have been talking to you and you’d just completely zoned out thinking about Logan. 

“Huh?” You blurt out, cringing at how dumb you sound. 

Jean gives you a concerned look, “I can practically taste your anxiety.” The telepath frowns and offers you a comforting smile. “Don’t worry about it, I promise, Logan won’t mind at all.”

“You’re fine,” Ororo adds, because clearly the look on your face screams, I need constant validation. They’re not wrong, but still, you hate feeling like an exposed bundle of nerves. “Think of it as girl’s night, the boys just happen to be there.” 

You force a smile on your face and give your most enthusiastic nod. You change into the dress and finish up with your hair. You finally start chatting with them again, engaging so it might disguise just how nervous you feel. 

There’s this clenching feeling, traveling from your stomach up to your chest. It makes you sick, makes you hurt. And it’s not because you think Logan will be upset with you for crashing. He’d be relieved, if anything. There’s something else. Premonition isn’t one of your abilities, but you’re seriously starting to doubt that now. 

The bar is loud when you walk in. The soles of your shoes immediately start to stick to the floor and your nose screws up in disgust at the loud laughter coming from around the pool tables. You glance around, trying to see if you can spot Logan. 

You’d say you could spot him in any crowd. But has a propensity to hunker down and try to attract as little attention as possible so people don’t bother him. “There he is,” Jean taps your shoulders and points to the two men at the end of the bar. 

Like you’d thought, Logan is hunched over his whiskey, glowering down at the wood under him like it had insulted him. You almost want to laugh at the sight. Some of the earlier anxiety eases its grip on you and you feel your shoulders begin to untense. 

Before you can walk over Ororo grabs Jean’s wrist. “Gotta go to the bathroom,” she tugs Jean behind her. 

Jean looks over her shoulder at you and smiles encouragingly, “Go to them, we’ll catch up in a second.” You give her a tentative nod and slip through the crowd. There are more people here than you thought there would be. 

You’re happy not to spot any kids in the crowd. You’ve had a few too many nights out crashed by kids who thought they were good at sneaking out. 

It’s easy enough not to spot you or the other women in the crowd. Mutants have gotten good at blending in with the people around them. Makes it easier to get around. It’s probably why neither Logan nor Scott stop their conversation as you approach. “So,” Scott draws the word out, fingers tapping against the glass of his beer. 

“Don’t,” Logan warns. You want to laugh at his grumpy demeanor, but someone’s accidentally elbowed you and you find yourself stumbling a few steps back. It’s taking entirely too long to get to them, the bar isn’t even that big. There’s just that many people here. 

Scott ignores him and rolls his eyes. “Look, we’re stuck here for a while. Try and pull that stick out of your ass.”

“How about I put one in yours?” Logan’s claws come out slightly. But then they both share an odd look and Scott smirks. “Shut the fuck up,” Logan grouses, “not like that.”

“Right,” Scott huffs out a laugh and shakes his head. He picks up his bottle and takes a long drink. You’ve nearly reached them now. You stop, though, when you hear Scott say your name. You shouldn’t, you really shouldn’t. Eavesdropping now is just asking to get hurt. 

You drop back into the crowd, hoping the smells of others will stop Logan from discovering you lurking behind them both. Scott continues, “How’s that going?”

You crane your neck forward, trying to hear them better over the karaoke happening behind you. Someone is butchering Britney Spears but you couldn’t care less right now. Logan shouldn’t answer. Since when has he ever shared anything with Scott?

So, imagine your surprise when his answer isn’t immediately telling him to fuck off. “Eh,” he shrugs, downing the rest of his whiskey. Your face drops in irritation. Seriously, all this skulking around for an Eh? That’s bullshit. 

You keep yourself from stepping forward, forcing your feet still, and ignoring the little voice in the back of your head telling you this is a bad idea. You’ve committed this much, you’re seeing it through. Scott whistles lowly, “That bad, huh?” Oh, fuck off, Summers. 

Logan shakes his head and for a moment you have a brief feeling of hope lifting you up. “Nah, not bad. It’s just, I don’t know.” Logan sits up and signals the bartender for a refill. Your snooping senses go off and you briefly see Ororo and Jean exiting the bathroom. Desperate for something to keep them at bay, you flick your wrist. The man in front of them tips his drink down Jean’s shirt, slurring out apologies. Jean huffs and Ororo brings her back into the bathroom. 

Scott and Logan somehow missed the whole interaction and you promise yourself that you’ll pay for Jean’s dry cleaning. You’re definitely not going to. “Think she wants something I don’t,” Logan tells Scott, and your heart plummets to your feet. You can practically see it deflate, all the lovesickness draining out of it and onto the floor of this grimy bar. 

“Like, she just wants to fuck around?”

Logan shakes his head and downs another glass of whiskey. He’s just swallowing it down like it’s water. At a certain point, the bartender gets sick of it and just leaves him with the bottle. “No, she wants something real. Like a real relationship.” Scott’s brows furrow and Logan shrugs. “Not interested.” 

It’s the way he says it that really bothers you. There’s nothing wrong with wanting something different in a relationship. It happens all the time. But he says it so dismissively. He knows that you want something real with him, something secure and loving. He knows that, continues to fuck you and lead you on, and then speaks as though you’re an idiot for ever being interested in that. 

Hurt hasn’t set in yet. You’re staring wide-eyed, jaw agape with shock as you stare at Logan’s back. You’d thought a conversation needed to be had. But you didn’t think that he thought of you like this. You’d thought you meant something to him. 

Scott seems to share the sentiment, his lips tugged down into a frown. He leans against the bar, surveying Logan with a disbelieving look. “What?” Logan snaps.

Scott raises his hands in surrender, shaking his head and backing off. “Nothing, man, I just thought you two were serious about each other.” You miss whatever Logan says as an arm slings itself around your shoulder. 

“What’re you doing?” A husky, seductive voice whispers against the shell of your ear. You jump in shock, glaring at Ororo as she grins at you. She lets her arm slide off your shoulders and glances over at Jean. “I think she was spying.”

Jean nods, nudging you forward. “Definitely spying. Hear anything good?”

You fortify your mind against her probing fingers before she can find out. “Nope,” you blurt out. You hope the racing of your heart is dismissed by your constantly frazzled nature. You hope the look on your face is explained by your earlier boredom and anxiety. You pray that none of them notice the way you lean away from Logan when the men finally turn around and notice you all. 

Scott breathes out a dramatic sigh of relief and slumps onto Jean. “Thank god, I thought I was going to die trying to talk to this brick wall.” his eyes flick towards you in a blink-and-you-miss-it moment. There’s a brief pitying look before he grins. “Come to get your boyfriend?” There’s a heavy emphasis on the word that you never would have noticed had you not heard their conversations. 

It’s clearly a petty dig at Logan. And you would appreciate it if you didn’t feel the sudden urge to vomit up your dinner. “Thought you might need saving from Logan.” You tell him, a chuckle hiding the slight tremor in your voice. 

You’re not sure if he does, but you hope Logan notices how you avoided the word boyfriend. You hope that he hurts the same way you do. But you know, deep down, that he doesn’t care. He’s probably relieved that you didn’t use the title. 

Logan gets off his stool, he wraps his arm around your shoulder, and pulls you into a brief hug. His lips press against your temple before he dips down to whisper, “Thank you,” in your ear.

Asshole, he’s not allowed to smile at you the way he is. If you weren’t in such a crowded place and already overstimulated, you’d shove him away. If your friends weren’t watching you’d take his arm and slam it down onto the bar until you hear his fucking adamantium bones break. 

That might have been too far. Maybe you’re not that angry, but you’re hurt.

You place your hands against his chest, a thin smile on your lips while you hum a simple, “Mhm.” He doesn’t seem to notice the way you push away from him. It’s easily dismissed by you cheekily stealing his seat at the bar. 

He comes up behind you, hands bracketing you and keeping you stuck against the bar while you order your drink. One of his hands drifts down, laying against your thigh. You know this isn’t sexual, this is him comforting you. 

He shouldn’t know how horrible you feel in such busy places. He shouldn’t know that and know that his touch is grounding and then help you. Not if he doesn’t want something serious. If he didn’t want to be your boyfriend, didn’t want to be anything but a fuck, then why do this to you? Did he not think this was leading you on? Is this just him caring for you?

You’ll drown in a sea of unanswered questions before the night is over if you linger too long. You tip your head back, let your shot burn its way down your throat, and turn towards the others with a smile. You feel your worries fade and your focus loosen as you simply drift further into your mind. 

You must have disassociated or something. By the time you realize you’re no longer hearing bad karaoke and your elbows aren’t sticking to the bar, you’re already home. You stare in the mirror, hand pausing as you brush your teeth before you quickly finish. 

You didn’t drink much, you never do. It fucks with your abilities and causes migraines. You rinse your mouth out and glance into your bedroom. Logan groans and stretches. His back bows, muscles flexing and you rip your eyes away. You can’t let yourself be distracted by the chest you want to drape yourself across. 

You need to talk to him. It’s never been more clear. You wipe your mouth and toss the towel onto the rim of the sink. You take in a deep breath, trying to get rid of the nerves plaguing you. It’s never worked before, it’s not going to suddenly cure you now. 

You give up on the thought and instead, shove down the anxiety until you have enough confidence to speak. It takes a little while, Logan peaks an eye open, eyebrows quirked when he sees you just staring at him. “Something up, bub?” he flexes, on purpose, and you roll your eyes. You grab his shirt out of your hamper and toss it at him. 

“Put this on. Can’t think when you look like that.”

He chuckles, “That’s the point.” at your pointed glare his smile drops and he tugs the beater on. It barely does anything to deter you. If anything you’re having more trouble paying attention. Especially now that his full attention is on you. The humor is gone from the room, a thick tension replaces it. Logan seems to feel it, sitting up straighter and glaring at you like he’s trying to read your mind. “What’s wrong?” It’s a demand more than a question. 

It’s hard to look at him. But you refuse to let yourself cower now. You take in a fortifying breath and let your gaze bore into his. You put all the hurt and anger you feel into it, willing yourself to be firm. “We need to talk.”

“‘Bout what?” He’s brusque, but there’s a slight concern to his tone. 

There’s no point hiding this. And maybe you had misheard, maybe there was a conversation prefacing the one you’d heard. And you’ll talk it out and everything will be okay. “I heard you and Scott talking at the bar.”

The hope you had, as minimal as it was, is dashed at your feet. He sucks in a deep breath and the look on his face has you crestfallen. You can feel your chest cave in. You feel so stupid all of a sudden. Constantly following after him, even before you started dating him. Looking at him with stars in your eyes and latching onto his every move and word. 

You’d worshiped him, put him up on a pedestal he didn’t deserve. Superhuman or not, at the end of the day he was still a man. And they’ve done nothing but disappoint you. You suck your teeth, gaze dropping to your feet as you fight back the tears in your eyes. “Right,” you whisper, stepping back from him. 

“Look,” he starts. You force your eyes up and watch as he rubs uncomfortably at the back of his neck. He takes a step towards you and you shake your head, stepping away from him. His arms fall to his sides and he sighs. “Sorry,” he mutters.

“That’s it?” You demand, tone incredulous. You weren’t some great love or anything. But that’s seriously all he has to say.

He opens his mouth, eyes softening as he stares at you. Then he snaps it shut, something covers his face and his expression is borderline cruel as he sneers at you. “Not my fault you got in over your head, kid. Never said I wanted anything more with you.” He points at you, and you suddenly feel like a little girl getting scolded. You’ve never had a partner make you feel this small, especially not Logan. “You were just convenient.”

You rear back like he slapped you. You think it might have hurt less than that. To know you wasted so much time on such a fucking dick makes you want to throw up. Or scream, or cry. You can’t decide on one. But your powers can, the walls are shaking, knick-knacks falling off your shelves as energy pulses from you. 

You’ll face the hurt, the sadness, the horrible ache of rejection later. Right now, you need him out of your face before you bring the whole mansion crumbling down around you. “Out.” You grind the word out, turning away from him and clutching your hands to your chest. You take in quick, rapid breaths, trying to think of anything other than how horrible you feel. 

You haven’t lost control like this in a long time. You’re not going to give him the satisfaction of being the reason you get put on probation again. He whispers your name, coming up behind you like he’s going to touch you. 

You want to lash out, want to hurt him like he’s hurt you. But you’ll only cause more damage than necessary. He’s not worth hurting the kids in the rooms around you. You shove past him, ignoring the way he shouts your name. 

You dart out into the hall, grateful there are so few people milling around. Nearly everyone’s asleep, just a few stragglers finishing up their homework for tomorrow. A few of them give you odd looks that turn concerned when they see Logan chasing after you. Your bones are practically vibrating by the time you make it outside. 

You rush towards the grove of trees at the back of the mansion. Your knees give out under you before you can make it very far. Energy pulses out of you in an explosive circle. You hear bark crack and turn into nothing but dust as the air around you trembles. 

It’s a relief, like going to the bathroom after holding it all day. You feel it drain away from you, a plug pulled out as the energy rushes from you. It slows after a minute, feeling more like a leak than a steady stream. 

Your hands shake by your sides as you lay trembling on the grass. Your eyelids flutter shut and you try and keep them open but it’s hard. All of your energy had been spent keeping yourself in check until you made it out of the mansion. 

“I’ve got you,” a voice mutters near your ear. Familiar strong arms dip under your knees, lifting you up and pulling you into a sturdy chest. You recognize the body, recognize the uncomfortable warmth coming from him. But your tongue won’t work and you're passing out before you can try and push him away. 

You’re in your own bed when you wake up again. You’re briefly comforted by the warm feeling of the sheets around you before you realize how cold the other side of the bed is. You’re so used to the feeling of someone being beside you that it’s jarring for no one to be there. You sit up, a spark of anxiety lighting up inside you before it’s being quelled by an outside force. 

“I think it’s best if we keep that under control.” You’re not surprised to hear Charles’s voice. You can’t be, not when he’s actively keeping you calm and placid. You lean back against your headboard. You tilt your head lazily, looking at him while he looks out the window. 

“That tree was a hundred years old.”

You wince, face screwing up when you remember the large oak tree you obliterated last night. “I can remake it,” you promise. 

“You could,” he corrects, “but whatever happened last night between you and Logan is causing your powers to be volatile.” He finally turns towards you, the motor of his wheelchair a dull buzz as he smiles at you. There’s no resentment in his gaze at least. You’d known he wouldn’t be mad at you. He was used to accidents like this. Had you hurt another person, however, this would be an entirely different conversation. 

There’s a dull ache in your chest at the mention of Logan, but it’s quickly covered by another wave of calm from Charles. He smiles and holds out two metal bracelets. They’re thick, something red inlaid into the black metal. They look like handcuffs more than anything. His lips quirk up at your thought and you frown. 

“That’s what they are, right? Cuffs.”

“You’re not a criminal,” he assuages, his tone gentle as you take them from him. There’s a small silver button inside that you click and the metal springs open. You place your left wrist inside and it snaps shut, it’s a snug fit. It won’t be moving around anytime soon. You put the right one on and feel Charles’ hold on your mind ease the second it's closed. Every horrible feeling from last night crashes down on you and you nearly choke on it. 

You wonder how Charles managed to keep you asleep for so long without the roof crumbling. He chuckles, the noise tired. “Jean helped me. It took a while for the cuffs to be ready.”

The way he says that causes alarms to go off in your head. “How long?” He takes in a sharp breath and shakes his head, attempting to dismiss the question. “Charles,” you snap, voice bordering on a shout. 

“Two days,” he says. You gasp and slump back against your sheets. He says your name but you get to your feet and pace. You don't know what to do with yourself. There’s energy buzzing under your skin, but the cuffs are keeping it at bay. It feels wrong like your pores are being clogged with acid. 

“Two days.” You look over at him, horror painting your face and you can see why he was so apprehensive to tell you. “It’s never been that bad before.”

“No,” he starts cautiously, “It hasn’t. Which makes me wonder, what transpired between you and Logan that destroyed my grandfather’s tree?” 

You cringe at the mention of the tree. He’s never going to let go of that. Even when you recreate it, he’s still going to hold it over your head. His teasing eases you out of the spiral you were heading down and you glance over at him. “You’ve been in my head for two days. I’m sure both you and Jean already know.”

He smacks his lips together and shrugs, clasping his hands in front of himself. “Simply seeing if you wanted to discuss it, my dear.”

You vehemently shake your head and sit back down on your bed. “No, I don’t want to talk about him. I don't want to see him.” Charles gives you a look like he doesn’t believe you and you hate it. You truly don’t want to see Logan again. Just thinking about him makes you want to explode. He was a pig and you regret ever wasting your time on him. 

There’s a shriveled part of your heart weeping somewhere, but you crush in your fist until it shuts the fuck up. “Right,” Charles nods. “I do believe it’s best for your recovery that we keep you two separated for a while.” He rolls past you and places a comforting hand on yours. “Rest, you’ll feel more like yourself soon.”

You nod and watch him leave. Exhaustion suddenly seems to drop its heavy weight on your shoulders. Two days being restrained by telepaths probably wasn’t very restful. You lay across your comforter, rolling over and hoping when you wake up your heart will be healed. 

Two weeks. Two pathetic, snot-filled, and disgusting weeks of sobbing over Logan. You felt like a sixteen-year-old again, crying over the boy that didn’t like you back. It was awful, especially knowing that the entirety of the mansion knew what was wrong with you. 

Your students would leave your class and you would lock your doors, hiding under your desk as you wept. Those with superhearing or telepathy would bake you cookies and leave gifts at your door. It was sweet, but honestly made you feel ten times worse. You felt like your sadness was a burden you were forcing everyone to carry. 

Your mother would be so disappointed in you. She’d always told you that you mourn a relationship half the amount of time you were in it. Of course, hers never lasted more than a few weeks. And she’d had more boyfriends than you could count on three hands. 

Besides, you were allowed to wallow for a while. This was someone you were starting to fall for. To be so blind going into and leaving the relationship was awful. Having the rug ripped out from under you had been cruel and needless. You’re resentful and grateful he’d been so horrifically honest with you. On one hand, if the relationship had just ended, you’d be pining after him. Wondering what you’d done to lose such an amazing guy. 

But being faced with the brutal truth, knowing he was a piece of shit, it makes you hate yourself. You should have seen it. Should have known that he didn’t want you like you wanted him. But there were never any signs. You’d run it through your head a million times. Every interaction you’ve ever had with him. None of it shows you where he’d been lying to you or using you. You can’t even trust yourself anymore. 

There’s a loud knock on your door and you sniffle, tossing another tissue in the trash as you go to answer it. “Hello?” You croak. You can barely see, eyes puffy and so swollen your vision is blurry. 

“Holy hell,” Ororo scoffs and shakes her head. She pushes into your room and slams the door shut before anyone can see how awful you look. To be fair, you keep yourself relatively put together during the day. But it’s after hours now, you’re allowed to be a mess. 

“You look like shit.” 

Neither of you are prepared as you begin to blubber. Your lips tremble and your voice shakes as you begin to sob. “I know,” you wail. “I hate it.” Ororo’s eyes widen in horror and she quickly pushes you into your desk chair, grabbing a box of tissues and shoving it in your hands. 

“I feel,” you stutter, having to take in a few shuddering breaths before you can get the words out. “He tore out my heart and ripped it up with his stupid fucking claws.”

“Okay, okay,” Ororo runs her hands over your arms, trying to soothe you. “I know, sh, it’s okay.” She groans, “Stop crying,” she pleads under her breath. 

“I’m trying!” You snap at her, running hands over your wet cheeks and trying to swallow down the rest of your tears. 

“Look,” she steps back and shakes her head. She glances down at you, disgust poorly hidden on her face. She’s really fucking bad at comforting someone. “This is awful, I can’t take it anymore. You two keep dancing around each other and you’re putting everyone on edge. You won’t stop crying and he keeps going off,” she holds her hands up and shakes her head. “I just can’t do it anymore.”

You frown, brows turning down in confusion. “What?” You didn’t think Logan would be mad. You pictured him skipping through a field of daisies, happy to finally be rid of you. It only made you hate yourself more that you were still crying over it all. 

“He’s kind of losing it,” she seems reluctant to relent the information. “Look,” she kneels in front of you and snatches the tissue box from your hand. She tosses it to the side and forces you to meet her eyes. “He’s in love with you. We all know it, Jean’s confirmed it. He loves you, he needs you, he’s just terrified to admit it. He’s afraid of what's going to happen if you two become real.”

Your eyes widen with the realization. She nods enthusiastically as you connect the pieces. You can’t deny what’s so plainly laid in front of you when she assures you that even Jean knows. Jean knowing means she just did a nosy dive into his head. 

You can picture what could happen. With rom-com levels of nauseating romance, you run to find him. You tell him you don’t care that he’s afraid. You don’t care he pushed you away and you do love him. He’s not going to lose you. Nothing can rip you apart. You ride off into the sunset on Scott’s bike blah blah blah. 

This isn’t a fucking romance. And you’re not going to cry over a man who's too much of a pussy to admit he has feelings. You like men who have emotional depth deeper than a teaspoon. “Are you fucking kidding me?"

Ororo’s face blanches and she slowly backs away from you as you stand. “No,” she answers slowly, like she’s not sure of herself now. 

“That’s what I’ve been crying over?” You feel upset for an entirely different reason. You never misread the signs. You never missed a hint that he didn’t feel what you did. He did! He was just happier letting you doubt yourself and the love you held for him than admitting he felt something. You tear off the depression hoodie you’ve been living in for the past two weeks. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”

You don’t know where you’re going. Normally, you’d run into a forest to let out a blast of energy. It drained you enough that you wouldn’t have to feel anything. But with these cuffs on, you can’t do anything. 

You storm out of your room and stomp down the stairs, uncaring who you wake up. You’ve wasted so much time on Logan, you refuse to stay in your room and cry for another fucking night. 

“I want to see her,” Logan growls. He tries to move around Charles, but he stops him with his mind, holding him in place while Jean disappears inside your room. Logan watches her go and glares at her retreating back as the door closes behind her. 

It’s been a day already, you’ve never needed to be out for more than a few hours. He doesn’t want to think that there’s anything wrong with you, that he might have permanently broken something inside you. 

That talk at the bar with Scott had been stupid. He would have said anything to get him to shut the fuck up and leave him alone. He didn’t really mean what he said, he just wanted him to back off. And saying that your relationship wasn’t anything was quicker than pouring out every thought he’s had of you. 

It was easier lying than it was to admit just how much he wanted you. Just how far he would go for you. But then you’d overheard, and you brought it up. And there’d been faith on your face. Like even you couldn’t believe what he had said because you could see through the bullshit. 

But all Logan had seen was a way out. This was an opportunity to finally get out of the suffocating clutches of something he didn’t want to admit was love. He took the chance before he could think. It’s what he was used to. Taking the easy way out, especially when it came to shit like emotions. 

He hadn’t thought you were going to explode, though. Because that’s exactly what you’d done. By the time he’d caught up to you, you’d burned a crater into the ground and had destroyed Charles’ stupid fucking tree. 

Seeing you like that, laying there lifeless, it terrified him. He didn’t want to live in a world that you weren’t in. There was no fucking point. It was sobering, realizing that, and then realizing that he was the reason you were like that in the first place. 

He didn’t want to live without you and he certainly would never be able to come to terms with being the reason you were dead. But it didn’t matter, whatever realizations he was coming to. Charles and Jean were completely blocking him from your room. They weren’t even giving him a chance to look at you. And he was about five seconds away from ripping the old bastard’s head off and just barrelling inside. 

He didn’t care what they said, he needed to see that you were okay. “I’m afraid you’re not going to be able to see her for a very long time.”

“Stay out of my head,” Logan growls, glaring down at the man. “What are you talking about?” He presses, finally processing the rest of his sentence.

Charles sighs and rolls away from him. Logan glares at his back but ultimately follows. “You were the cause of this, yes?” Reluctantly, Logan nods, there’s no point in hiding it. He’s sure Charles already knows. “For her own safety, the two of you will need to remain separated.”

That had been it. There was no arguing about it. No fighting Charles. It was for your safety that he stayed away from you. No matter how much he wanted to explain himself, he wouldn’t risk another meltdown like that. 

You didn’t deserve to get hurt because of someone like him. He wouldn’t be able to stand hurting you again. 

But two weeks seemed like a lot. At a certain point, he’s sure you’re just avoiding him. He knows he can’t blame you. He’d been a fucking idiot. But that didn’t make him any happier. If anything, he was getting more and more pissed off every day. 

He had less patience for mistakes. Was lashing out at the kids more often and don’t even get started on the petty fucking fights he was picking with Scott. How long did you fucking need before you talked to him again?

He knows you’re upset, your crying keeps everyone up at night. Something he’s sure you’d be mortified to learn about. Why won’t you let him comfort you? Why do you have to be so petulant, running around the corner every time you see him? Pointedly ignoring him when you’re in the same room together. 

He could fix this, make this all better. But you’re just not letting him. He knows this is why he loves you. It’s why he was so drawn to you. You seem like a bundle of nerves, constantly flitting around and keeping yourself small. It had been off-putting at first. And then he’d seen you training with Scott, kicking his ass more like. A switch had been flicked in his head. 

He could finally see you for what you were. He finally realized that it was your abilities you were keeping small. You were a fucking spitfire and you didn’t hesitate to tell him off, he loved it. Loved arguing with you just so he could see you get all pissed off. 

But that stubborn attitude he loved was really biting him in the ass right now. 

There’s a knock on his bedroom door and he doesn’t even get to pretend it’s going to be you. He smells Jean’s perfume and rolls his eyes. He puffs on his cigar and contemplates ignoring her.

“Don’t be a jackass, open the damn door.” 

Fuckin’ telepaths. “What?” He snaps at her the second the door is open. Her face screws up when she smells the smoke from his cigar. He knows she wants to put it out, and can see it in the twitch of her fingers. He raises a brow, a silent challenge to try him. He’s itching for another fight and she can feel it. 

She lets out a sharp breath, choosing her battles wisely and backing off. He’s almost disappointed. “We need to talk. This whole thing between the two of you is ridiculous. You’re a mess, she’s a mess…”

Her voice trails off into nothing more than the annoying pitch of a fly. Logan can’t be bothered to listen to her scold him. He’s not a fucking kid, and maybe if you were acting like an adult, they wouldn’t be having this problem. 

A few doors down he can hear you shouting, then the door to your room slams open. He darts off his bed, opening his own door to see what you’re doing. He only sees the back of your head as you angrily stomp down the stairs. 

Enough is fucking enough, he was finishing this now. He was sick of your side of the bed being empty and the stupid fucking glare on your face every time you saw him. He doesn’t even bother saying anything to Jean as he leaves, just chases after you. 

Jean watches him go with a perturbed look. She steps out of the room and glances down the hall. Ororo steps out of your room and walks towards her. “Well?” Jean probes. 

Ororor shrugs, “She’s over it.” Jean smiles but it’s quickly wiped off her face by Ororo’s expression. “Not in the way we wanted.

Jean clenches her eyes shut and takes in a deep breath. She needs you two to figure your shit out or she’s never going to be able to get a good night’s sleep again.

You find yourself in the gym. It’s not your favorite place in the world, you don’t usually get to train with the others. You’re stuck with telepaths, mainly the ones who can shut your powers down if you get too out of control. That hasn’t been a problem since you got the cuffs, but you’ve been too sad to test them out. 

Now you find yourself obliterating a punching bag. You wrap the energy around your fists and let it protect the thin skin as you pummel into the bag. You don’t know what else to do. You can’t have energy meltdowns anymore. You have to try and funnel it all out physically, but it’s not working. Nothing is. 

“Imagining it’s me?” You pause midswing. You glance over to the door just in time to see Logan stalking towards you. He unzips his jacket slowly. So slowly it almost seems provocative. He tugs it off and tosses it onto a nearby bench. 

You scoff as you watch him. “Do you ever have a shirt on?”

He shrugs and moves towards the ring in the middle of the gym. His movements are lithe and fluid as he hops onto the ring, every bit a wild animal. You watch as the muscles in his torso ripple and force your eyes off of him. You try and focus your attention back on the bag, but all your earlier energy is gone. Your mind is completely wrapped around Logan. 

Which you’re sure is exactly what he wants, or he wouldn’t be staring at you so smugly as he leans against the ropes and waits for you to acknowledge him. You suck on your teeth, irritation blooming in sporadic bursts throughout your body that has you nearly shaking. Finally, you give in. 

He smirks the second your eyes meet, “I can take it, sweetheart. A lot better than that little toy of yours can.” He nods towards the punching bag but the insinuation isn’t lost on you. You and Logan had been very active in your relationship. You could barely go a day without tasting each other. 

You’ve been pent up since the breakup. You’d given in a few days ago, pulled out your old vibrator, and tried to bring even a semblance of joy back into your life. But nothing could compare to Logan. 

His tongue darts out, wetting his lips as he waits for you to react. He’s standing there, staring down at you with all the surety in the world that you’re going to fuck him. It makes you want to dig your nails in and rip him apart, bit by bit. 

You can already picture it in your mind, using your abilities to pick him apart until he’s nothing but molecules dispersed through the air. He’s lucky you have the cuffs on, without them you’re sure he’d already be dead. 

You smirk and move towards the edge of the ring, your voice drops as you purr up at him, “You wanna play, Logan?”

He grins and moves off the ropes, starting towards you as you make your way onto the ring. You’re slightly less graceful than he was, but you’re too focused on wiping the smug look off his face to pay attention. “Come on kid,” he taunts, voice as low as it usually is when he’s fucking into you. “Let’s see what you got.”

You’re not stupid enough to just outright swing at him. You feint to the right and bring your knee up into his ribs. He only needs one hand to wrap around your thigh and drag you forward. His other hand goes to your hip, tugging you closer until you’re practically grinding against each other. You grit your teeth and glare up at him. 

“Come on, sweetheart, that can’t be all you got for me.” Energy wraps around your head, blurring the air around you. You slam your temple against his, it provides enough of a distraction for you to yank your leg out of his grip. You throw your right fist into his ear, bouncing back with a grin as he shakes his head. 

He practically growls as he reorients himself. You shrug and smirk, “What, don’t tell me that’s all you got, wolvie.”

“Don’t fuckin’ call me that,” he grumbles. You open your mouth, prepared to taunt him again. But he’s lunging towards you and you just barely have enough time to dart out of his way. You know he’s going easy on you. He could have had you just then if he really wanted this. 

But he’s dragging this out. Forcing you to spend as much time with him as you can. It only pisses you off further. You plant your foot on his back and kick him forward. He barely even stumbles and it only further confirms your suspicions. “Stop fucking holding back,” you yell at him. 

He turns around slowly. You almost expect there to be a sneer on his face, something angry. Instead, he looks fucking thrilled, like this is all just foreplay for him. He laughs, so low you can barely hear it, and his chest flexes as his claws come out. 

“You sure?” It’s a taunt, a dare, he knows you aren’t going to take the bait. You’d be stupid to, you don’t heal like he does. Once those things get in you, you’re screwed. But right now, you’re too pissed off to try and care. 

You don’t say anything, you just duck under his fist as he swings at you. You know he made it easy for you, giving you an opening to fall into. He’s treating you like you’re something fragile. And maybe you are. One wrong move in this fight and you might not make it through the night. But anger is making you blind to logic. 

Him playing fair just makes you want to play dirty. You use the opening he gives you, letting energy form around your fist and pulling back just enough to slam into his ribs. He coughs, doubling over as you hear bones crack under your hit. He’ll heal in seconds, you can’t bring yourself to feel too bad for him. 

Maybe if he ever took you seriously you might not be such a bitch. But he didn’t think you were good enough to be honest with and he still was treating you like a plaything. In your opinion, he deserves whatever you give him and more. He doubles over and you swing your leg around, bringing it down across his face. 

You hear a crack as your socked foot connects with his face, something crunches underneath you. And when your sole hits the mat again you see the blood leaking from his nose. You almost apologize. Almost, then you see the look on his face. His pupils are swallowing the hazel of his eyes, lips parted as he pants through his teeth. He looks fucking animalistic. 

You have no warning as he pounces on you. His lips smother your own, moving over you with little to no grace. There’s nothing romantic or gentle about this. His fingers are digging so hard into your shirt, you’re sure you hear the seams rip. But you can’t bring yourself to care. 

One of your hands goes to his hair, tugging at the roots until he’s groaning into your mouth. You rake your nails up his back roughly. He cusses against your lips, hand traveling up to your chin so he can roughly jerk you back. 

He stares down at you, a silent question on his face. You’ve barely nodded before he’s descending upon you again. Lips and teeth clash borderline painfully as he lowers you onto the mat. You’re missing all the usual love and tenderness he treats you with, but you don’t care. 

You want to be rough. You want to hurt him like he hurt you, make him ache for you the way you do him. You wrap your legs around his, lifting your pelvis until you have enough leverage to flip him. Your thighs straddle his waist and you grind down against the prominent bulge in his sweatpants. 

He groans into your open mouth, large palms grabbing at your ass and spreading you so he can thrust between your clothed thighs. You can’t help but moan at the friction. It’s just enough to keep you on edge, he pulls back every time you think you might be close to something real building. 

You rip your mouth off his. He glares up at you as you grab his hair and yank his head back. You slam his head hard enough into the mat for it to echo through the room and he growls against your grip. You grin down at him as you slowly get off him. You make a show of stripping, enjoying the way his eyes track your movements. He looks like a dog, panting and waiting for his treat. 

You’re tempted to get yourself off, making him watch, and then leave him straining against his sweatpants. But you need this bad, need him to scratch the itch you can’t reach so you can finally get him out of your head. Neither of you are patient as he jerks his sweatpants down just enough for his cock to pop out. 

It’s already leaking from the tip like a faucet. You kneel, straddling his waist again. You don’t have to do much to slick him up. You pump him a few times before he’s gripping your wrist and jerking your hand away. “Get up here,” he commands, voice rough as he grips your hips. You don’t even get a chance to protest before he’s flipping you over. 

He grabs your thighs and wraps them around his waist. Your ass is off the ground, hovering above his lap as he lines up with your slit. You moan when the tip rubs against your clit. “Whose teasing now?” You grit out, glaring at him. 

His lips curl up, that insufferable smirk on his face before he slams into you. The attitude is practically fucked out of you as he starts pumping in and out. You groan, raking your hands down his chest. He fucking moans at the pain, blood blooming under your nails and immediately closing the further down you go. 

Neither of you are giving up this fight, you don’t want to lose, not even while you’re fucking. He pulls out of you and flips you over so fast you don’t even have time to whine. He’s back in you before you can blink, hips slapping into you in a way that you know is going to leave bruises tomorrow. You’re not going to be able to sit for a week and he knows it. His hands are groping at the skin of your ass, pulling you apart and watching the skin ripple as he fucks into you. 

You’re not going to last long. You’ve been too desperate, too pent up while you’ve been pissed off at him. He leans over you, draping himself across you lazily. You groan at the added weight, it only adds to the sensation, only makes you want him deeper inside you. “Thought you didn’t want me anymore, sweetheart.” He whispers in your ear and you flutter around him as his hand snakes around your waist, rubbing tight circles on your clit. 

You open your mouth but all that comes out is disjointed moans. You know there’s something sarcastic in there, and he must know too because he laughs at your pathetic mumbled sentence. “I don’t know,” he leans back and watches as he makes room for himself inside you. “Seem to need me real bad now.”

Your nails dig into the mat, energy leaking through your fingertips and warming up the canvas beneath you. You can feel it fluctuating, fighting against the cuffs the closer he brings you to the edge. “Fuck you,” the words escape you at a particularly deep thrust and you struggle to keep your eyes open. 

He pauses and you nearly cry at the loss of movement. “Sorry, couldn’t hear you. What’d you say? Stop?”

You glare over your shoulder at him  “Don’t you fucking dare, Logan.” You let your power push up against his back, forcing his hips to move again. He chuckles at the move, fingers creating figure eights on your nub. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart,” he protests, voice innocent. “Ah, fuck,” his voice is nothing more than low grunts and groans in your ear the closer the both of you get to your release. You can’t speak anymore, can’t think. You can feel it cresting higher and higher inside you. 

Your abilities are rising with your release. They’re pushing against the cuffs, fighting desperately against the control the foreign metal has on your powers. You can feel it, heat building up under your skin, like a tingling on the tip of your tongue that you just can’t reach. It’s Logan’s release that finally tips you over the edge. 

The way his breath catches and his hips stutter in their perfect rhythm as warmth floods you from the inside out. You can feel it, him, dribbling down your thighs and staining the mat beneath you. It has you clenching around him, pushing your hips back weakly while you let the feeling overwhelm you. You nearly black out. Two weeks without him hadn’t felt long until you remembered what you were missing. 

You lose your sense of time, dropping to the mat like your bones have gone liquid, dripping out of you. You can feel Logan draped over you still, his weight a comforting blanket that nearly has you drifting to sleep. Naked, in the middle of the boxing ring. He pulls out of you and you whimper at the loss. 

He shushes you, rubbing a hand up your spine and pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your temple. He wraps his arms around you, laying down and pulling you back into his chest. It takes a few minutes of quiet cuddling for you to remember what exactly led you down to the gym in the first place. 

You feel disgusted with yourself for giving in to him so easily. It’s clear what his plan had been. And you’d fallen for it hook, line, and sinker. You’d barely even fought against him. Of course, you could reason that you needed to get the tension out. This was the perfect way to funnel out your built-up energy. 

But you’re disgusted with yourself for giving in to him so easily. You just disregarded dignity and self-respect for a chance to get him between your legs. You were such a fucking idiot. No wonder this is all he wanted you for. 

“Shit,” you mutter, trying to pull yourself out of his grip. Your eyes widen as his arms tighten around your waist. He tugs you back down until he’s got you in what essentially feels like a headlock. He could easily pass it off as spooning, but it feels a little more demanding than that. “Logan,” you warn, the silent peace of the moment officially shattered. 

“Don’t,” he gripes. You can fight against him for as long as you want, but you’ll only tire yourself out. His arms are literally metal bands around you. “Let me talk and then you can run off.” You huff and wait, but he never speaks. Finally, you look over your shoulder and glare at him. “Well?”

You roll your eyes, “Fuck’s sake,” you mutter. “Alright, speak.”

You can feel his grin against the back of your head. If he didn’t have you in such a tight grip, you’d elbow him in the gut just to be petty. “I made a mistake,” you scoff and he keeps going. Stopping you from interrupting him with something bitchy. “You weren’t just something convenient to me, sweetheart.” he pauses and chuckles, “You’re a huge fucking pain in my ass.”

“Is this your idea of an apology?” You snap, “Because this is pathetic.” 

He doesn’t say anything and you’re tempted to snark at him again. But then the world is flipped on its side as he jerks you around and forces you to face him. Your chests rub together, the sweaty skin sticking together and bordering on uncomfortable. “You ever shut up?” He asks, but there’s no heat to the words. If anything he looks fond of you, and it makes you shift around, trying not to look him in the eye. But there’s nowhere for you to hide, you’re both naked and bare before each other. 

You’re as physically vulnerable as he must feel emotionally. And as much as this is a horrible way to display how he’s feeling, you’re starting to understand him a little better. You know why this conversation is so hard for him, why he can’t accept that someone truly loves him and he loves her back. 

But that’s not going to get him out of it. He’s still yet to say the words. Maybe if he manned up and said something real you’d consider forgiving him. You give him an expectant look and he sighs, forehead pressed against yours as he slumps over you. You want to pretend you’re annoyed at the contact, but you’ve been craving it since you ran away two weeks ago.

You’ve been desperate for this warmth that only he can provide you. Without realizing it, you nuzzle further into his chest, hands drifting up to wrap around his bare waist. Logan feels the tightness in him ease slightly at the way you curl into him. He’s got a shot, even if you try and tell him he doesn’t.  

It’s silent for a while, while you linger in the emotions of what just happened and he tries to find the right words. He leans down, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear and smiling against the shell of your ear. “I love you,” he whispers. 

You’d told yourself you’d only consider forgiving him if he said those words. But that’s only because you’d never thought he would actually say it. You didn’t think he was capable of admitting that to himself. It seems so out of character for him. But, maybe, you don’t know him as well as you thought you did. 

He pulls back, hand landing on your jaw and gently guiding your head out of his neck. He gives you an expectant look but you’re finding it hard to meet his eyes. You’ve been waiting for him to say that, but now it feels like you can’t. You’re still struggling to forgive him. He put you through so much unnecessary hurt just because he couldn’t face his own feelings. 

And now you’re struggling to do the same. “I want to say it back,” you tell him. “But how am I supposed to trust that the next time things get hard, you won’t lash out again?”

He frowns, an irritated huff of breath shooting out his nose. But you know it’s frustration towards himself. For letting you both get to this point because he couldn’t just say three words. “I’ll wait,” he promises. “For as long as it takes, I’ll wait.” 

You smile and nod, wrapping your arms around him and burying your face in his neck. You’re sure you’ll be saying it sooner rather than later. But what’s the harm in making him squirm a little? He deserves it. 

A/N: I don’t write smut, it’s literally in my rules. I think I stared at a gif of him for too long and some horny ass demon possessed me and made me write this. Forgive me, universe, I’m no better than a man.

end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[zorosdimples]

sort of a continuation of this post

“you have an rbf, my love.”

“an rbf,” your boyfriend echoes. the acronym sounds clunky rolling off of nanami kento’s tongue, and his frown lets you know that he’s never heard the phrase before.

“it stands for ‘resting bitch face.’ that’s what you have,” you explain carefully, stroking the back of his hand with a soft thumb.

kento’s brow furrows even deeper, voice slightly indignant as he asks all too seriously, “do i look like a bitch to you?”

you can’t help the laugh that escapes your lips. kento is the smartest man you’ve ever met, but he is woefully ignorant when it comes to slang. before you started dating, you had to explain to him what “lmao” meant; that was the first time he had ever heard of urban dictionary.

your boyfriend’s stare is intense as you attempt to describe his facial expression. “no—that’s not what the term means. basically, it means that your resting face looks a little…pissed, for lack of a better word.”

kento is quiet for a beat before clarifying, “so, i look stern most of the time?”

“yes, that’s it!” you agree with a snap. “stern.”

“i suppose that’s why people often say i look intimidating,” kento muses. he threads his fingers through yours.

“i think that’s a fair assumption.”

“well,” kento says, raising your hand up to his lips. “i will try to be more mindful of my demeanor.” he places a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

you shake your head. “don’t bother.”

“and why is that?”

the smile that graces your lips makes him fall in love with you all over again. “i love you the way you are—grumpy face and all.”

[vampirenicotine]

analyzing the lyrics for “long face” feat. lestat de lioncourt and realizing it’s a louis diss track (with love) is making me more unhinged by the second.

so we open with the gorgeous oooh oooh wah ahhh hypnotizing portion of this song that will stay in your head and where samuel thyne reid is also showing off his *cough* vocal talent.

next….

“why the long face? my pretty baby” — cause you know louis is a sad girlie but also so fucking beautiful and irresistible to lestat when they met he couldn’t possibly understand what louis would be sad about but also… he’s ready to comfort him ALWAYS.

“i got long fangs come appraise me” —lestat is talking about how he’s a vampire so come asess my value and also … fangs could be a metaphor for his pink pony so!

“bring your long stakes that doesn’t phase me” — lestat is saying you can talk shit about me louis and drive a stake through my heart but i still love you teehe.

“i’m an actor in my make up” — he’s saying i can play games too, louis.

“i’ll get fatter when we break up” —so he’s acknowledging the confidence issues he had over the 77 year break up and the break ups before which…. i don’t have the words to speak on otherwise i’ll die.

“why does it matter who i take up?” —he’s saying why does it matter who i sleep with in regardless to antoinette and it’s like love you king… but you’re crazy.

NEXT!

“another face, another year, another place, another tear, pick up the pace, rack up the fears, now we’re having fun.” — this is a little love letter to his cult (us) telling us to get amplified bitch it’s only the beginning

the instrumental break/oohing and ahhing just so immaculate tough cookie alex & larry really did that!

“i’m piano and you’re forte.” — so this lyric right here is what drove me feral because it has so many possible meanings and a few naughty innuendos. what im going to land on however is the fact that lestat is saying im piano because he can be used in whatever way louis wants to use him and he’s saying louis you’re forte (which means my strength) so he’s like idc what you say about me because you hold me together 🥹

“you’re allegro, i’m andante.” —THIS RIGHT HERE HAD ME ON MY KNEES. this is exposing their sex life in the best way because lestat is saying oh i’m your black tar heroin? ok noted and lemme match that because you’re allegro (which means energetic, fast, super active, loud) so basically he says i know you’re addicted to me because i was there. you’re wild in bed and you’re a screamer. he then says he’s andante (slow) because he likes to take his time and worship louis and really make love to him. BYE.

“we’re boléro, prostitué.” —and then he’s like just because i said we go slow sometimes first and foremost we’re freaks. we’re nasty and we’re unspeakable and well… thank you so much for those visuals queen de lioncourt.

“another taste, another year, another place, another tear, another chase, another sneer, without a trace, you disappear, pick up the pace, pack up the gear, gimme some face, a souvenir, here come the gays, here comes the fear, now we’re having fun.” — these bars are what’s going to give miss lioncourt her first grammy nominations because she is summarizing her relationship with louis and hopes for the future.

he’s also telling louis he’s giving him exactly what he wants. he’s chasing him. he knows louis is gonna sneer at him and be annoyed but come anyway. he’s saying you ghosted me after our reunion but im going on tour and you WILL be my rockstar girlfriend. you’ll kiss me (or the pink pony) before my shows as good luck. he’s saying we’re gonna be gay and proud, we’ll take over the world, cause the vampire apocalypse, scare bitches, and have fun. we own the night.

and finally for the song to end with lestat losing himself and moaning into the mic (coming, smirks) as he thinks about his chaotic plan to get louis back well… it’s just music to my ears. and i will listen to it again. and again. and again. and again.

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ rating for you lestat

signed,

your loving groupie.

[freshbeeth]

fuck it. off the hook songs + irl equivalents playlist

(link in title, tracklist below cut)

OtH first, IRL second

i will NOT be accepting constructive criticism

[aprityormarj]

Leona clubwear ssr fic

Synopsis: Leona, after a very tiring day from spell drive decides to be a clingy cat to his s/o

Tw: clinginess, leona is taller, a bit of possessiveness I guess?, no beta, bad grammar 👍

Author’s notes: yes I wrote an entire fic of leona that’s 1,232 words long while being a jack simp just to mess with @aivy-saur

Leona just wanted to take a nap today. He had to deal with extremely rowdy and uncooperative students in his club today, he was really annoyed with how some of the guys who were so full of themselves weren’t listening to him at all?! Leona made them do double the work out after a horrible practice game because of them. All of those things almost ruined his day, the saving grace for leona was the fact that his number 1 fan was watching.

How could his mood be soured when you cheer him on while watching, wiping his sweat off when he sits beside you to watch his club mates, and offering to get water for everyone while looking all cute like that. He desperately wanted to see his little herbivore again since club hours were over, he even forgot to change clothes.

He spots you not too far away, you were talking to Jack and Duece as they were both working out nearby to train their endurance. You notice jack’s fur suddenly standing up as he looks at something behind you agitated and before you could even turn around two hands touch your shoulders quickly pulling you into their chest, jack calms down and Deuce gets shocked at how fast leona suddenly appeared. You can feel his tail playing in between your thighs to greet you, his strong yet gentle grip on your shoulders, and how you could feel his chest with the back of your head, damp from practice. He combs your hair away in order to leave a kiss on the top of your ear, you can hear tiny groans escaping his throat while all of this happens. “Herbivore… are you busy…?” He sounds so uncharacteristically soft and gentle, you could even say innocent.

Jack and Deuce look at each other awkwardly, as if 2 little kids seeing something they shouldn’t have “um… we’ll just go now… we wouldn’t want to disturb leona…” said Jack, Deuce nodding as they both walk away flustered from what they just saw. You wave to them goodbye and before they’re even gone leona starts to wrap his arms around your armpits to draw you into a closer hug, kissing your jawline this time whilst he rubs his head on your neck. Unfortunately for leona you turn around to tell him how you still have some errands to do, he slouches down to your level and pouts, his tail swaying erratically out of annoyance, you promise him that they won’t take long to finish as you cup his face, which he uncharacteristically again leans into your touch like a clingy house cat. You can see the mess that is his damp hair he he rubs it against you, his cheeks feel surprisingly really soft as they glisten from his sweat, and his his pupils are massive orbs, almost consuming the emerald greens in his eyes, and yet none of this was able to prepare you for what’s gonna happen for the rest of the evening.

You 1st start to walk around campus to return some things with leona’s hand in yours, but he isn’t satisfied enough so it ends up with his hands on your shoulder, leaning in really close whenever you stop walking. Due to how close Leona was he would accidentally make you trip sometimes, but he catches you every time you fall though though, and then he would lift you up a bit to hug you and then place you down shortly after. If you ever tell him off about how he’s way too close, he would just pout and still continue to be super clingy regardless of what you say. If you ever need to take a restroom break, or do any activity that needs you to have your personal space he will begrudgingly let you go, although the moment you’re out of the stall he is back on your shoulders even while you wash your hands he is sticking to you like glue.

Finally when you were done with your errands and was about to go back to your dorm until leona stopped you “stay at my dorm room again… please..?” Well he’s been very adamant on sticking by your side today and also very affectionate, so might as well just say yes to the poor prince’s request. His tail stands up in approval of your decision and happily walks (pushes) you towards his dorm room. When you enter his dorm, the 1st thing he does is hug you, leaning his entire body weight on top of you causing you to fall down on your bed with his on top of you, chuffing and kneading against the bed, you comment on how uncomfortable his hugs were since he was still sweaty. In the current state leona is in right now he is way too lazy to take a bath or get a shirt to change himself, so the smart kitty decides to just take of his shirt, it’s a good enough compromise for him leaving you flustered in the process, he doesn’t really mind since he does find you cute when you’re all flustered like that. The orbs in his eyes grow even more, consuming the emerald colors in his eyes, completely turning round and black. He carries you around his bed in order to adjust both of you better, leaving kisses on your skin while doing so. He places you down gently and hugs you wrapping you with his arms and legs. He gently leaving licks and bites on the skin of your face while chuffing up a storm. He mumbles about how cute his little herbivore is and how much you make him happy, he can’t help but rub his face against your body while making all of the noises that a lion can make. He may not say it but he’s definitely head over heels for you and you alone and this is his way of saying it. You want to sit up in place to get a better view on leona, but instead he tightens the hug you’re in and gets up closely to your ear “stay… mine… my herbivore is mine… and mine alone…” he then grazes his teeth against your ear and chuffs again, chuffs that are only reserved for your ears. He wipes your arms down with his hands, he loves the feeling of your goosebumps, honestly he loves any reaction out of his little herbivore.

Welp I guess you’re trapped in his arms now and I don’t think you can overpower this cat man sadly 🧍‍♀️

When you wake up the next day, he’s still clinging onto you like glue so you can’t really rise up as well until he wakes up. When he wakes up though he noticeably gets a bit embarrassed (though he’s trying to hide it) “Herbivore… I’m sorry about how… clingy… I was yesterday…” he notices your smile and your red tinted cheeks which causes him to smirk and come closer to your ear again in a sensual manner, his tail wiping against your arms “unless you didn’t mind any of it…? I’d be happy to do it again all for my future princess~”

[atopvisenyashill]

Thoughts on the Alysanne is Maegor's daughter AU? I feel like it has some interesting potential, and it vastly recontextualizes different parts of Jaehaehae (I do not like him sjsjsjs) and Alysanne's relationship (such as Jaehaehae's treatment of their daughters) but I wanna hear what you think about it!

I’ve touched on this a bit before but since you actually want to hear my thoughts, allow me to present to you my Jaehaerys Is The Goddamn Worst, And Alysanne Annoys Me Too: An Essay lmao but my answer is basically “yeah all of what you just said.”

I think it makes Alysanne much more palatable (to me) as a character because as she stands, she just fixates on forcing her daughters through these fucked up marriages at too young an age bc it traumatized her to be married and pregnant at 15 too but she’d never admit that being a willing participant in her own kidnapping by her brother-husband was the single worst thing that ever happened to her, and because Alysanne doesn’t want to admit it (and Jaehaerys would never see it as wrong or a mistake) F&B really shies away from delving into the fact that Alysanne is as deranged of a mother as Cersei is. So as she stands, she’s very flat to me because she’s presented very flatly and inconsistently. She’s so in love with Jaehaerys, she’s maritally raped by Jaehaerys, she’s a loving and doting mother, she forces her daughters into marriages when they’re the same too young age she was, she accuses her teenage girls of being scheming whores then gets angry when her husband accuses their teenage girls of being scheming whores, and worst of all we are just told “Maegelle tells them to make up so they do” so we don’t know why Alysanne gets over all of this. What is the point of riding a dragon when you never use that dragon to protect your daughters from unwanted teen marriages? We’re just not given a good enough justification for why her behavior is so weird and frustrating towards her daughters.

Make her Maegor’s daughter though…most of her behavior as an adult makes more sense. Like a worse version of Rhaenyra’s childhood almost - a father desperate for a son, but lowkey obsessed with his daughter, who makes all his hang ups about his parents the problems of every woman around him, except Maegor is out here blood sacrificing and torturing and starting wars and forcing babies on wives he discards quickly and brutally. Then here comes Jaehaerys on a white horse green dragon to save her from the horror her life has become, and he loves her so much he runs away with her even though Alyssa says they shouldn’t marry because people won’t like it. And they have beautiful children, and a beautiful marriage, and build a beautiful kingdom.

Then her pregnancies start getting dangerous. Gaemon, then Valerion, die. Alysanne thinks of the shriveled up mutants she called brothers, if Maegor’s taint has passed to her. Her perfect husband ignores her no, and forces Gael on her. Alysanne remembers that he said nothing to Rogar when Alyssa died, merely wept. Then her daughters start to die. Daella, Alyssa, Viserra, all within a few years. Then Jaehaerys makes Saera watch as he murders her boyfriend, calls her a whore, and says Alysanne cannot follow Saera to Lys. Alysanne thinks of Maegor torturing the Harroways over Alys’ presumed infidelity. Jaehaerys says he’s sorry, and her daughter badgers her into forgiving him, and she remembers how she helped Jaehaerys badger Alyssa into forgiving Rogar. Not two years later, Jaehaerys passes over Rhaenys. Alysanne thinks of how she was never enough for her father, how she felt so superior to Rhaena banished to Dragonstone and resented by Aerea, yet there she is dragging Gael away from court because she can’t stand to be with Jaehaerys. How her father was surrounded by dead women and dead babies and how Jaehaerys is surrounded by his own dead daughters, but surely she did the right thing, surely Maegor was worse, surely the realm is better off? Is he right to pass over Rhaenys? Is she enabling a man just as monstrous as her father? She will never decide, because Maegelle will guilt her about keeping Gael isolated at Dragonstone, and Alysanne will do as she’s told, just like Rhaena, and Alyssa, and Jeyne, Elinor, Ceryse, Alys, and Tyanna, just like every one of her daughters.

I do get why Alysanne is Alyssa & Aenys’ and not Maegor’s. The weird Targ babies, the line not descending from Visenya, Jaehaerys and Alysanne being held up as the perfect Targaryen couple specifically because they are brother and sister and dragon riders. I do even think canon Alysanne is likely traumatized by her time as a hostage on Dragonstone, and the ensuing war, and the trauma bond that caused with Jaehaerys, and it makes her idolize Jaehaerys, and then he isolates her at Dragonstone so he can swiftly and safely marry, groom, and knock her up. It’s not like,,,, a fun time, and it’s enough to make anyone crazy and weird about their daughters, but I think having her father be Maegor makes Alysanne herself much deeper because it gives her, as the most beloved Targaryen queen, a blood tie to the most hated Targaryen king, and a marriage to the most beloved Targaryen king. It fits better with a lot of the themes of the main series (again, imo) - forcing the spotlight on the outsiders to see how the affect the story from behind the scenes. The fall of Aegon’s sons, and The Long Reign, not told from the PoV or to serve the PoV of any of the kings or princes, but of the queen that tied them all together.

[wickmitz]

— THE ELECTRIC-FEVER REMEDY.

[kinokoshoujoart]

CORRECT TAGS‼️‼️‼️‼️ @rn0na-lizard you are so so so correct….. my favorite ‘Normal Girl’ in hmds…….i almost never see anyone talk about these aspects of her let alone also love her for them as they should.

i feel like Leona/ DS lumina gets mischaracterized super often which is understandable bc out of all the DS candidates leona is the least like her ancestor (who i also love, for different reasons).

in AWL lumina was the only kid in the valley for a very long time, but many of the DS residents have lived in the valley their whole lives. while lumina had accepted her role as a proper young heiress by chapter 3 of AWL— and when DS begins Leona already at this point of her life— lumina still had a lingering sense of uncertainty and angst and loneliness and doubt, and unresolved worries about her parents. absolutely none of this is present with leona

in this world leona starts with Lumina’s 22 year old appearance, she’s just rich as hell and living her best life (as she deserves), she’s unabashedly shallow, puts herself first always, speaks so politely and affably yet she can be so casually cruel in the most genuine cute way and out of touch with reality and and i fucking love her and i’d die for her. my beloved girlboss girlkeep girlypop

more iconic Leona Moments

when muu/muffy asks for beauty advice leona’s recommendation is “this brand of mail order beauty cream is simply divine! and it was quite inexpensive too, just 100,000 G 🥰” everyone else looks uncomfortable and muu is like “you’re as frivolous as always….”

aside from the 3 who take literally half your money (Witch💖, moi, and thomas) leona and panama (romana) take the most money from you if they carry you home when you faint. just a couple of girl bosses holding on to their girlpire (btw shout out to sebastian, the only resident in the entire valley who carries you home for free)

neither panama nor leona attend the harvest festival, they send sebastian there by himself to test the food first lmao (if you poison it like the witch they’re harboring on their property requires you to do, sebastian is just like “i can’t serve this to Mistress Panama…”)

once again sebastian attacks mukumuku for her sake, this time not to make her a paintbrush but she told him to get her the best slippers and this was apparently the easiest way. sebastian gets fucking mauled btw

leona has hands down the best romance route in hmds. all her scenes are incredible but god the slow burn friends to lovers with your DVD player….

in her purple heart event she shows up at your house because she heard you have a DVD player, asks you to show her how it works, and then just leaves after she’s done playing with it

in her yellow heart event she has sebastian fetch van so she can buy a DVD player for herself but van’s like “i’m so sorry …. Pete… bought the last one….”

leona is so unable to stomach the idea of other people having things she doesn’t that she starts to cry and the only way to placate her is to tell her she can go to your house anytime she wants just so she can use your DVD player. that’s not a setup to a budding romance that’s her final heart event

it’s the most incredible romance arc in the world like girl you have infinite money you can just. buy a DVD player somewhere else?? “i want to watch DVDs at my house just like you!” leona you have three entire bedrooms

“rich girl love interest who has everything except love, win her heart by having genuine conversation with her”: done to death, tired, i don’t have time for that

“rich girl love interest who has everything except a fucking DVD player, win her heart by giving her expensive stuff and ‘relax tea’ and access to your DVD player”: audacious, intriguing, never been done before, innovative

if you deny her god-given right to access your DVD player she is like “Is that so……………Just let me be alone for a little bit.” incredible tragedy i understand. take as much time as you need to grieve darling

oh but her first heart event asks you to pick a side in an argument she’s having with panama and the correct answer is to say “sebastian is the one who’s wrong” (sebastian has said nothing wrong this whole time and yet both of them have just been yelling at him to shut up)

and her blue heart event is “help me find this heirloom necklace… boohoo…” and when you find it she’s like “perfect! now grandma won’t get mad at me. hmm, you seem pretty dependable…♡” augh she’s way too good at this…….!!! i’ll do anything for you!

when you propose she says “of course, i always dreamed of having a romance and a wedding♡” and says nothing abt how she feels about you <3

also if you marry her, once a week she goes to hang out at her ex love interest’s place for 6 hours straight and comes home saying “whew… i had so much fun that i must have lost track of time… i’ll hurry on home”

if you marry another girl she starts flirting with you like “I’m so envious of your wife, having such a fine husband… Pete.” (or whatever your name is)

i’ve become obsessed with her and romeo’s horrible trainwreck soap opera marriage since replaying cute in jp… it’s SO… i have so much to say about them that it should be its own post but i’ll just give the cliffnotes

shotgun wedding vibes. romeo is surprised by his own wedding. they’re childhood friends but he himself has never considered marrying her. her words to him at their wedding are “Make me happy♡” (command)

she understandably can’t stand his terrible table manners or his clothes or anything about him (except that she wants to watch him surf and have his child. but he instead walks in circles all day. coward) and he’s both really good at accidentally stepping on landmines and just ever so slightly majorly terrified of her after marriage (“but surely her angry outbursts are just her way of showing love hahahahaha” you’re going to die. she’s going to kill you). the only positive things they say about their marriage are extremely shallow. they can’t communicate with each other because romeo always says the Dumbest Shit obliviously and leona always responds by cutting him out of her life forever!!!!!! (for 5 seconds) while he has no idea what happened

they are both so melodramatic and they both just do nothing except make each other worse and run away from each other and push each other away but they can’t escape each other. neither of them ever has to grow or change if they marry each other because an elderly overworked man is sustaining both of their existences and neither of them can take care of themselves and i love them your honor

also romeo’s first crush as a kid was apparently her mom, and if leona falls for YOU she flirts by mentioning that sebastian says you look like the spitting image of her dead father. dear fucking god

they’re the epitome of “You're both just enabling each other's mental illnesses. You're both perfect for each other. Never change. Just never involve anybody else in what you've got going on.”

romeo really does feel like her stupid lackey. like the karen to her regina. they even had this dynamic in the games they played as kids… she was the Harvest Goddess and he was Servant A/Minion A (they might still be playing this game as adults…he calls her lady/mistress sometimes after marriage…)

btw leona’s best friend (wife) marivia is also just as… there’s an event where they just gossip about all the mineral town ppl and marivia says ann would win a gluttony contest and they both giggle

there’s also an event where marivia casually walks into Witch’s hut and just interviews her so she can write her into a novel. witch is left completely drained by this exchange. leona and marivia both are so chill about the horrible cruel villainess living in leona’s shed who wants the town poisoned and rewards you for killing animals and hurting yourself and is putting curses on everyone (and they’re right. she’s never done anything wrong in her life)

[its-not-sof]

feels like

mark smut + fluff (virgin!reader)

It wasn’t your fault you didn’t check the weather forecast that morning before you left for work.

As you stared up at the dark, angry sky, you contemplated the easiest way to get into your apartment building unscathed by the pelting rain. Instead of making a run for it, you sulked in your car, letting out a frustrated sigh.

You suddenly felt your phone buzz, and the face of your newly acquired boyfriend lit up the screen.

“Mark?” You answered his call, a hint of desperation evident in your voice.

“Are you okay, Y/N? Usually you’re back by now, so I already let myself in.”

You smiled warmly. It had only been a few months since you’d started officially seeing each other, but you felt so drawn to him immediately. He made you feel loved, safe and so happy. It was almost like a spare copy of your apartment key had just spontaneously made itself and appeared in your hands for you to give to him last week.

And boy, were you glad for it right now.

“Mark, can you do me a huge favor? I need you to grab my umbrella and bring it out to the parking lot. I’m going to get so soaked on my way in.”

Mark laughed.

“Of course, just give me a second, okay?”

Within moments, your boyfriend came into view, holding your travel umbrella precariously over his head in the windy storm. You steeled your nerves and quickly threw open your car door, taking off into a run towards him. Mark smiled and laughed, amused at your urgency.

“It’s just a little rain, Y/N,” he joked, calling out to you before you landed in his waiting arms.

Even your desperate sprint wasn’t enough to save you from getting drenched, your dripping clothes and skin clinging to your boyfriend’s jacket. When he stood for a moment without moving, you pushed against his chest.

“What are you waiting for, get inside!” You urged, huddling as close as possible to him.

Mark laughed again and pulled you close, teasingly hovering the umbrella just out of your reach for a moment before returning it over your head.

———

“If I catch a cold, it’s going to be your fault,” you huffed, ringing out your soaked hair in the kitchen sink. “From now on, I’m revoking your ‘holding the umbrella’ privileges.”

Mark smiled, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and pressing a kiss to your cheek,

“You know I’ll be here to take care of you,” he mumbled. “No promises on changing my umbrella technique, though.”

You playfully swatted at his arms, laughing as he quickly tickled at your sides before releasing you to resume your work.

It had taken you a moment to remember that your clothes were completely soaked through. The drenched garments clung to your figure, and your white shirt became particularly see-through.

You turned to face Mark, finding him staring at you intently. You met his gaze and found the most adorable blush dust across his cheeks.

“Oh, don’t mind me— just enjoying the view,” he murmured.

Now it was your turn to blush. You had never undressed in front of Mark before. In fact, there were a lot of things you’d never done before. But the way he looked at you and the way the flirtatious comment rolled so easily off his tongue made you want to try.

Mark sensed something off in your reaction, and immediately backpedaled.

“You should get changed, love. You’re really going to get sick if you keep those on,” he said, a comforting smile gracing his features.

You felt a feeling of boldness bubble up inside your chest. You sucked in a quiet breath.

“Do you… want to help me take these off?” You whispered, letting your eyes meet his and impart your desires where your words lacked. Mark’s eyes widened in return, eyebrows raised at your sudden boldness.

“I mean, yes… yes please,” he purred. His tone shifted, only slightly to one of gentle concern. “Are you sure?”

You held his gaze, without faltering.

“Yes,” you breathed, pulling him in for a passionate kiss. “God, yes.”

Mark instantly pulled you impossibly closer, tangling his fingers in your wet hair, kissing you back with a fervent desire. His hands trailed down your back, brushing against your spine. You weren’t sure if your shivers were because of the cold, or the way his skin made contact with your bare back.

You pulled away only slightly, looking him in the eyes again.

“Can we do this in my room? I just— I’ve never—“ you sighed. “I’ve never done this before,” you admitted.

Mark smiled sweetly, reaching a hand up to cup your cheek.

“Oh, Y/N,” He pressed another kiss to your lips. “Yes,”he took your hand, allowing you to lead him down the hallway.

You pushed open your door, turning to face him before crashing against his lips again. You ran your fingers through his hair, hoping your enthusiasm would make up for your lack of experience.

Mark took the lead, taking your bottom lip between his teeth and pulling gently before reaching for your waist again.

His nimble fingers slipped underneath your soaked shirt, sliding it up slowly. You pulled away for a moment to help him rid you of the wet garment. Mark’s eyes fell to your lace bra, perfectly showcasing your soft breasts. He let out a gentle puff of air before he reached for them gently.

“Tell me if you need me to slow down or stop, okay?” He whispered sincerely, gingerly caressing your skin. You nodded and placed your hands on top of his, guiding them to your chest.

Mark’s hands cupped your breasts, slowly massaging them and quickly finding your sensitive peaks through the lace. You let out a soft sigh as he began to tease them between his fingers.

“Mark…” you sighed, feeling a warmth begin to form in your core. You pulled him closer to you, and in turn, closer to your bed. He took the hint and pressed your body down into the mattress.

He reached behind your back to unhook the lace garment, and his eyes widened as it fell from your shoulders.

“Y/N… god, you’re so beautiful…” he whispered, thickly.

“Mark, please, I need you so bad,” you responded, placing his hands back on your body.

Mark didn’t waste any more time as he let his fingers stroke your soft skin and attached his lips to your exposed neck. You leaned back and threaded your fingers through his hair, keeping him in place. He sucked hard enough to bruise, soothing your raw skin with the tip of his tongue before continuing down your chest.

He stopped at your perked nipples, looking up at you before taking one into his mouth, sucking and licking at it until he heard you moan.

“Y/N, that is the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard,” he purred. Your face flushed, and you refused to meet his gaze.

“I hope I get to hear that again tonight,” he smiled as he began to lavish the other breast with the same attention.

You felt a slickness begin to blossom between your legs, and suddenly your wet jeans became even more uncomfortable than they were before.

“Please, get these clothes off me,” you begged, scratching lightly at his shoulders.

Mark complied, carefully unzipping your jeans and sliding them down your legs. His fingers brushed against your thighs, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

He took a moment to take in your beauty— topless, flushed, soaked panties, and pert nipples. He’d never been harder in his life, he thought.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered.

You felt your heartbeat race as more of your clothes came off, almost entirely exposing yourself to him. You reached forward and slipped your hands underneath his hoodie, urging him to take it off.

He complied, swiftly removing the garment over his head. You immediately pulled him closer, running your hands over his exposed chest and shoulders.

“You’re beautiful too, you know,” you whispered, giggling softly. Mark smiled into your shoulder, leaving kisses there before pulling back to look into your eyes.

“Y/N, I want you to tell me if anything is uncomfortable, or if I’m going too fast, okay? Promise me?”

You nodded, kissing him gently. Mark smiled, and carefully prompted you to spread your legs.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he hummed, softly tracing the outline of your folds through your thin, soaked panties. You shifted your hips slightly, swallowing hard as he found your clit and began to circle it.

Your breathing began to quicken as he continued with his agonizing pace, softly teasing you.

“Mark, please,” you whined, grinding down into his touch. Mark laughed softly.

“Okay, okay,” he cooed. His fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties and slowly slid them down your thighs, exposing your dripping center.

You felt the urge to close your legs, suddenly embarrassed at him staring so intently at your most intimate area. Mark’s hands gently coaxed your thighs back open.

“Don’t be shy, love,” he murmured.

You shifted again, relaxing your hips and allowing your legs to fall open for him.

“That’s it,” he whispered, soothingly tracing your skin. He began to lower himself down onto the mattress until his lips were inches away from your core.

“Can I?” He requested, soft breaths fanning across your flaring heat.

You nodded quickly, sucking in a shallow breath.

Mark smirked and slowly licked a stripe up your folds.

“A-ah!” You sighed, squirming already at his touch.

Mark eased your thighs over his shoulders and held you in place while he gave a gentle suck on your most sensitive peak.

“M-Mark, oh god,” you jolted at the unfamiliar sensation, but immediately found yourself longing for more.

“Let me know if it’s too much, okay?” He soothed, diving back in with gentle fervor.

You threw your head back onto the pillows as he began to suck and lick mercilessly at your heat, fingers massaging your inner thighs.

A gasp escaped your lips as his tongue began to flicker quickly across your clit, your hips bucking off the mattress. Mark’s hands held you in place, not allowing you to shy away from the pleasure.

Your breaths became ragged and heaving in between long, languid moans. You could almost feel Mark smiling as he kissed and hummed against your sensitive center.

“Mark, I-I’m getting close,” you whispered, locking your legs around his shoulders. You slid you eyes closed and focused on the feeling.

His lips closed around your sensitive peak once more, sucking hard and circling it with the tip of his tongue. The sensations became too much as his mouth pushed you over the edge for the first time.

“M-Mark!” You cried, feeling him tease you through your orgasm as your walls fluttered around his tongue.

Your chest heaved with uneven breaths as you came down from your high. You opened your eyes and saw Mark’s smiling face looking up at you from between your legs, his lips glistening with your release.

“Felt good?” He murmured, gently stroking your thighs. You giggled softly.

“God, yes,” you ran your fingers through his slightly disheveled hair, tucking a few strands behind his ear. “But, I want to make you feel good too, Mark,” you whispered, scratching lightly at his scalp.

Mark’s eyes were gentle yet full of lust. He knew exactly what you wanted from him.

“Are you sure, Y/N? I don’t want to hurt you.”

You looked into his eyes and leaned forward to press a kiss to his lips.

“Yes. I’ve never been more sure of anything,” you promised.

Mark released you from his hold and crawled back up to kiss your neck.

“Okay, love,” he murmured. “We’ll take it slow, okay?”

You nodded, pulling him close and tracing your fingers across his bare back. You felt him grind his clothed hips gently across your core, and you felt him.

“Just do it, Mark,” you begged, palming him through his sweatpants.

He hissed as he felt your touch, and his reaction sent another wave of arousal through you.

You quickly freed his length from his clothes, and you tried to hide your intimidated reaction as best you could. He was bigger than you expected.

Mark sensed your hesitation immediately.

“We don’t have to do this now,” he murmured, gently stoking your cheek. You shook your head.

“No, I want to. Please?” You asked, looking up at him with confident eyes. Mark leaned in to kiss you slowly.

“Okay. Please stop me if it hurts, Y/N,” he said. “Promise?”

You caught his lips in another quick kiss.

“Promise.”

Mark nodded and carefully returned to your core, swiping his fingers along your folds before inserting one slowly.

You winced slightly at the unfamiliar sensation but quickly relaxed in his gentle hold.

“You okay?” He asked, gently making a ‘come hither’ motion with his index finger inside your walls.

You gasped, nodding quickly, adjusting to the feeling before he added another finger.

“God, you’re so wet, Y/N…” Mark leaned in close to whisper in your ear as his fingers sped up. You could hear a the faint sound of your arousal coating his digits.

“I’m ready, Mark, I promise,” you huffed, your breathing growing heavy again.

Mark placed a kiss behind your ear and trailed down your neck before removing his hand. A string of your wetness clung to his fingers, and he immediately dragged them across your swollen clit. You squirmed, waiting for him to give you what you really wanted.

“Mark…” you whined, shifting your hips impatiently.

“Alright, pretty girl. Just relax for me, okay?” He murmured, spreading your legs a bit wider and positioning himself at your entrance.

You braced yourself as you felt his tip against your folds. You unconsciously tensed a bit, preparing for the impact.

“Relax,” Mark whispered soothingly, massaging the backs of your thighs. “I got you, okay?”

You nodded and released the tension in your hips.

“Good girl,” Mark purred, feeling your muscles relax.

You hissed at the quick, dull pain as he began to push into you. You couldn’t help the quiet whimper that left your lips as you felt him stretch your entrance for the first time.

“Are you okay? Do you need me to stop?” He asked, running his fingers through your hair and looking deeply into your eyes.

You shook your head, trying to ignore the tears prickling your vision. Blinking them away, you met his gaze again.

Mark brushed his thumb across your flushed cheek, catching the tears that fell.

“Just a little bit more, you’re doing so well for me, Y/N. Relax and breathe, okay?”

You smiled at him, urging him to continue. He carefully pushed into you again, causing you to let out another whimper.

“I got you, I’m right here, okay?” Mark soothingly stroked your thigh and cupped your cheek, talking you through his every move.

You soon felt his shallow thrusts beginning to bring a slow wave of pleasure to your core, and he slipped a hand down to gently circle your bundle of nerves. You bit your lip and cling to him tightly, your nails digging into his bare shoulders.

“Y/N, you feel so good,” he groaned, losing himself in your tight hold. “Talk to me. What do you need, love?”

Your mouth fell open as he sped up slightly, moving at a still slow but sensual pace.

“I-It feels good,” you cried. “Please, Mark, don’t stop.”

Mark continued his thrusts, holding you close and whispering soft praises in your ear. It wasn’t long until you felt another high approaching.

“I-I’m gonna— I think I’m—“

You moaned softly as your walls fluttered around his length, and simultaneously bringing him to climax along with it.

“Y/N!” Mark cried, pulling out quickly and releasing across your bare stomach.

Mark’s shoulders heaved as he came down from his own high, taking in the sight of you before him. You looked at him and began to laugh.

“Mark… I can’t believe—“ you smiled and pulled him in for a passionate kiss.

Mark beamed at you, his eyes full of love.

“You did so well,” he murmured, stroking your cheek and brushing a few stray hairs away from your face. “My beautiful girl. I’m so lucky to love you.”

You giggled at his words, feeling like you were floating on air. Mark got out of the bed and quickly returned with a warm, wet towel, gently cleaning you up.

You couldn’t deny the dull pain that still ached in your core. Mark saw you wince as you shifted your hips slightly, and reached out to massage your inner thighs.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, did it hurt too bad?” He asked, a bit panicked.

You shook your head.

“No, no— it’s not your fault.”

Mark refused to let go of your gaze, not convinced.

“Let me run you a bath, okay? Your hair is still wet from the rain, we should get cleaned up anyway,” he insisted, carefully removing the wet towel.

You nodded. He was right.

“That sounds amazing,” you sighed, smiling at him.

Mark leaned in for another kiss before heading to the bathroom.

You watched him walk away, then pause and turn to look at you before reaching the bedroom door.

“Hey. I love you.”

You smiled, almost giddy.

“Hey. I love you too.”

[erytherion]

Reading the webtoon and…

Does this imply that Kim Dokja also tried to write a questionnaire for her to fill in since she wouldn’t speak to him, that either he 1) never gave her in the end (especially if he couldn’t find her after she was released) or 2) gave it to her and she STILL refused to answer?

Because that is so so so so awful. It was already bad but if he tried so many ways to get her to speak and she still gave him no response, regardless of her reasoning… isn’t that still directly choosing to cut herself fully out of his life? Why in the hell did she lie for his sake and allow him to visit her if she wanted to never speak to him again?

I know everyone claims Kim Dokja is just like her in sacrificing himself for loved ones, but at least he tries his best to stay with them and to keep them in his life. He still chooses sacrifice, but it’s not because he intends to never return. He always returns (even if much later than planned).

The only time this differs is with 51%, when he STILL tried his best to stay with them - at least as much as he could.

I sometimes like Lee Sookyung, but I am mostly still SO mad at her for completely ignoring her child since he was 8 years old. Especially when he must have looked like shit any number of times from being mistreated and bullied by family, friends, army, employers.

But maybe that’s just the fragment in me being eternally pissed with her. She DOES love him, but like he says in the webtoon in this chapter - maybe such truths are painful enough to be false anyways, because they’re just SUCH bullshit. That’s not how affection should work, if you actually care about someone and want them to be happy.

[fortune-maiden]

Random TGCF AU of two days ago actually but it won’t leave me alone

Beefleaf AU where HX accidentally gets SQX pregnant… and revenge has to be put on hold because Shi Wudu loves his nibling a lot and is doing 90% of the childcare

[project-sekai-facts]

teeth anon how does it feel to be insane,

anyway i cheaked and beat eater meiko also has teeth on her top and bottom jaw . rin and shiho have fangs in their twighlight parade cards. shiho also has teeth in her wolf card. i didnt notice any other women teeth though.

also tsukasa doesnt have teeth sometimes but the fact is he useally does have teeth in basically every other card where his mouth is wide open. if anything kaito and len have far less consistant teeth

also for what its worth mizuki doesnt have teeth

The Twilight Parade and Halloween cards I think are meant to be cosplay fangs because Shiho and WxS Rin aren’t depicted with fangs outisde of those monster type costumes (I’ve got a post about fangs queued for later in the month so you’ll be seeing this again later). Other than that this is pretty interesting.

I reckon it might be an artist thing. Like how the red line around Rui’s eyes isn’t consistent between being eyeliner or eyelash, or Airi’s fangs switching sides. Gonna assume that the official style guide is teeth for dudes and no teeth for girls but some artists just don’t follow that if they think the card looks better with/without them.

[cancerravenclaw]

How to Seduce a Succubus

explicit, 14.5k. dubcon, somnophelia, succubus sirius black, psychiatrist remus lupin

Sirius was the most worthwhile cause for insanity—his body an asylum for Remus’ daydream delusions, the remedy for his maladies. Haywired neurotransmitters commanded by his touch, reprogramming his neurons to flood their synapses with an alien ecstasy human consciousness couldn’t touch.

He’d beg to be committed, locked away without a key, if it meant more of this.

Crazy and content—sex so good he’d give his sanity for it.

a little something sweet for the marauders who prefer treats over tricks on halloween.

for the one and only @maladaptivewriting

[weirdcursedvaultkid]

since merula likes thoughtful gifts I’d like to share my hc that merulas develops a lil baby crush on mc ever since the Christmas sq where mc gifts she the song book