#i wrote so much and still didn't say everything I wanted to

[sniperct]

Oh the sets are absolutely breathtaking, and they do a lot of on location shooting for the outdoor scenes.

And I just found this article that talks about the care that went into designing Numenor.

Well, I think there are two elements that actually set the signposts for Númenor. One was this letter that Tolkien wrote where he says, "Gee, I just got back from Númenor. Oh, I mean Venice." Venice evokes a certain sensibility in our heads, that there's a sense of wealth, a sense of beauty, a sense of lots of history, that it's been built up over time. Plus water, a lot of water. The other element is this sense of it as the Atlantis of Middle-earth. In the third age of Middle-earth [the time period that ends with the events in "The Lord of the Rings" films], we see what leftover elements there are of Númenorian architecture and culture — we see Minas Tirith and Osgiliath — and we know that what those things look like. In my head, the idea was that those are the ghosts of Númenor.

One of the decisions that I sold the showrunners on early is that elves didn't have bound books — they didn't invent book binding. We know that Elrond has books in the Third Age, but that doesn't mean that they had books in the Second Age. So, I wanted to tell the story that Númenorians invented book binding, and that this storage of older information, everything would have to be scrolls. I looked at a bunch of Tibetan storage, because of the scrolls, and I thought, "Wow, that's really cool because now we can have this whole space that's filled with scrolls." Everybody talks about how much money we had, and we certainly had money, but we didn't have all the money in the world. And we also didn't have all the stage space in the world — we were still challenged to get things done with the amount of money we had. So this set actually is a repurposing of another set, and we needed some way to hide the walls of the other set. The scroll cabinets broke up the back walls and gave us a layer that hid the other set. Those walls actually get used as three different sets in the series.

We developed a couple of infinity symbols, and there's a broken infinity symbol. That gets repeated throughout the streets, and in the alleyways, there are these little columbaria, which are these little niches where the ashes of the dead are put, and there are little shrines to them. So literally, the city is built upon the dead of the Númenor, and you have that sense of death underwriting the whole culture. Some of the graffiti has to do with those types of storytelling as well.

Whole article is worth a read, but those are some highlights.

Okay, also, the cinematography of that last episode of The Rings of Power....did this, apparently?

Sure, you go ahead and have the whole set dim to transition. This would be easy enough to do digitally, but, sure, you can use The Volume and a practical set to just...turn off the lights in a day-to-night shift. Have extras start running around in a panic. Make the camera crew walk around with him. Account for the firelight. Sure. Fine. Yeah. Totally. A movement I could conceive of in cinema. Why not?

[lostbookmark]

MDNI 🔞

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Summary: You thought planning your wedding was going to be a magical memory. You didn't realize that it might make you second guess everything.

Pairing: Fiancée Yoongi x Insecure F. Reader

Genre: Romance, Angst, Smut, Hurt-Comfort

Warnings: Explicit Sex, Toxic Family Dynamics, Arguments, Talk Of Sex Toys, Self Doubt, Over Thinking, Yoongi Overworking Himself, Possible Food/Body/ Eating triggers.

A/N: I rewrote this damn chapter about 50 times. See the author's note at the bottom to see how it was originally going to end!

A/N 2: I accidentally deleted chapter 8 and couldn't recover it. I swear I almost deleted my whole account because I was so mad. I wrote it again, and it's actually much better than the first one.

You look in the mirror as you try on your fifth outfit that consists of jeans and a nice sweater. You felt ridiculous that you were this concerned about what you were going to wear. You were just meeting your sister, not going on a date or anything. It shouldn't feel like a big deal as you're making it out to be, but it was. You had a feeling this meeting was either going to get the two of you on track or say goodbye forever. Honestly, you don't think you're ready for either of those options.

“What happened here?” Yoongi said as he came into the bedroom and saw the mess you created.

Your clothes were thrown all over the room after you tried them on and discarded them in frustration. Random shoes lie by each other, nowhere near their matching mate. You didn't care, though. You only cared about trying to look your best without making it look like you were trying.

“I can't decide what to wear,��� you tell him and throw your hands up in frustration. “Do I dress up? Do I just wear jeans? She's going to be dressed perfectly, I know it.”

“It's not a business meeting,” he comments, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your middle. “You don't even have to go.”

“I want to hear what she has to say to me,” you say. “I just, I need to do this.”

“I'll come with you,” he mumbles into your neck.

“No,” you whisper.

“I'll sit in the car and wait,” he offers and makes eye contact with you in the mirror.

You turn and wrap your arms behind his neck, hugging him. His own arms tighten around your waist, not wanting to let go as he buries his face further into your neck. His lips press against the smooth column of your neck. You were so thankful that you had him, but you had to stop relying on him so much.

“I don't want you getting hurt,” he says quietly. “We both know how she is. With how you have been avoiding your mom, I can guess what your conversation is going to be about.”

“Yoongi, I promise you that if it gets to that point. I will walk out and be done with her. I promise. I have to do this on my own. It's important to me that I do this on my own,” you tell him.

“Come to the studio when you're done,” he tells you, finally giving up on convincing you to stay home. Moving his face close to yours, he rubs your nose with his own. “Will you do that?”

“Yes,” you whisper and press your lips against his. “I’ll be fine.”

You look out the window at the coffee shop where you sit and wait for your sister to show up. They have various colors of red and pink hearts cut from paper taped to the windows in honor of Valentine's day coming up. You wonder if you and Yoongi will do anything that day, but you know you probably won't. It's okay, though. You don't really think that it's that important of a holiday. Last year, he made you dinner followed by the rest of the night in bed. You chuckle to yourself, thinking back to what Lisa had said. Maybe you will take a picture of what's hidden in your closet to intince him to come home that night. No, you're still too embarrassed just thinking about it.

You turn your attention to the glass of water on the table that you ordered when you sat down. It was cold in your hands as you played with it, turning it around and around as the ice clanked against the clear surface. You are not much of a coffee drinker and only drank it socially when you felt like you had to. Jisoo and Lisa need their tall latte, something with extra pumps of stuff to drink every day to survive. Yoongi drinks his black, and it takes like dirt. Much like flowers, you never understood the appeal of coffee and why people liked it so much. Maybe it was the caffeine or just the routine of having it every morning. You check your watch and see you have been waiting for ten minutes, but it sure felt like hours.

The bell to the entrance of the coffee shop jingles as you see your sister finally enter and look around the shop for you. When she spots you, you see her take a deep breath and walk over to the table in the far corner where you sat. There weren't many people around you, you thought that was for the best. As she sits across from you, you sit up just a little straighter in your own chair, straightening your posture. The server comes by and takes her order before either of you can say anything to each other. She ordered some soy something, and it sounded nasty.

"I'm surprised you actually texted me back,” she said, looking at you as she pushed her perfectly smooth hair behind her ears. It didn't seem that she was nervous at all, or she was at least good at covering it up.

“Me too,” you say truthfully as your foot under the table starts to tap quickly. “What did you want to talk about?”

There's a heavy silence that passes between you two as you stare at each other. You break eye contact, and you let your fingers grab a brown paper napkin that was in front of you. You roll it up and unroll it, over and over again, just to keep your hands busy. You wish you could at least appear half as confident as she looks. You both smile at the server, who brings the drink over and places it in front of her on the table. You watch as she takes a sip and places it back down on the table.

“Mingyu and I have been going to couples therapy for the last few months. It was his idea. He admitted during a session that our family dynamic is making him have second thoughts, and he is afraid to have a family with me,” she tells you. “He doesn't like how mom hovers or how you and I don't talk. I promised him that I would sit down with you and try to talk this out. See if we can repair our relationship.”

“Here I am,” you say, and she nods her head.

“I’ve thought about what I wanted to say to you for weeks before I finally got the courage to reach out to you, but now I don't know anymore. Now that I'm here in front of you, it all sounds stupid.” she admits. Her fingernails lightly tap a steady rhythm on her coffee cup. “I even wrote everything down and rehearsed it, but it still just comes out all wrong.”

“Just say it,” you urge, and your fingers grip the napkin harder. The ware on it starts creating small tears in the thin brown material. You were both nervous.

“As much as I don't want to admit it. I’ve been thinking about it a lot and…” she whispers, staring at her coffee and stirring it with her spoon. “I think I was jealous of you.”

“What?” You ask, your voice full of disbelief and face full of confusion. Your sister is jealous of you? There was absolutely no way that you heard her correctly. “What do you mean?”

“She was always so overbearing with me. She had to control everything in my life. I had such high standards to live up to, and I had to work so hard to get there because I couldn't let her down. She told me all the time that I couldn't let her down. If I wasn’t the best, I was letting her down. I had to come first in everything. Etiquette classes, pageants, dance, student council, valedictorian ….” she trailed off, remembering everything that she had been a part of. “I had to be perfect but not you. She left you alone, and I HATED you for that. I hated that you didn't have to put in all that hard work that I did. I hated that you could make mistakes, and I couldn't.”

“You were jealous that I was ignored and yelled at?” you ask, scrunching your face at her. “What are you talking about?”

“Yes…no,” she looked frustrated as she looked up at you. “Remember when we would go camping at grandma and grandpa's cabin?”

“Yeah, the whole family went. You hated going,” you answer, wondering why this was important. “You looked miserable the whole time.”

“No, I didn't hate it. I was just never allowed to do anything. You got to go play with our cousins running around outside in the woods and I had to sit with mom because she didn't want me to get dirt under my nails or god forbid any scrapes that could be seen from a stage. You got to go to birthday parties and sleepovers. I couldn't because she always had to make sure that was sticking to my diet. I had to make sure I could fit in all my costumes at all times. She made every decision for me, but you…you got to do whatever you wanted,” she explains. “My whole life revolved around her and making her happy. All my decisions in life before I moved away were all made by her. I don't even think I know who I really am. I only know the person she crafted me to be.”

“I didn't know things were like that,” you told her softly.

“When I got to college, I almost had a panic attack because I didn't have her there with me telling me what to do. It was like I got so reliant on her, and I was scared,” she said with a sad smile. “Then I met Yoongi.”

You squirm in your seat at the mention of his name. Deep inside, you hoped that you could avoid any conversation about him. Unfortunately, you know he is a big point of contention right now, and he wasn't going to go away. He was going to be in your life forever, but there was no way you could possibly ever think about picking your sister over him if you were forced to choose.

“What about him?” you ask nervously, biting some loose skin on your dry lips.

“It was like….he was the first thing that was all mine,” she said thoughtfully.

“Thing? Do you hear yourself?” You ask, your jaw dropping a little. “Yoongi isn't a thing. He is a person.”

“I know that. You know what I mean,” she snaps a little bit but takes a breath and calms herself. “It was so great at first. We would go out on dates and hang out with friends in the dorms. It was almost like I finally had a normal life for once. A life that I made on my own, and mom had nothing to do with it. Then he started wanting to hang around you because he was always worried about you, and I didn't want to share his attention. I didn't know how to share his or anyones attention.”

“We were friends,” you tell her.

“Just friends? You know, he never got me anything for my birthday. He always said that he didn't like celebrating them,” she whispers as she slowly turns her engagement ring on her finger. It sparkled beautifully when it caught the sunlight at the right angle.“He always got you something though, didn't he?”

“I guess,” you can feel guilt swirl in your stomach because you can't deny her words.

“I tried to be perfect for him,” she says as a couple of stray tears fall down her face. “I did everything I thought I was supposed to do. I gave him all my attention. Had as much sex as he wanted, but it just wasn't enough. Why wasn't I perfect enough for him? Why couldn't I earn his love? I was good at earning people's love and attention.”

“You don't have to earn someone's love,” you explain. “That's not how that works, and you don't have to be perfect for anyone.”

“Will you be honest with me?” she asks softly, and you nod your head as you feel your nerves kick back in. “Were you ever with him when he and I were together?”

“No,” you say automatically. “I wouldn't have done that to you. We never crossed that line.”

“I could see the way he would look at you when he thought I wasn't around. He never looked at me that way. I….just could feel him slipping away from me, but I didn't want to let him go. I knew if I let him go…..he would run right to you,” she told you. “I was right.”

“I….” You start, but nothing else comes out. She was right, and once again, you couldn't deny it. He did run to you…eventually.

“How awful is that? I kept all three of us unhappy because I didn't want to fail at being someone's girlfriend,” she says, wiping her face. “I didn't know how to deal with failure because if I failed, that meant I wasn't perfect. It was never an option before.”

“He told me he felt guilty for how bad your relationship got,” you tell her, and she looks at you questioningly.

“Did he say anything else?” she asks, hiccuping slightly.

Yes, you thought to yourself. He called her suffocating, but there was no way that you could tell her that. She didn't deserve that, and you didn't want to hurt her. You had to choose your words wisely.

“He just said that you two were just…too different,” it wasn't a lie he did say that. “He said that it would have never worked out, and he should have broken it off sooner.”

The two of you fall into silence again. You take your water in your hands again and turn the glass around and around once again. You notice the ice has melted quickly. The condensation makes your hands wet this time, and you move to wipe them on your jeans. It leaves behind streaky handprints on the material of your jeans. Your sister takes a sip of her soy coffee and looks out the window as she sits her mug back on the table. She looks like she's trying to gather her thoughts. You give her the time she needs.

“I love Mingyu. I really love Mingyu,” she says, still looking out the window. “I honestly don't think that I ever TRULY loved Yoongi, not like I love Mingyu anyway. I was just so desperate. I'm just terrified that I will make the same mistakes…”

“No,” you say, cutting her off. “He loves you. He obviously wants to work on it if he wants to do therapy with you. He's fighting for you two, and you should work with him. You need to let Yoongi go. You're not a failure. You just….didn't know any better.”

“I'm sorry,” she said as her bottom lip quivered. “I'm so sorry. I see it now, I do. I know how awful I was. I'm working so hard to change for Mingyu….for myself.”

Tears well in your own eyes. You've never seen her like this. You have seen her cry, of course, throw a fit and have a tantrum, but this….this is new. This was raw, real, and it hurt you to watch her like this. You blink, and your own tears flow freely down your face.

“You don't have to accept my apology,” she says softly, wiping at her face again. “I probably wouldn't if I were you.”

“Can I say something?” You ask, your own voice shaky.

“Yes,” she says just as softly as before.

“I'm still hurt,” you tell her, and she looks down at her coffee. “I think a part of me will always be hurt no matter how many apologies I get or how much time passes. It's always going to linger somewhere.”

“I understand,” she says, nodding her head.

"But,” you continue, but your breath catches and you hiccup. “I want my big sister in my life.”

You start crying openly and sniffle as your nose starts to run. She looks at you with wide eyes and new tears form in her eyes. She blinks, and they fall down onto her perfectly unblemished face. This time, she doesn't wipe them away. They fall onto her pretty sweater, leaving wet spots as they soak into the material. You're sure if you look around, people would be staring at the two of you crying together in the corner. The two of you probably looked messy.

“Really?” she sobbed.

“Yeah. No Mom. No Yoongi or Mingyu,” you say. “Just you and me. I think we can figure it out if we don't rush it.”

You reach your hand across the table and place it in the center with your palm up. She stares at you for a moment before slowly reaching across and taking your hand in hers tentatively. You both smile a teary smile at each other. You don't even think that you can remember ever touching her like this…ever but it felt nice…almost normal.

“We will figure it out,” she promised, squeezing your hand. You nod your head…..you will.

Yoongi was walking around his studio with his earbuds in his ears when you finally arrived. You and your sister stayed sitting in the cafe for another hour, drying your tears together. You steered your conversation to her wedding. You wanted to lighten the heavy atmosphere with a happy topic. You learned she hired a wedding planner, and she thinks that's why your mom has been on your ass about helping you so much. Her wedding planner was lovely, but she was a no-nonsense woman who wasn't afraid to shut your mothers suggestions down or kick her out of a flower shop or two when she tried to take over. Everything makes sense now as to why she was so pushy. She told you not to give into her demands and even offered to give you her wedding planner's business card. You refused, saying you were already too far in now to stop. You hope you don't live to regret that decision.

Yoongi's head snapped up and looked at you when you entered the room. You could feel your bottom lip begin to tremble as you stood there and stared at him. He ripped his ear buds out and let them fall to the floor with a clattering sound as they bounced. Launching yourself at him, you wrapped your arms around him tightly.

“I fucking knew it,” he snapped. “Give me her number. I will deal with it once and for all.”

“No,” you cry out, gripping onto him tighter. “It's fine, it's fine. We…we're good. We are going to go to their wedding.”

“What?” he asks and pulls away from you as he looks at you like you grew another head. “Did I just hear you right? You and me….me… going to her wedding?”

“Yes,” you confirm. “I'm going to send her and Mingyu an invitation as well,” you say, and he sits down in his chair.

“What happened?” he asks, running a hand through his hair. He looks at the floor for a minute before looking back at you just as bewildered as before.

“Turns out…..she was hurt just as much as I was,” you tell him and he cocks his head to the side in contemplation. “We are going to take things slow and get to know each other….without anyone around.”

“Okay, I get it,” he says, raising his hands in surrender.

Yoongi sits back in his chair and crosses his ankle over his knee. He looks at his computer and then back to your exhausted and blotchy face. Turning his chair away from you. You watch as he shuts down his computer and presses a few buttons on his thingamajig behind it. You'll remember what it's called later.

“Let's go home,” he says, standing up and bringing you close to him.

“What about the album?” You ask, tilting your head up to look at him.

“I'm close to finishing it,” he tells you, as he drops a quick kiss to your lips. “It will still be here tomorrow.”

“Home?” you ask softly.

“Home,” he confirms.

Yoongi takes your hand in his. It's the same one your sister held not too long ago. You smile brilliantly up at him. Home.

A/N 3: Okay, so originally, it was not a happy ending for the sisters. MCs sister couldn't take responsibility for anything and even accused her of wanting Mingyu. The more I sat on it, the more I wasn't happy with it. This was the final outcome.

Tagged Readers:

@mggv97, @granataepfelchen, @kam9404, @svnbangtansworld, @futuristicenemychaos, @notarshia

[yolli-es]

I love jinx she’s my everything and my comfort character so I’m really insecure not even in normal insecurity like I’m on an deep level and I have a really bad eating disorder was wondering how would yandere! Jinx handle that I’m insecure about everything about me and i hide all my body I can’t eat or look in mirrors if I did I’ll break them (you don’t have to do this request I think it’s absolutely ridiculous also I’m okay I’m in therapy now)

Is it my fault? 🧊

Tags: mention of blood, theme of uncertainty.

Well, I was gone for quite a while, lol, but I was able to fight off the teachers and come back 💪🏻 I hope you are glad to see me again, and I also have to say that I wrote about this from my point of view, and I am sorry if I did not understand your state of mind. This topic is not so close to me, and I really tried 🙏🏻

Jinx knew from the start that something was wrong. You were always too shy, closed off, and scared. You never exposed your body. The world saw nothing but your palms and head. Is this your style? No, you always look embarrassed when your clothes suddenly ride up and just a little bit more is visible. She thought that society, all those people around you, were to blame for everything. They must have just rammed their shit into you and are enjoying themselves. Jinx won't let them trample you that easily! But nothing changes even when you become a couple and Jinx becomes your rock and protection from any unwanted contact. No, she cut you off from the world. Seeing your insecurities seemed right to her. Jinx just makes your life easier, doesn't she? You didn't change.

It seemed to only get worse.

Mirrors. It took Jinx a moment to realize you were doing this. Everything in Zaun was broken, even the people. And yet there was something strange about the mirrors in your house. She resisted for a long time and attributed everything to her new quirks. Then she counted the number of cracks on all the mirrors you could reach. And she knew. Her stomach twisted, her pupils dilated, and she wanted to pass out. No, she was going to do it right now. You were breaking mirrors. Everywhere you could reach. How could she not notice? There's blood in the cracks that can't be washed away. Damn, did you do that with your bare hand? No, no, no.

"It's my fault."

It took all her strength not to lose the last fragments of her sanity. She honestly didn't understand why. You weren't threatened, you didn't talk to anyone, and you were always under Jinx's supervision. Unless....no. She would never have affected you like that. Jinx held back then and didn't tell you anything. No matter how much Mylo screamed, Claggor was right. This would scare you; she had to act rationally now. She needs to give you time and herself time too. Jinx needs to know the real reason for your behavior. Now she will be even more attentive.

Jinx had no idea then that the broken mirrors were just the tip of a deeper problem.

You rarely dine together, usually having to eat on the run or while working. But today is a special day—your anniversary. You've been together for a year. 

Jinx bites her lip, Her nails make an audible sound as they scratch the tray with the rich cake on it. She baked it herself. But right now she's not thinking about the cake or even the anniversary. Jinx can't sleep, can't work, and even explosions don't bring pleasure. What else are you hiding? She's been watching you for weeks now after she found out about your horrible habit, but Jinx still hasn't found out anything new. But there's something else going on with you, something she doesn't know about. She feels it. Mylo chuckled. Jinx hissed. She smiled tensely before starting the conversation.

"We've been together for a long time, haven't we?" She forced herself to smile, but it came out ragged and menacing. "I mean, we're like family now. Do you consider me your family?"

Jinx, trying not to make it too obvious, leaned forward. It looked menacing. You certainly noticed it. She's just trying to keep herself together, not to give away the pressure that's built up inside her.

"Hmm, yes, Jinx, I've told you that many times! You mean a lot to me." You smiled, sincerely as always.

But Jinx doesn't believe you now. No, she just can't. Anxiety, fear, and misunderstanding are eating her up from the inside.

"Good," Jinx sat down on the chair, creaking it closer to the table. "Then let's eat."

But Jinx doesn't even try to start eating, just looking at you. A new thought flashed through her mind. Strangely, despite her obsession with your existence, she's never watched you eat.

"Are you okay? You're looking at me like that," you swallowed nervously. The atmosphere was definitely not friendly.

"Oh, sorry," she didn't even try to put on a happy face this time, "start without me."

You hesitated, looking down at the plate. Jinx carefully cut a small piece of cake and placed it right in front of you. It was fluffy, with lots of cream, and covered in food coloring. It looked beautiful and delicious. You picked up a fork and began to break it into pieces.

"So.. how's your work?" You looked up, suddenly more confident and clearly in high spirits. This confused Jinx. She responded without really thinking. Her gaze was glued to you and your hands. You didn't like it and began to distract her in various ways. This had been going on for ten minutes now, and you still hadn't put a bite in your mouth.

Jinx's eyes, which had been looking at you emotionlessly until now, suddenly narrowed in concern. And you realized. Your seat suddenly became uncomfortable, and the room was hot.

"You don't like it?" Jinx asked quietly, cautiously, almost scared. Shyness, hiding your body behind baggy clothes, breaking mirrors, and not wanting to eat your once favorite cake. Was it ever your favorite? It seemed like the puzzle was coming together in her head.

"What? Oh, no! I'm just not hungry." You were caught off guard. Is this the end? Has she figured it out, and is she going to leave you? Will she be angry or cry? You couldn't stop thinking, going over all the possible reactions Jinx might have. Unfortunately, your girlfriend wasn't stupid. She noticed it was evident on her face. The trick that worked on everyone else had no effect on her.

You can't eat. Every time you eat something like this, your conscience gnaws at you. You want to spit out everything you ate.

"I'm so sorry," was the first thing Jinx said. "I'm sorry; I should have noticed. Are you... is this because of me?" Jinx spoke softly, but there was no hint of tears on her face. There was no emotion at all. You were hurt by what was happening. Any reaction she might give would hurt you.

Jinx is about to explode with emotion. She's trying so hard to be "normal" right now so you can rely on her to open up. It's heartbreaking, but it's having the desired effect, and you're plucking up your courage.

You took a breath. This is going to be hard.

Of course Jinx thought she was just taking shitty care of you, cruelly ignoring your problems and leaving you to suffer alone.

But that's not true. You never shifted responsibility to others, realizing that you were simply insecure in yourself. You certainly met shitty people—more than you wanted. But who in Zaun pays attention to them? You just suffered from constant comparisons to others and couldn't do anything about it. You honestly fought with yourself, your shyness, and other shit that was dragging you down. Jinx only helped you along the way, without realizing it. Every time she proudly held your hand walking along the busy streets, every time she unashamedly said, "Yes, this is my future wife," and every time she ignored the advances of a conventionally beautiful girl.

Your silence and her speculations brought you here.

And yet you came to understand Jinx. How could it be otherwise? She will never let you go.

But you will never want to leave.

"Oh, I'm always here," Jinx hugged you, and you did the same in return. It was a pleasant ending after several hours of relentless altercations. You were silent, whispering, screaming, crying, and didn't understand each other. But now everything became clear.

Jinx, on her yandere side, is not ready to leave everything just like that. Now in your house there is only one whole mirror, specially stolen from Piltover. You often eat together, and Jinx tries to make each meal as relaxed for you as possible so that you simply forget about the food itself. She will definitely not let you go, love you less, judge you, or make the situation better by force. Not with this problem. She will do everything you ask to make you feel better.

Jinx loves you.

In her strange way.

That's all! I hope you haven't forgotten about me 😅 This work is quite short, but I hope I was able to convey the main points and mood.

[kairithemang0]

I like thinking about Curt lying on the grass. It's raining. It's raining hard. The droplets grace his cheeks, his eyelids, fluttering eye lashes. He's never been a fan of rain, it felt weird on his skin. It's itchy and uncomfortable and it makes him feel like his body isn't his. It hasn't been for a long time.

Owen was gone. He had been for a few months now. It had become almost easy to laugh at, the same way he'd joke about how his dad left he and his mother who knows how many years ago. Humor was easy, it was easier than crying, than facing the terror of loneliness with his head held towards the dreary dark sky.

His dreams had gotten worse, beginning to seep into his state of being awake. He'd see him, Owen, everywhere. Every bar, every picture in his apartment, across every busy street before disappearing before Curt could reach his hand. He'd run towards him, towards the figure he knew. He'd sometimes get close, get to see his face, bruised, tarnished, destroyed.

They never found his body. Curt didn't know if they even tried. He begged Cynthia, begged her to attempt to. He could almost hear a bit of regret in his voice as they spoke on the phone, as if it hurt her to even talk to him. And yet, all Curt wanted to do was to go back to that facility and find him, even if he had to break through every bit of rubble with his own hands, if he had to lift a thousand stones to find Owen, he would, even if it was to find a dead body, he would.

Maybe seeing Owen dead would give him closure. The real Owen, able to take his hand and hold him, whisper things to him he never dared say aloud, words he wished he did while he had time.

Curt's hair is soaked by the muddy grass of his mother's backyard. He and Owen sat out there once, they watched the stars. Curt found his hand, made it his own, grasped it so tight his nail left marks on the back of it, every vein and bone like a map to find him, the only real treasure this world or any other had to offer.

Maybe Curt was going crazy, but he swore he could hear gentle footsteps coming his way. He heard someone sit beside him. He opened his eyes, not seeing anything, only feeling, hearing, but not truly there. He was nearly able to grasp the face that kissed his forehead, the hand that ran through his muddy hair. He was so close to hearing soft gentle words in his ear.

"I love you."

Curt bolted upwards, the feeling never there. His body began to shake and suddenly everything was gone. Everything but the rain. The rain remained. No matter how much he wished it would go, for the sun to peak through those clouds once again, to maybe even leave a sign of hope for the future, it never came.

Looking towards the sky, he heard a rumble of thunder, a laugh from the god he didn't believe in. His hands were muddy, hair a mess, body still shaking, he never stopped shaking. It was cold, Owen's old jacket around his shoulders, across his arms, his old friend's scent barely there anymore, now only left with petrichor and the leather sticking to his skin, pressed against him so hard it almost reminded Curt of the way Owen's hands would rise against his arms, would grab him so hard and leave marks from his nails on his already scarred skin.

The rain soaked into his skin, and his eyes closed again, rain drops hitting his fluttering eyelashes, as he shivered. A memory washed over him like a wave, one long forgotten, one buried so deep in his mind, under the rubble that Owen was trapped under from his fall.

"I love you."

Sorry chat i wrote a fanfic my bad will probably edit this and make it a full fic or something. idfk

[lovely-p-issues]

Okay, you've made me realise that I misspoke in my previous response (and I used italics incorrectly lmao)

I'll start with the most important one - yes, I do think that until the very end Ody saw Eurylochus as his friend (as you wrote, he literally appears as a ghost alongside his mum and Polites)

However. I think this relationship was incredibly damaged by everything that happened, and these most important relationships have a way of being strengthened by tragedies. That's why, despite all my love for this character, after everything he and Ody did to each other, I could never vote for him

But I just need to address your really good points and how I look at it

sacrificing the crew

Yes, my mistake, abandoning the crew on the island of Kirke could be called reasonable - I meant rather to point out that sacrificing six men was also essentially the best tactic for survival, in a situation where you are in the middle of nowhere, chased by a god of sea and have to sail somewhere (but surely there is something much darker about deliberately choosing the death of six men than refusing to save them, even if it was ultimately to reduce the bloodshed associated with pointless battle)

(just to be clear, none of these decisions lie with my general view on the world, they are simply comparable in my eyes)

My point was rather that, of all people, Eurylochus could understand Odysseus - he himself was prepared to do something very similar, yet he completely ignored it and started a mutiny (I wonder now if the crew ever found out that Eurylochus had refused to save them…)

Nor does Eurylochus ever deny this plea by Odysseus in Mutiny:

Don't make me fight you, brother, you know you'd have done the same If you want all the power, you must carry all the blame

I interpret this as Eurylochus saying "that's true, but at the end of the day it was you who made that decision, so we can blame you for this"

while we're on Mutiny….

I just remembered how annoyed I was that the moment the crew, headed by Eurylochus, realised how badly they had screwed up, they immediately turn to Odysseus. Odysseus, whom they had just removed from power, thinking they knew better.

In a normal situation, I wouldn't put up with telling a person close to me very clearly ‘don't do that, there will be consequences’, but when it actually happens, they look at me, expecting me to somehow solve the problem

Eurylochus's advice

Did Odysseus need a man who could pull him down to earth? Absolutely.

The problem is that Eurylochus does it in public, in front of the entire crew, not only trying to talk sense into Odysseus, but sowing doubt among the crew.

When Ody pulls him aside at the end of Luck Runs Out this is practically the first thing he points out to him. A captain making a mistake is a terrible thing, but a crew left to their own devices…. well, Mutiny showed that, despite his flaws, Odysseus made better decisions most of the time (motivated by a desire to get home) than they did, focused more on the present moment, hunger and fatigue.

But even putting tactics aside - I think the friends know best that a public confrontation is not the best idea. While we obviously don't know how Odysseus would have reacted to a private conversation with Eurylochus - it seems to me personally that at least he could have focused on what was being said to him, rather than making sure his men don't fall apart.

I will end here, because we can point those thing for eternity and I didn't even started rating about Odysseus's mistakes as a friend-

I just don't think Eury was a really good friend in general. He was a decent man, he was trying his best, he was obviously tired and broken, but looking from perspetive of the first question, he just... doesn't stand a chance

And I still love him tho.

(i will probably get through every character in survey when it's finished lmao)

(i regret setting seven days instead of one for this)

[zevranunderstander]

number #1 tactic that people use to not sound as racist as they are when they talk to black people: 'uhh so you AMERICANS need to stop pretending everything is about YOU. why should i know this im not from the us :/' (= is talking about like. a phenomenally internationally well-known black artist)

[shannonsketches]

he's so important to me

[eddiemunsonsmum]

Just saw this comment on a story posted a month ago.

*cries in Eddie Munson Solo Series no one wanted to read, interact with or request for*

No shade to the person that commented this on their own fic if you recognize it. It's not their fault. I'm not mad at them. More crying in the tags.

[nexus-nebulae]

found my ancient mp3 player recently. finally found a charger for it and plugged it in. and remembered i found a yt playlist of the whole httyd movie chopped up into like 20 videos and i downloaded the mp3s of all of them to listen to on the school bus. which is why i can effortlessly quote the whole first movie now

[seagulley]

Kaija is 18 months old!

Very long and sappy post under the cut. 

I think the short version of this post is just this: the more I get to know this dog the more I grow to love her. There are things we have struggled with of course, but as she slowly matures and her personality develops, those are becoming fewer and fewer, meanwhile the great, amazing things become more and more.

Overall I think Kaija is on the chill side as far as Aussies go, tho I should say that my sample size is basically... one. For a dog who *loves* to do stuff, at this point she's pretty willing to accept off days, although if there's too many in a row then she might get whiny about it. She's still very funny and very soft (her winter coat is coming in and it's nearly as soft now as when she was a puppy, apparently the undercoat is where the softness comes from), and she still struggles to remain connected to the ground (well I guess it's not much of a struggle in that she just... doesn't). She isn't a barky dog at all - on occasion she might bark if I get her extra amped up in play + I think there's been maybe three times when she's barked at the neighbours' dogs going crazy, but that's pretty much it. Instead she expresses her opinions through whining and through other vocalisations that I don't even have a word for.

Kaija is incredibly easy to work with. She forgives my handling mistakes and powers through even if I'm being annoyingly unclear in what I want from her. I'm a very green handler so it helps immensely that she is so resilient and optimistic. Plus, Kaija is easy to motivate, she loves food and will work for kibble if the environment isn't too difficult, and she's had pretty decent toy skills almost from the start. But the best thing is seeing how much she enjoys our training itself. Yes, the rewards are important to her and I'm more than happy to use them liberally, but you can't miss how she lights up when I bring out our training equipment. I think she loves the puzzle of it and getting it right, as well as simply the chance to work together with me.

We'll be ending this year with one last rally trial on the 18th. I'm really hoping for two more >90% scores - we already have two from our previous trial and four is the max before you have to move on to the next class. I think it would be nice to have all four qualifying scores and start getting ready for RO-2 in the spring. That being said, our biggest struggle is still sustaining focus and engagement through the whole course and this will be a brand new indoor venue for us... So we'll see how it goes.

For the first year-ish that I had Kaija, I wasn't sure whether this breed was right for me or whether we were the best fit. I had the puppy blues for a few months and then for a long time I just had this vague feeling that we weren't completely clicking, like something just wasn't fitting quite right. I remember how in the beginning I was so impressed with her spark and willingness to work with me, but I also felt a bit bad because I knew that someone more experienced could do so much more with her. But we're figuring it out together and I'm slowly learning how to be a better teacher to her. Besides, although I do believe she enjoys the work, she isn't obsessive about and it's only one part of what makes a happy Kaija. So maybe a filthy casual owner such as myself is just the sweet spot for her. I'm still not convinced that I'll have more Aussies in the future (I have to say tho, it's getting dangerously difficult to remember exactly why I was so sure I shouldn't), but holy shit is this dog everything to me. 

Ok that's enough gushing about my puppy for now.

[bylertruther]

thinking abt byler with their dog watching a movie on the couch all snuggled up in some blankets (plural, bc will hogs them & leaves mike to freeze to death [will rejects these slanderous claims, says mike's being a big baby]).. their dog's got its head in mike's lap and his feet against will's ribs in the weirdest most endearing position ever that cannot possibly be comfortable And Yet. mike scratches n rubs the little mongrel's chest n asks him if he's enjoying their boys night. This Is Real n True

[94erz]

At this point I think I have to accept we’re not getting anything until Indigo actually comes out or very close to, sometime after the 21st. One part of me has reached the whatever stage while the other part of me is still like, what the fuck?!

Do I get it? Not really. But I haven’t been able to make sense of a lot of shit that’s been happening since the summer. I don’t think they do either given how last minute everything has been.

I hope someone makes a documentary years after BTS disband that does an insane deep dive into them that includes this era because I would be fascinated to know what the game plan was. Since we’ll never know from the company and I don’t see any of the members doing a tell-all. Even though I would live for that, a book or otherwise. Specifically from Namjoon’s perspective ‘cause I think if anyone would write a good book it’d be him.

[thelostconsultant]

Not a gold digger

pairing: Max Verstappen x reader

summary: Fans think you only want Max's money. But as it turns out, you were wealthy before he came into your life--you just don't make it obvious.

warnings: No smut, but there's a part that makes me say MDNI.

note: So... I'm kinda back? Idk, I'll see if I'll stick around.

The toxicity of the fandom was becoming quite entertaining, really. It was the third time since you and Max had made your relationship public half a year ago that someone started an anti gold digger campaign to protect your boyfriend. They truly believed they were doing this for a greater good, and they all begged Max for his attention.

It always began after they sniffed out he had given you something expensive as a gift or took you shopping to a luxury boutique. While there were some people who tried to protect you by pointing out that maybe he enjoyed showering you with gifts, the rest didn't care about that. 

You lived in a small apartment back home, you were driving a five years old Renault SUV, and no one knew what you did for a living. This was enough to enrage them and make them believe all you wanted was Max's money at the end of the day. Just think about the way she's looking at him, one of them wrote about two months ago, she's so clearly not in love with him. Poor Max, someone please save him. 

Ridiculous.

“Is everything okay?” he asked when he got home and kissed the top of your head. 

You were sitting in his sim rig, using the time while it was free to practice, because you wanted to play with him when you weren't here together, and he was more than happy to show you the basics. “Someone started another campaign to cancel me,” you replied casually as you got out with his help. 

Even when you were standing in front of him, he didn't let go of your hand, instead he raised it to his lips to place a soft kiss on its back. “Gold digging?” You nodded with a sad look on your face, but less than five seconds later you were both laughing. “Look, I know you're having way too much fun with this, but–”

Without waiting for him to finish, you raised your hand to make him stop. “I'm not stepping out of the shadows, Max. I've been hiding for years, even fucking Forbes doesn't know my real name or face,” you told him.

Back in the old days, when Bitcoin appeared, your geeky uncle had gotten into mining and trading it. He knew the potential, so he put most of his savings into buying them, then he held onto them, and by the time he got sick years later, he knew they were valuable and would be worth a lot more in the upcoming years. In his will, he left his savings and his wallet to you, giving you the chance to use them as you wished since you had learned everything about crypto from him.

So now you had Bitcoin as well as old fashioned investments, and you had used your money to help out an up-and-coming tech company for a forty percent share, and it was later sold to a tech giant for a lot of money. But despite your wealth, you chose to stay under the radar, because you loved your small apartment, and you weren't about to trade it for some fancy penthouse. 

You had met Max the year before in Las Vegas. F1 was a sport you watched with your uncle while he was still alive, and you were hell-bent on getting a VIP pass for the weekend. If you asked your boyfriend, he would say it was love at first sight, but in reality he was just annoyed by you. For a solid ten seconds, he would correct you every time you talked about it.

You agreed that you would hide in Max's apartment until this latest campaign died down, which gave you some time to spend together in peace. Every now and then you checked the tags to see how things were going, and after the silence of the past few days, today your name was trending again. Ready to have a good laugh, you opened the tag, but the most popular post gave you a minor stroke.

“Oh, fuck me,” you yelled as you launched your phone into the couch.

Max pulled the headset down to his neck as he looked over at you. “Is everything okay?” You raised your finger to your lips as if you wanted him to stay quiet, but luckily he got the message. “I'm muted. So?”

You grabbed your phone and went over to him. “They know. One of those idiots from the company I helped back in the day posted a tweet to protect me, saying that if it wasn't for me being an angel investor, they wouldn't be millionaires now,” you summarized as you gave him the device.

He scrolled through a series of tweets, and found a post from a journalist of Forbes in which he promised a proper investigative piece based on this info. He handed you the phone, then wrapped an arm around your waist. “It's okay, schatje. I know that's not what you wanted, but maybe they'll stop with the recurring hate campaign now,” he tried. “And if you’re worried about the article… Don’t be. There is nothing compromising about you. Yes, you inherited the money, but you have proven you know what to do with it.”

“Maybe you’re right,” you admitted with a sigh. 

“I’m usually right. C’mere,” he said as he reached out to pull you closer, but you glanced over at the camera. Rolling his eyes, he quickly turned it off, then gave you an expectant look. “Will you hug me now? And I want a kiss too.”

With a laugh, you leaned down to wrap your arms around his neck and gave him a soft kiss. But he wanted more, his hand slowly sneaked under your shorts, his fingers running over your clothed cunt before he decided to pull your panties aside and dip a finger between your folds. You moaned into the kiss, but he pulled away a second later to lick his finger clean. 

Shaking your head with a chuckle, you patted his shoulder and walked back to the couch. You could feel Max’s eyes on you the whole time, and when you looked at him again, he flashed a devilish smile at you. “I should quit the stream. Now that I had a taste, I want more,” he told you. 

“I’m not going anywhere, just try to be patient.”

He looked back at the screen, then put the headset back on his head and unmuted his mic. “Sorry, I have to go. See you next time,” he told the others, then logged out. You couldn’t remember the last time he left the sim rig this fast, and only a few seconds later he was kneeling in front of you, eagerly reaching up to pull your shorts off you.

liked by user1, user2 and 947,896 others

f1gossips: Breaking news! Turns out Max Verstappen's girlfriend isn't a gold digger after all as she has her own fortune according to the investigative article published by Forbes. Will the fans apologize?

view all comments

user2: And here I was, thinking she's just a greedy airhead...

user3: Easy to be wealthy with your uncle's money.

↳ user4: Have you read the whole thing? She invested the money and helped out several startups--that later became pretty successful--as an angel investor. Yes, maybe she inherited a lot of money, but she knows what to do with it.

↳ user5: May I remind you how many F1 drivers started their careers with their families's money?

user6: Told you she wasn't a gold digger. Suck it, haters.

liked by yourusername, landonorris and 1,577,353 others

maxverstappen1: If you don't buy your girlfriend gifts every once in a while, you're a bad boyfriend. I love to spoil her, it's not a crime. I love her, I'm proud of her, and you can send us as much hate as you want, it will only make us stronger.

tagged: yourusername

view all comments

yourusername: I'd be perfectly fine without the gifts, I already told you.

↳ maxverstappen1: I don't care.

landonorris: You're absolutely right!

↳ maxverstappen1: You're single, how would you know?

↳ landonorris: Just FYI, I've been in relationships before.

danielricciardo: You're so disgustingly smitten with her. (I love you both.)

[fictionalmenmistress]

I haven't seen anyone else talk about it, so I wanted to share that Logan's rant monologue insulting Wade in the Honda Odyssey, before Wade decides to beat him up and they ~fight~ all night... that so clearly to me, was Logan projecting. It started as a tempered rant to cope with how annoyed and pent up he was, with the heat of everything and with Wade's muchness that makes him, him, but the longer he went on, the more he started ranting and exposing himself in the process.

"THE XMEN REJECTED YOU, AND THEY'LL TAKE FUCKING ANYONE!!!" That was my first hit, that he was referring to himself. He sees himself so lowly, so failed, that's canonical to the film. And canonically, he didn't even quite originally feel worthy or want to be with the XMEN. Didn't feel like there was a place for him there, a place for him anywhere. One of his biggest healings was Professor X not giving up on helping him believe that he deserved to be there, was wanted, was worthy, was a good guy. That's canon to his character. So we know he was speaking about himself. He was chewing Wade out, but he was also talking and focusing moreso on what upset him about himself. (He sees himself as just any jo shmo, when he IS literally THE X MAN ㅠㅠ)

He was seeing himself in Wade, how he "can't even save a relationship with a gd stripper", (he sees himself as not able to save anything either, and he's angry for that more than anything else he's angry or annoyed at) projecting SO HARD as he pieced together saying it out loud, that Wade was exactly like him. Logan hated himself for not saving anything. For being a "loser", a "failure", for all of the same reasons he was lashing out at Wade for. He was so angry and annoyed by Wade reminding him of himself, because he related to him. Wade was his reflection, in his eyes, calling him out so loudly with his own behaviors. And he hated himself. He deeply was suffering with that hatred for himself, and as a result, he lashed out on Wade when really he was chewing out himself, inside, admitting it.

"God's CRUELEST JOKE, IS THAT YOU *WONT* DIE ALONE. BECAUSE YOU! CANT! DIE! SO THE REST OF US HAVE TO SUFFER YOU THE REST OF OUR EXISTENCE!" (something along that.)

He didn't know for sure that Wade can't die. He picked up on that Wade can't be killed. Logan is the one who can't die. They are two flipped sides of the same immortal power coin. When he finished his screaming at him, and everyone was silent at how cruel and shocking the confrontation and his words were, I was sinking with a very empathetically whispered "oh, Logan..." Because I felt his misery. I immediately picked up on him really talking about himself, and I think that was genius and layered. I was upset for how awful that was to say to Wade, heartbroken for Wade taking that to heart, and I was heartbroken that Logan was saying that because he believes that about himself. Because they are, oddly, a lot alike. Very compatible.

This scene here:

I read that Hugh said that Ryan wrote that. He's brilliant with these films. It was so genius. I really needed to share this and bring this thought, meta, analysis to light. For all of us to have.

Is Logan mad at God's "cruel joke" of his immortality, yet ability to feel so much pain through it still? Yes. He punched the roof in rage, because it's not fair. Venting his own pain. He sees his powers, his own and Wade's too, empathetically, as their curse. The curse of being the one who lives, and the guilt with that. The one who can't die. The one who lives, who is forced to live, while everyone who "deserves to live" dies. And WILL die, around them.

"And You can't die. That's on all of US!" Logan says, clearly referring to himself living forever... And "us" being the people HE loved. He saw himself as a burden for existing with them, for them. He deflected that onto Wade, as if the people in Wade's life must feel that way too, but didn't really mean that. He meant it about himself. Logan believes he was a burden on the people he loves, the people he lost. That's probably why he left too, and didn't come back when they called out for him to. He distanced himself to protect them, and protect himself from that fear of rejection that he feels is so imminent, and them not having him, is the one element that led to none of them surviving without him. He was always the key. He was always wanted, and he was always important and needed. He just couldn't ever believe that.

Man, that's why it became so personal for Logan too, when he was shown Wade's photograph of his family. Because HE had a family, and he would do anything now to save them. Just like Wade. He held that photograph all night, he went and got it when it fell out of the car, he kept looking at it. It became personal for him, when he identified with it. That Honda scene really was their turning point of everything. That's when Logan cared with everything. He got it. Wade is the him he couldn't be. But now he can.

I dropped some heat with this one.

Extra little personal context/thought notes: Maybe I just spotted it because I have a natural knack for psychology, I'm hyperobservant, highly empathetic and deeply feeling, and I'm also years experienced of my parents and whole family treating me the same exact toxic lashout way almost every other day. That's a workweek for me to see through toxic lashout anger BS. These are not my gifs!!! They were created by another amazing account. I will refind their @ and tag them!! >>> It's @landoslastnerve ! Thank you friend! 🤍

Also wanted to include someone's tags from those gifs:

.

[witchesverse]

witchy fight.

pairing: dark!rio x fem!reader

summary: rio and you fight in the middle of the forest and then have sex.

content: magic use, fighting, degrading, knife play, blood, cutting, dubcon, fingering, clit rubbing, cutting clothes off, pain kink, nipple tugging/licking, cum eating, finger sucking.

a/n: idk much about witch powers so i just wrote about whatever powers i wanted them to use

masterlist

"I don't remember you being this pathetic."

Her laughter was sickening and mocking and seemed to echo around the forest. The dim light that the forest provided made it difficult to see.

Another blast of magic hit you in the back, shoving you into the dirt floor.

More laughter.

You barred your teeth and stood. You held your palms out, your magic surrounding them.

"You're the one hiding in the shadows, Rio."

You heard a twig snap and immediately shot a ball of magic in that direction, scowling when you heard more laughter at your miss.

"Most witches can actually hit their targets." Her voice sounded closer now "So, I'm embarrassed that you can't."

You took a deep breath in, then shot another magic ball. You grinned at the sound of Rio groaning and hitting the floor.

"You were saying?"

Suddenly, you're slammed into the floor and pinned down. Rio straddled your waist and held a dagger to your cheek. She softly trailed the dagger down, stopping at your neck.

You tried to wiggle away, but she grabbed your hair and tsked.

"I don't want to have to cut you, baby."

You started to form another ball of energy, but Rio pushed the tip of the dagger into your neck. An evil smile spread across her face as blood trickled down.

Rio continued to drag the dagger down and with one quick motion, she sliced your shirt and bra in half, revealing your bare chest. You gasped and made Rio laugh.

"I missed this." Her fingers tugged at your nipple, pulling a whimper from you.

"Of course, you did, whore."

You laughed as Rio's hand met your cheek. The slap hurt and would probably bruise.

"So aggressive already." You muttered.

Rio ignored your comment; you always had a smart mouth. She licked a long strip up your sternum before wrapping her lips around your nipple.

You moaned and arched your back, pushing your chest further into her.

She pulled away, a string of spit following her. Her magic wrapped around your wrists, bounding your hands above your head. She swiftly removed your pants.

"No panties?" Rio questioned, "Looks like you came prepared, huh?"

You shivered as the cold air swept over your naked body.

Her fingers rubbed your clit in small circles and her lips brushed against yours. She collected your leaking slick on one finger and suck her finger, moaning at the taste.

"Hurry up." You snapped.

Rio rolled her eyes but complied. Two fingers returned and she covered them in slick before slowly pushing them inside. You moaned at the intrusion and stretch.

Her fingers continued to pump inside of you and her thumb rubbed your clit in tight circles. She leant down, capturing your lips with hers in a heated kiss.

There was a small fight for dominance, which you lost. Your teeth clashed together and your tongues interlocked.

Her fingers felt heavenly in you. She touched places you didn't even know existed and made you see stars. You were convinced that you were leaking down her arm from how wet you were.

Rio broke the kiss. She bit your earlobe before biting your neck. You whimpered.

"Rio, I'm gonna-"

"Already? How slutty." She snickered.

Your mouth dropped open and your eyes fluttered closed as your orgasm hit you. Pleasure bursts throughout your entire body and your legs shake.

You're pulled out of your high by the sound of Rio's fingers popping out of her mouth. She leaned forward and wiped away tears you didn't even know existed on your cheek.

Rio stood and you finally realised how naked you were compared to Rio. You felt your face go hot in embarrassment.

"I'll see you next time, hm?"

You nodded, still processing everything that had just happened.

"Good girl."

[gor3-hound]

FUCK YOU !! (AND, UH, FUCK HER TOO) — LOGAN HOWLETT + SCOTT SUMMERS

ft. scott summers x f!reader x logan howlett

a/n: deadpool and wolverine full throttled me back into my x-men era... rewatched the first two movies and binge wrote this over the course of three hours... it's pure, shameless smut with slightly gay undertones idk what to tell you... reader is basically in place of jean!!

cw: 18+ content, double penetration, almost cucking, cheating, reader is scott's girlfriend, logan is an asshole, competitive sex?? fighting, clawsTM, biting, marking, mild possessive behavior, p in v, mild scent kink, assholery all round tbh, creampies, threesome. gay crisis for a second x

word count: 2.3k words

Scott is starting to think Logan likes his things way too much. First, it was the way he looked at you when he was first brought to the school, eyes raking over your form. Scott wasn't blind – the visor didn't impair his vision that much. He remembers walking into the room when the both of you were alone. He could sense the tension between the two of you before his presence was even made known to you.

It wasn't until a while later he'd figured out Logan probably smelt him coming. Cocky bastard probably wanted to be caught.

Then, it was his motorcycle. His very own pride and joy. Returned with an empty tank, his keys tossed to him like it was nothing. His eyes narrowed imperceptibly behind his visor as he chucked the keys back to Logan. He barely managed to reign in his irritation.

“You gonna tell me to stay away from your girl?” Scott had told him to do so after that comment, despite having the faith in you that you'd be able to avoid Logan's charms. He was clearly wrong. Logan didn't seem like the type to have much respect, but this was just taking the piss.

“Been meaning to test if these beams could pulverise Adamantium.”

All he gets in reply is a shit eating grin from Logan as he pulls away from the heated kiss Scott had walked in on, his hands still gripping your waist. You really had the audacity to get all wide-eyes and shocked, like you weren't just about to fuck Logan with your ass perched on Scott's bike.

“Shit. Scott, I'm-”

“Sorry?” He cuts off, gaze very clearly still trained on Logan despite the way his shades conceal his line of vision. “Yeah. Save it.”

“Thought I could smell that shitty hair gel.” Logan huffs, bringing his head down to nip and suck at your neck, adding to the wide array of marks he's already left. And you fucking let him, tilting your head back and gasping like it's the best thing you've ever felt. Scott's gonna kill you, then Logan, then quite possibly himself. “How long’s it take you to get that done in the mornin’ anyway, pretty boy?”

“Right. Says the guy with kitty ears?” Scott bites back, taking a few steps towards the both of you. “I'm gonna give you about three seconds to get away from my girl and my bike before we see how good your healing factor really is.”

Logan fucking laughs, kissing his way up your neck and along your jaw so he can whisper into your ear, breath hot against your skin. “Stay put for me, yeah? Shouldn't take long, sweetheart.”

He pushes away from the bike, turning around to face Scott. Cocks his head to the side like a damn dog, rolling his shoulders as his claws shoot out from his knuckles. “Don't make me embarrass you in front of your girl, Cy-clops.”

Scott fucking hates that, hates the way he drags out his name as if it's stupider than Wolverine. Hates everything about Logan, if he's being honest. Hates how easily the man manages to get under his skin every single time.

“You're such a fucking asshole, y'know that?” Scott squares up, trying his best not to hurl a beam directly at Logan with the hopes he'd be able to send him flying through the garage wall. He's meant to be a team player. Level-headed. He's not sure how the older man always reduces him to this.

“That really hurts my feelings, bub. I thought we were a team.” Logan stalks closer, and Scott's vaguely aware you've gotten up, ready to break up a fight that never comes. Claws sink into the drywall beside his head at the same time he hears you tell Logan to ‘stop’. His back hits the wall, and then the asshole leans down, lips brushing his ear just like he had to yours moments prior.

“Y'know, I can smell the changes in your scent when you're pissed, happy... Can also smell it when you're turned on.” He breathes out, inhaling deeply just to tease the man further. “So either you're really into you're girl gettin’ passed around, or you wanna fuck me. Shit, or both. Which is it, pretty boy?”

“I don't want you to fuck my girl, Logan.” Scott grits put. His looks literally can kill, and he's becoming increasingly tempted to prove that to the other man. “And I definitely don't wanna fuck you.”

“C'mere, baby.” Logan coos, gaze flicking to you. He tuts when Scott goes to move, pressing his body against his to prevent him from getting too far. “Ah-ah. Stay there, pretty boy.”

You're at Logan’s side in a second, peering up at him through your lashes like an obedient dog waiting for its next command. Shit makes Scott's blood boil, his body going rigid against the other man's.

“D'you wanna kiss me, sweetheart?” He asks you, cocking his head to the side with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. And you fucking nod, like your boyfriend isn't right there staring at you. “D'you think he wants a kiss from me, too, sweetheart? Think he deserves it? Can't have been treatin’ you right if you came runnin’ to me, huh? Maybe I should teach him?”

“Yeah, think he needs it. He's always so stressed, never wants to do anything.” Now you're airing out your relationship issues? Fucking great. Scott's practically seething now, lips parting to say something – anything – to defend himself.

He doesn't get the chance before Logan's lips crash against his. He tenses up, ready for a fight. His hands come up to push the man away, but fuck he's a good kisser. It's a lot different from a girl – rougher. There's a drag of his stubble, a pleasant burn that comes from it. His teeth sink into Scott's lower lip before tugging, then he's forcing his tongue into his mouth. Scott ends up dragging him closer, eyes fluttering shut as he kisses back.

A growl rises in Scott's throat when he hears you giggle at his reaction, but he doesn't have much time to think on it, ‘cause Logan laughs all breathy and hot into his mouth, and it's making him short circuit. The growl quickly transforms into a low whine, his lips chasing after the other man when he starts to pull back.

His eyes open just in time to watch as Logan grabs you by your hair to pull you into a needy kiss, his free hand grasping at your hip to grind you against his rapidly hardening length. Scott feels his own cock twitching to life at the sight, a breathless ‘fuck’ leaving his lips as he reaches down to palm himself through his jeans. He hasn't been this hard in months – maybe ever. He feels like a horny teenager again, leaking pre-cum steadily into the fabric of his boxers. He isn't sure what to think of it. Humiliating, is what it is.

Logan's lips are on his again, his hands sliding under his shirt, tugging him closer. He feels his cock pressing against the hard ridges of Logan's muscles, feels your own hands join his in exploring Scott's skin, your lips pressing kisses along his neck and jaw.

“Relax, Scott.” You say, as if it's the easiest thing in the world. Relax, yeah. His dick is rubbing against another man's for the first time while his girlfriend is reaching around him to unbutton his jeans, and you want him to relax. This is a totally normal scenario that isn't throwing him head first into an identity crisis.

He gets lost in the hands on his body, the lips against his skin. Before he knows it, the three of you are naked and panting and pressed against each other. Scott feels like he can't breathe properly. His eyes dart between your body, and the fattest dick he's ever seen in his life. He doesn't know if he should be turned on or really, really insecure. His cock answers by jumping against his abdomen and leaving a sticky trail of pre-cum. Traitor.

Logan grunts as he lifts you up almost effortlessly, his arms resting at the back of your knees, using them as makeshift slings to hold you up against his chest, which is flush to your back. He quirks an eyebrow as Scott just stares, unmoving. “Well? You don't need me to tell you where to put your dick, do you? No wonder she's so pent up.”

“Asshole.” Scott says simply in response, stepping towards you. His words lack any real bite – he's too turned on to even think about being pissy. He fists his length leisurely a few times before lining up with your entrance, pushing forward inch by inch until his hips are flush with the backs of your thighs, your legs dangling helplessly at his sides.

You gasp and whine as Logan moves to slide in alongside your boyfriend, nails digging into his skin until Logan is buried to the hilt inside of you. Scott instantly peppers the skin of your neck with kisses, trying to soothe you.

“You alright, baby?” He asks, all soft and sweet. He's forgotten why he was mad at you in the first place, mind foggy with arousal as your cunt clenches around him.

“She's fine, bub. She can take it. Isn't that right, sweet thing.” Another whine, then a nod. It eases Scott, if only slightly, when he feels you relaxing against them. A beat passes, and then another. His eyes meet Logan’s and they both start to move – slowly, at first, before picking up the pace.

You're so much tighter like this, sucking him in desperately as he tries to find a rhythm with Logan. He can barely focus in anything but your heat and the way his cock ruts against Logan's as they both fuck into you. It's almost maddeningly hot, and he's feeling overwhelmingly anxious that he's going to cum in an embarrassingly short amount of time.

Scott leans down, his lips meeting yours as he rocks forward over and over. His lashes flutter as he sucks on your tongue, kissing you greedily. He feels a hand tugging at his hair, pulling him away from you before sharp teeth start to nip at his lower lip, a tongue bullying his way into his mouth. He sucks on Logan's, too, kissing him back just as hungrily as he did to you. He rubs soothing circles into your hips as he picks up the pace, coaxing you into relaxing further.

A growl rumbles Logan's chest when he feels Scott fucking you faster, his hips snapping against the fat of your thighs with more intensity, like he's determined to fuck you better than the other man. He's bigger, tip bullying your cervix with every thrust in a way that makes you tear up. His nose twitches as he smells the saltiness of your tears, then he's pulling away from Scott to lap them off of your face.

“Shhh, shh… you can take it, sweetheart. I know you can.” He coos softly, moving to nuzzle the crook of your neck, nose running along the skin like he's scenting you. Both men continue to slide in and out of your slick heat, grunting and groaning like animals as they chase their release.

“You gonna cum for me, baby?” Your boyfriend coos. Scott needs you to cum soon, because he's barely holding on as it is. He doesn't want to leave you unsatisfied – especially now he's very aware Logan will gladly pick up his slack. His hand falls from your hip to make its way between your legs, thumb rubbing circles into your clit until your muscles grow taut. He grins, sucking a possessive mark over one of the hickies Logan had left earlier. Take that, asshole.

Your walls flutter and clench around both cocks as you reach your peak, a shaky moan of Scott's name leaving your lips as your head falls back against Logan's shoulder. Check and mate.

“Hear that, kitty claws? I'm still her favourite.” He huffs out, hands returning to your hips in an almost bruising grip as he ruts helplessly inside your tight heat, balls tightening as his orgasm rapidly approaches.

“S'only ‘cause she's lookin’ at ya, dumbass.” Really, it shouldn't be Logan's gruff, fucked-out tone that drives him over the edge, but it is. He blows his load a second later, forehead dropping against the crook of your neck as he fills you with spurts of hot, white liquid. He gasps against your skin, nails digging into your plush flesh.

Logan isn't far behind, grunting as he forces every inch of his cock deep inside of you, head tipping back as he releases. The tips of his claws threaten to breach the skin of his knuckles, but he manages to suppress them enough that they never fully unsheathe. He pants softly, chest heaving as he thrusts shallowly through his orgasm.

“Fuck.” He hisses, slowly pulling out of you. He lifts you off of Scott's cock, settling you down on the seat of the motorcycle so you can all catch your breath. Logan rubs soothing circles into your back as Scott steps forward, all but slumping against you as he embraces you.

“Did so good, baby. Was perfect.” He breathes out, pressing kisses along your bare shoulder. He pulls back just enough to look at Logan, who's already lighting up a cigar. “The fuck did that even come from?”

That shit-eating grin lights up the older man's face again as he takes a few short draws from the cigar in his mouth. He exhales the smoke, pulling it out of his mouth to speak.

“Trust me, pretty boy. You really don't wanna know.”