#what does all of this MEAN Erik??

[bigbrownboots]

Don't know if anyone else has pointed this out, but in the description of Vega’s latest video there’s this quote: "lips that would kiss form prayers to broken stone" and it’s from T.S. Elliot's 'The Hollow Men' poem, which I’ve realised has been referenced MANY TIMES in Vega's videos (and videos concerning him) which is very exciting for my pattern-loving-theory-scrambling brain!

Off the top of my head alone, I believe that in Caelum's reverse comfort audio (the very first mention of Vega) the desc says: "not with a bang but a whimper"

And in Vega's first video (with Freelancer) the desc reads: "between the emotion and the response falls the shadow"

In his first video with him in department custody, the desc is: "between the essence and the descent falls the shadow"

And in the next: "between the motion and the act falls the shadow".

All of these are lines from the same poem and the poem itself is full of references to death and fading stars and eyes and kingdoms and the world ending and all fun theory things that suddenly all seem VERY important and familiar!!!!

[dnangelic]

the hollow nonviolence but nevertheless heavily palpable longing and empty vastness of daisuke's heart. post

[martianbugsbunny]

Obsessed with "my power comes from here, it comes from..." *gestures at his heart* "...and it's broken"

[hillerskaroyals]

decided to switch things up and rewatch the first 4 min of season 1 and the tone is so different but also quite similar?

the first 4 min are the fight at the club and the beginning of wille's speech saying he's going to hillerska. it sets the tone that he's going to be this bratty privileged kid who's used to everything going his way and throws a fit when his parents tell him no but it also sets the tone that he's going to be alone.

whereas season 2 opens on him totally broken. the only 'happiness' wille experiences is a dream and once he's awake he walks through the palace like a ghost. he doesn't talk to or look at anyone. he physically shuts kristina out when he closes the door on her and although we see his responses to august we don't actually see him send them. he doesn't acknowledge anyone.

both seasons start with wille alone but the difference is this time he's also lonely. in s1 when he got sent to hillerska he was alone but he wasn't lonely because he could still text or call erik if he wanted to talk (like on parent's day and before rowing practice) but this time? he's lost his brother and has both loved and lost simon. he has no one. we know at some point he talks with felice but at this point in time he is well and truly on his own.

the opening of s1 was purposefully misleading because we had to meet the characters and get to know them to understand their motives. but by the second episode wille was already friends with simon and still had erik. but this season? all bets are off. we know how things were left. even though wille and simon didn't end on bad terms they still ended. ngl i was originally skeptical when all the actors kept saying s2 was darker because s1 was plenty dark. but after that opening. after feeling the hopelessness and grief wille's experiencing? i fear we've only begun to scratch the surface of how far wille is willing to go now that he has nothing to lose.

[dbphantom]

you know if you guys voted for stretch armstrong i probably would have shut up a lot sooner tonight

[kickbutts-singsongs]

YOU LIKE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA!!

what is your favourite song omgomg

OMG DONT MAKE ME CHOOOOOOOOOOSE

Obvi the title song slaps, All I Ask of You is so sweet, Think of Me makes me jealous of sopranos cuz I can’t sing all the high notes, Prima Donna is fun, Music of the Night uhh did things to me lol, Angel of Music is so soothing, and Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again made me tear up a bit.

I can’t narrow it down to just one, so imma say my top three are:

Music of the Night (especiallyyyyy the Ramin Karimloo version from the 25th anniversary)

Phantom of the Opera (nuff said)

and Point of No Return (the movie version)

It’s so good to see a fellow Phan!!!!! 🤩🤩🤩

[somewherebetweenrage]

BOLD what your muse can do. italicize what they can do to some extent.

bake a cake from scratch | ride a horse | drive a submarine | speak a second language | dance | catch a fish | play an instrument | throw a punch | build a deck | ice skate | roller skate | unclog a drain | program a computer | change a flat tire | fire a gun | sew | juggle | play poker | paint | fly a kite | sculpt | write poetry | change a diaper | sing | shoot a bow and arrow | ride a bike | swim | sail a boat | do a back flip | play chess | give cpr | pitch a tent | flirt | stitch a wound | read palms | use chopsticks | write in cursive | use an electrical drill | braid hair | make a campfire | make a mixed drink | do sudoku puzzles | wrap a gift | give a good massage | jump start a car | roll their tongue | magic tricks | do yoga | tie a tie | skip a rock | shuffle a deck of cards | read morse code | pick a lock

Tagged By: stolen from @acertainfemininemystique <3

Tagging: @defectivexfragmented (Bucky) , @wcrriorhearts (your choice) , @shieldretired , @itsybitsypeterparker , @survivorofhellskitchen & whoever else wants! <3

[kingalistairtheirin]

The fact that James McAvoy and Michael Fassbender are both unapologetically and unironically team Magneto is literally just so good so perfect

[halcoded]

i've been trying to think of identity-affirming clothing i could get for myself since most of our clothes aren't really things i'm super keen on wearing... but literally all that comes to mind is that i want to be dressed like a stagehand. you know. so you know you're not supposed to look at me.

[bertoyana]

i'm so sorry i don't want to be the "the party ended 5 years ago and he's still here" person but dark phoenix's final scene is still SO funny to me. especially to see how erik plays charles like a fiddle

like: he shows up with NO helmet AND a chess set. (he did this last time in days of the future past, and it worked, right? so it should work again, right? right???)

so, he sits, completely uninvited mind you, and he tries (and fails terribly bless his heart) at starting a normal conversation, he asks charles about his retirement, probably trying to get charles to like, talk about it or whatever

(rip erik's hairline)

charles is not having any of it, which... valid. the last time he and erik had a full conversation, erik told him to shut the fuck up 

anyways, erik realizes his failed attempt at being casual did NOT work like he wanted, so he pulls out plan b - he calls charles his old friend (which, if you pay attention, in the prequels they use 'old friend' as a term to de-escalate the situation)

which WORKS, for some reason, and charles immediately deflates and gives erik the tiniest smile in existence, because erik showing he cares always seems to do it for charles lmao

(he's so embarrassing . god bless. @ x men: is this your leader)

anyhow, erik pulls out the second part of his plan b - he asks charles if he wants to play a game. still playing casual. just two buddies. just two guys. some guys. just some friends having a toootal normal n casual conversation.

and you can immediately see charles close himself up, he crosses his arms and avoids looking erik in the eye. erik managed to soften him up with the 'old friend' and having his helmet off, but it's not enough YET so erik pulls out his plan c. luckily his last one, christ, charles really does like to keep them waiting doesn't he

keep an eye on erik's entire demeanor in this scene, his position is not closed off like charles', he's open, he leans on the table, and maintains eye contact with charles. his head is tilted to one side and everything, completely harmless

i'm so obsessed with charles' microexpressions here james mcavoy you are so insane

anwyays, charles uncrosses his arms and his position does come off a little more open, but if you watch the scene you can see him shake his head. this obviously touches him - but he's probably intending to say still no. probably because he has the biggest martyr complex i've ever seen in a fictional character 

so, erik pulls up his fucking plan d (lol) and hopefully this time IT WILL be the last. he pulls the pawn out of his jacket pocket.

(why the fuck is this played like a fucking romantic scene i'm so serious, why is he smiling to himself like that)

mind you, erik had the pawn in his pocket the entire time, which could mean either of two things:

charles looks surprised/confused the entire scene, but in THIS part he doesn't look confused, he just looks like he's still trying to figure out what erik is trying to do. so it either means erik makes charles play this 'guess where it's hiding' game all the time (????) which doesn't really sound likely for him to do, but erik is always begging charles to get into his head so it wouldn't surprise me if he actually did this every time. god knows he's desperate enough or

erik was expecting charles to reject his offer right away, and had multiple other plans shoved up his ass if this was the case. this also seems likely, he's obsessive enough to have thought multiple ways through. 

anyways, he puts his two fists up and pulls up the most mortal sentence in existence. one he knows charles won't be able to deny him

"just ONE game 🥺 for old time's sake???? 🥺🥺🥺" man stfu you are 62 years old GET UPPPP 

anyways - pay attention to his wording. 

"just one game" because erik came ALLLL this way for charles, so charles might as well play ONE game with him, and then erik could be gone - if charles wanted it that way. 

"for old's time sake" when things were easier and when they were more at peace - when they were on each other's side. when they were together and the mansion, just after charles had saved him and gave him a hom- oh wait 

(also, there's 100% a hidden meaning here. and there’s also a 100% chance i’m reaching but idc. the pawn could be in his left hand or his right. the possibility is 50/50. the only way charles could know with 100% certainty was if he entered erik's mind - if he took up erik's offer. but he could also not get into erik's mind and just... guess and fail - by thus, not taking erik's offer. erik is giving him an out, a choice to make the first move)

(and the chess piece he offers charles a WHITE pawn. the white pieces are the first ones to move. 

also also if you have paid attention to the previous movies, erik is always the one to use the white pieces, this is the first movie where we see charles play with white)

anyways, charles does struggle a bit with the choice, but ultimately he decides to accept erik's proposal and """guesses""" right.  

and going from erik's... entire face and smirk lmao i'm guessing charles went into his head to get it right. mind you, this is like sex for them

charles accepts - erik is very relieved to know he's not the only one who's down horrendously. and after the worst guessing game in history (seriously, the pawn was in erik's right pocket and then he had it hidden in his right hand... man i guessed that shit and i'm not even a telepath) they start rearranging the board

so anyway, erik gives charles this look like he wants to climb him like a tree, which means that playing edward 'down embarrassingly bad' rochester in jane eyre (2011) finally fucking paid off

erik doesn't even blink mind you, and charles doesn't take his eyes off erik either way, which means they are just STARING at each other without blinking for god knows how long LMAOOO 😭😭😭

once everything is said and done, erik makes a silly little joke and charles rebuts. then erik gives him the biggest smile i've ever seen him give to someone since magda, and then he follows it up with a smaller, softer smile with no teeth

seeing this for the first time in the theater was like getting shot in the chest, no joke

mind you erik stopped trying like three minutes ago but for some reason, the first time we finally see charles soften up in the ENTIRE movie is after he sees erik smiling at him. which could mean nothing.

and the thing is: charles does have a big heart, and he means well, most of the time, but he also doesn’t necessarily has… the best way of showing it with his actions lol. erik knows this, and he knows charles has a thing for lost causes, for people the society has given up on. charles threw himself into the freezing water to save erik - even when he didn't KNOW him. 

AND he also knows charles has the biggest soft spot for him, he KNOWS - because all those years ago, charles' biggest accussation wasn't "you paralyzed me" it was "you left me". because after erik lost his wife and daughter, charles rushed to find him, to make sure he was okay. because nine years ago, charles looked at apocalypse and said "fuck you you are twisting erik's grief, and you are hurting him" to A GOD BTW. TO HIS FUCKING FACE NO FUCKS GIVEN AT ALL

tldr: call erik the fucking violinist because boy he sure knows how to play charles like a fucking instrument and how to press all the right keys to get him to say yes to him. he gave charles an out if he didn't want to come with him, but he also came PREPARED for it, mind you, he came PREPARED to take charles with him to genosha. he didn't get to take charles with him 30 years ago, and he was going to be dammed if he didn't take charles with him NOW (this time with no bullet wound and no helmet lol)

and the most insane thing to me is, that he knows charles has a soft spot for him, he's known this for 30 years, and yet, the only time he uses it in his favor is to get charles to say yes to him on this. the only time he uses it is when he thinks he can do something to help charles - to give him back all the kindness charles gave to him 30 years ago. 

anways i'm insane. i'll be back here eating glass if you need me. i'm so normal about them. simon kinberg broke something in me 5 years ago

[claws-and-quills]

Hot Blooded

A/N: This takes place during Days of Future Past. There's just something about Logan dressed in those tight ass jeans and wearing that silk button-up that just does something to me.

CW: Breeding Kink, Some Choking, Oxygen Deprivation, Overstimulation, Oral (female receiving), Unprotected Sex, Mentions of Blood, Marking, Primal Dom!Logan, Jealous!Logan, implied age gap, established relationship, Mentions of Male and Female Anatomy

Genre: Smut, some Fluff at the end

Pairing: DOFP!Logan x Fem Reader

The club was packed shoulder to shoulder with a sea of dancing bodies. 70's disco blared over the speakers loud enough to make the bones in your body vibrate with every beat of the bass. Sure, you and Logan had been sent back into the past to fix and repair things between Charles and Erik, but that didn't necessarily mean that you were going to be a stickler the entire time. What better way to blend in than this? While you were jovial and lively, Logan remained more on the stoic side of things.

He watched you closely while you leaned over the pool table. His eyes slowly dragged across the curves of your breasts and waist, then along the curves of your ass and thighs. The spandex pants you wore clung to your curves in all the right places. His eyes trail back up along the length of your legs and the subtle curve of your back just above your hips. Reaching into the front pocket of his jacket, he pulls out a cigar and places it between his lips. Lighting the end of the cigar, he takes in a slow drag from it; the smoke slowly curls and swirls into the air from the flame.

“It's not rocket science, bub. C'mon, it can't be that hard, now can it?” He husks, smoke slowly billows from his mouth and nose as he speaks. You could feel his body against yours as he leans over you, resting his hands over yours to help you line up your shot against the number 2 ball. “Nice and easy, draw back, and shoot.”

The cue ball collides against the 2 and sinks it into the corner pocket. “Good girl. Now, let's see if you can do it to the 4 ball. Just like I showed you.” He pulls away to watch you. Your heart was pounding in your chest and ears. Parts of you wishing he hadn't pulled away. The overpowering aroma of rustic oak, leather, mint, and tobacco lingered in your senses. He smelled heavenly to you, and looked even better. You lift your gaze to be fixed on him. He was a fine piece of work indeed. Your eyes follow him as he walked around to the other side of the table, his eyes trained on you. There's a cocky smirk at his lips as his eyes trailed down to the teasing amount of cleavage your crop top had been showing off.

“Enjoying the view, Logan?” You finally ask with cocky confidence as you line up your shot against the 4 ball. Cursing under your breath as it rolls just short of the pocket. Perhaps you had spoken too soon, not that you minded. Despite his stoic exterior, Logan looked to be in his element. He was already a few beers deep into the evening and seemed to be enjoying himself with you even though you had to practically drag him out here.

“Don't go gettin’ too cocky now, bub. There's still plenty to go. We're just gettin’ started,” he exhales another plume of smoke before grabbing up his poolstick. You couldn't help but stare and drag your eyes across his body. The way his hair was slicked back, the first two buttons of his shirt were undone, showing off a teasing amount of hair on his chest. His dog tags hung lazily around his neck, drawing your attention to them. A familiar heat began to grow between your thighs, but who could blame you? There was something about seeing this side of Logan.

You prop yourself up onto a stool that sat catty-corner to the pool table. Grabbing up your bottle of beer and tipping your head back, you take a long drink while watching Logan. He was definitely beating your ass at this game of pool, but you didn't mind it. In fact, you were enjoying yourself a little too much to even care if you lost this game. You were far too engrossed in the atmosphere. The blaring music, flashing lights, the sea of bodies that covered the dance floor, the stylish clothes, but most of all, you got to have this moment with Logan. You watch intently as he sank several of the striped pool balls into the pockets around the table.

The atmosphere of the nightclub almost hypnotized you. It was so easy to lose yourself. Your body swayed slightly in rhythm with the melodies of the songs that blared over the speakers. It wasn't until you heard an unfamiliar sound of someone clearing their throat that you tuned back into reality. Your brows furrowed slightly at the sight of an unknown man leaning against the table. He rested an elbow on the table, his eyes trained on you which made you shift your weight and lightly tug at the hem of your top, adjusting its position to try to cover yourself from the prying eyes of the stranger.

“What's a foxy mama like you doin’ sittin’ here all by yourself? You look like you're ready to be jivin’. C'mon, let me show ya a good time.” The man gives you a wink and steps closer to you. The expression you held didn't seem to be enough to deter him away. “C'mon, don't be playin’ hard to get. A fine piece of ass like that oughtta be down for a piece of this. C'mon, babe. What's it gonna take?”

You feign a fake smile, setting your beer down and gesturing with your head towards the pool table where Logan had just aggressively struck the cue ball against the striped 9 ball. “It's gonna take you gettin’ through him. You're welcome to be my guest, but truthfully, I really wouldn't advise it.”

The man follows your gaze. He let's out a hefty snort of laughter. Something about his body language told you that this wasn't going to end well. “Pffft, you have got to be trippin’. Don't tell me you seriously came here with your Pops. Hey! Hey Pops! You mind if I borrow your daughter here for a quick sec?!” The man calls out over the music towards Logan. You swallow dryly at the death glare that glazed Logan's eyes. His eyes narrowed at the close proximity that this stranger had to you. In that moment, the small crowd of people that had been occupying the pool tables and dartboards had shifted their attention towards you, Logan, and this stranger.

Logan sets the poolstick down across the table. His movements were rigid and deliberate; his eyes never leaving from the stranger as he approached the table you sat at. He reaches in front of the stranger, placing himself in the middle of you and him as he grabs his glass of whiskey and tosses it back with ease. He stands there in silence for a few moments before curling an arm around your shoulders. There's a smug smirk at Logan's lips as he does so, as though daring this fool to say something else. You lean into his embrace, wrapping an arm around his waist after sliding your arm underneath his leather jacket. He arches a brow at the stranger, inclining his head just slightly. You could feel how the muscles along his back and sides tensed and flexed with the movement.

“Perhaps you didn't hear me the first time, Pops. But since you're right here, guess I'll go ‘head and ask ya again. You mind if I steal your daughter away here for a little bit? It's a Saturday night, and she is just lookin’ foxy as hell. And you, well, you look like maybe you can use a night to yourself. Y'know, can go get your jive on.” The stranger very stupidly jokes towards an unfazed Logan. The corners of Logan's mouth pull into a tight smile, causing the corners of his eyes to crinkle slightly as he forces out a hearty laugh. This leads to the stranger and his subsequent group of friends to also erupt into laughter.

“I heard you loud and clear the first time, bub. Either you're incredibly ballsy, or incredibly stupid to ask me the same question twice.” Logan gently pulls away from you to step towards this stranger. Logan towered over the man with ease. “Now…do yourself the favor, and get out of here kid.”

You watched intensely at the exchange between the two. Of the years you've known Logan, never had you ever seen this side of him before. Seeing this side of him had you turned on and wanting more. Judging by the body language on Logan, this wasn't going to end well at all. You slide off the barstool, moving to stand beside Logan. “Lo…just leave this putz be. He's not worth getting riled up over. Besides, we have a game to finish.” You press your body against his arm while rubbing his chest. You could feel the way the muscles of his pectorals rippled and flexed. A groan falls from your lips as the stranger opens his mouth again, and Logan gives you a look worth a thousand words.

“Look, I'm jus’ sayin’, dude. An old man like you can't possibly keep up with a fox like her. So why don't you go back to your little game, an’ let me jus’ take–” Before the stranger can finish his sentence, Logan slugs him across the jaw, followed by kicking the knees out from under the man. You cover your mouth in both shock and amusement as the scene unfolds before you. The stranger is obviously dazed and confused on the ground. Logan snatches him by the scruff of his collar with a menacing snarl.

“Now listen here, bub. I tried to be nice. I did. But you just don't know when to shut the fuck up. Keep your fucking hands and eyes off my girl. Get out of here, you're not worth the fucking time,” Logan threatens, kicking the stranger in the ribs. The poor putz scrambles to get to his feet, tripping on his own feet while shooting a death glare towards Logan. He returns his attention towards you, snaking an arm around your waist to pull you against his body. You knew damn good and well that Logan wasn't one for public displays of affection, but his possessiveness over you turned you on beyond comprehension.

“Someone is getting jealous. He isn't even worth getting riled up over, Lo. Let's just enjoy ourselves while we can.” You say lowly while rubbing his chest. A small smirk tugged at the corners of your lips while you fiddle with the button on his shirt. He could smell the arousal that pooled between your thighs. “Or…we can ditch this place all together.”

“I thought you'd never ask.” He husks under his breath. Inclining his head, he gestures for you to head towards the exit of the club. His eyes were now trained on you as he followed closely behind. Every step he took was calculated, deliberate, and held purpose. Once outside, he shrugs out of his leather jacket to offer it to you as you both approach his motorcycle. “Once we get to the hotel, that ass is mine.”

A high pitched yelp escapes your lips at the sudden sting of his hand colliding against your ass. The spandex pants you wore didn't help one bit. The small layer of fabric didn't provide much protection for your ass. The skin there burned from the initial impact, but you knew you wanted more. You watch as Logan gives you a satisfied smirk while swinging a leg over his motorcycle while he waits for you to get situated behind him. You wrap your arms around his waist, resting your hands near the insides of his thighs. As he kick starts the engine, the vibrations of the rumbling engine made you want to squeeze your thighs together. Once you nod against his back, he revs the engine, speeding out of the parking lot.

The wind whipped through your hair as Logan weaved through the traffic on the streets. The night life was so much different from what you were used to back home. Parts of you wished you could stay in this time, this moment. You pull yourself closer against his back, one of your hands crept closer towards the inseam of his jeans and inching closer towards the ever growing bulge hidden beneath the fabric of his jeans. You eagerly palm his hardening cock through his jeans. A soft ‘fuck’ falls from his lips, only to be swept away in the icy wind of the night. The ride back to the hotel felt like it would never end. Throughout the entire ride, you agonizingly teased him and palmed his throbbing cock to the point the sexual frustration was beyond evident in his eyes. He brings the motorcycle to a screeching halt in the parking lot of the hotel, where he eagerly disentangles himself from your arms.

“You're fucking mine. You've been driving me crazy all fuckin’ night dressed like that.” Logan growls as he stands and pulls you against his chest. His lips crash into yours for a feverent and needy kiss. His hands grips your hips, nails digging into the tender flesh just above the waistband of your pants.

“Then make me yours. I'm all yours.” You breathe into the kiss. The primal growl that came from Logan, rumbled through his entire body. The hunger in his eyes made every fiber in your burn. You needed him to fuck you, to claim you. Using his height and body, he guides you to back up towards the entrance of the hotel. Once you manage to turn your back to him, he's following behind you again like a hungry wolf that's ready to devour you.

Your words drive him over the edge. He fumbles with the key-card to get into the room. His lips and breath are hot and demanding against the hollow of your neck. Once the door is open, you both nearly tumble to the floor in a frenzy of needy touches, kisses, and hands roaming across the spanse of each other's bodies. Logan's hands find their way to the bottom most curves of your ass, hefting you up against his body. Your legs wrap around his waist as he pushes you against the wall in a heated kiss. His teeth scrape against your lower lip, asking for entrance into your mouth. Obeying, your lips part and his tongue eagerly roams and explores the inside of your mouth. The kiss swallows your pitiful and needy moans as you taste Logan. You could still taste the faint remnants of whiskey and cigar on him, but it was intoxicating. Your hands eagerly work away the buttons of his shirt, roaming across his chiseled chest.

He slowly ruts his hips against yours. The friction elicits a heated whimper from you. “Logan, please…” you plead pitifully, raking your nails down his chest.

“Please what?” He growls while sucking on your lower lip. “Use your words.”

“Fuck me, Logan. Fuck me. Make me yours. Ruin me…” Another gasp falls from your lips as you're carried over to the bed, where he roughly sets you down. His lips crash against yours again; his hands grip your hips with a bruising strength before roaming up your body to just below your breasts. His fingers hook the hem of your crop top, pulling the fabric up and over your head and arms. Another moan is pulled from your lips at the rough sensation of his beard against the sensitive skin between the valley of your breasts. His mouth leaves a trail of hot kisses down your chest and abdomen, his tongue dipping into your navel before sinking his teeth harshly into the flesh just above your hip.

“Logan…Oh fuck…” you mewl helplessly as you lean back onto your elbows and kick your shoes off. He merely responds with another primal growl, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your pants and eases them down your thighs, tossing the garments somewhere across the room. Your eyes flutter as he kisses and nips a trail along the inside of your thighs. The scruffiness of his beard scratches at your skin, making you involuntarily try to close your legs, but he growls in protest, curling your legs over his broad shoulders. He locks gazes with you while placing a hungry but chaste kiss over your clothed clit. The dampness of your arousal against your panties grew more with every aching second that passed.

“Keep those legs open. I'm just getting started with you,” he commands through a husk against you. Using two fingers, he tugs your panties to the side to expose your glistening cunt. The hunger in his eyes grew more primal as he eagerly dipped his head into you. His tongue dragging agonizingly slow through your slick folds. His moan vibrates against your clit and quivering pussy as his mouth encases your clit. His tongue draws tight, deliberate circles around your bundle of nerves. He pulls away just enough to grab your panties into his other hand, tearing the flimsy fabric in half and tossing it haphazardly over his shoulder. Your fingers find their way into his hair, gripping tightly and guiding his head back towards your needy cunt.

“Oh fuck…fuck…Logan…” you mewl at the sensation of the heat of his mouth against your clit. Your eyes flutter again as his tongue works you like a puppet. Every flick against your clit sent bolts of electricity through your body. He groans against you at the sensation of your nails digging into his scalp. Without warning, he plunges two thick fingers into your sopping pussy, earning a pleasurably pained squeal from you. A soft whimper escapes you as he pulls his fingers out, only to ram them into you again, this time deeper. Your walls flutter around his fingers, signaling to him to slowly fuck his fingers in and out of your needy cunt while he continued to eat you out. Soon enough, the room is filled with the squelching sounds of your pussy being ravaged by Logan.

With every pump, twist, and curl of his fingers, the fire in your belly grew hotter and hotter. You began to instinctively grind your hips onto his fingers and mouth. The harshness of the stubble on his chin left your legs trembling. With every flutter of your walls, Logan worked his fingers deeper into you, curling them upwards against your g-spot. The sensation makes your vision go white for a split second as you beg for him to do it again. He flicks his tongue against your clit in rhythm with the way he fucked his fingers deeply into you. This was enough to make the coil in your stomach become harder to control. Your thighs began to tremble and shake, the walls of your pussy convulsing as your orgasm grew nearer.

“L-Logan! Oh fuck!” You cry out helplessly as the first wave of your orgasm rocks through your body. He pulls his fingers out, your squelching orgasm following right behind. There's a dark chuckle that rumbles in his chest as he eagerly laps up your orgasm. Your legs tremble uncontrollably as you try to push him away. The sinful sounds of your squirting orgasm splashing against his chin and onto the floor fills the room. You cover your mouth to muffle the squeal that is pulled from deep within your chest. With every panting breath, your chest rises and falls, gasping for air.

“Fuck…you're doing so well. So good. I'm not finished with you.” He spoke gruffly. You lift your head to gaze at him. His chin, throat, and chest all glistened with remnants of your orgasm. His hair was a disheveled mess; his shirt bunched up and wrinkled around his waist. You swallow thickly at the prominent bulge in his jeans. He makes quick work of unbuttoning his shirt and throwing it somewhere across the room. His eyes drank in your form, dragging across the curves of your body. “Turn over. Hands and knees. Now.”

Just as you turn to get onto your hands knees as commanded, you hear the familiar clink of his belt buckle falling against the floor. After kicking off his jeans and boxers, he kneels behind you, swiping his fingers through your pussy once again. You grip the sheets in your fists at the sensation of him slowly dragging the head of his cock through your slick folds. Lining himself up properly, he slams into you, snapping his hips and burying his entire length inside of your sopping cunt. He snakes an arm around you, his hand finding your throat, digging his thumb and index into your pulse. He leans into you, forcing your knees deeper into the mattress as his chest presses against your back.

“When I'm finished with you, no other man is gonna lay his eyes on you. Everyone is gonna know just who you belong to.” He husks against the shell of your ear, earning a needy whimper from you. As he sits back up onto his knees, he drags his nails down your throat and chest, across your abdomen, and up onto your hip. He sinks his thumbs into the dimples just above the crest of your hips, pulling out of you, only to slam into again. His movements are forceful, powerful, and deliberate. Each snap of his hips rocks your entire body.

The grip he used to hold onto you with was bound to leave bruises, but you didn't care. You wanted him to mark you as his own, to claim you, to ruin you for any other man. Small, pitiful squeaky moans escape you with every thrust that rocks through your body. The room is soon filled with the sounds of the bed creaking, mixing into the symphony of pitiful squeaks and moans that Logan is able to force out of you, and the sinful sounds of skin colliding against skin. You pant raggedly, gripping the sheets tightly and biting onto the corner of a pillow as tears pricked the corners of your eyes.

He drags a calloused hand up the length of your spine, stopping at the nape of your neck, where his fingers become entangled into your hair. He tugs harshly, pulling your head away from the pillow, your mouth falls open into a small ‘o’, a symphony of broken profanities fall from your lips. You manage to catch a glimpse of him from over your shoulder. The veins in his arms bulged slightly under his skin, small beads of sweat decorated his chest in a slick sheen of moisture that made his skin glisten in the pale moonlight. His hips snap against your, hitching forward as he grinds his cock deep into your sweet, tight, pussy.

“Fuck…you feel so good on my cock. You're taking me so well. Look at you…fucking beautiful.” He husks while leaning down to kiss and bite the back of your shoulder. His canines sank deep into your flesh, threatening to draw blood. You cry out helplessly at the searing pain. Hot blood pricks at your skin; the pain is soothed at the sensation of Logan's tongue tracing the rapidly bruising skin with his tongue. A shaky whimper falls from your lips as he pulls out, resting on his knees. “Turn over. Wanna see that pretty face while I fuck a baby into that tight, little pussy.”

Your legs felt like jello beneath you. He releases your hair, grabbing onto your hips to help roll you onto your back. His eyes rake over your body, snarling grin as he licked his lips. Your blood still fresh on his tongue; the metallic taste drove him wild. You weren't sure what came over Logan, but you wanted everything he had in store for you. Cupping a hand under one of your knees, he hikes it up onto his hip, placing his other hand on the mattress next to your head as he buries his entire girthy length into you again. Your eyes flutter at the sensation of being filled by him again. Your chest rose and fell with every gulp of air you tried to suck down while he fucked you into the mattress. Small grunts and growls fell from his lips, mixed in with small words of praise towards you.

You curl your legs around his waist, pushing him in deeper. This encourages him to lean over you completely, his forehead pressed against yours. His dog tags dangle carelessly around his neck, swinging with every hitch and snap of his hips against yours. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you pull him into a needy and breathy kiss. Your tongues meet in a flurry of passion, allowing you to taste the remnants of your orgasm on his breath. His hand finds its way back to your throat; his fingers digging into your pulse and making your head spin at the sudden lack of oxygen. Your eyes flutter as a familiar coil begins to twist in your stomach. Within seconds it's impossible to hold back. Your walls flutter and contract around his cock as your second orgasm surges through your body, blurring your vision.

“Oh fuck. Such a messy girl. So fucking messy.” He groans against your lips. Slowly, he moves his head to the valley between your breasts. His breath is hot and needy; his tongue swirls around the tender bud of one of your nipples before sucking it into his mouth. Your back arches upwards into him at the sensation. His hand slides down your side and onto your other breast. The roughness of his hand felt heavenly on your silky smooth skin as he massaged your breast, rolling and pinching your nipple between his thumb and index finger, earning a high pitched squeal from you.

Within moments, he switches the positions of his hand and mouth. Your nipples grow hard and achy at the attention. Your thighs quiver and tremble around his waist. You knew there was no way you could last much longer. Every fiber in your body felt ablaze as you chanted his name like a sinful prayer while your eyes flutter. Gripping his hair, you eagerly pull his head from your aching breasts. A string of saliva being the only thing still connected between his demanding mouth and your aching nipple.

“Lo…fuck…please…” You pant, unable to form a coherent sentence. The coil developing in your abdomen was growing tighter. There was born possible way you could cum for a third time, but the hungry look in Logan's eyes said everything his mouth didn't. The way his hips stuttered against yours, you knew that he was getting close to his orgasm as well.

“Fuck…M’close too…gonna fill you up, pretty girl.” He growls, gripping the headboard in his fist until his knuckles turned white. You drag your nails down his back, digging your heels into the back of his thighs. Your walls clench around him tightly, sending him over the edge. You gasp as his claws sink into both the mattress and the wall as he paints the inside of your quivering cunt white. The searing warmth of his cum fills and warms you straight to the core. Your nails sink deep into the flesh of his shoulders as your third orgasm wrecks your body, filling the room in squelching sounds.

His hips slow against yours, slowly coming to a stop as he pants heavily against your shoulder. Your legs slowly fall from his waist, trembling uncontrollably from the overstimulation. A small ‘fuck’ comes from his lips as he lifts his head to gaze down at you. Once you both come down from your highs, he retracts his claws and pulls you into a tight embrace, tenderly caressing your arms and back.

“Fuck…did I hurt you? Shit…” He peppers your cheeks in tender kisses as he cradles you. His thumb tenderly caresses the bruising and bleeding bite mark he left on the back of your shoulder. “I got too carried away…”

“Ssshhh….it's okay. I…I liked it…” You assure him and rub his chest. He presses a tender kiss to the crown of your head as he stands up, still cradling you on his arms and walking with you to the bathroom for a much needed hot bath.

“Still though…I got too carried away, bub. Way too carried away…” It was the closest to an apology you'd probably get out of him, but you were satisfied with that. He let's you lay against his chest in the hot water, his thumbs drawing small circles on your hips. You lean into the crook of his chest, sighing contentedly while pressing a chaste kiss over his heart.

“I love you, Logan…”

“I love you too…”

[cusimmrbrightside]

I have always liked the idea of the school for mutants being very literally a school, and I know yes it is but I mean in the sense of if you want to be an X-men, you have to be a teacher. They have exams at the end of years, they have Ofsted checks (for those who don’t know what they are, it’s essentially people coming to check that the school is good at being a school) and they have teachers for every subject, which brings me to my next point;

“I’m Right You’re Wrong, Here’s What The X-Men (‘97 specifically) Would Teach As Subjects”.

(Also this is based off of UK school system but I use American terms like “seniors” and “AP” and “Midterms”)

Maths Teacher Gambit is surprising, for a guy most assume to not being entirely smart, an idiot goof off who’s the comedic relief. But you need to know numbers to gamble, and that he does with being very well versed in mathematics way past an AP level. He’s made the promise for every senior class that he will teach them to play blackjack on the final day, and has only ever lost once. Which is when the rule of “no betting real money” came into place.

English teacher Jean reminds me of the kind of teacher who would let the social outcasts into her class for their lunch breaks. The kids more likely to be bullied and she will fight tooth and nail to make sure those kids bullies don’t come into that classroom. they’re loud and shout and shouldn’t really be in there but no one has to know and she certainly won’t be telling them to leave any time soon.

Physics teacher Magneto is very specific to my highschool experience I’ll be honest. I had a physics teacher who was an actual Dr with a PHD and he hated being there. His classroom has (well, had since the building was knocked down about 5 years ago now) this one cabinet that was never fully shut, it was always open just about an inch or two, and he’d stand with his foot hovering just above it and then slam down on it whenever we got too loud so the noise would shut us up. That’s very magneto coded. Erik Lehnsherr would purposefully make the cabinet always a little open so he can do that.

Biology teacher morph is just a funny concept, a person whose physical form and change and morph into just about anything. They are considered one of the “fun” teachers, you could easily convince them to let you watch a movie all class as long as it was biology centred, but with classics like Osmosis Jones, you’re not stuck watching a documentary about animals giving birth.

Chemistry teacher Storm does not fuck about with children’s education. She is not strict by any means whatsoever, she just will not bend to someone saying they want to watch a film or should do a practical instead of theory. She has a set curriculum. She knows what she will be doing by the first week of the summer holidays and already has the room set up all pretty and organised.

Geography teacher Scott has the unfortunate job of telling his students that, they just won’t be looking at memorising country flags and politics. But hey!! Rocks are cool!! Beach shores are cool! Lake formations are cool! He’s the vice principal and designated nerd teacher. He once beat the elite four for a student on their copy of Pokémon Red because the student promised they’d do well in their midterms. Yes, he was in his 30s when the game came out, he doesn’t care.

History teacher Logan is a walking fun facts book. He’s exhausted, goes on smoke breaks on every gap of time he has, dislikes his job and will randomly get passionate about one specific topic, and will then dedicate his next 4 classes to that topic. Having been through a lot of modern history with personal experiences, he’s able to bring a lot of souvenirs to show his classes. Bullets, helmets, clothes he once wore hundreds of years ago, his personal memories of basic inventions like the vaccine.

PE (physical education) teacher Rogue is full of fun sports games, you can join any kind of sports team you can imagine and if you ask nicely enough, she’ll put Just Dance on a projector in the sports hall so you can just play that instead of actually play an actual sport. As long as you leave her class exhausted and without time to have a shower before your next class then she’s succeeded in making whoever your next teacher is absolutely miserable (bonus points if it’s Logan with his enhanced sense of smell).

Art teacher jubilee does believe that there is a right way to critique art. And she can be a little in your face about it. She does think you can have wrong opinions especially when it comes to your own art. If she overhears you saying you didn’t something wrong, she’ll scream into a megaphone “adapt, improvise, overcome!”. There are no mistakes! She’s eccentric, bubbly, creative and brilliant, the only one suited for the job.

It wouldn’t be a school without budget cuts. That’s why Nightcrawler is both the languages and religions teacher and he’s beloved at both. He comes up with roleplay scenarios the students can play to help learn their chosen languages, he has varied religious texts in his room and when he says to the students “I’ll pray for toy during exam season” he’s not actually joking.

(I forgot about Hank I’m actually going to cry he’s one of my favourites and I forgot about him. He’ll be in pt two or smth.)

[russian-spider]

"No helmet. I couldn’t disobey you even if I tried" "You're psychic, Charles. You can convince me to do anything"

I know that the most popular interpretation of Erik saying this to Charles is that he has a telepathy kink (valid), but my read of those scenes is somewhat different (not mutually exclusive tho lol)

as I see it, subtext and innuendos aside, what Erik is so very casually doing here is tempting Charles to use his powers in ways that his moral principles prevent him from doing. Erik is saying: if you really want this, then come and get it. You can use your powers to get it, why don't you do it? He's provoking him, teasing him. You could have me, Charles, you could have the world, if only you stopped limiting yourself, if only you were brave enough to get your hands dirty. Because if he can get Charles to be a bit more morally corrupt, then maybe he would see things his way, you know? He's willing to let Charles mind-control him if that means that Charles will mind-control anyone, because doing so means betraying his ideology and embracing Erik's. If Charles mind-controls him, Erik wins this chess game they're always playing. Of course, in those moments, in those scenes when he says that, Erik knows Charles won't do it, so it's safe enough for him to provoke him, to taunt him with the things he doesn't let himself have (because it would be wrong). He won't make Erik stay or obey him just like he won't mind-control the humans. If they're not willing, what is the point? If he forces them, isn't he just as bad as the people that hates them? Doesn't he become exactly what they fear? But there are other moments, when Charles is desperate enough or angry enough, that he actually does invade Erik's mind, like in the comics or more recently in X-Men '97. He does to Erik what he doesn't want to do to anyone, what he refuses to do to his worst enemies, despite how much he loves him. Because the thing is, Erik brings out the worst in Charles... which sounds terrible, but isn't. It actually brings balance to their relationship, I think. Their dynamic is not just Erik doing bad things and Charles being a saint and forgiving him all the time. Charles has a dark side, a manipulative, controlling side that he represses as best as he can. He's afraid of that part of him, of what he could become. But he can be himself with Erik, he can be flawed. Meanwhile, Erik can be vulnerable with Charles, and he can be hopeful. Charles brings out the best in him. Basically Charles is like I can fix him, while Erik is like I can make him worse. And it works for them! They meet in the middle. They push and pull constantly, but the rope never breaks.

So when Charles asks Erik to stay, to join him, Erik says make me, which means give in, cross the line, you join me.

The implication being that he's quite literally using himself as bait to lure Charles to the dark side... which could mean nothing.

[kaznejis]

We're hanging on by a heartbeat- Erik Lehnsherr x Reader

“You’re bringing Hank, right?”  She gritted her teeth, a blush tinging her cheeks as she avoided eye contact, “Yes… not in that way though.”  “I need to borrow him.” “What-” She looked confused at first, but then something clicked; mirth creasing at her eyes and twisting her lips as she cocked her head at you, “Y/N! You want to make Erik jealous.” 

A/N: Thanks for all of the support on my fics!!! every comment, like, reblog and read is GREATLY appreciated. So, enjoy this fun little oneshot I found in my drafts. :)

Word Count: 5,250 / Read it on AO3!

“He’s gonna be there, Y/N,” Raven sighed, swirling her champagne glass as she pursed her lips at you, “Charles practically demanded that he be there despite his refusals, I think he promised him that he’d get you to speak to him.” She accompanied the last words with exaggerated air quotes. 

“Mhm,” You grumbled, fiddling with your outfit in the mirror, “And that means, you are not allowed to leave me unattended. At any point.” 

“Y/N..” 

“Nope,” Turning towards her, splayed out on a chaise in her human form; a gorgeous dress accentuating her figure and her blonde hair flowing down her back in waves; you simply shook your head, face stern as you spoke. “I’m not going down that path again, I’m done with his idiocy.” 

“But… what does that have to do with being left unattended?” A smirk curled at the corners of her lipstick stained lips. You glared right back at her. 

“Because, I can’t-” You exhaled heavily through your nose, clearing the nerves from your chest at the mere thought of speaking to him, “If I speak to him, I will just embarrass myself- he, obviously, does not feel the same way as I feel for him.” 

Raven just sighed, visibly sick of you and Erik’s antics. Behind the guise of being best friends; you and Erik had been playing an erratic, immoral game of cat and mouse, each interaction felt like a step closer to admitting your feelings for him, but then, a subsequent step back at the very same time. He was complicated, to say the least, plagued by the traumas of his past and present. Plagued by the responsibility that he wielded upon his shoulders as a powerful mutant, the expectation of moral compassion; and, the sordid reality of his beliefs. 

You supported him, wholeheartedly, every step of the way. Your own chaotic mutant gene infecting your ability to appear as a normal human being; the green at your irises and the vines that intertwine upon your fingertips only causing fear, despite your god-given purpose being to allow growth. Maybe that’s why the two of you had gotten along so well; both of your powers allow you each to manipulate the foundations of the Earth itself- the ability to shift infrastructure and take lives at the merest of thoughts, at the slightest of movements. the hypothetical extent of what you could do rendered you outcasts, even if you had no desire to inflict pain upon others, they awaited with bated breaths until you would do so. 

Whilst Erik had initially viewed his residence within the school as a prison, you had seen it as a safe haven. The lush meadows and ancient trees that adorned the acres of land called to you, allowing for days spent barefoot amongst the reeds, with only birdsong to accompany you. Erik had paid you little mind at first- having only allowed you fleeting glances at dinner, a nod of the head if he agreed with a point, a slither of a smirk when you amused him. But, soon, he let you in; allowed you into the fortress of his conscience, allowed you to peel back the layers of his anger, and understood his desires for vengeance. You had balanced him out, balanced out the choke of his dark turtlenecks with the flow of your hair; balanced out the harshness of his metal with the brush of petal stems upon your fingertips. 

As your friendship had developed naturally, your feelings had followed. Abrasive, corrosive feelings. Soon enough, Erik plagued your every waking thought; his essence identifiable within the flow of the river, within the dust upon the floorboards, within the quiet of your room upon nightfall. 

He was everywhere, and you couldn’t escape. 

You would find him at breakfast in the morning, laughing obnoxiously at Charles; his teeth glinting in the morning light. You would find him in the classrooms, teaching the children their mandatory mutant history lessons; a transfixing performance of great intelligence, his hands enunciating each and every point. You loved watching him teach, perching upon a desk at the back of his room as he interacted with the children, engaging with their conversations whilst simultaneously wielding the ability to hold the students captivated when delivering a lecture. 

But, most importantly, your favourite place to find him was beside you. He would join you at the lakeside most nights, smiling to himself as you conjured flower after flower, allowing them to flow in the wind, the two of you watching as they found a home upon the tranquil waters. It was there, in the dark and the quiet of nightfall, that you had allowed your feelings to bubble at the surface, allowed your inhibitions to loosen as you had turned to him, studied the sharp features of his side profile; he had turned to you too, an eyebrow raised as he blinked, confused. 

“I was wondering..” You began, fiddling with the petals of a flower within your hands, watching as his loose, plaid shirt fluttered in the wind beside you; a change in his wardrobe that you had inflicted, “Charles is hosting a formal dinner next weekend.” 

Erik huffed, smiling at you; though his lip curled confusedly, “I know, I am the co-head of the school; I signed off on the plan.” 

Idiot, you chastised yourself, of course he knew that. Erik had turned towards you entirely now, his head tilted in intrigue as he stared at you, “Oh- yeah, well I was wondering, if you wanted to-”

“I’m not even sure why Charles would want to host such a thing, I mean, just an opportunity for the kids to drink too much and make a mess of the house.” 

“Yeah, well-” 

“And then one of Charles’ assistants asked me to be her date for it and I-” 

You felt it, in that moment, as your heart splintered within your chest; its foundations shattering and leaving you only able to gape in its wake. Coldness entrapped your body as the remaining petals of the flower within your hand shrivelled and wilted; the once luminescent petals forming a pathetic grey upon your palm. You simply nodded, zoning out and pulling yourself away from Erik’s words as he spoke, unable to hear him any further. You needed to distance yourself, distance yourself from him, from your feelings for him. It would be for the better; allow him to pursue whats-her-face without your claws of envy sinking into his shoulder blades, dragging him away from the semblance of happiness that he deserved. 

“I-I’m sorry Erik,” You stuttered, cutting him off suddenly as his speech screeched to a halt, his eyes widening and form freezing as you halted his words, “I need to go.” You wasted no time in bolting upwards, marching towards the distant lights of the house, not sparing him a single glance backwards. 

“Wait, Y/N-” He called, his voice catching in the breeze as he stumbled into pace behind you, “I’m sorry, did I upset you or-” 

“No, Erik, it’s fine.” You turned them, your hair fluttering before your eyes in the breeze as you watched him as he came to a halt, his face stricken, mouth agape as he stared at you, “You should go with Charles assistant, I bet she’s lovely..” You turned again immediately, sighing in relief as the house grew closer.

“No Y/N, I was actually going to ask if-” 

“Erik.” You snapped, turning once again, for the final time. The levity of your voice brought him to an instant pause, shock prevalent upon his features. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me, you can go with whoever you want to. You don’t owe me anything.” 

“Oh.” Erik was still, his voice low as he watched you, his brows low and his mouth downturned; he seemed, almost, disappointed. Though, his emotional disparity was not your responsibility anymore, “Well, okay, I will then.”

You nodded, a finality; a shallow smile painted itself upon your features, “Good. I look forward to meeting her.” You didn’t wait to see his reaction, making the final journey to the house before swinging open the door and rushing to your room- where you could comfortably wallow in the drawls of your own heartbreak. 

That had been over a week ago; your initial excitement for the formal had dwindled entirely leaving you staring at yourself bleakly as you fiddled with an earring, Raven had continued to watch you; eyebrows raised and mouth curling with mirth. 

“This is ridiculous, Y/N.”

“Raven! He said himself-”

“No, but,” She paused, collecting herself for a moment before leaning towards you, hands clasped upon her lap, “You haven’t seen him.” 

“Of course, I have-” 

“Okay, When was the last time you saw him?” 

You laughed, eyes tight as you refused to make eye contact with her, “I saw him at breakfast this morning.”

“Sure, when was the last time you spoke to him?” 

Pausing, you cleared your throat, she had caught you there. Your own immaturity dawned upon you as you spoke your confession, embarrassment creating a heave in your chest.  “At the lake, last week.” 

“That’s what I thought- I mean, that man is a brooding asshole on the usual day, but since he supposedly professed his feelings for someone else to you? He’s been miserable, wandering the halls like a kicked puppy; if he’s even capable of resembling that.” 

Shaking your head, you huffed, turning to take a hasty swig from your own glass of preparatory champagne, “Maybe she rejected him after all.” 

“Sure, Y/N-” 

Suddenly, as the brevity of the reality which was Erik bringing another woman to the formal, a wicked realisation dawned upon you. “I need a favour.” You blurted, turning to her abruptly. 

“Okay..’

“You’re bringing Hank, right?” 

She gritted her teeth, a blush tinging her cheeks as she avoided eye contact, “Yes… not in that way though.” 

“I need to borrow him.”

“What-” She looked confused at first, but then something clicked; mirth creasing at her eyes and twisting her lips as she cocked her head at you, “Y/N! You want to make Erik jealous.” 

You shrugged, smirking at her; though the sweat at the back of your neck and legs couldn’t be denied, “I just- want to cover my own back, he can’t think that I’m moping and sad over him and another woman-” 

“But, you are.” 

Only sparing Raven a glare as she chortled, you continued, “I just want to let him see that I have my own date, and that… it could’ve been him. To everyone else, we’ll just be going as friends, but- Erik doesn’t need to know that.” 

Before the danger of your plan could pull your mind to a halt, before it could allow your conscience to screech at its own breaks- Raven was up, crossing the span of the dressing room and pulling the door open; telling a nearby student to find and fetch Hank. The young boy nodded obediently, breaking into a sprint down the hallway. Within minutes, Hank appeared in tow; flushed and breathing heavily as he burst into the corridor, half-dressed in his suit as his tie hung loose around his neck. 

“What’s wrong? What’s going on?” Hank panted, a hand planted upon the door frame as he surveyed the room; confusion followed within his features as he surveyed the two of you safe and seated comfortably. Only then, did fear truly grace his features; the dread evident within the tightening of his fingers and grit of his teeth, “What’s…going on?” 

“Sorry, Hank, but you will now be attending the dinner with Y/N.” 

“What?” He spat, his tall frame stalking into the room as he ensured the door was securely closed before truly entering the room, “No offence, Y/N, but I don’t understand- do you want me dead?” 

“What?” You gasped in turn, rubbing a hand against your forehead as you shook your head; Raven had nodded, laughing at his fear as she silently agreed, “Why would you die?” 

The ability to do so being somehow possible, Hank’s voice sunk to a hiss, bowing towards the two of you as sweat formed visibly upon his brow, “Have you seen Erik recently? He would kill me.” 

“Exactly,” Jeering, Raven opened the decanter upon the small table between you, pouring Hank a brimming glass of champagne before refilling her own, he took the drink readily once she offered it to him, taking a gusty swallow as his skin steadily grew paler, or even, bluer. “We need to show him what he’s missing out on-” 

“No, no.” Shaking his head hastily, Hank held his hands up before him, slowly backing towards the closed-door; a supposed attempt to make a fast escape, “I am not being a pawn in your fucked up-” 

“Hank.” Raven whined, cocking her head to the side and moving to expose the skin of her leg; pouting at him endearingly- you could only fake heave at her antics. “Please, for me? Once they’ve sorted their mess out-” 

“Hey-!” 

“We can have a dance together.”

Hank froze, the frost that had covered his cheeks instantly warming with the rush of blood as he blushed, his face taking the features of a dazed fawn as he practically melted beneath Raven’s gaze. He soon recovered though, turning towards you and sighing, scratching at the base of his head, “Fine, I will enter with you and we can have a dance, that is it-” 

“Thank you, thank you.” You interrupted him with a rush of skirts and arms flinging around his neck, peppering kisses to his cheek as you squeezed him, “You are my saviour” 

“Okay, okay-” He laughed, holding you at arms length as to protect the ironed linens of his shirt, a genuine smile lining his cheeks, “I need to finish getting ready, but I’ll meet you outside the entrance at quarter past seven.” 

“Quarter past? Hank it starts at seven.” You pursed your lips in confusion as he only grinned at you, a twinkle shining in his eye. 

“Exactly.” He grinned as Raven gasped, breaking into applause beside you, bravoing Hank humorously as you pulled away from him, to which Hank bowed sarcastically, hand before his stomach like a true guardsman. “We need to ensure that he sees Y/N- so, we enter late; put on a little show.” He wiggled his hips as he spoke, grinning at you fake-enticingly; to which you could only fake-vomit, sticking a finger in your mouth and gagging exaggeratedly as Raven laughed beside you. 

Hank departed then, a wave of a hand to you and a cheesy smile at Raven; that is when the plan jumped into action. Raven surged from her lounged position instantly, moving to check you over; your outfit, your hair, the words you would procure upon entering the formal. With a kiss on the cheek and a wink, she left at exactly 6:55; the door slamming behind the trails of her gorgeous dress. 

Thus, leaving you with a harrowing twenty minutes to stew on your decisions. 

Would Erik even care? Or, would he be too occupied with his supposed date? Gazing at the beauty of her dress and the delicacy of her skin instead of your own, honoured that he could serve as her date instead of wishing he could be yours. You forced yourself to break eye contact with your own reflection; disgusted at the pathetic twist of your features as nerves flooded your guts. Taking a deep breath, you shook your head; if anything, Erik would come to the realisation that you didn’t have feelings for him anymore and this sordid affair would end- you would go back to being best friends, you would swallow the bitter taste of rejection and smile through the burning fires of jealousy as he inevitably grew closer with his date for the night. Maybe the two of you would replace each other entirely, after all. 

At exactly 7:10, you left the room; bridled with nerves as you could do nothing but stare at the same features of the room you had been preparing yourself in for hours. Breath in, breath out- the sound of your heels clicking against the empty hallway resounded upon the halls as the inhabitants of the house were located within the main hall- the sound of conversation and light acoustical music a distant mirage. 

As you walked, you surveyed the walls of the buildings you called home- the murals upon the walls and the gorgeous art-pieces that the residents had collected throughout the years lining the walls. In the rotten depths of your mind, you wondered if this would be it- if you would have to leave, unable to sleep only doors down from Erik and the woman he would soon call his lover. The thought of it made you nauseous, made your knees beg to buckle from the strain of exasperated grief. Grief of what could have been if you had just stayed quiet, content; if you could have just been comfortable within the throes of friendship. 

At the end of it all, you missed him. You missed everything about him- his inherent goods and bads. His anger and his joy; his technicolour darks and lights. You missed the sharp lines of his face, the way his hair curled without the harnessing of a pomade, the prickles of the hairs upon his forearms and the curve of amusement within his lips. 

It took everything within you to not detour to the comforts of your bed, to crawl under the covers and hide for the foreseeable- wait for the inevitable to blow over, for Erik to enter your room and laugh at your sad state, just as a friend would; with no romantic-baggage whatsoever. 

However, before your jailbreak attempt could successfully be enacted; Hank emerged from the adjoining hallway, hands in his pocket and a meagre smile upon his face, “Thought I’d meet you here before you decided to run away.” 

Nodding, you sighed; managing a grateful smile his way as he removed his hands from his pockets and offered his arm to you, to which you took it and began to walk towards the hall’s entrance, “I was just working up the courage to do that.” 

Hank laughed, the motion jostling you slightly as you stopped in front of the entrance, the door was closed; the event readily in motion behind it, “We can back out if you want, you can go in now alone and I’ll come down in a few minutes?”

Shaking your head, you tightened your grip upon his elbow; smiling tightly, your voice cracked slightly as you began to speak, the thought of facing Erik and his date alone the most terrifying imagery in that moment, “I can’t go in there alone.” 

Hank turned to you then, concerned evident within the downturn of his mouth, his hands moved to your shoulders; the weight of them comforting as he sighed, “If anything happens I- we will be there, okay?” 

Nodding, you smiled almost-tearfully up at your friend, your lips curling with emotion as he jostled you; attempting to squeeze some semblance of humour from your state. He beckoned you forward then, one hand upon the door handle and the other curling to rest upon the curve of your waste; that is how you greeted the entire room.  

Due to the old-age of the building, the door creaked almost obnoxiously, the sound ostentatious despite the constant hum of the room. Immediately, you made eye contact with Raven; snorting into her glass as she failed to hide her amusement. Then Charles, his hands hanging in mid-air as if he was performing a speech to the group before him; though his face changed during the moment of eye contact, his eyebrows instantly raising and his lips curling into a smile as he looked into your mind, then to the hand upon your waist and finally to a point across the room. 

You followed his gaze, and you could swear your heart skipped a beat as it landed. 

There, stood Erik; the object of all of your desires, and your afflictions. His demeanour differed greatly from the others in the room, his face was blank; impassive as he met your eye; his hair was neatly slicked back and he adorned a clean, striking black suit. Charming. However, his body language told a different story- the grip at which he held his glass was ironclad, his lips were tight and cheeks haggard; an exact juxtaposition to the sharp cut lines of his suit. 

But, as you searched the space beside, behind and above him; the only thing that you could notice was that he was completely alone. 

Stood at the corner of the room, in his gorgeous suit with his exhaust-tinged eyes; he was alone. Not a date, of any shape or size or form, in sight. 

Your mind only allowed a halting, record-scratch oh fuck before you were herded towards the dancefloor- Charles welcoming the ‘happy couple’ to the crowd, sheer amusement threatening to crumple his confident form as he practically tittered. Hank only rolled his eyes, grinning at you amusedly as he tugged you into the entourage that was beginning to form. You couldn’t bring yourself to smile back. Your breath was quickening, panic flooding your chest as you realised that maybe, possibly you had read this whole situation entirely wrong. As you were whisked upon the dancefloor, a drink shoved into your palm and the waltz of fast-paced conversation already hastily beginning- you used every last essence of your will to build a somewhat passable facade, to not crumple in front of the crowd, to not run towards Erik and beg for his forgiveness, for his attention. 

But, oh, you had thought far too soon. Because, after all, you had garnered his attention the moment your heels resounded throughout the shocked quiet of the room. 

As you surveyed the crowd, Hank’s arm an all-encompassing weight upon your waist- you failed to stop your eyes from passing Erik’s form. He remained in that very same spot, as if he belonged nowhere else, as if he was sculpted upon the very walls of the building. His eyes were fixed upon your form; no matter the step, position or pose you took- his eyes never faltered from you, never wandered; even when Charles came to stand beside him, amusement towards his best friend tinted the rise in his cheeks. The two of them began to converse, the topic being of considerable tension; seeing as though Charles continued to look ever-amused, whilst Erik’s eyes finally dropped from yours- his face visibly swelling in anger as he glared at his shoes. 

“-Y/N? Sorry, Y/N?” 

Shocked, you blinked, turning back towards the conversation before you; two older women stared expectantly at you, you dug your mind for any recollection as to who exactly they were- maybe some form of charitable donors? After a series of agonising seconds, to which it felt like the entire room had gone silent; each participant waiting to see what was plaguing your mind, you spoke- smile cringing as you tilted your gaze towards the air just beside the woman, “Sorry, what was-?” 

“We were asking how long you and Professor. McCoy have been together?” Obnoxiously red-lipped woman-potential-rich-donor spoke, her lips stretching grotesquely as she smiled. 

“Oh, well-” 

“We’ve been dating casually for a few months.” 

“What-” 

“Oh, that is wonderful!” The woman spoke, clapping her satin-gloved hands together and bouncing on her heels. 

“Yeah..” Smiling airily, you ensured that oxygen was correctly being executed from your lungs; that you were definitely awake, alive and breathing. 

“It’s been a whirlwind,” Hank smiled, jostling you with the hand gripping your hip, “Between me and you, things are really starting to heat up-” 

Through the excited gasps of the women you realised with abject horror that Charles and Erik were edging towards your circle; Charles leading Erik with a clutch upon his elbow, to which Erik seemed to be fighting unapologetically. 

As if firing the perfect shot, at the perfect time and place, the red-lipped woman squealed at an obscene volume just as Erik entered perfect earshot, “Oh, just imagine, Y/N McCoy. It’s perfect-”

The sound of a glass shattering splintered throughout the room, halting the conversation and what felt like the very air you were breathing. Blood instantly began pouring from Erik’s hand as the surrounding partygoers jumped back in fear, the entire room watching with wide, halted eyes as he shuck the glass from his grip.

“Erik-” Trembling, you swallowed; feeling your heart hammer within your chest as you watched him, the loosening of Hank’s hand pulling and wrenching at the pit within your stomach. You had well and truly done it this time. 

Erik seemed to ignore you, shrugging off the onlookers that attempted to come to his aid; allowing the air beside your head one last scathing glance before he departed from the crowd, from the room entirely. Wasting no time in following him, you dumped your purse and drink into Hank’s arms before breaking into a full sprint; throwing any sense of formality to the wind as you shoved through the crowd whilst simultaneously calling to his retreating back. 

“Erik, please-” You called as you finally emerged from the crowd, the main doors slamming behind you as you stopped before him. His back was turned, feet poised as if ready to retreat, though he had stopped. Droplets of blood resounded against the linoleum, a steady flow of red dribbling from the cuts upon his hands, “Erik, you need to-” 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Erik’s tone was demanding, his back clenching as he resolutely refused to turn, to face you. 

“What-”

Finally, he turned; spinning on his polished heel and stalking towards you- face practically carved from stone, his gaze bleeding into yours, “Why didn’t you tell me about you and McCoy?” He practically spat Hank’s name, the name convulsing from his lips. 

Scowling, you straightened your back; standing strong as you grit your teeth at him, “Why would that have been any of your business, Erik?” 

Scoffing, he backed away; scrubbing his non-injured hand upon the stubble upon his jaw, almost in disbelief, “Of course- why would it be?” He laughed sardonically, throwing his hands in the air and shrugging his shoulders. 

“What is your problem?” 

He seemed to still, to quiet; his throat bobbling heavily as his eyes bore into you- eventually, he looked away, lip clutched beneath his teeth, “You know what, nothing-” 

“Okay,” You nodded, feigning deep thought, “Let me rephrase then, why do you care?” 

Erik blinked, almost in disbelief, “Come on Y/N- you know exactly-” 

“-Because last I heard, you had a date for this-” 

“-Who told you that?!” 

“You!” You were shouting now, chest heaving at the patchworked conversation presented before you, “You did, Erik!” 

He was truly in disbelief now, shaking his head and struggling to find the words; eventually he settled for one, insignificant word. He practically drawled it, set up a board and sketched out the word at agonising speed, “What?”

Laughing, mostly to yourself, you gestured towards him, “You told me.” At his silence, you opted to continue speaking, “At the lake, you told me you were going on a date with Charles’ assistant.”

“I never-” Erik groaned, hand moving to pinch the bridge of his nose as he sighed; visibly exhausted, “I know for a fact that I did not say that because-,” He was the one to laugh then, hacking at his chest as he forged his words, “-Because, you interrupted me, left and then haven’t looked at me since!” He seemed to check off the series of events on the fingers of his uninjured hand before waving his clenched fist in your direction, “So, I am assured in the knowledge that I did not say that, because I haven’t spoken to you in two weeks!” 

“Okay, well, I have looked at you-” 

“-No, you haven’t.” 

Slamming your mouth shut, you scowled, crossing your arms petulantly; he simply watched you, the turn of his mouth pulling in its usual smug fashion. “Y/N-” 

“Your hand is covered in blood.”

Smiling, he looked down at it, flexing his fingers before turning his gaze back towards you, “I know.” 

“So who did you come with then?” You shrugged, completely disregarding your worries regarding his hand, “Shouldn’t you be with her instead of-” 

“Y/N, you are completely missing the point… I didn’t come with anyone.” 

“Oh,” You breathed, desperately attempting to hide the relief evident within your exhale, “Why?”

“Because that night at the lake,” He exhaled through his nose; his eyes flitting in between your face and the wall as he breathed, he seemed to be trembling slightly as he conjured the words adjacent to his evidently racing thoughts, “I was going to ask if you wanted to accompany me.”

“Oh.” You repeated dumbly, utterly gobsmacked at his words. 

“But, it’s now evident that McCoy beat me to it, so-” 

“Me and Hank aren’t together.” The words left you in a rush, you knew that your wide eyes mirrored Erik’s own perfectly; shock evident within both of your features. 

“Okay-” 

“I completely jumped to conclusions and I thought you were bringing a date, so I- I didn’t want to show up alone so I borrowed Hank…for the night.” 

“You borrowed Hank.”

“...Yes.” 

Erik suddenly burst into laughter; his face morphing to accustom the sudden change in emotion as he outrightly laughed at you. You could only stand there; slightly offended, slightly relieved at the upbringing of events. 

Erik had wanted to ask you to be his date. 

Did Erik have feelings for you?

“Okay, just to be clear, you weren’t asking me to the dinner as f-” Your words were abruptly cut off as Erik suddenly broke into a stride, marching up to you before placing his hands upon your cheeks and pressing his lips to yours completely, inhaling heavily as if he wanted to ingest you, taste you. You immediately kissed back with the same fervour, intertwining your fingers with the short hair upon his head and accustoming your senses to the scent of blood that was now smeared upon your cheeks. 

Eventually, unfortunately, he pulled away; gazing down at you with hooded eyes. You watched as he bit his tongue, the motion tightening his jaw as he stared down at you, vision unguarded; almost unsure. You knew you looked like something straight out of a horror story, blood smeared upon your cheek and the bridge of your nose- you could only sigh blissfully as he ran his fingers through the mess he had created, spreading it until his finger reached your lips. 

You both stilled; breaths catching in your chests. 

After a long moment, you nodded, your eyes soon fluttering closed as he began to spread the liquid upon your lips- the copper tang of his blood immediately permeating your senses. His eyes were practically drooping now; his irises blown out in pleasure. Keeping your eyes upon his; you gauged his every movement as you sucked his finger into your mouth, effectively cleaning it and your lips of his blood.  You knew in that moment that this was forever; this connection that had been forged between your souls, intertwined at each end and tightened right in the middle. Forged entirely from his very own metal.

[huggybearluvr]

Y/n and Nico Hischier have a son together in which they take him to his first New Jersey Devils family skate day in which their son befriends Erik Haula's son

boyfriend | nh13

summary: You and Nico bring your 3 year old daughter, Mel, to family skate, and after a night of skating around with Erik's son, Henrik, She nearly gives her father a heart attack at the innocent question she asks.

a/n: So I am gonna have them have a daughter just cause I thought of the funniest idea.

Masterlist

You sat beside your daughter watching has your husband tied her skates.

"Are you excited for family skate, sweet heart?" Your husband Nico, asked looking up at your daughter.

She nodded enthusiastically, " So excited!" she squealed out with aa giggle.

Nico smiled at the girl, standing up to pick her up. He took your hand with his free one.

You all walked over to the ice. He placed the young girl down, stepping onto the ice. You took Mel's hand, "Go head, honey, take daddy's hand," You smiled down at the young girl.

She stpped forward taking Nico's hand, you following behind. You all skated around the rink before a young boy came over, following Jesper.

"Wanna skate wif me?" He asked Mel with a dorky smile plastered across his face.

She looked up to Nico, recieving a nod, as you both let go of her hand. She took the young boys hand skating off with him.

"Looks like they will be great friends," Jesper smiled as he skated beside you both.

"Yeah, it does," You smiled taking your husbands hand.

You and Nico watched as the young pair skated around the rink, ultimately deciding that Jack needed to be attacked.

You and Nico laughed as the pair latched themselves on to Jacks legs as he skated beside his brother.

"I love this," You smiled up at your husband who looked right back at you with a smile plastered on his face.

"I do too," He spoke before leaning over to kiss you.

Your peaceful skating was soon interrupted by Jack skating up to you both, "Your daughter bit me!"

"Good." Nico spoke solemnly," Someone needs to put you in your place," He joked, smacking Jack on the shoulder playfully.

-

As it was nearing 6:15, you had skated off the ice, Nico going to collect Mel so that you all could make it out to dinner before bedtime.

He scooped the young girl up in his arms,"You ready for dinner?" He asked with a smile on his face at her giggles.

"Mhmm sooo hungry," She stretched out. She gasped looking up to her father seriously as they joined you on the bench to remove their skates.

"daddy?" She spoke softly looking at her father.

"Yes?" He responded looking down at her.

"Can my boyfriend come to dinner with us?" She asked with a smile on her face, and begging eyes.

Nico nearly choked at the words. His eyes going wide and his face dropping. You swear he was having a heart attack at the innocent question.

You laughed, "I think that's a great idea, sweet heart."

Nico gulped, "Maybe-"

You cut him off, "I'll go talk to Henriks dad," You smiled standing up tucking your skates into the bag.

You walked over to Jesper.

"Whats with Nico?" He asked as he saw Nico looking like someone just told him the world was ending.

"Mel, asked if her boyfriend could join us for dinner," You laughed,"So would you guys like to join us for dinner?"

"Hell yeah, if it means I get to see Nico like that all night!" He responded with a laugh.

You walked back over as Mel ran right past you to talk to Henrik.

You walked over to your husband wrapping your arms around him. You looked up at him.

"My precious innocent angel, just asked me if her boyfriend could come to dinner," He spoke in disbelief.

"Relax Neeks, Their Three."

[lilacsupernova]

*Note: Tumblr might say reblogs have been turned off for this post. They haven't!*

(Also: I have a deeper, updated dive coming soon!)

Some commentary on the Imane Khelif & Lin Yu Ting boxing situation

I read these two as male. Nothing has indicated they are trans-identifying but the image of Imane Khelif as a child might indicate him being raised as a girl due to having a DSD. This is irrelevant to whether he should compete as a woman though. Both athletes have XY chromosomes – which if untrue they could do a simple cheek swab to prove they're women (as if they wouldn't already know from not having periods etc.). This would only need to be done once, and is less invasive than regular doping tests all athletes do! If XY chromosomes are found (as they already have been), they should do as Erik Schinegger did in 1968 and refuse to compete in the women's category anymore.

Claims this is a big conspiracy where the IBA are lying due to corruption are illogical. The claim they only disqualified Khelif and Yu Ting so they couldn't beat Russian boxers is false. While it sounds like they are corrupt due to Russian influence, and they ordered the DNA tests, the tests themselves were performed independently and showed they had XY chromosomes. Based on this info, and their women-have-XX-chromosomes policy the IBA banned them from competing in the women's category. Think about it, how bold (and stupid) would it be to falsely claim these two aren't female, given how easily that claim could be disproved?

Plus, if we're going to throw around corruption claims, how about the IOC? Who we know are happy to allow men to compete in the women's category based on their baffling and nonsensical rules (including no presumption of advantage based on sex)? Who ended sex-verification screening in 2000? Something Independent Council on Women’s Sports (ICONS) co-founder Marshi Smith has condemned, saying it allows the Yu Ting/Khelif issue to even be a thing. The IOC who decided they could compete as women based on passport sex markers? (Which we know can be legal fictions). Who previously allowed Caster Semenya - a man with a DSD, XY chromosomes and undescended testes - to compete as a woman? Who allowed Semenya, Francine Niyonsaba and Margaret Nyairera Wambui to take all three medals at the Rio 2016 women's 800m? I see far more evidence for how corruption is affecting the IOC's view in this matter than the IBA's.

I will also remind everyone (including radfems) that all because a corrupt/'bad'/bad person said something, it does not necessarily mean what they're saying is false! We know the words of radfems/GC people/anyone can be disregarded and derided because they've been branded a 'TERF', but that does not indicate the veracity of their words! The strength of their claims / arguments do. (I wish I could find that meme about a priest saying the sky is blue or something like that). I'm not telling you to believe what I'm saying because I'm saying it; do your own research, think critically, and make up your own minds based on the evidence.

The boxers in question:

Lin Yu Ting is guaranteed a bronze medal at minimum in the Women's 57kg due to making the semifinals (both boxers who lose the semis get bronze, the winners compete in the final for gold). His semi is 7 August at 9.30pm (all times Paris time) against Turkey's Esra Yildiz Kahraman, and the final will be 10 August at 9.30pm (worth watching anyway to support the women!).

Imane Khelif is also guaranteed a bronze minimum in the 66kg Women's category. He plays Janjaem Suwannapheng from Thailand on 6 August at 10.34pm. If he reaches the final, it's 9 August at 10.51pm.

What other boxers have said:

Svetlana Staneva of Bulgaria protested by refusing to shake Lu Ting's hand and making an X symbol after she was defeated by him 5-0.

Angela Carini burst into tears and refused to shake Khelif's hands after choosing to forfeit the match due the fearing for her safety due the strength of his punches. She later issued an apology, which frankly I suspect she was pressured into in order to be allowed to continue to box.

Brianda Tamara from Mexico also alluded to the strength of Khelif's blows, saying "when I fought with her I felt very out of my depth. Her blows hurt me a lot, I don’t think I had ever felt like that in my 13 years as a boxer, nor in my sparring with men. Thank God that day I got out of the ring safely, and it’s good that they finally realized."

Caitlin Parker, the Australian boxing captain says "I don't agree with [Khelif and Yu Ting] being allowed to compete in sport, especially combat sports. It can be incredibly dangerous. It's not like I haven't sparred men before. But you know it can be dangerous for combat sports and it should be seriously looked into. Yes, biologically … genetically they are going to have more advantages. I really hope the organisations get their act together so that boxing can continue to be at the Olympics. It's the oldest Olympic sport. Women's boxing was only introduced in 2012 and I want to see it for the next 100, 200 years to come." (She competes in the 75kg semifinal on 8 August at 10.02pm).

Santiago Nieva, an Australian boxing coach, and Marissa Williamson, who could have met Khelif in the 66kg category disagree. Only the male coach is quoted, however.

Hergie Bacyadan, a female Filipina boxer who identifies as a trans male (but hasn't taken testosterone) on the other hand agrees with Parker, saying through a translator "in sparring it's OK, but if they have XY chromosomes in competition, they should abide by the rules."

Former women's world champion Mária Kovács has wryly remarked that in modern women's boxing "there is a 20 percent chance that one of the athletes will suffer a testicular injury." She also discouraged Hungary's Anna Luca Hámori from competing against Khelif. Hámori posted an AI picture on Instagram of a female boxer fighting a devil and referred to Khelif as a man, for which the Algerian Olympic Committee submitted a complaint to the IOC, and forced her to delete it and apologise to Khelif. She was then defeated by Khelif 5-0 in the quarterfinal, hugging him afterwards. (Similar situation to Carini?)

What others have said:

An open letter calling for the IOC the reverse its decision to allow Yu Ting and Khelif to compete, and to reinstate sex screening has been signed by the likes of: Sharron Davies, Riley Gaines, Martina Navratrilova, Fair Play for Women, Save Women's Sport Australasia, Women's Declaration International, and more.

Dr Emma Hilton, a developmental biologist, has done research which found "a male boxer's punch is 160% more powerful than a woman's". (Unfortunately the article doesn't cite which study, and I don't have access to her articles to determine which one it is). She considers "this decision to include two men (Khelif and Yu-ting) in women's boxing to be extremely worrying, both for the safety and well-being of the female boxers against whom these two men will be competing."

Lastly, the UN's special rapporteur on violence against women and girls Reem Alsalem has said Carini "rightly followed her instincts and prioritised her physical safety, but she and other female athletes should not have been exposed to this physical and psychological violence based on their sex."

Other commentary:

Here is some commentary from IreneBritUSA, Karen Davis of You're Kidding, Right?, Aja the Empress, Marshi Smith (co-founder of ICONS), Jennifer Sieland, Anna Slatz, Dr Colin Wright (an evolutionary biologist), Meghan Murphy and Mary Lou Singleton (upcoming), and Doriane Lambelet Coleman. Note several WoC are speaking out!