Fic: Journal Of A Southern Belle
Fic: Journal Of A Southern Belle
Verse: X3
Rating: PG-13
Artwork by Nadine
Date: 2006-07-28
Subject: Perving and ranting
Security: Protected
Mood: Bitchy
Tags: Logan, Storm, Hank, Bobby, Kitty, Perving, Ranting.
Before I post this in my LJ I need to figure out a way to make it ‘friends-locked’, because I don’t want just anyone reading some of my more *interesting* thoughts. Translation: I’m gonna rag on a few people and I’d rather they didn’t know about it.
Well, I’ll just type this out and figure out the logistics later.
Stryker’s task force invading and trashing the school and Jean sacrificing herself at Alkali Lake turned out to be just the tip of the iceberg.
Here’s the Reader’s Digest version of recent events. Jean rose from the dead and killed Scott, the Professor, most of Magneto’s enlarged Brotherhood and an entire platoon of the military. Storm took over the school - and I’m assuming the Xavier bank account. (I wonder if she’s gonna have new brochures printed which disclose the possibility that former members of the staff might rise from the dead and slaughter a good percentage of the remaining faculty. Probably not.) And I got the ‘cure’ because I caught Bobby thisclose to cheating on me with Kitty.
Okay, so I didn’t take the cure just so I could hang onto Bobby, but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t pissed off about his wandering eyes (and hands.) When I dumped him I considered gift-wrapping him for her, but figured I didn’t have the dexterity to tie a ribbon that small around his pencil dick. Not that size (or lack thereof) should be an issue anyway because Kitty’s secondary mutation appears to be the ability to regress in age. Pretty soon he’ll be dating a fetus.
I only returned to the mansion in order to collect my stuff - figuring I wouldn’t be welcome here anymore now that I was no longer a mutant, and therefore useless to the cause. But Logan intervened and insisted that this was still my home. *warm fuzzies* So until I can figure things out, I’m gonna accept the hospitality. I don’t need the ability to read minds to know that Storm isn’t too pleased with this arrangement. She’s not even trying to hide that she’s disappointed I didn’t want to live with my mutation. That’s rich coming from her. I’d give her five minutes with my gift before she went running to the cure clinic, pushed her way to the front of the line and jabbed herself with the syringe.
Let’s continue talking about Storm, shall we?
It’s fairly obvious that Hank has a major crush on her, but she’s acting totally oblivious to it. On the other hand, she’s jonesing for Logan - which could also be another reason she’d like to see me vacate the premises. I never should’ve confided in her about my feelings for him. Talking to her was worse than telling Jubilee. Damn that PMS-induced crying jag. Ugh. The next time I feel the urge to spill my guts, I should cram my mouth full of chocolate instead.
As for her wanting Logan while not even giving poor Hank the time of day - can we say hypocrite? For all of her declarations that we should embrace our mutations - no matter what - when it comes to her personal love life, appearance is definitely a deciding factor. If we were playing a game of Love Survivor, I’d bet good money that Hank would get ‘voted off the island’ before Logan. Hell, if the Professor were still alive, she’d probably straddle him in his wheelchair before she’d be willing to find out if Hank’s blue everywhere.
Hank’s such a great guy. He kinda looks like Sulley from “Monsters, Inc” and acts like Shrek. I hope he finds himself a Princess Fiona so he can give a furry blue finger to Storm.
Now on to Logan - object of all my porny thoughts. Okay, I’d had a fantasy or two about Scott (and the pilot’s seat in the Blackbird. *ahem*) but most of my X-rated dreams are about Logan and his Chest of Perfection. If his you-know-what is in proportion to everything else - whoo hoo.
When he pointed out that he wasn’t my father, I really wish he would’ve added something blatantly suggestive to the end of that sentence. Ya know - “I’m not your father … it wouldn’t be illegal for us to have sex, so come find me as soon as you’re touchable.”
If only he’d said that, then I would’ve told him to go with me so we could’ve done it in the alley behind the clinic. The romantic candles, wine and a nice soft bed could’ve waited ‘til the second round. Oh sure, like every girl, I have my fantasy of how I’d like to lose my virginity, but when it comes to Logan - well, any handy flat surface will do.
Is it hot in here?
I think I need some alone time a nice cool shower.
Signing off for now.
Marie
Southern comforts | Comfort me | Add to Memories | Link